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DANTE'S   INFERNO 


TRANSLATED    BY 


.    THE  REV.  HENRY  FRANCIS  GARY,  M.A. 


FROM    THE    ORIGINAL    OF 


DANTE   ALIGHIERI 


AND    ILLUSTRATED    WITH    THE    DESIGNS   OF 


M.  GUSTAVE   DORE 


Ncu)  (Sbitiou 


With  Critical  and  Explanatory  Notes,  Life  of  Dante,  and  Chronology 


EX  UBRIS 

ST.   BASIL'S  SCHOLASTICATE 


Cassell,  Petter,  Galpin  &  Co. 

NEW  YORK,  LONDON  AND  PARIS 
OCT  30  1959 


CONTENTS. 


I' 


PACK 

I.iFK  OF  Danib ,.vii 

CURONOLOGICAI.  VlKW  OF  THE   AgK  OF  DaNTE ,.  .  ,  .  .       Xxii 


THE     VISION     OF     HELL. 

CANTO    I. 

TTie  writer,  having  lost  his  way  in  a  gloomy  forest,  and  being  hindered  by  certain  wild  beasts  from  ascendhig  a  mountain,  is  met 
by  Virgil,  who  premises  to  show  him  the  punishments  of  Hell,  and  afterwards  of  Purgatory;  and  that  he  shall  then  be 
conducted  by  Beatrice  into  Paradise.      He  follows  the  Roman  poet       ..•.....•••I 

CANTO    II. 

After  the  invocation,  which  poets  are  used  to  prefix  to  their  works,  he  shows  that,  on  a  consideration  of  his  own  strength,  he 
doubted  whether  it  sufficed  for  tlie  journey  proposed  to  him,  but  that,  being  comforted  by  Virgil,  he  at  last  took  courage, 
and  followed  him  as  his  guide  and  master .7 

CANTO    III. 

Dante,  following  Virgil,  comes  to  the  gate  of  Hell ;  where,  after  having  read  the  dreadful  words  that  are  written  thereon,  they 
both  enter.  Here,  as  he  understands  from  Virgil,  those  were  punished  who  had  passed  their  time  (for  living  it  could  not  be 
called)  in  a  state  of  apathy  and  indifference  both  to  good  and  eviL  Then  pursuing  their  way,  they  arrive  at  the  river 
Acheron  ;  and  there  find  the  old  ferryman  Charon,  who  takes  the  spirits  over  to  the  opposite  shore ;  which  as  soon  as  Dante 
Teaches,  be  is  seized  with  terror,  and  falls  into  a  trance ....••        .13 


The  poet,  being  roused  by  a  clap  of  thunder,  and  following  his  guide  onwards,  descends  into  I.imbo,  which  is  the  first  circle  of 
Hell,  where  he  finds  the  souls  of  those  who,  although  they  have  lived  virtuously,  and  have  not  to  suffer  for  great  sins, 
nevertheless,  through  lack  of  baptism,  merit  not  the  bliss  of  Paradise.  Hence  he  is  led  on  by  Virgil  to  descend  into 
the  second  circle ,     .^.<— — r^  •....•••..17 


Coming  into  the  second  circle  of  Hell,  Dante  at  the  entrance  beholds  Minos  the  Infernal  Judge,  by  whom  he  is  admonished  to 
beware  how  he  enters  those  regions.  Here  he  witnesses  the  punishment  of  carnal  sinners,  who  are  tost  about  ceaselessly  in 
the  dark  air  by  the  most  furious  winds.  Amongst  these,  he  meets  with  Francesca  of  Rimini,  through  pity  at  whose  sad  tale 
be  falls  fainting  to  the  ground 23 

CANTO    VI. 

On  his  recovery,  the  i>oet  finds  himself  in  the  third  circle,  where  the  gluttonous  are  punished.  Their  torment  is,  to  lie  in  the  mire, 
under  a  continual  and  heavy  storm  of  hail,  snow,  and  discoloured  water ;  Cerberus  meanwhile  barking  over  them  with  his 
threefold  throat,  and  rending  them  piecemeal.  One  of  these,  who  on  earth  was  named  Ciacco,  foretells  the  divisions  with 
which  Florence  is  about  to  be  distracted.  Dante  proposes  a  question  to  his  guide,  who  solves  it ;  and  they  proceed  towards 
the  fourth  circle ........39 


CANTO    VII. 

Id  the  present  canto  Dante  describes  his  descent  into  the  fourth  circle,  at  the  beginning  of  which  he  sees  Plutus  stationed.  Here 
one  like  doom  awaits  the  prodigal  and  the  avaricious  ;  which  is,  to  meet  in  direful  conllirt,  rolling  great  weights  against  each 
other  with  mutu.!!  upbraidings.  From  hence  Virgil  takes  occasion  to  show  how  vain  the  goo<ls  that  are  committed  into  tlif 
charge  of  Fortune ;  and  this  moves  our  author  to  inquire  what  being  that  Fortune  is,  of  whom  he  spe.iks  :  which  question 
being  resolved,  they  go  down  into  the  fifth  circle,  where  they  find  the  wrathful  and  gloomy  tormented  in  the  Stygian  hike. 
Having  made  »  compass  round  great  part  of  this  lake,  they  come  at  last  to  the  base  of  a  lofty  tower 34 

»  CANTO    VIII. 

A  signal  having  been  made  from  the  tower,  Phlcgyas,  the  ferryman  of  the  lake,  speedily  crosses  it,  and  conveys  Virgil  and  Dante 
to  the  other  side.  On  their  passage  they  meet  with  Filippo  Argcnti,  whose  fury  and  torment  are  described.  They  then 
axrive  at  the  city  ofDis,  the  entrance  whereto  is  denied,  and  the  portals  closed  against  them  by  many  demons        ...      39 

a. 


"Y 


II  CONTENTS. 


CANTO    IX. 


After  iome  hindnncct,  and  having  seen  the  hellish  fanes  and  uiher  mousiers,  the  poet,  hy  the  help  of  an  angel,  enters  the  city  of 
Dis,  wherein  he  discovers  that  the  heretics  are  punished  in  tombs  burning  with  intense  fire :  and  he,  together  with  Virgil, 
puKioowarda.  between  the  sepulchres  and  the  walls  of  the  city 44 

CANTO    X. 

Dante,  having  obtained  permission  from  his  guide,  holds  discourse  with  Farlnata  degll  Ubetti  and  ^av!t^n^ntl^  l^^vl'^'^tii  who  lie 
in  their  fiery  tombs  that  are  yet  open,  and  not  to  be  closed  up  till  after  the  last  judgment.  Karinata  predicts  the  poet's  exile 
from  Florence ;  and  shuws  him  that  the  condemned  have  kiiowleilge  of  future  things,  but  are  Ignorant  of  what  is  at  pre&ent 
passing,  unless  it  be  revealed  by  some  new  comer  from  earth 49 

CANTO   XI. 

Dante  arrives  at  the  verge  of  a  rocky  precipice  which  encloses  the  seventh  circle,  where  he  sees  the  sepulchre  of  Anastasius  the 
heretic  ;  liehind  the  lid  of  which  pausing  a  little,  to  make  himself  capable  by  degrees  of  enduring  the  felid  smell  that  steamed 
upward  from  the  abyss,  he  is  instructed  by  Virgil  concerning  the  manner  in  which  the  three  following  circles  are  disposed, 
and  what  description  of  sinners  is  punished  in  each.  He  then  inquires  the  reason  why  the  carnal,  the  gluttonous,  the 
avaricious  and  prodigal,  the  wrathful  and  gloomy,  sulTcr  not  their  punishments  within  the  city  of  DIs.  lie  next  asks  how 
the  crime  of  usury  is  an  offence  ag.iinst  God ;  and  at  length  the  two  poets  go  towards  the  place  from  whence  a  passage  leads 
down  to  the  seventh  circle 55 

CANTO    XII. 

Descending  by  a  very  ragged  way  into  the  seventh  circle,  where  the  violent  are  punished,  Dante  and  his  leader  find  it  giiarded  by 
the  Minot.iur ;  whose  fury  being  pacified  by  Virgil,  they  step  downwards  from  crag  to  crag ;  till,  drawing  near  the  bottom, 
they  descry  a  river  of  blood,  wherein  are  tormented  such  as  have  committed  violence  against  their  neighbour.  At  these, 
when  they  strive  to  emerge  from  the  blood,  a  troop  of  Centaurs,  running  along  the  side  of  the  river,  aim  their  arrows  ;  and 
three  of  their  band  opposing  our  travellers  at  the  foot  of  the  sleep,  Virgil  prevails  so  far,  that  one  consents  to  carry  them  both 
across  the  stream ;  and  on  their  passage  Dante  is  informed  by  him  of  the  course  of  the  river,  and  of  those  that  are  punished 
therein 60 

CANTO    XIII, 

Still  in  the  seventh  circle,  Dante  enters  its  second  compartment,  which  contains  both  those  who  have  done  violence  on  their  own 
persons  and  those  who  have  violently  consumed  their  goods  j  the  first  changed  into  rough  and  knotted  trees  whereon 
the  harpies  build  their  nests,  the  latter  chased  and  torn  by  black  female  mastiffs.  Among  the  former,  Piero  delle  VIgiie  is 
one,  who  tells  him  the  cause  of  his  having  committed  suicide,  and  moreover  In  what  manner  the  souls  are  transformed  Into 
those  trunks.  Of  the  latter  crew  he  recognises  Lano,  a  Siennese,  and  Gi.icomo,  a  Paduan  ;  and  lastly,  a  Florentine,  who 
had  hung  himself  from  his  own  roof,  speaks  to  him  of  the  calamities  of  his  countrymen 66 

CANTO    XIV. 

They  arrive  at  the  beginning  of  the  third  of  those  compartments  into  which  this  seventh  circle  is  divided.  It  is  a  plain  of  dry  and 
hot  sand,  where  three  kiiuls  of  violence  are  punished  ;  namely,  against  God,  against  Nature,  and  against  Art  j  and  those  who 
have  thus  sinned  are  tormented  by  flakes  of  fire,  which  are  eternally  showering  down  upon  them.  Among  the  violent  against 
God  is  found  Capaneus,  whose  blasphemies  they  hear.  Next,  turning  to  the  left  along  the  forest  of  self-slayers,  and  having 
journeyed  a  Intie  onwards,  they  meet  with  a  streamlet  of  blood  that  Issues  from  the  forest  and  traverses  the  sandy  place. 
Here  Virgil  speaks  to  our  poet  of  a  huge  ancient  statue  that  stands  within  Mount  Ida  in  Crete,  from  a  fissure  In  which  statue 
there  is  a  dripping  of  tears,  from  which  the  said  streamlet,  together  with  the  three  other  infernal  rivers,  are  formed         .  72 

CANTO    XV. 

Taking  their  way  upon  one  of  the  mounds  by  which  the  streamlet,  spoken  of  in  the  last  canto,  was  embanked,  and  having  gone  so 
far  that  they  could  no  longer  have  discerned  the  forest  if  they  had  turned  round  to  look  for  It,  they  meet  a  troop  o.  spirits  that 
come  along  the  sand  by  the  side  of  the  pier.  These  are  they  who  have  done  violence  to  Nature  ;  and  amongst  them  Dante 
distinguishes  Brunetto  Latini,  who  had  been  formerly  his  master ;  with  whom,  turning  a  little  backward,  he  holds  a  discourse 
which  occu4>les  the  remainder  of  this  canto 77 

CANTO    XVI. 

Jotmeying  along  the  pier,  which  crosses  the  sand,  they  are  now  to  near  the  end  of  it  as  to  hear  the  noise  of  the  stream  railing  into 
the  eighth  circle,  wlien  they  meet  the  spirits  of  three  military  men  ;  who  judging  Dante,  from  his  dress,  to  be  a  countryman  of 
theirs,  entreat  him  to  stop.  He  compiles,  and  speaks  with  them.  The  two  poets  then  reach  the  place  where  the  water 
descends,  being  the  termination  of  this  third  comparlraent  in  the  seventh  circle  ;  and  here  Virgil  having  thrown  down  Into  the 
hollow  a  cord,  wherewith  Dante  was  girt,  they  behold  at  that  signal  a  monstrous  and  horrible  figure  come  swinuning  up  to 
them S3 

CANTO    XVII. 

Tlie  monster  Geryon  it  described  ;  to  whom  while  Viigil  is  speaking  in  order  that  he  may  carry  them  both  down  to  the 
next  circle,  Dante,  by  permission,  goes  a  little  further  along  the  e<lge  of  the  void,  to  descry  the  third  species  of  sinners 
contained  in  this  compartment,  namely,  those  who  hive  done  violence  to  Art ;  and  then  returning  to  his  master,  they  both 
descend,  seated  on  the  back  of  Gcryon 88 


93 


CONTENTS,  jji 

CANTO    XVIII.  '*" 

The  poet  describes  the  situation  and  form  of  the  eighth  circle,  divided  into  ten  gulfs,  which  contain  a>  many  differeni  descriptions 
of  fraudulent  sinners  ;  but  in  the  present  canto  he  treats  only  of  two  sorts  :  the  first  is  of  those  who,  either  for  their  own 
pleasure  or  for  that  of  another,  hive  seduced  any  woman  from  her  duty  ;  and  these  are  scourged  of  demons  in  the  first  gulf  ; 
the  other  sort  is  of  flatterers,  who  in  the  second  gulf  are  coi\demned  to  remain  immersed  in  fiilh     ..... 

CANTO    XIX. 

They  come  to  the  third  gulf,  wherein  are  punished  those  who  have  been  guilty  of  simony.  These  are  fixed  with  the  head 
downwards  in  certain  apertures,  so  that  no  more  of  them  than  the  legs  appears  without,  and  on  the  soles  of  their  feet  are  seen 
burning  flames.  Dante  is  taken  down  by  his  guide  into  the  bottom  of  the  gulf;  and  there  finds  Pope  Nicholas  V.,  whose 
evil  deeds,  together  with  those  of  otlier  ponliRs,  are  bitterly  reprehended.  Virgil  then  carries  him  up  again  to  the  arch, 
whichx^ords  them  a  passage  over  the  following  gulf og 

CANTO    XX. 

The  poet  relates  the  punishment  of  such  as  presumed,  while  living,  to  predict  future  events.  Tt  is  to  have  their  faces  reversed 
and  set  the  contrary  way  on  their  limbs,  so  that,  being  deprived  of  the  power  to  see  before  them,  they  are  constrained  ever  to 
walk  backwards.  Among  these  Virgil  points  out  to  him  Amphiaraiis,  Tiresias,  Aruns,  and  Manto  (from  the  mention  of 
whom  he  takes  occasion  to  speak  of  the  origin  of  Mantua),  together  with  several  others,  who  had  practised  the  arts  of 
divination  and  astrology       ....•••••...,..,,.,      104 

CANTO    XXI. 

Still  in  the  eighth  circle,  which  hears  the  name  of  Mnlebolge,  they  look  down  from  the  bridge  that  passes  over  its  fifth  gulf,  upon 
the  barterers  or  public  peculators.  Tliese  are  plunged  in  a  lake  of  boiling  pitch,  and  guarded  by  demoiis,  to  whom  Virgil, 
leaving  Dante  apart,  presents  himself;  and  licence  being  obtained  to  pass  onward,  both  pursue  their  way       .         .         ,         .113 

CANTO    XXII. 

Virgil  and  Dante  proceed,  accompanied  by  the  demons,  and  see  otiier  sinners  of  the  same  description  in  the  same  gulf.      The 

device  of  Cianipolo,  one  of  these,  to  escape  from  the  demons,  who  had  laid  hold  on  him •     "S 

CANTO    XXIII. 

The  enraged  demons  pursue  Dante,  but  he  is  preserved  from  them  by  Virgil.  On  reaching  the  sixth  gulf,  he  beholds  the 
punishment  of  the  hypocrites ;  which  is,  to  pace  continually  round  the  gulf  under  the  pressure  of  caps  and  hoods  that  are  gilt 
on  the  outside,  but  leaden  within.  He  is  addressed  by  two  of  these,  Catalano  and  Loderingo,  knights  of  Saint  Mary, 
otherwise  called  Joyous  Friars  of  Bologna.  Caiaphas  is  seen  fixed  to  a  cross  on  the  ground,  and  lies  so  stretched  along  the 
way,  tliat  all  tread  on  him  in  passing    ..a..............     120 

CANTO    XXIV. 

Under  the  escort  of  his  faithful  master,  Dante,  not  without  difficulty,  makes  his  way  out  of  t'.ie  sixth  gxilf,  and  in  the  seventh  sees 
the  robbers  tormented  by  venomous  and  pestilent  serpents.  The  soul  of  Vanni  Fucci.  wlio  had  pill.iged  the  sacristy  of  Saint 
James  in  Pistoia,  predicts  some  calamities  that  impended  over  that  city,  and  over  the  l'°loreatiuc$ ISj 

CANTO    XXV. 

The  sacrilegious  Fucci  vents  his  fury  in  blasphemy,  is  seized  by  serpents,  and  flying  is  pursued  by  Cacus  in  the  form  of  a  centaur, 
who  is  described  with  a  swarm  of  serpents  on  his  haunch,  and  a  dragon  on  his  shoulders  breathing  forth  fire.  Our  poet  then 
meets  with  the  spirits  of  three  of  his  countrymen,  two  of  whom  undergo  a  marvellous  transformation  in  his  presence        .         .     131 

CANTO    XXVI. 

Remounting  by  the  steps,  down  which  they  had  descended  to  the  seventh  gulf,  they  go  forward  to  the  arch  that  stretches  over  the 
eighth,  and  from  thence  behold  numberless  flames  wherein  are  punished  tlie  evil  counsellors,  each  flame  containing  a  sinner, 
lave  one,  in  which  were  Diomede  and  Ulysses,  the  latter  of  whom  relates  the  manner  of  his  death 136 

CANTO    XXVII. 

The  poet,  treating  of  the  same  punishment  as  in  the  last  canto,  relates  that  he  turned  towards  a  flame  in  which  was  the  Count 
Guido  da  Monlefeltro,  whose  inquiries  respecting  ttie  state  of  Romagna  he  answers  ;  and  Guido  is  thereby  induced  to  declare 
who  he  is,  and  why  condemned  to  that  torment 14I 

CANTO    XXVIII. 

They  arrive  in  the  ninth  gulf,  where  the  sowers  of  scandal,  schismatics,  and  heretics  are  seen  with  their  limbs  miserably  maimed 
or  divided  in  dilferent  ways.  Among  these  the  poet  finds  Mahomet,  Piero  da  Medicina,  Curio,  Mosca,  and  Bertrand 
de  Burn <<7 

CANTO    XXIX. 

Dante,  at  the  desire  of  Virgil,  proceeds  onward  to  the  bridge  that  crosses  the  tenth  gulf,  from  whence  he  heare  the  cries  of  the 
alchemists  and  forgers,  who  are  tormented  therein  ;  but  not  being  able  to  discern  anything  on  account  of  the  darkness,  they 
descend  the  rock,  that  bounds  this  the  last  of  the  compartments  in  which  the  eighth  circle  is  divided,  and  then  behold  the 
»pinU  who  are  afflicted  with  divers  plagues  and  diseases.  Two  of  them,  namely,  Grifolino  of  Aresao,  and  Capocchio  of 
■Sienna,  are  introduced  speaking ......••■     '53 


IV  CONTENTS. 

VAOk 

CANTO    XXX. 

Ib  the  same  ^If,  other  kinds  of  impostors,  >s  those  who  have  counterfeited  ihe  persons  of  others,  or  debased  the  current  coin,  oi 
deceived  by  speech  under  false  pretences,  are  described  as  suffering  various  diseases.  Simon  of  Troy,  and  Adamo  of  Brescia, 
mutually  reproach'  each  other  with  their  several  impostures 15S 

CANTO    XXXI. 

The  pnets,  following  the  sound  of  a  loud  horn,  are  led  by  it  to  the  ninth  circle,  in  which  there  are  four  rounds,  one  enclosed 
within  the  other,  and  containing  as  many  sorts  of  traitors  ;  but  the  present  canto  shows  only  that  the  circle  is  encompassed 
with  giants,  one  of  whom,  Anixus,  takes  them  both  in  his  arms  and  places  them  at  the  bottom  of  the  circle  .         .         .163 

CANTO    XXXII. 

This  canto  treats  of  the  first,  and,  in  part,  of  the  second  of  those  rounds,  into  which  the  ninth  and  last,  or  frozen  circle,  is  divided. 
In  the  former,  called  Cai'na,  Dante  finds  Camiccione  de'  Paizi,  who  gives  him  an  account  of  other  sinners  who  are  there 
punished ;  and  in  the  next,  named  Anlenora,  he  hears  in  like  manner  from  Uocca  degli  Abbati  wlio  liis  fellow-sulTerers  are     .     168 

CANTO   XXXIII. 

The  poet  is  told  by  Count  Ugolino  de'  Gherardeschi  of  the  cruel  manner  in  which  he  and  his  children  were  famished  in  the  tower 
at  Pisa,  by  command  of  the  Archbishop  Ruggieri.  He  next  discourses  of  the  third  round,  called  Ptolomea,  wherein  those 
are  punished  who  have  betraycti  others  under  the  semblance  of  kindness  ;  and  among  these  he  finds  the  Friar  Alberigo  de" 
Manfredi,  who  tells  him  of  one  whose  soul  was  already  tormented  in  that  place,  though  his  body  appeared  still  to  be  alive 
npon  the  earth,  being  yielded  up  to  the  governance  of  a  fiend 173 

CANTO    XXXIV. 

In  the  fourth  and  last  round  ot  tlie  uinth  circle,  those  who  have  betrayed  their  benefactors  are  wholly  covered  with  ice.  And  in 
the  midst  is  Lucifer,  at  whose  back  Dante  and  Virgil  ascend,  till  by  a  secret  path  they  reach  llie  surface  of  the  other 
heuaiipbere  of  the  earth,  and  once  more  obtain  sight  of  the  stars 179 


LIST  OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


ftA-n  CAVTO 

Portrait  of  Dante  Alighieri {Frontispiece) 

I.    In  the  midv,'ay  of  this  our  mortal  life i. 

II.    Scarce  the  ascent  began i. 

III.  A  lion  came,  'gainst  me  as  it  appear'd L 

IV.  He,  soon  as  he  saw  that  I  was  weeping l 

V.    Onward  he  moved '  l 

VI.    Now  WAS  the  day  departing 11. 

VII.     I,  WHO  NOW  BID  THEE  ON  THIS  ERRAND  FORTH II. 

VIII.    All  HOPE  abandon in. 

IX.    And,  lo  !  toward  us  in  a  bark  comes  on  an  old  man in. 

X      E'EN  IN  LIKE  manner  ADAM'S  EVIL  BROOD  CAST  THEMSELVES III. 

XI.    Only  so  far  afflicted ,       .       •       ,       .  iv. 

XII.      So  I   BEHELD  united  THE  BRIGHT  SCHOOL IV. 

XIII.  There  Minos  stands v. 

XIV.  The  stormy  blast  of  hell  with  restless  fury  drives  the  spirits  on  .       .       .  v. 
XV.    Bard  !   willingly  I  would  address  those  two  together  coming   ....  v. 

XVI.    Love  brought  us  to  one  death v. 

X\''II.    In  its  leaves  that  day  we  read  no  more v. 

XVIII.    I,  through  compassion  fainting V. 

XIX.    Then  my  guide ^       .  vi. 

XX.    Thy  city,  heap'd  with  envy  to  the  brim vl 

XXI.    Curst  wolf  !  thy  fury  inward  on  thyself  prey vn. 

XXII.    Not  all  the  gold  that  is  beneath  the  moon vn. 

XXIII.  Now  seest  thou,  son  !  the  souls  of  those "    vn. 

XXIV.  Soon  as  both  embark'd vin. 

XXV.    My  teacher  sage  aware viii. 

XXVI.    I  could  not  hear  what  terms  he  offer'd  them vin. 

XXVII.    Mark  how  each  dire  Erynnis ix. 

XXVIII.    To  the  gate  he  came ix. 

XXIX.    He  answer  thus  return'd ix. 

XXX.    He,  soon  as  there  I  stood  at  the  tomb's  foot  ........  x. 

XXXI.    From  the  profound  abyss ....  xi. 

.XXXII.    And  there  at  point  of  the  disparted  ridge  lay  stretch'd    .....  xii. 

XXXIII.    One  cried  from  far xn. 

XXXIV     We  to  those  be.\sts xii. 


utn 

TO  F«C1 
TAGK 

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xxiy. 

29 

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43 

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4 

132 

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8 

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22 

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24 

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26 

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28 

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... 

29 

24 

... 

30 

49 

... 

31 

8 

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34 

65 

•  •• 

36 

118 

•  •• 

38 

27 

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40 

39 

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110 

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42 

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44 

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48 

40 

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50 

6 

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58 

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62 

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... 

63 

VI 

ft  ATS 

XXXV. 

XXXVI. 

XX.WII. 

XXXVIII. 

XXXIX. 

XL. 

XLI. 

XLIl. 

XLIII. 

XLIV. 

XLV. 

XLVl. 

XLVII. 

XLVIII. 

XLIX. 

L. 

LI. 

LII. 

LIIL 

LIV. 

LV. 

LVI. 

LVIl. 

LVI  1 1. 

LIX. 

LX. 

LXI. 

LXII. 

LXIII. 

LXIV. 

LXV. 

LXVI. 

LXVII. 

JLXVIII. 

LXIX. 

LXX. 

LXXI. 

LXX  II 

LXXHI 

LXXIV 

LXXV 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

CANTO  LINt 

Herb  the  brute  harpies  make  their  nest xiii.  ii 

And  straight  the  trunk  exclaim'd •  xiii.  34 

"  Haste  now,"  the  foremost  cried x'"-  '^o 

Unceasing  was  the  play  of  wretched  hands xiv.  37 

Ser  Brunetto!  and  are  ye  here? XV.  28 

Forthwith  that  image  vile  of  fraud  appear'd xvii.  7 

New  terror  I  conceived  at  the  steep  plunge xvii.  117 

Ah!  how  they  made  them  bound  at  the  first  stripe  I xvrn.  38 

Why  greedily  thus  bendest  more  on  me      ... xviii.  116 

TiiAis  IS  this,  the  harlot XVIII.  130 

There  stood  I  like  the  friar xix.  10 

This  said,  they  grappled  him  with  more  than  hundred  hooks    ....  xxi.  50 

Be  none  of  you  outrageous xxi.  .  70 

In  pursuit  he  therefore  sped' xxri.  125 

But  the  other  proved  a  goshawk  able  to  rend  well  his  foe      ....  xxii.  137 

Scarcely  had  his  feet  reach'd  to  the  lowest  of  the  bed  beneath     .       .       .  xxi  11.  52 

Tuscan,  who  visitest  the  college  of  the  mourning  hypocrites    ....  xxiii.  92 

That  pierced  spirit .  xxin.  117 

Amid  this  dread  exuberance  of  woe xxiv.  89 

The  other  two  look'd  on xxv.  59 

The  guide,  who  mark'd  how  I  did  gaze  attkntive     .       , xxvl  46 

Now  mark  how  I  do  rip  me xxviil  30 

Call  thou  to  mind  Piero  of  Medicina xxviii.  69 

By  thk  hair  it  uore  the  sever'd  member xxviii.  116 

But  Virgil  roused  me xxix.  4 

Then  my  sight  was  livelier  to  explore  the  depth xxix.  52 

The  crust  came  drawn  from  underneath  in  flakes xxix.  79 

That  sprite  of  air  is  Schicciii xxx.  33 

That  is  the  ancient  soul  of  wretched  Mvrrha xxx.  38 

Oh,  senseless  spirit! xxxl  64 

This  proud  one  would  of  his  strength  against  almighty  Jove  make  trial      .  xxxi.  82 

Vet  in  the  abyss xxxl  133 

Look  how  thou  walkest xxxii.  20 

Then  seizing  on  his  hinder  scalp  I  cried xxxii.  97 

Not  more  furiously  ON  Menai.ippus' temples  Tydeus  gnawed xxxn.  127 

Then,  not  to  make  them  sadder     . xxxiii.  62 

Hast  no  help  for  me,  my  father  ! xxxiii.  67 

Then,  fasting  got  the  mastery  of  grief xxxiii.  73 

"Lo !"  HE  exclaimed,  "lo  I.Dis" ,       .       .       .       .  xxxiv.  20 

liY  THAT  HIDDEN  WAY  MY  GUIDE  AND   I    DID  ENTER XXXIV.  127 

Thence  issuing  we  again  beheld  the  stars <       .       .  xxxiv.  133 


TO  F«C« 
PAGK 

66 

.   67 

70 

72 

..   78 

88 

90 

9; 

.   96 

97 

.   98 

110 

112 

.   118 

.   119 

12C 

122 

123 

.    128 

.    132 

.    136 

148 

.    149 

•  1:0 
.    152 

.   IS4 

•  '55 
.   158 

•  '59 
.  164 
.  165 
,  166 
,  168 
,  170 
,  172 

174 
174 

175 
178 
1S2 
'S3 


LIFE     OF     DANTE 


DANTE,'  a  name  abbreviated,  as  was  the  custom  in  those  days,  from  Durante  or  Durando,  was  of  a 
very  ancient  Florentine  family.  The  first  of  his  ancestors,'  concerning  whom  anything  certain  is 
known,  was  Cacciaguida,'  a  Florentine  knight,  who  died  fighting  in  the  holy  war,  under  the  Emperor 
Conrad  III.  Cacciaguida  had  two  brothers,  Moronto  and  Eliseo,  the  former  of  whom  is  not  recorded  to 
have  left  any  posterity  ;  the  latter  is  the  head  of  the  family  of  the  Elisei,  or  perhaps  (for  it  is  doubtful 
which  is  the  case)  only  transmitted  to  his  descendants  a  name  which  he  had  himself  inherited.  From 
Cacciaguida  himself  were  sprung  the  Alighieri,  so  called  from  one  of  his  sons,  who  bore  the  appellation 
from  his  mother's  family,*  as  is  affirmed  by  the  poet  himself,  under  the  person  of  Cacciaguida,  in  the 
fifteenth  canto  of  the  "  Paradise."  This  name,  Alighieri,  is  derived  from  the  cont-of-arms,°  a  wing  or,  on  a 
field  azure,  still  borne  by  the  descendants  of  our  poet  at  Verona,  in  the  days  of  Leonardo  Aretiiio. 

Dante  was  born  at  Florence  in  May,  1265.  His  mother's  name  was  Bella,  but  of  what  family  is  no 
longer  known.  His  father'  he  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  in  his  childhood;  but  by  the  advice  of  his 
surviving  relations,  and  with  the  assistance  of  an  able  preceptor,  Brunctto  Latini,  he  applied  himself 
closely  to  polite  literature  and  other  liberal  studies,  at  the  same  time  that  he  omitted  no  pursuit  necessary 
for  the  accomplishment  of  a  manly  character,  and  mixed  with  the  youth  of  his  age  in  all  honourable  and 
noble  exercises. 

In  the  twenty-fourth  year  of  his  age,  he  was  present  at  the  memorable  battle  of  Campaldino,'  where 
he  served  in  the  foremost  troop  of  cavalry,  and  was  exposed  to  imminent  danger.  Leonardo  Aretino 
refers  to  a  letter  of  Dante,  in  which  he  described  the  order  of  that  battle,  and  mentioned  his  having  been 
engaged  in  it.  The  cavalry  of  the  Aretini  at  the  first  onset  gained  so  great  an  advantage  over  the 
Florentine  horse,  as  to  compel  them  to  retreat  to  their  body  of  infantry.  This  circumstance  in  the  event 
proved  highly  fortunate  to  the  Florentines ;  for  their  own  cavalry  being  thus  joined  to  their  foot,  while 
that  of  their  enemies  was  led  by  the  pursuit  to  a  considerable  distance  from  theirs,  they  were  by  these 
means  enabled  to  defeat  with  ease  their  separate  forces.  In  this  battle  the  Uberti,  Lamberti,  and  Abati, 
with  all  the  other  ex-citizens  of  Florence  who  adhered  to  the  Ghibelline  interest,  were  with  the  Aretini; 
while  those  inhabitants  of  Arezzo  who,  owing  to  their  attachment  to  the  Guelph  party,  had  been  banished 
from  their  own  city,  were  ranged  on  the  side  of  the  Florentines.  In  the  following  year  Dante  took  part  in 
another  engagement  between  his  countrymen  and  the  citizens  of  Pisa,  from  whom  they  took  the  castle  of 
Caprona,"  situated  not  far  from  that  city. 

From  what  the  poet  has  told  us  in  his  treatise  entitled  the  "  Vita  Nuova,"  we  learn  that  he  was  a  lover 
long  before  he  was  a  soldier,  and  that  his  passion  for  the  Beatrice  whom  he  has  immortalised  commenced' 
when  she  was  at  the  beginning  and  he  near  the  end  of  his  ninth  year.    Their  first  meeting  was  at  a  banquet 


•  A  note  by  Salvini,  on  Muratori,  "  Delia  Perfetta  Poesiaiia 
llaliana,"  lib.  iii.,  cap.  8. 

»  J^onardo  Aretino,  "Viladi  Dante." 

•  "  Paradise,"  xv.  He  was  bom,  as  most  have  supposed,  in 
1 106,  and  died  aliuut  1 147.  Uut  Lomliardi  computes  his  birth  to 
have  happened  about  logo. 

•  Vellutello,  "  Vila  di  Dante."  There  is  reason  to  suppose  that 
the  was  the  daughter  of  Aldigerio,  who  svas  a  lawyer  of  Verona, 
and  brother  of  one  of  the  same  name,  bishop  of  that  city,  and 
author  of  an  epistle  addressed  to  his  mother,  a  religious  recluse, 
with  the  title  of  "  Tractatus  Adalgeri  F.pisc.  ad  Rosuvidam  reclau- 
sam  (or,  ad  Orismund.im  matrem  inclusam)  de  Rebus  moralilms." 
See  Cancellieri,  "  Osserva^ioni,"  &c.,  Koma..  iSiS,  p.  119. 

•  Pelli  describe*  the  aims  differently  :    "  Memorie  per  la  Vita  <U 


Dante,  Opere  di  Dante,"  ediz.  Zatta,  1758,  torn,  iv.,  part  ii., 
p.  16.  The  male  line  ended  in  Pietro,  the  sixth  in  descent  from  our 
poet,  and  father  of  Ginevra,  married  in  1549  to  the  Conte  Mar- 
canlonio  Sarego,  of  Verona. — Pelli,  p.  19. 

'■  His  father  Alighiero  had  been  before  married  to  Lapa, 
daughter  of  Chiarissimo  Cialufli  ;  and  by  her  had  a  son  named 
Francesco,  who  left  two  daughters  and  a  son,  whom  he  named 
Durante  after  his  brother.  Francesco  appears  to  have  been  mis- 
taken for  a  son  of  our  poet's.  Boccaccio  mentions  also  a  sister  of 
Dante,  who  was  married  to  Poggi,  and  was  the  mother  of  Andrea 
Poqgi,  Boccaccio's  intimate. — Pelli,  p.  267. 

'  ("..  Villani  describes  this  engagement,  lib.  vii.,  (-.ap.  cxxx. 

»  "  Hell,"  xxi.  92. 

•  See  also  the  beginning  of  the  "Vita  Nuova." 


Vlll 


LIFE   OF    DANTE. 


in  the  house  of  Folco  Portinari,'  her  father;  and  the  impression  then  made  on  the  susceptible  and  constant 
heart  of  Dante  was  not  obhterated  by  her  death,  which  happened  after  an  interval  of  sixteen  years. 

But  neither  war  nor  love  prevented  Dante  from  gratifying  the  earnest  desire  which  he  had  of  know- 
ledge and  mental  improvement.  By  Benvenuto  da  Imola,  one  of  the  earliest  of  his  commentators,  it  is 
stated  that  he  studied  in  his  youth  at  the  universities  of  Bologna  and  Padua,  as  well  as  in  that  of  his  native 
city,  and  devoted  himself  to  the  pursuit  of  natural  and  moral  philosophy.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that 
his  eagerness  for  the  acquisition  of  learning,  at  some  time  of  his  life,  led  him  as  far  as  Paris,  and  even 
0.xford;*  in  the  former  of  which  universities  he  is  said  to  have  taken  the  degree  of  a  Bachelor,  and 
distinguished  himself  in  the  theological  disputations;  but  to  have  been  hindered  from  commencing  Master 
by  a  failure  in  his  pecuniary  resources.  Francesco  da  Buti,  another  of  his  commentators  in  the  fourteenth 
century,  asserts  that  he  entered  tlie  order  of  the  Frati  Minori,  but  laid  aside  tlie  habit  before  he  was 
professed. 

In  his  own  city,  domestic  troubles,  and  yet  more  severe  public  calamities,  awaited  him.  In  1291  he 
was  induced,  by  the  solicitation  of  his  friends,  to  console  himself  for  the  loss  of  Beatrice  by  a  matrimonial 
connection  with  Gemma,  a  lady  of  the  noble  family  of  the  Donati,  by  whom  he  had  a  numerous  offspring. 
But  the  violence  of  her  temper  proved  a  source  of  the  bitterest  suffering  to  him  ;  and  in  that  passage  of  tlie 
"  Inferno,"  where  one  of  the  characters  says — 


"  Iji  fiera  moglie  pi4  ch'  altro,  mi  nuoce," 

"  Me,  my  wife 
or  savage  temper,  more  th,in  auglil  beside, 
Ilalh  to  this  evil  brought" — 


Canto  xvi. ; 


his  own  conjugal  unhappiness  must  have  recurred  forcibly  and  painfully  to  his  mind.'  It  is  not  improbable 
that  political  animosity  might  have  had  some  share  in  these  dissensions  ;  for  his  wife  was  a  kinswoman  of 
Corso  Donati,  one  of  the  most  formidable  as  he  was  one  of  the  most  inveterate  of  his  opponents. 

In  1300  he  was  chosen  chief  of  the  Priors,  who  at  that  time  possessed  the  supreme  authority  in  the 
state;  his  colleagues  being  Palmieri  degli  Altoviti  and  Neri  di  Jacopo  degli  Alberti.  From  this  exaltation 
our  poet  dated  the  cause  of  all  his  subsequent  misfortunes  in  life.* 

In  order  to  show  the  occasion  of  Dante's  exile,  it  may  be  necessary  to  enter  more  particularly  into  the 
state  of  parties  at  Florence.  The  city,  which  had  been  disturbed  by  many  divisions  between  the  Guelphs 
and  Ghibellines,  at  length  remained  in  the  power  of  the  former  ;  but  after  some  time  these  were  again  split 
into  two  factions.  This  perverse  occurrence  originated  with  the  inhabitants  of  Pistoia,  who,  from  an 
unhappy  quarrel  between  two  powerful  families  in  that  city,  were  all  separated  into  parties  known  by  those 
denominations.     With  the  intention  of  composing  their  differences,  the  principals  on  each  side  were  sum- 


'  Folco  di  Ricovero  Poitinari  was  the  founder  of  the  hospital 
of  S.  M.aria  Nuova,  in  12S0,  and  of  oilier  charitable  institu- 
tions, and    died  in  1289,    as   appeared   from   his    epitaph. — JWli, 

P-  55- 

*  Giovanni  Villani,  who  was  his  contemporary,  and,  as  Villani 
himself  saj-s,  his  neighbour  in  Florence,  informs  us  that  "he 
went  to  study  at  Bologna,  and  then  to  Paris,  and  to  many  parts 
of  the  world"  (an  expression  that  may  well  include  England), 
"subsequently  to  his  banishment." — Ilisl.,  lib.  ix.,  cap.  cxxxv. 
Indeed,  as  we  shall  see,  it  is  uncertain  whether  he  might  not 
have  been  more  than  once  a  student  at  Paris.  But  the  fact 
of  his  having  visited  England  rests  on  a  pass.nge  alludhig  to  it 
in  the  Latin  poems  of  Boccaccio,  and  on  tlie  aulliority  of  Giovanni 
da  Seiravalle,  Bishop  of  Fcrnio,  who,  as  Tiraboschi  observes, 
though  he  lived  at  the  distance  of  a  century  from  D.inte,  might 
have  known  those  who  were  contemporaries  with  him.  This 
writer,  in  an  incdiled  commentary  on  the  "Coinmedia."  written 
while  he  was  attending  the  Council  of  Constance,  says  of  our  poet  ;• 
"  Anagorlce  dilexit  tlieologiam  sacram,  in  quA  diu  studuit  tarn  in 
Oxoniis  in  regno  Anglii,  quam  Parisiis  in  regno  Fraiicia:,"  &c. 
And  again  :  "  Dantes  se  in  juveiitute  dedit  omnibus  artibus  libcra- 
libus,  studens  eas  PaduK,  Bononii,  demum  Oxoniis  et  Parisiis,  ubi 
fecit  multos  actus  mirabilcs,  intantum  quod  ab  aliquibus  dicebatur 
niagnus  philosophus,  ab  aiiquibus  mngJius  'I'lKologus,  ab  aliquibus 
niagnus  poeta." — Tirabosc/ii,  Sloria  Mia  Poes.  Hat.,  vol.  ii., 
cap.  iv.,  p.  14,  as  extracted  from  Tiraboschi's  great  work  by 
Mathias,  and  edited  by  that  gentleman  London,  1803.  The  bishop 
translated  the  poem  itself  into  Latin  prose,  at  the  instance  of 
Cardinal  Amnlco  di  Saluzzo,  and  of  two  English  bi.sliops, 
Nicholas   Bubwilh,  of   Bath,  and   Robert  Ilalam,   of  Salisbury, 


who  attended  the  same  counciL  One  copy  only  of  the  version 
and  commentary  is  known  to  be  preserved,  and  that  is  in  the 
Vatican.  I  would  suggest  the  probability  of  others  existing  in  this 
country.  Stillingfleet,  in  the  "  Origines  SaciK,"  twice  quotes 
passages  from  the  "  Paradiso,"  "rendered  into  Latin"  (and  it  is 
latin  prose),  as  that  learned  bishop  says,  "by  F.  S." — Origines 
Sacra,  b.  ii.,  chap,  ix.,  sect,  xviii.,  \  4  j  and  chap,  x.,  sect,  v., 
edit.  Camliridge,  1701.  This  work  was  begun  in  February, 
1416,  and  finished  in  the  same  month  of  the  following  year.  The 
word  "  anagorice  "  (into  which  the  Italians  altered  "  anagogice  "), 
which  occurs  in  the  former  of  the  above  extracts,  is  explained 
by  Dante  in  the  "Convito"  ("Opere  di  Dante,"  torn,  i.,  p.  43, 
ediz.  Venez.,  1793),  and  more  briefly  by  Field,  "Of  the  Church," 
b.  iii.,  cap.  26:  "The  anagogicall"  sense  is,  "when  the  things 
literally  expressed  unto  us  do  signifie  something  in  the  state  ol 
heaven's  happiness."  It  was  used  by  the  Greek  Fathers  to  signily 
merely  a  more  recondite  sense  in  a  text  of  Scripture  than  that  which 
the  plain  words  offered.  See  Origen  in  Routh's  "  Reliquix 
Sacrae,"  vol.  iv.,  p.  323. 

•  Yet  M.  Artaud,  in  his  "Histoire  de  Dante"  (Svo,  Paris,  1841, 
p.  85),  represents  Gemma  as  a  tender,  faithful,  and  alTcctionate 
wife.  I  cert.iinly  do  not  find  any  mention  of  her  unhappy  temper 
in  the  early  biographers.  Regard  for  her  or  for  her  children  might 
have  restrained  them.  But  in  the  next  century,  Landino,  though 
commending  her  good  qualities,  does  not  scruple  to  assert  that  in 
this  respect  she  was  more  than  a  Xanthippe. 

♦  Leonardo  Aretino.  A  late  biographer,  on  the  authority  of 
Marchionne  Slelani,  assigns  different  colleagues  to  Dante  in  his 
office  of  Prior.  See  Balbo,  "  Vita  di  Dante,"  voL  i.,  p.  219,  ediz. 
Torino,  1839. 


LIFE   OF   DANTE. 


IX 


increase 
were 


moned  to  the  city  of  Florence ;  but  this  measure,  instead  of  remedying  the  evil,  only  contributed  to  i  .. 
its  virulence,  by  communicating  it  to  the  citizens  of  Florence  themselves.  For  the  contending  parties 
so  far  from  being  brought  to  a  reconciliation,  that  each  contrived  to  gain  fresh  partisans  among  the  Floren- 
tines, with  whom  many  of  them  were  closely  connected  by  the  ties  of  blood  and  friendsliip ;  and  who 
entered  into  the  dispute  with  such  acrimony  and  eagerness,  that  the  whole  city  was  soon  engaged  either 
on  one  part  or  the  other,  and  even  brothers  of  the  same  family  were  divided.  It  was  not  long^efore  they 
passed,  by  the  usual  gradations,  from  contumely  to  violence.  The  factions  were  now  known  by  the  names 
of  the  Neri  and  the  Bianchi,  the  former  generally  siding  with  the  Guelphs  or  adherents  of  the  Papal  power, 
the  latter  with  the  Gliibellines  or  those  who  supported  the  authority  of  the  emperor.  The  Neri  assembled 
secretly  in  the  church  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  and  determined  on  interceding  with  Pope  Boniface  VIII.  to 
send  Charles- of  Valois  to  pacify  and  reform  the  city.  No  sooner  did  this  resolution  come  to  the  knowledge 
of  the  Bianchi,  than,  struck  with  apprehension  at  the  consequences  of  such  a  measure,  they  took  arms,  and 
repaired  to  the  Priors,  demanding  of  them  the  punishment  of  their  adversaries,  for  having  thus  entered  into 
private  deliberations  concerning  the  state,  which  they  represented  to  have  been  done  with  the  view  of 
expelling  them  from  the  city.  Those  who  had  met,  being  alarmed  in  their  turn,  had  also  recourse  to  arms, 
and  made  their  complaints  to  the  Priors.  Accusing  their  opponents  of  having  armed  themselves  without  any 
previous  public  discussion,  and  affirming  that,  under  various  pretexts,  they  had  sought  to  drive  them  out  of 
their  country,  they  demanded  that  they  might  be  punished  as  disturbers  of  the  public  tranquillity.  The  dread 
and  danger  became  general,  when,  by  the  advice  of  Dante,  the  Priors  called  in  the  multitude  to  their  pro- 
tection and  assistance,  and  then  proceeded  to  banish  the  principals  of  the  two  factions,  who  were  these :  Corso 
Donati,'  Geri  Spini,  Giachonotto  de'  Pazzi,  Rosso  della  Tosa,  and  others  of  the  Neri  party,  who  were  exiled 
to  the  Castello  della  Pieve,  in  Perugia ;  and  of  the  Bianchi  party,  wlio  were  banished  to  Serrazana,  Gentile 
and  Torrigiano  de'  Cerchi,  Guido  Cavalcanti,"  Baschiera  della  Tosa,  Baldinaccio  Adimari,  Naldo,  son  of 
Lottino  Gherardini.  and  others.  On  this  occasion  Dante  was  accused  of  favouring  the  Bianchi,  though  he 
appears  to  have  conducted  himself  with  impartiality;  and  the  deliberation  held  by  the  Neri  for  introducing 
Charles  of  Valois*  might,  perhaps,  have  justified  him  in  treating  that  party  with  yet  greater  rigour.  The 
suspicion  against  him  was  increased,  when  those  whom  he  was  accused  of  favouring  were  soon  after 
allowed  to  return  from  their  banishment,  while  the  sentence  passed  upon  the  other  faction  still  remained  in 
full  force.  To  this  Dante  replied  that  when  those  who  had  been  sent  to  Serrazana  were  recalled,  he  was 
no  longer  in  office;  and  that  tiieir  return  had  been  permitted  on  account  of  the  death  of  Guido  Cavalcanti, 
which  was  attributed  to  the  unwholesome  air  of  that  place.  The  partiality  which  had  been  shown,  however, 
afforded  a  pretext  to  the  Pope*  for  dispatching  Charles  of  Valois  to  Florence,  by  whose  influence  a  great 
reverse  was  soon  produced  in  the  public  affairs;  the  ex-citizens  being  restored  to  their  place,  and  the  whole 
of  the  Bianchi  party  driven  into  exile.  At  this  juncture  Dante  was  not  in  Florence,  but  at  Rome,  whither  he 
had  a  short  time  before  been  sent  ambassador  to  the  Pope,  with  the  offer  of  a  voluntary  return  to  peace  and 
amity  among  the  citizens.  His  enemies  had  now  an  opportunity  of  revenge,  and,  during  his  absence  on  this 
pacific  mission,  proceeded  to  pass  an  iniquitous  decree  of  banishment  against  him  and  Palmieri  Altoviti ; 
and  at  the  same  time  confiscated  his  possessions,  which,  indeed,  had  been  previously  given  up  to 
pillage.' 

On  hearing  the  tidings  of  his  ruin,  Dante  instantly  quitted  Rome,  and  passed  with  all  possible  expedi- 
tion to  Sienna.  Here,  being  more  fully  apprised  of  the  extent  of  the  calamity,  for  which  he  could  see  no 
remedy,  he  came  to  tiie  desperate  resolution  of  joining  himself  to  the  other  exiles.  His  first  meeting  with 
ttieni  was  at  a  consultation  which  they  had  at  Gorgonza,  a  small  castle  subject  to  the  jurisdiction  of  Arezzo, 
in  whicli  city  it  was  finally,  after  a  long  deliberation,  resolved  that  they  should  take  up  their  .station.' 


'    Of  thii    remarkabie  man,   see  more  in    the    "Purgatory," 
xxiv.  8l. 
»  .See  Note  to  "Hell,"  x.  59. 
'  See  "  Purgatory,"  xx.  69. 

*  Bonirace  VIII.  had  before  sent  the  Cardinal  Matteo  d'Acqua- 
sparta  to  Florence,  with  the  view  of  supporting  his  own  adherents 
in  that  city.  The  cardinal  is  supposed  to  be  alluded  to  in  the 
"  Paradise,"  xii.  115. 

•  On  the  27th  of  January,  1302,  he  was  mulcted  8,000  lire,  and 
condemned  to  two  years'  banishment ;  and  in  case  the  fine  was  not 
paid,  his  goods  were  to  be  confiscated.  On  the  l6th  of  March,  the 
same  year,  he  was  sentenced  to  a  punishment  due  only  to  the  most 
desperate  of  malefactors.  The  decree,  that  Dante  and  his  associates 
in  exile  should  be  burned,  if  they  fell  into  tlie  hands  of  their  enemies, 
was  discovered  in  1 772,  by  llie  Conte  Lodovico  Savioli.  See  Tiia- 
boschi,  where  the  document  is  given  at  length. 

'  At  Areao  it  was  his  fortune,  in  1302,  to  meet  with  Busone  da 


Gubbia,  who  two  years  before  had  been  expelled  from  his  country 
as  a  Ghibelline,  in  about  the  twentieth  year  of  his  age.  Busone, 
himself  a  cultivator  of  the  Italian  poetry,  here  contracted  a  friend- 
ship with  Dante,  which  was  afterwards  cemented  by  the  reception 
afijrded  him  under  Busone's  roof  during  a  part  of  his  exile.  He 
was  of  the  ancient  and  noble  family  of  the  Rnf^t-lli  of  Gubbio  ;  and 
to  his  banishment  owed  the  honourable  oflices  which  he  held  of 
governor  of  Arezzo  in  1316  and  1317  ;  of  governor  of  Viterbo  in  the 
latter  of  these  years ;  then  of  captain  of  Pisa  ;  of  deputy  to  the 
Emperor  in  1327  ;  and  finally  of  Rom.-in  senator  in  1337.  He  died 
probably  about  1350.  The  historian  of  Italian  lircrattire  speaks 
slightly  of  his  poetical  productions,  consisting  chiefly  of  comments 
on  the  "Divina  Commedia,"  which  were  written  in  lerza  rima. 
They  have  been  published  by  Sig.  Francesco  Maria  Rafaelli,  who 
has  collected  all  the  information  that  could  be  obtained  respecting 
them.—Dilidd  Eruditor,  v.  xvii.  He  wrote  also  a  romance,  en- 
titled "  L'  Avventuroso  Ciciliano,  "which  has  never  been  printed.— 

i 


X  LIFE   OF    DANTE. 

Hither  they  accordingly  repaired  in  a  numerous  body,  made  the  Count  Alessandro  da  Romena  their  leader, 
and  appointed  a  council  of  twelve,  of  which  number  Dante  was  one.  In  the  year  1304,  iiaving  been  joined 
by  a  very  strong  force,  which  was  not  only  furnisiied  them  by  Arezzo,  but  sent  from  Bologna  and  Pistoia, 
they  made  a  sudden  attack  on  the  city  of  Florence,  gained  possession  of  one  of  the  gates,  and  conquered 
part  of  the  territory,  but  were  finally  compelled  to  retreat  without  retaining  any  of  the  advantages  they  had 
acquired. 

Disappointed  in  this  attempt  to  reinstate  himself  in  his  country,  Dante  quitted  Arezzo;  and  his 
course  is,'  for  the  most  part,  afterwards  to  be  traced  only  by  notices  casually  dropped  in  his  own  writings, 
or  discovered  in  documents,  wliich  either  chance  or  the  zeal  of  antiquaries  may  have  brought  to  light 
From  an  instrument'  in  tJjc  possession  of  the  Marchesi  Papafavi,  of  Padua,  it  has  been  ascertained  that,  in 
1306,  he  was  at  that  city  and  with  that  family.  Similar  proof  exists  of  his  having  been  present  in  the 
following  year  at  a  congress  of  the  Ghibellines  and  the  Bianciii,  held  in  the  sacristy  of  the  church  belonging 
to  the  abbey  of  S.  Gaudenzio  in  Mugello  ;  and  from  a  passage  in  the  "  Purgatory  "  *  we  collect,  that  before 
the  expiration  of  1307  he  had  found  a  refuge  in  Lunigiana,  with  the  Marchese  Morello  or  Marcello  Malas- 
pina,  who,  though  formerly  a  supporter '  of  the  opposite  party,  was  now  magnanimous  enough  to  welcome 
a  noble  enemy  in  his  misfortune. 

The  time  at  which  he  sought  an  asylum  at  Verona,  under  the  hospitable  roof  of  the  Signori  della  Scala, 
is  less  distinctly  marked.  It  would  seem  as  if  those  verses  in  the  "Paradise,"  where  the  shade  of  his  ancestor 
declares  to  him, 

"  Lo  primo  tuo  rifiigio  e'l  primo  ostello 

Sara  la  cortcsia  del  gran  Lombarilo, " 
"  First '  refuge  thou  must  find,  first  place  of  rest, 

In  the  great  Lombard's  courtesy," 

should  not  be  interpreted  too  strictly ;  but  whether  he  experienced  that  courtesy  at  a  very  early  period  of 
his  banishment,  or,  as  others  have  imagined,  not  till  1308,  when  he  had  quitted  the  Marchese  Morello,  it  is 
believed  that  he  left  Verona  in  disgust  at  the  flippant  levity  of  that  court,  or  at  some  slight  which  he  con- 
ceived to  have  been  shown  him  by  his  munificent  patron,  Can  Grande,  on  v;hose  liberality  he  has  passed  so 
high  an  encomium.'  Supposing  the  latter  to  have  been  the  cause  of  his  departure,  it  must  necessarily  be 
placed  at  a  date  posterior  to  130S  ;  for  Can  Grande,  though  associated  with  his  amiable  brother  Aiboino^ 
in  the  government  of  Verona,  was  then  only  seventeen  years  of  age,  and  therefore  incapable  of  giving  the 
alleged  oftence  to  his  guest 

The  mortifications,  which  he  underwent  during  these  wanderings,  will  be  best  described  in  his  own 
language.  In  his  "Convito"  he  speaks  of  his  banishment,  and  the  poverty  and  distress  which  attended  it 
in  very  affecting  terms.  "  Alas !"'  said  he ;  "  had  it  pleased  the  Dispenser  of  the  Universe,  that  the  occasion 
of  this  excuse  had  never  existed ;  that  neither  others  had  committed  wrong  against  me,  nor  I  suffered 
unjustly;  suffered,  I  say,  the  punishment  of  exile  and  poverty;  since  it  was  the  pleasure  of  the  citizens  of 
that  fairest  and  most  renowned  daughter  of  Rome,  Florence,  to  cast  me  forth  out  of  her  sweet  bosom,  in 


Tirahrsfhi,  Storia  della  Pats,  ftal.,  v.  ii.,  p.  56.  In  Allacci's  Col- 
lection, Ediz.  Na^xili,  1661,  p.  11 2,  is  a  sonnet  by  Busone,  on  the 
death  of  a  lady  and  of  Danie,  which  concludes — 

"  Ma  i  mi  conforto  ch'  io  credo  che  Deo 
Dante  abbia  posto  in  glorioso  scanno." 

At  the  end  of  the  "  Divina  Coramedia,"  in  No.  3,581  of  the 
Ilarleian  MSS.  in  the  British  Museum,  are  four  poems.  The  fiist, 
beginning — 

"  O  voi  che  siete  nel  verace  lume," 


is  attributed, 
begins — 


as  usual,  to  Jacopo    Dante.      The  second,    which 

"  Acio  che  sia  piu  frutlo  e  piii  diletto 
A  qtiei  die  si  dilettan  di  sapere 
Deir  alia  comedia  vero  intellctto," 

•nd  proceeds  vrith  a  brief  explanation  of  the  principal  parts  of  the 
poem,  is  here  attributed  to  Mcsser  Busone  d'Agobbio.  It  is  also 
inserted  in  Nos.  3,459  and  3,460  of  Ihe  same  M.SS.  The  third  is  a 
sonnet  by  Cino  da  Pistoia  lo  Busone  ;  and  the  fourth,  Husone's 
answer.  Since  this  Note  was  wriuen,  Busorie's  romance,  above 
mentioned,  has  been  edited  at  Florence  in  the  year  1832,  by  the 
late  Dr.  Nolt 

'  A  late  writer  has  attempted  a  recital  of  his  wanderings.  For 
this  purpose  he  as>.i;,'n5  certain  arbitrary  dates  to  the  completion  of 
the  several  parts  of  the  "  Divina  Conime<lia  ;  "  and  selecting  from 
each  what  be  supposes  to   be   reminiscences  nS  particular  places 


visited  by  Dante,  together  with  allusions  lo  events  then  passing, 
contrives,  by  llie  help  of  some  questionable  documents,  to  weave 
out  of  the  whole  a  continued  narrative,  which,  though  it  may  pass 
for  current  with  the  unwaiy  reader,  will  not  satisfy  a  more  diligent 
inquirer  after  the  truth.  See  Troya's  "  Veltro  Allegorico  di  Dante," 
Florence,  1826. 

'  "Millesimo  trecentesimo  sexto,  die  vigesimo  septimo  mensis 
Augtisti.  Pa<lue  in  contrata  Sancti  Martini  in  domo  Domine  Amate 
Domini  Papafave,  proeseiitibus  Dantino  quondam  Alligerii  de  Flo- 
rentia  et  nuuc  stat  Padue  in  contrata  Sancti  taurentii,''  &c — 
Pdli,  p.  83. 

'  Pelli,  p.  85,  where  the  document  is  given. 

*  Canto  viii.  133. 

•  "  Hell,"  xxiv.  144.  Morello's  wife  Alagia  is  honourably 
mentioned  in  the  "  Purgatory,"  xix.  140. 

•  Canto  xvii.  68. 

'  •'  Hell,"  i.  98,  and  "  Paradise,"  xvii.  75.  A  I^tin  epistle 
dedicatory  of  the  "  Paradise "  to  Can  Grande  is  attributed  to 
Dante.  Without  better  proof  than  has  been  yet  adduced,  I  cannot 
conclude  it  to  be  genuine.  See  the  question  discussed  by  Fralicelli, 
in  the  "  Opere  Miaori  di  Dante,"  torn,  iii.,  part  ii.,  l2mo,  Firenze, 
1841. 

'  Alboino  is  spoken  of  in  the  "Convito,"  p.  179,  in  such  a 
manner  that  it  is  not  easy  to  say  whether  a  compliment  or  a  re- 
flection is  intended ;  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  the  latter. 

*  "  Ahi  piacciuto  fosse  al  Dispensatore  dell'  Uuiveiso,"  &c., 
p.  u. 


LIFE   OF    DANTE. 


XI 


which  I  had  my  birth  and  nourishment  even  to  the  ripeness  of  my  age ;  and  in  which,  with  her  good  will,  I 
desire,  with  all  my  heart,  to  rest  this  wearied  spirit  of  mine,  and  to  terminate  the  time  allotted  to  me  on 
earth.  Wandering  over  almost  every  part  to  which  this  our  language  extends,  I  have  gone  about  like  a 
mendicant ;  showing,  against  my  will,  the  wound  with  which  fortune  has  smitten  me,  and  which  is  often 
imputed  to  his  ill-deserving  on  whom  it  is  inflicted.  I  have,  indeed,  been  a  vessel  without  sail  and  without- 
steerage,  carried  about  to  divers  ports,  and  roads,  and  shores,  by  the  dry  wind  that  springs  out  of  sad 
poverty ;  and  have  appeared  before  the  eyes  of  many,  who,  perhaps,  from  some  report  that  had  reached 
them,  had  imagined  me  of  a  different  form  ;  in  whose  sight  not  only  my  person  was  disparaged,  but  every 
action  of  mine  became  of  less  vaUie,  as  well  already  performed  as  those  which  yet  remained  for  me  to 
attempt."  It  is  no  wonder  that,  with  feelings  like  these,  he  was  now  willing  to  obtain,  by  humiliation  and 
entreaty,  vwliat  he  had  before  been  unable  to  effect  by  force. 

He  addressed  several  supplicatory  epistles,  not  only  to  individuals  who  composed  the  government,  but 
to  the  people  at  large ;  particularly  one  letter,  of  considerable  length,  which  Leonardo  Aretino  relates  to 
have  begun  with  this  expostulation  :  "  Popule  mi,  quid  feci  tibi  }  " 

While  he  anxiously  waited  the  result  of  these  endeavours  to  obtain  his  pardon,  a  different  complexion 
was  given  to  the  face  of  public  affairs  by  the  exaltation  of  Henry  of  Luxcmburgh'  to  the  imperial  throne; 
and  it  was  generally  expected  that  the  most  important  political  changes  would  follow,  on  the  arrival  of  the 
new  sovereign  in  Italy.  Another  prospect,  more  suitable  to  the  temper  of  Dante,  now  disclosed  itself  to 
his  hopes;  he  once  more  assumed  a  lofty  tone  of  defiance;  and,  as  it  should  seem,  without  much  regard 
either  to  consistency  or  prudence,  broke  out  into  bitter  invectives  against  the  rulers  of  Florence,  threatening 
them  with  merited  vengeance  from  the  power  of  the  emperor,  which  he  declared  tliat  they  had  no  adequate 
means  of  opposing.  He  now  decidedly  relinquished  the  party  of  the  Guelphs,  which  had  been  espoused  by 
his  ancestors,  and  under  whose  banners  he  had  served  in  the  earlier  part  of  his  life  on  the  plains  of  Campal- 
dino,  and  attached  himself  to  the  cause  of  their  opponents,  the  Ghibellines.  Reverence  for  his  country,  says 
one  of  his  biographers,'  prevailed  on  him  to  absent  himself  from  the  hostile  army,  when  Henry  of  Luxcm- 
burgh encamped  before  the  gates  of  Florence ;  but  it  is  difficult  to  give  him  credit  for  being  now  much 
influenced  by  a  principle  which  had  not  formerly  been  sufficient  to  restrain  him  from  similar  violence.  It 
is  probable  that  he  was  actuated  by  some  desire,  however  weak,  of  preserving  appearances;  for  of  his 
personal  courage  no  question  can  be  made.  Dante  was  fated  to  disappointment.  The  emperor's  campaign 
ended  in  nothing  ;  the  emperor  himself  died  the  following  summer  (in  1313),  at  Buonconvento ;  and,  with 
him,  all  hopes  of  regaining  his  native,  city  expired  in  the  breast  of  the  unhappy  exile.  Several  of  his 
biographers'  affirm  that  he  now  made  a  second  journey  to  Paris,  where  Boccaccio  adds  that  he  held  a  public 
disputation  *  on  various  questions  of  theology.  To  what  other  places '  he  might  have  roamed  during  his 
banishment,  is  very  uncertain.  We  are  told  that  he  was  in  Casentino,  with  the  Conte  Guido  Salvatico,"  at 
one  time ;  and,  at  another,  in  the  mountains  near  Urbino,  with  the  Signori  della  Faggiola.  At  the  monastery 
of  Santa  Croce  di  Fonte  Avellana,  a  wild  and  solitary  retreat  in  the  territory  of  Gubbio,  was  shown  a 
chamber,  in  which,  as  a  Latin  inscription '  declared,  it  was  believed  that  he  had  composed  no  small  portion 
of  his  divine  work.  A  tower,'  belonging  to  the  Conti  Falcucci,  in  Gubbio,  claims  for  Itself  a  similar  honour. 
In  the  castle  of  Colmollaro,  near  the  river  Saonda,  and  about  six  miles  from  the  same  city,  he  was  cour- 
teously entertained  by  Busone  da  Gubbio,"  whom  he  had  formerly  met  at  Arezzo.     There  are  some  traces 


'  "Paradise,"  xvii.  80,  and  xxx.  141. 

•  Leonardo  Aretino. 

'  Benvenuto  da  Imola,  Filippo  Villani,  and  Boccaccio. 

•  Anotlier  public  philosopliical  dispuLition  at  Verona,  in  1320, 
publislied  at  Venice  in  1508,  seems  to  be  regarded  by  Tiraboschi 
with  some  suspicion  of  its  authenticity.  It  is  entitled,  "  Quoestio 
florulenta  et  penitilis  de  duobus  dementis  aquae  et  tense  tractans, 
nuper  reperta,  quae  olim  Mantuie  auspicata,  Veronae  vero  disputata 
et  decisa  ac  manu  proprii  scripta  a  Dante  Florenlino  Poeti  claris- 
simo,  quK  diligentsr  et  accurate  correcta  (uit  per  Rev.  Magistrum 
Joan.  Benediclum  Moncettum  de  Castilioiie  Aretino  Regentem  Pa- 
tavinum  Ordinis  Eremilarum  Divi  Augustini,  sacraeque  Theologis 
Doctorem  excellentissimum." 

•  Vellutello  says  tliat  he  was  also  in  Germany.  "Vita  del 
Poctk" 

•  He  was  grandson  to  the  valiant  Guidoguerra. — PtUi,  p.  95. 
See  "Hell,"  xvi.  38. 

'  "  Hocce  cubiculum  hospes 

In  quo  Dantes  Aligherius  habitasse 

In  coque  non  minimum  praeclari  ac 

I'cnc  divini  operis  partem  com- 

poMiissc  dicitur  undiquc  fatiscens 

Ac  tanttun  non  solo  aequatum 


Pliilippus  Rodulpliius 

Laurentii  Nicolai  Cardinalis 

Amplissimi  Kratris  Filius  sunimiis 

Collegii  Prases  pro  eximta  erga 

Civem  suum  pietalc  refici  hancque 

Illius  cfiigiem  ad  tanti  viri  memo- 

riam  revocandam  Antonio  Petreio 

Canon.  Floren.  procurante 

CoUocari  mandavit 
Kal.  Mali.  M.D.L.VII."         /V///,  p.  98. 

'  In  this  is  inscribed, 

"  Hie  mansit  Dantes 
Aleghierius  Poeta 
Et  carmina  scripsit." 

'  The  following  sonnet,  said  to  be  addressed  to  him  by  Dante, 
was  published  in  the  "  Delilix-  Kruditorura,"  and  is  inserted  in  the 
Zatta  edition  of  our  poet's  woiks,  torn,  iv.,  part  ii.,  p.  264,  in  which 
alone  I  have  seen  it : — 

"  Tu,  die  staiiipi  lo  colle  ombroso  e  fresco, 
Ch'  6  CO  lo  P'iume,  che  non  b  torrente, 
Linci  molle  lo  chiama  quell.i  gente 
In  nome  Italiano  e  non  Tedcsco  : 


PrUi,  p.  97. 


XII 


LIFE   OF    DANXfe. 


of  his  having  made  a  temporary  abode  at  Udine.  and  particularly  of  his  having  been  in  the  Friull  with 
Pagano  delia  Torre,  the  patriarch  of  Aquileia.  at  the  castle  of  Tolmino,  where  he  is  also  said  to  have 
employed  himself  on  the  "  Divina  Commedia."  and  where  a  rock  was  pointed  out  that  was  called  the  "seat 
of  Dante."'  What  is  known  with  greater  certainty  is,  that  he  at  last  found  a  refuge  at  Ravenna,  with  Guido 
Novello  da  Polenta  ;  *  a  splendid  protector  of  learning ;  himself  a  poet ;  and  the  kinsman  of  that  unfortunate 
Francesca,*  whose  storj'  has  been  told  by  Dante  with  such  unrivalled  pathos. 

It  would  appear  from  one  of  his  Epistles  that  about  the  year  1316  he  had  the  option  given  him  of 
returning  to  Florence,  on  the  ignominious  terms  of  paying  a  fine,  and  of  making  a  public  avowal  of  his 
offence.  It  may,  perhaps,  be  in  reference  to  this  offer,  which,  for  the  same  reason  that  Socrates  refused  to 
save  his  life  on  similar  couditious,  he  indignantly  rejected,  that  he  promises  himself  he  shall  one  day  return 
•*  in  other  guise," 

"  And  standing  up 
At  his  baptismal  font,  shall  claim  the  wreath 
Due  to  the  poet's  temples." — J'ui-/;atory,  xxv. 

Such,  indeed,  was  the  glory  which  his  compositions  in  his  native  tongue  had  now  gained  him,  that  he 
declares,  in  tlie  treatise,  "  De  Vulgari  Eloqucntia,"  *  it  had  in  some  measure  reconciled  him  even  to  his 
banishment. 

In  the  service  of  his  last  patron,  in  whom  he  seems  to  have  met  with  a  more  congenial  mind  than  in 
any  of  the  former,  his  talents  were  gratefully  exerted,  and  his  affections  interested  but  too  deeply-;  for, 
having  been  sent  by  Guido  on  an  embassy  to  the  Venetians,  and  not  being  able  even  to  obtain  an  audience, 
on  account  of  the  rancorous  animosity  with  which  they  regarded  that  prince,  Dante  returned  to  Ravenna  so 
overwhelmed  with  disappointment  and  grief,  that  he  was  seized  by  an  illness  which  terminated  fatally, 
either  in  J uly  or  September,  1321.'  Guido  testified  his  sorrow  and  respect  by  the  sumptuousness  of  his 
obsequies,  and  by  his  intention  to  erect  a  monument,  which  he  did  net  live  to  complete.  His  countrymen 
showed,  too  late,  that  they  knew  the  value  of  what  they  had  lost.  At  the  beginning  of  the  next  century, 
their  posterity  marked  their  regret  by  entreating  tliat  the  mortal  remains  of  their  illustrious  citizen  might 
be  restored  to  them,  and  deposited  among  the  tombs  of  their  fathers.  But  the  people  of  Ravenna  were 
unwilling  to  part  with  the  sad  and  honourable  memorial  of  their  own  hospitality.  No  better  success 
attended  the  subsequent  negotiations  of  the  Florentines  for  the  same  purpose,  though  renewed  under  the 
auspices  of  Leo  X.,  and  conducted  through  the  powerful  mediation  of  Michael  Angelo.* 

The  sepulchre,  designed  and  commenced  by  Guido  da  Polenta,  was,  in  1483,  erected  by  Bernardo 
Bembo,  the  father  of  the  cardinal ;  and,  by  him,  decorated,  besides  other  ornaments,  with  an  effigy  of  the 
poet  in  bas-relief,  tJie  sculpture  of  Pietro  Lombardo,  and  with  the  following  epitaph : 


Ponti,  »er«  e  mattin,  contento  al  desco, 
Pcrchi  del  car  figliuol  vedl  picsciite 
lil  frutto  che  sperassi,  e  si  repciite 
S'  avaccia  nello  stil  Greco  e  Francesca. 

Pcrcl)6  cima  d'ingegno  non  s'astnlla 
In  quella  Italia  di  dolor  ostello, 
Di  cui  si  spcri  gia  cotanto  fiutto ; 

Gavazzi  pur  el  primo  Raflaello, 

Che  tra  dotti  vedrallo  esser  vednto. 
Come  sopr'  acqua  si  sostieu  la  galla." 

Translation. 
•Thon,  who  -vhere  Line!  sends  his  stream  to  drench 
The  valley,  walk'st  thai  fresh  and  shady  hill 
(Soft  Linci  well  they  call  the  gentle  rill. 
Nor  smooth  Italian  name  to  German  wrench) 
Evening  and  morning,  seat  thee  on  thy  bencit. 
Content ;  beholding  fruit  of  knowledge  fill 
So  early  tliy  son's  branches,  that  grow  still 
Knrich'd  with  dews  of  Grecian  lore  and  French. 
Though  genius,  with  like  hopeful  fruitage  hung. 
Spread  not  aloft  in  recreant  Italy, 
Where  grief  her  home,  and  worth  has  made  his  grave ; 
Yet  may  the  elder  Raflaello  see, 

With  joy,  his  offspring  seen  the  leam'd  among. 
Like  buoyant  thing  that  floats  above  the  wave." 
'  The   considerations  which   induced    the  Cavalier   Vannetti   to 
conclude  that  a    part    of   the     "  Commedia,"    and    the   canzone 
hcgi  cuing 

"  Canzon,  da  cbe  convicn  pur,  ch'  io  mi  dcglia" 


were  written  in  the  valley  I.agarina,  in  the  territory  of  Trento,  ^o 
not  appear  entitled  to  much  notice.  Vannelti's  letter  is  in  the 
Zaita  edition  of  Dante,  torn,  iv.,  part  II.,  p.  143.  There  may  be 
better  ground  for  concluding  that  he  was,  some  time  during  his  exile, 
with  Lanteri  Paratico,  a  man  of  ancient  and  noble  family,  at  the 
castle  of  Paratico,  near  Urescia,  and  that  he  there  employed  himself 
on  Ills  poems.  The  proof  of  this  rests  upon  a  communication  made 
by  the  Abate  Rodella  to  Dionisi,  of  an  extract  from  a  clironicle 
remaining  at  Brescia.  See  Cancellleri,  "  Osscrvazloni  intomo  alia 
questione  sopra  loriginalltii  della  Divina  Commedia,"  &c.,  Koma., 
1814,  p.  125. 
«  See  "  Hell,"  xxvii.  38. 

*  "  Hell,"  V.  1 13,  and  Note.  Former  biographers  of  Dante  have 
represented  Guido,  his  last  patron,  as  tlie  father  of  Franceses. 
Troya  asserts  that  he  was  her  nephew.  See  his  "  Vellro  Allegorico 
di  Uante,"  ed.  Florence,  1826,  p.  176.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that, 
in  this  instance,  as  in  others,  he  gives  no  authority  for  his  assertion. 
He  is,  however,  followed  by  Balbo,  "  Viu  di  Uante,"  Torino, 
1839,  v.  il.,  p.  315;  and  Artaud,  "  Histoire  de  Dante,"  Paris, 
1841,  p.  470. 

*  "  Quantum  vero  suos  familiares  gloriosos  efficiat,  nos  ipsi  novl- 
mus,  qui  hujus  dulcedine  gloriae  nostrum  exilium  posterg.-imus." — 
Lib.  i.,  cap.  17. 

'  Filippo  Vlllani,  Domenico  di  Bandino  d'Arezzo,  and  G.  Villani, 
"Hist."  lib.  ix.,  cap.  cxxxv.  The  last  writer,  whose  authority  Is 
perhaps  the  best  on  this  point,  in  the  Glunti  edition  of  1559, 
mentions  July  as  the  month  in  which  he  died ;  but  there  is  a  MS.  of 
Vlllani's  history,  it  is  said,  in  the  library  of  St.  Mark,  at  Vericc.  in 
which  his  death  is  placed  in  September. 

*  I'clll,  p.  104. 


LIFE   OF   DANTE. 


■  •  • 


'•  Exigiil  tumuli,  Danthes,  hie  sorte  jaceb»», 
Squalenti  nuUi  eognitc  penfe  situ. 
At  nunc  marmoreo  subnixns  conderis  arcn, 

Omnibus  et  cultu  splendidiorc  nites. 
Nimirum  Bembus  Musis  incensus  Etruscis 
Hoc  tibi,  quem  imprimis  hae  coluere,  dedit." 

A  yet  more  magnificent  memorial  was  raised  so  lately  as  the  year  1780,  by  the  Cardinal  Gonzaga.' 

His  children  consisted  of  one  daughter  and  five  sons,  two  of  whom,  Pietro'  and  Jacopo,'  inherited  some 
portion  of  their  father's  abilities,  which  they  employed  chiefly  in  the  pious  task  of  illustrating  his  "Divina 
Commedia."  The  former  of  these  possessed  acquirements  of  a  more  profitable  kind,  and  obtained  con- 
siderable wealth  at  Verona,  where  he  was  settled,  by  the  exercise  of  the  legal  profession.  He  was 
honoured  v/kh  the  friendship  of  Petrarch,  by  whom  some  verses  were  addressed  to  him  *  at  Trevigi,  in 
1361. 

His  daughter  Beatrice '  (whom  he  is  said  to  have  named  after  the  daughter  of  Folco  Portinari)  became 
a  nun  in  the  convent  of  S.  Stefano  dell'  Uliva,  at  Ravenna ;  and,  among  the  entries  of  expenditure  by  the 
Florentine  Republic,  appears  a  present  of  ten  golden  florins  sent  to  her  in  1350,  by  the  hands  of  Boccaccio, 
from  the  state.  The  imagination  can  picture  to  itself  few  objects  more  interesting  than  the  daughter  of 
Dante,  dedicated  to  the  service  of  religion  in  the  city  where  her  father's  ashes  were  deposited,  and 
receiving  from  his  countrymen  this  tardy  tribute  of  their  reverence  for  his  divine  gfenius,  and  lier  own 
virtues. 

It  is  but  justice  to  the  wife  of  Dante  not  to  omit  what  Boccaccio  '  relates  of  her;  that  after  the  banish- 
ment of  her  husband,  she  secured  some  share  of  his  property  from  the  popular  fury,  under  the  name  of  her 
dowry ;  that  out  of  this  she  contrived  to  support  their  little  family  with  exemplary  discretion  ;  and  that  she 
even  removed  from  them  the  pressure  of  poverty,  by  such  industrious  efforts  as  in  her  former  affluence  she 
had  never  been  called  on  to  exert.  Who  does  not  regret,  that  with  qualities  so  estimable,  she  wanted  the 
sweetness  of  temper  necessary  for  riveting  the  affections  of  lier  husband  .■' 

Dante  was  a  man  of  middle  stature  and  grave  deportment;  of  a  visage  rather  long  ;  large  eyes;  an 
aquiline  nose;  dark  complexion;  large  and  prominent  cheek-bones;  black  curling  hair  and  beard;  the 
under  lip  projecting  beyond  the  upper.  He  mentions,  in  the  "  Convito,"  that  his  sight  had  been  transiently 
impaired  by  intense  application  to  books.'  In  his  dress,  he  studied  as  much  plainness  as  was  suitable  with 
his  rank  and  station  in  life ;  and  observed  a  strict  temperance  in  his  diet.  He  was  at  times  extremely 
absent  and  abstracted  ;  and  appears  to  have  indulged  too  much  a  disposition  to  sarcasm.  At  the  table  of 
Can  Grande,  when  the  company  was  amused  by  the  conversation  and  tricks  of  a  buffoon,  he  was  asked  by 
his  patron  why  Can  Grande  himself,  and  the  guests  who  were  present,  failed  of  receiving  as  much  pleasure 
from  the  exertion  of  his  talents  as  this  man  had  been  able  to  give  them.  "  Because- all  creatures  delight  in 
theu'  own  resemblance,"  was  the  reply  of  Dante.'     In  other  respects,  his  manners  are  said  to  have  been 


'  Tiraboschi.  In  the  "  Literary  Journal,"  February  i6, 1804,  p.  192, 
is  the  following  article : — "  Asubscriplion  has  been  opened  at  Florence 
for  erecting  a  mouuraeiit  in  the  cathedral  there,  to  the  memory  of 
the  great  poet  Dante.  A  drawing  of  this  monument  has  been  sub- 
mitted to  the  Florentine  Academy  of  the  Fine  Aits,  and  has  met 
with  universal  approbation."  A  monument,  executed  by  .Stefano 
Ricci  of  Arezzo,  has  since  been  erected  to  him  in  tlie  Santa  Croce 
at  Florence,  which  I  had  the  gratification  of  seeing  in  the  year 

'833- 

•  Pietro  was  also  a  poet.  His  commentary  on  the  "  Divina  Corn- 
media,"  which  is  in  Latin,  has  never  been  published.  Lionardo, 
the  grandson  of  Pietro,  came  to  Florence,  with  other  young  men  of 
Verona,  in  the  time  of  Leonardo  Aretino,  who  tells  us  that  he 
showed  him  there  the  house  of  Dante  and  of  his  ancestors. —  K/Vrt  ifi 
Dante,  To  Pietro,  the  son  of  Lionardo,  Mario  Filelfo  addressed 
bii  "Life"  of  our  poet.  The  son  of  this  Pietro,  Dante  IIL,  was 
a  man  of  letters,  and  an  elegant  poet.  Some  of  his  works  are 
preserved  in  collections  :  he  is  commended  by  Valerianus,  "  De 
Infelicitate  Lilerat,"  lib.  i.,  and  is,  no  doubt,  the  same  whom 
l.andino  s|>eaks  of  as  living  in  his  time  at  Ravenna,  and  calls 
"  uomo  molto  literato  ed  eloquente  e  degno  di  tal  sangue,  e  quale 
meritamente  si  dovrebbe  rivocar  nella  sua  antica  patria  e  nostra  re- 
publica."  In  149S.  the  Florentines  took  Landino's  advice,  and  in- 
vited him  back  to  the  city,  offering  to  restore  all  they  could  of  the 
properly  that  had  belonged  to  his  ancestors  ;  but  he  would  not  quit 
Verona,  where  he  was  established  in  much  opulence.  —  Vellulello, 
Vita.  He  aflenvards  experienced  a  sad  reverse  of  fortune.  He  had 
three  sons,  one  of  whom,  Francesco,  made  a  translation  of  Vitruvius, 
wiiich  is  supposed  to  have   perished.      A  better  fate   has   befallen 


an  elegant  dialogue  written  by  him,  which  was  published,  not  many 
years  ago,  in  the  "Anecdota  Lileraria,"  edit.  Roma,  (no  date), 
vol.  ii.,  p.  207.  It  is  entitled  "  Francisci  Aligerii  Dantis  HI. 
Filii  Dialogus  Alter  de  Antiqultatibus  Valeniinis  ex  Cod.  MS. 
Meinbranaceo.  .Ssec.  xvi.  nunc  primuin  in  lucem  editus."  Pietro, 
anoilier  son  of  D.mte  HI.,  who  was  also  a  scholar,  and  held  the 
office  of  I'roveilitore  of  Verona  in  1539,  was  the  father  of  Ginevra, 
mentioned  before,  in  Note  5,  page  vii.  See  Pclli,  p.  28,  &c. 
Velkitello,  in  his  "  Life  "  of  the  ]5oet,  acknowledges  his  obligations 
to  this  last  Pietro  for  the  information  he  had  given  him. 

"  Jacopo  is  mentioned  by  Hembo  among  the  Rimatori,  lib.  ii., 
"  Delia  Volg.  Ling.,"  at  the  beginning  ;  and  some  of  his  verses  are 
preserved  in  MS.  in  the  Vatican,  and  at  Florence.  He  was  living 
in  1342,  and  had  children,  of  whom  little  is  known.  The  names  of 
our  poet's  other  sons  were  GabricUo,  Aligero,  and  Lliseo.  The 
last  two  died  in  their  childhood.  Of  Gabriello  nothing  certain  is 
known. 

*  "Carm.,"  lib.  iii. ,  ep.  vii. 
»  Pelli,  p.  33. 

•  "Vitadi  Dante,"  p.  57,  ed.  Firenze,  1576. 

'  "  Per  affalicare  lo  viso  molto  a  studio  di  leggere,  intanto 
debilitai  gli  spiriti  visivi,  che  le  stelle  mi  pareano  tutte  d'alcuno 
albore  ombrate  :  e  per  lunga  riposanza  in  luoghi  scuri,  e  freddi,  e 
con  affreddare  lo  corpo  dell'  occhio  con  acqua  pura,  rivinsi  la  virtii 
disgregata,  che  tornai  nel  prima  buono  stato  della  vista." — Coifjito, 
p.  108. 

'  There  is  here  a  point  of  resemblance  (nor  is  it  the  only  one)  in 
the  cliaracter  of  Milton.  "  I  had  rather,"  says  the  author  of  "Para- 
dise  Lost,"  "  since  the  life  of  man  is  likened  to  a  scene,  that  all  my 


xlv 


LIFE   OF   DANTE. 


dignified  and  polite.  He  was  particularly  careful  not  to  make  any  approaches  to  flattery,  a  vice  which  he 
justly  held  in  the  utmost  abhorrence.  He  spoke  seldom,  and  in  a  slow  voice;  but  what  he  said  derived 
authority  from  the  subtilencss  of  his  observations,  somewhat  like  his  own  poetical  heroes,  who 

"  Parlavan  ndo  con  voci  soavi." 
"  Spake 
Seldom,  but  all  their  words  were  tuneful  sweet" — Hell,  It. 

He  was  connected  in  habits  of  intimacy  and  friendship  with  the  most  ingenious  men  of  his  time;  with 
Guido  Cavalcanti,'  with  Bunonaggiunta  da  Lucca,'  with  Forese  Donati,*with  Cino  da  Pistoia,*  with  Giotto,* 
the  celebrated  painter,  by  whose  hand  his  likeness*  was  preserved ;  with  Oderigi  da  Gubbio,^  the 
illuminator,  and  with  an  eminent  musician* — 

"  His  Casella,  whom  he  wooed  to  sing. 
Met  in  the  milder  shades  of  Purgatory." — Milloris  Sonnets. 

Besides  these,  his  acquaintance  e-xtended  to  some  others,  whose  names  illustrate  the  first  dawn  of  Italian 
literature :  Lapo'  degli  Uberti,  Dante  da  Majano,'*  Cecco  Angiolieri,"  Dino  Frescobaldi,"  Giovanni  di 
Virgilio,"  Giovanni  Quirino,'*  and  Francesco  Stabili,'*  who  is  better  known  by  the  appellation  of  Cecco 


entrances  and  exits  might  mix  with  such  persons  only  \vhose  worth 
erects  them  and  tlieir  actions  to  a  grave  and  tragic  deportment,  and 
not  to  have  to  do  with  clowns  and  vices." — Colaslerion,  Prose 
Iforks,  vol.  i.,  p.  339,  edit.  London,  1753. 

'  See"  Hell,"  X.,  and  Notes. 

'  See  "  Purgatory,"  xxiv.  Vet  Tiraboschi  observes,  that  though 
it  is  not  improbable  that  Buonaggiunta  was  the  contemporary  and 
friend  of  Dante,  it  cannot  be  considered  as  certain.  "  Storia  della 
Poes.  Ital.,"  torn,  i.,  p.  109,  Mr.  Malhias's  edition. 

•  See  "  Purgatory,"  xxiii.  44. 

•  Guiltorino  de'  Sigibuldi,  commonly  called  Cino  da  Pistoia  (be- 
lides  the  passage  that  will  be  cited  in  a  following  Note  from  the 
"  De  Vulgari  Eloquentia"),  is  again  spoken  of  in  the  same  treatise, 
lib.  i.,  c.  xvii.,  as  a  great  master  of  the  vem.icular  diction  in  his 
canxoni,  and  classed  with  our  poet  himself,  who  is  termed  "  Amicus 
ejus;"  and  likewise  in  lib.  ii.,  c.  ii.,  where  he  is  said  to  have  written 
of  "Love."  Ilii  verses  are  cited  too  in  other  ch.ipters.  lie  ad- 
dressed and  received  sonnets  from  Dante;  and  wrote  a  sonnet,  or 
canzone,  on  Dante's  death,  which  is  preserved  in  the  Library  of 
St.  Mark,  at  Vemcc  — Tiraboschi,  della  Poes.  Hal.,  v.  i.,  p.  116, 
and  V.  ii.,  p.  60.  The  same  "honour  was  done  to  the  memory  of 
Cino  by  Petrarch,  son.  71,  part  i.  "Celebrated  both  as  a  lawyer 
and  a  poet,  he  is  belter  knon-n  by  the  writings  which  he  has  left  in 
the  latter  of  these  characters,"  insomuch  that  Tiraboschi  has  ob- 
served, tliat  amongst  those  who  preceded  Petrarch,  there  is,  perhaps, 
none  wlio  can  be  compared  to  him  in  elegance  and  sweetness. 
"There  are  ma.ny  editions  of  his  poems,  the  most  copious  being  that 
published  at  Venice  in  15S9,  by  P.  Fauslino  Tasso  ;  in  which,  how- 
ever,  the  Padre  degli  Agoslini,  not  without  reason,  suspects  that  the 
second  book  is  by  later  liands." —  Tiraboschi,  ibid.  There  h.is  been 
an  edition  by  Seb.  Ciampi,  at  Pisa,  in  1813,  &c. ;  but  see  the  re- 
marks on  it  in  Gamba's  "Test!  di  Lingua  Ital.,"  294.  lie  was 
interred  at  Pistoia  with  this  epitaph  :  "  Cino  eximio  Juris  inter- 
pret! Bartolique  pncccptori  dignissimo  popiilus  Pisloriensis  Civi 
suo  B.  M.  fecit.  Obiit  anno  1336." — Giiidi  Panziroli  de  Claris 
Ltipiin  Iiilerprclibiis,  lib.  ii.,  cap.  xxix..  Lips.  410,  1721.  A 
Latin  letter,  supposed  to  be  addressed  by  Dante  to  Cino,  was  pub- 
lished for  the  first  time  from  a  MS.  in  tlie  Laurentian  Library,  by 
M.  Witte. 

•  See  "  Purgatory,"  xi. 

•  Mr.  E.i»;lake,  in  a  Note  to  "  Kugler's  Hand-Book  of  Painting, 
translated  by  a  Lady,"  Lond.,  1842,  p.  50,  describes  the  recovery 
and  restoration,  in  July,  1840,  of  Dante's  ponrait  by  Giotto,  in  the 
diapcl  of  the  Podestl  at  Florence,  where  it  had  been  covered  with 
whitewash  or  plaster.  But  it  could  scarcely  have  been  concealed  so 
soon  as  our  distinguished  artist  supposes,  since  Landino  speaks  of  it 
as  remaining  in  his  lime,  and  Vasari  says  it  was  still  to  be  seen  when 
he  wrote. 

'  See  "  Purgatory,"  xi. 
'  Ibid.,  canto  ii. 

•  Uipo  is  said  to  have  been  the  son  of  Farinala  degli  Uberti  (see 
"Hell,"  X.  32,  and  Tiraboschi,  "Della  Poes.  Ital,"  v.  i.,  p.  m6), 
and  the  father  of  Fazio  degli  Uberti,  author  of  the  "Dittamondo," 
a  poem,  which  is  thought,  in  the  energy  of  its  style,  to  make  some 


approaches  to  the  "  Divina  Commedia"  (ibid.,  v.  U.,  p.  63),  though 
•  Monti  passes  on  it  a  much  less  favourable  sentence  (see  his  "  Pro- 
posta,"  v.  iii.,  part  ii.,  p.  210,  8vo,  1824).     He  is  probably  the  Lapo 
mentioned  in  the  sonnet  to  Guido  Cavalcanti,  beginning, 

"  Guido  vorrei  che  tu  e  Lapo  ed  io," 
which  Mr.  Hayley  has  so  happily  translated  (see  "  Hell,"  x.  62) ; 
and  also  in  a  passage  that  occui-s  in  tlie  "  Dc  Vulgari  Eloquentia," 
V.  i.,  p.  116:  "Quanquam  fere  omnes  Tusci  in  suo  turpiloquio  sint 
obtusi,  nonnullos  Vulgaris  cxccllcntiam  cognovisse  senlimus,  scilicet 
Guidoncm  Lapum,  et  unum  alium,  Florentines,  et  Cinum  Pisto- 
rienscm,  quern  nunc  indigne  postponimus,  non  indigne  coacti." 
"  Allliongh  almost  all  the  Tuscans  are  marred  by  llic  baseness  of 
their  ilLilect,  yet  1  perceive  that  some  have  known  the  excellence  of 
the  vernacular  tongue,  namely,  Guido  Lapo"  (I  suspect  Dante  here 
means  his  two  friends  Cavalcanti  and  Uberti,  though  this  has 
hitherto  been  taken  for  the  name  of  one  pcreon),  "and  one  other '' 
(who  is  supposed  to  be  the  author  himself),  "  Florentines ;  and  last, 
though  not  of  least  regard,  Cino  da  Pistoia." 

'"  Dante  da  Majano  flourished  about  1290.  He  was  a  Florentine, 
and  composed  many  poems  in  pr.aise  of  a  Sicilian  lady,  who,  being 
herself  a  poetess,  was  insensible  neither  to  his  verees  nor  his  love,  so 
that  she  was  called  the  Nina  of  Dante. — PelH,  p.  60,  and  Tiraboschi, 
Storia  della  Poes.  Ital.,  v.  i.,  p.  137.  There  are  several  ofhissonnets 
addressed  to  our  poet,  who  declares,  in  his  answer  to  one  of  them, 
that  although  he  knows  not  the  name  of  its  author,  he  discovers  in  it 
the  traces  of  a  great  mind. 

"  Of  Cecco  Angiolieri,  Boccaccio  relates  a  pleasant  story  in  the 
"  Decameron,"  Giorn.  9,  Nov.  4.  He  lived  towards  the  end  of  the 
thirteenth  century,  and  wrote  several  sonnets  to  Dante,  which  are  in 
Allacci's  collection.  In  some  of  them  he  wears  the  semblance  of  a 
friend;  but  in  one  the  mask  drops,  and  shows  that  he  was  well 
disposed  to  be  a  rival.  See  Crescimbeni,  "Com.  alia  Storia  di 
Vnlgar  Pocsia,"  v.  ii.,  par.  ii.,  lib.  ii.,  p.  103;   Pclli,  p.  61. 

•^  Dino,  son  of  l.ambcrtuccio  Frescobaldi.  Crescimbeni  (ibid., 
lib.  iii.,  p.  120)  assures  us  that  he  w.as  not  inferior  to  Cino  da  Pistoix — 
Pclli,  p.  6t.  He  is  said  to  have  been  a  friend  01  Dante's,  in  whose 
writings  I  have  not  observed  any  mention  of  him.  Boccaccio,  in 
his  "  Life  of  Dante,"  calls  Dino  "  in  que'  tempi  lamosissimo  dicitore 
in  rima  in  Firenze." 

"  Giovanni  di  Virgilio  addressed  two  Latin  eclogues  to  Dante, 
which  were  answered  in  similar  compositions;  and  is  said  to  have 
been  his  friend  and  admirer.  See  Boccaccio,  "Vita  di  Dante;"  and 
Pelli,  p.  137.  Dante's  poetical  genius  sometimes  breaks  through  tlie 
rudeness  of  style  in  his  two  Latin  eclogues. 

"  Mutatori- had  seen  several  sonnets,  addressed  to  Giovanni 
Quirino  by  Dante,  m  a  MS.  preserved  in  the  Ambrosian  Library. 
"  Della  Perfetta  Poesia  ItaL,"  ediz,  Venezia,  1770,  torn.  L,  lib.  i., 
a  iii.,  p.  9. 

"  For  the  correction  of  many  errors  respecting  this  writer,  see 
Tiraboschi,  '"Storia  della  Lett.  Ital.,"  torn,  v.,  lib.  ii.,  cap.  ii., 
§  XV.,  &c.  He  was  burned  in  1317.  In  his  "Acerb.-i,"  a  poem  in 
testa  rima,  he  has  taken  several  occasions  of  venting  his  spleen 
against  his  great  contemporary. 


LIFE   OF    DANTE. 


XV 


D'AscoH  ;  most  of  them  either  honestly  declared  their  sense  of  his  superiority,  or  betrayed  it  by  their  vain 

endeavours  to  detract  from  the  estimation  in  which  he  was  held. 

He  is  said  to  have  attained  some  excellence  in  the  art  of  designing;  which  may  easily  be  believed, 
when  we  consider  that  no  poet  has  afforded  more  lessons  to  the  statuary  and  the  painter,'  in  the  variety  of 
objects  which  he  represents,  and  in  the  accuracy  and  spirit  with  which  they  are  brought  before  the  eye. 
Indeed,  on  one  occasion,'  he  mentions  that  he  was  employed  in  delineating  the  figure  of  an  angel,  on  the 
first  anniversary  of  Beatrice's  death.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  the  seed  of  the  "  Paradiso  "  was  thus  cast  into 
his  mind;  and  that  he  was  now  endeavouring  to  express  by  the  pencil  an  idea  of  celestial  beatitude,  which 
could  only  be  conveyed  in  its  full  perfection  through  the  medium  of  song. 

As  nothing  that  related  to  such  a  man  was  thought  unworthy  of  notice,  one  of  his  biographers,*  who 
had  seen  hi*  handwriting,  has  recorded  that  it  was  of  a  long  and  delicate  character,  and  remarkable  for 
neatness  and  accuracy. 

Dante  wrote  in  Latin  a  treatise  "De  Monarchia,"  and  two  books  "De  Vuigari  Eloquio."*  In  the 
former  he  defends  the  imperial  rights  against  the  pretensions  of  the  Pope,  with  arguments  that  are 
sometimes  chimerical,  and  sometimes  sound  and  conclusive.  The  latter,  which  he  left  unfinished,  contains 
not  only  much  information  concerning  the  progress  which  the  vernacular  poetry  of  Italy  had  then  made, 
but  some  reflections  on  the  art  itself,  that  prove  him  to  have  entertained  large  and  philosophical  principles 
respecting  it. 

His  Latin  style,  however,  is  generally  rude  and  unclassical.  It  is  fortunate  that  he  did  not  trust  to  it, 
as  he  once  intended,  for  the  work  by  which  his  name  was  to  be  perpetuated.  In  the  use  of  his  own 
language  he  was,  beyond  measure,  more  successful.  The  prose  of  his  "  Vita  Nuova,"  and  his  "  Convito," 
although  five  centuries  have  intervened  since  its  composition,  is  probably,  to  an  Italian  eye,  still  devoid 
neither  of  freshness  nor  elegance.  In  the  "Vita  Nuova,"  which  he  appears  to  have  written  about  his  twenty- 
eighth  year,  he  gives  an  account  of  his  youthful  attachment  to  Beatrice.  It  is,  according  to  the  taste  of 
those  times,  somewhat  mystical :  yet  there  are  some  particulars  in  it  which  have  not  at  all  the  air  of  a 
fiction,  such  as  the  death  of  Beatrice's  father,  Folco  Portinari ;  her  relation  to  the  friend  whonj  he  esteemed 
next  after  Guido  Cavalcanti;  his  own  attempt  to  conceal  his  passion,  by  a  pretended  attachment  to  another 
lady;  and  the  anguish  he  felt  at  the  death  of  his  mistress.'  He  tells  us,  too,  that  at  the  time  of  her  decease, 
he  chanced  to  be  composing  a  canzone  in  her  praise,  and  that  he  was  interrupted  by  that  event  at  the 
conclusion  of  the  first  stanza;  a  circumstance  which  we  can  scarcely  suppose  to  have  been  a  mere  invention. 

Of  the  poetry,  with  which  the  "  Vita  Nuova  "  is  plentifully  interspersed,  the  two  sonnets  that  follow 
may  be  taken  as  a  specimen.  Near  the  beginning  he  relates  a  marvellous  vision,  which  appeared  to  him  in 
sleep,  .soon  after  his  mistress  had  for  the  first  time  addressed  her  speech  to  him;  and  of  this  dream  lie  thus 
asks  for  an  interpretation : — 

"  To  every  heart  that  feels  the  gentle  flame. 

To  whom  this  present  saying  conies  in  sight, 

In  that  to  me  tlieir  thoughts  tliey  may  incUte, 

All  health  !  in  Love,  our  lord  and  master's  name. 
Now  on  its  way  the  second  quarter  came 

Of  those  twelve  hours,  wherein  the  stars  are  bright, 

When  Love  was  seen  before  me,  in  such  might. 

As  to  remember  shakes  with  awe  my  frame. 
Suddenly  came  he,  seeming  glad,  and  keeping 

My  heart  in  liand  ;  and  in  his  arms  he  had 

My  lady  in  a  folded  garment  sleeping  : 
He  waked  her  ;  and  that  heart  all  burning  bade 

Her  feed  upon,  in  lowly  guise  and  sad  : 

Then  from  my  view  he  turned  ;  and  parted,  weeping." 


'  Besides  Filippo  Brunelleschi,  who,  as  Vasari  tells  us,  "  diede 
molta  opera  alle  cose  di  Dante,"  and  Michael  Angelo,  whose  "  Last 
Judgment"  is  probably  (he  mightiest  effort  of  modern  art,  as  the  loss 
of  his  sketches  on  the  margin  of  the  "  Divina  Commedia  "  may  be 
regarded  as  the  severest  loss  the  art  has  sustained ;  besides  these, 
Andrea  Orgagiia.Gio.  Angelico  di  Fiesole,  Luca  Signorelli,  Spinello 
Aretino,  Uiacomo  da  t'ontormo,  and  Aurelio  Lomi  have  been  re- 
coimted  among  the  many  artists  who  have  worked  on  the  same 
original.  See  Cancellicri,  "  Osservazioni,"  &c.,  p.  75.  To  these  we 
may  justly  pride  ourselves  in  being  able  to  add  the  names  of  Rey- 
nolds, Fuseli,  and  Flaxman.  The  frescoes  by  Cornelius  in  the  Villa 
Massimi  at  Kome,  lately  executed,  entitle  the  Germans  to  a  share  in 
this  distinction. 

'  "  In  quel  giomo,  nel  quale  si  compieva  I'anno,  che  questa  donna 
era  fatta  delle  cittadine  di  vita  etema,  io  mi  sedeva  in  parte,  uella 
quale,  ricordandomi  di  lei,  io  disegnava  uno  Angelo  sopra  certe  tavo- 
letter  e  nientre  io  il  disegnava,  volsi  gli  occliL" —  fi/a  Nuova,  p.  2C8. 


'  Leonardo  Aretino.  A  specimen  of  it  was  believed  to  exist  when 
Pelli  wrote,  about  sixty  years  ago,  and  perhaps  still  exists  in  a  MS. 
presei-ved  in  the  archives  at  Gubbio,  at  the  end  of  which  was  the 
sonnet  to  Busone,  said  to  be  in  the  handwriting  of  Dante. — Pelti, 
p.  SI. 

*  These  two  were  first  published  in  an  Italian  translation,  supposed 
to  be  Trisino's,  and  were  not  allowed  to  be  genuine,  tili  the  Latin 
original  was  published  at  Paris  in  1577. —  Tirabosehi.  A  copy, 
written  in  the  fourteenth  century,  is  said  to  have  been  lately  found 
in  the  public  library  at  Grenoble.  See  Fraticelli's  "  Opere  minori 
di  Dante,"  l2mo,  Firenze,  1840,  v.  iii.,  part  ii.,  p.  16.  A  collation 
of  this  MS   is  very  desirable. 

»  Beatrice's  marriage  to  Simone  de'  Bardi,  which  is  collected  from 
a  clause  in  her  father's  will,  dated  January  15,  1287,  would  have 
been  a  fact  too  unsentimental  to  be  introduced  into  tlie  "  Vita 
Nuova,"  and  is  not,  I  bciieve,  noticed  by  any  of  the  early  bio- 
graphers. 


Xvi  LIFE   OF   DANTE. 

To  this  sonnet  Guido  Cavalcanti,  amongst  others,  returned  an  answer  in  a  composition  of  the  same 
form,  endeavouring  to  give  a  happy  turn  to  the  dream,  by  which  the  mind  of  the  poet  had  been  so  deeply 
impressed.  From  the  intercourse  thus  begun,  when  Dante  was  eighteen  years  of  age,  arose  that  friendship 
which  terminated  only  with  the  death  of  Guido. 

The  other  sonnet  is  one  tliat  was  written  after  the  death  of  Beatrice : — 

"Ah,  pilgrims  I  ye  that,  hnply  musing,  go. 

On  aught  save  that  which  on  your  road  ye  meet, 

From  land  sodislant,  tell  me,  I  entreat. 

Come  ye,  as  by  your  mien  and  looks  ye  show  ? 
Why  mourn  ye  not,  as  through  ihcsc  gales  of  woe 

Ve  wend  along  our  city's  midmost  street, 

Even  like  those  who  nothing  seem  to  weet 

What  chance  hath  fall'n,  why  she  is  grieving  so  T 
If  ye  to  listen  but  a  while  would  stay. 

Well  knows  tliis  heart,  which  inly  sigheth  sore. 

That  ye  would  then  pass,  weeping  on  your  way. 
Oh,  hear  :  her  Beatrice  is  no  more ; 

And  words  there  are  a  man  of  her  might  say, 

Would  make  a  stranger's  eye  that  loss  deplore." 

In  the  "  Convito,"'  or  Banquet,  which  did  not  follow  till  some  traie  after  his  bani.shment,  he  explains 
very  much  at  large  the  sense  of  three  out  of  fourteen  of  his  canzoni,  the  remainder  of  which  he  had 
intended  to  open  in  the  same  manner.  "  The  viands  at  his  banquet,"  he  tells  his  readers,  quaintly  enough, 
"will  be  set  out  in  fourteen  different  manners;  that  is,  will  consist  of  fourteen  canzoni,  the  materials  of 
which  are  love  and  virtue.  Without  the  present  bread,  they  would  not  be  free  from  some  shade  of  obscurity, 
so  as  to  be  prized  by  many  less  for  their  usefulness  than  for  their  beauty;  but  the  bread  will,  in  the  form  of 
the  present  exposition,  be  that  light  which  will  bring  forth  all  their  colours,  and  display  their  true  meaning 
to  the  view.  And  if  the  present  work,  which  is  named  a  Banquet,  and  I  wish  may  prove  so,  be  handled 
after  a  more  manly  guise  than  the  'Vita  Nuova,'  I  intend  not,  therefore,  that  the  former  should  in  any  part 
derogate  from  the  latter,  but  that  the  one  should  be  a  help  to  the  other :  seeing  that  it  is  fitting  in  reason 
for  this  to  be  fervid  and  impassioned ;  that,  temperate  and  manly.  For  it  becomes  us  to  act  and  speak 
otherwise  at  one  age  than  at  another;  since  at  one  age  certain  manners  are  suitable  and  praiseworthy, 
which  at  another  become  disproportionate  and  blameable."  He  then  apologises  for  speaking  of  himself. 
"  I  fear  the  disgrace,"  says  he,  "of  having  been  subject  to  so  much  passion  as  one,  reading  these  canzoni, 
may  conceive  me  to  have  been ;  a  disgrace  that  is  removed  by  my  speaking  thus  unreservedly  of  myself, 
which  shows  not  passion,  but  virtue,  to  have  been  the  moving  cause.  I  intend,  moreover,  to  set  forth  their 
true  meaning,  which  some  may  not  perceive,  if  I  declare  it  not."  He  ne.xt  proceeds  to  give  many  reasons 
why  his  commentary  was  not  written  rather  in  Latin  than  in  Italian  ;  for  which,  if  no  excuse  be  now 
thought  necessary,  it  must  be  recollected  that  the  Italian  language  was  then  in  its  infancy,  and  scarce  sup- 
posed to  possess  dignity  enough  for  the  purposes  of  instruction.  "  The  Latin,"  he  allows,  '•  would  have 
explained  his  canzoni  better  to  foreigners,  as  to  the  Germans,  the  English,  and  others ;  but  then  it  must 
have  expounded  their  sense,  without  the  power  of,  at  the  same  time,  transferring  their  beauty  ; "  and  he  soon 
after  tells  us,  that  many  noble  persons  of  both  sexes  were  ignorant  of  the  learned  language.  The  best  cause, 
however,  which  he  assigns  for  this  preference,  was  his  natural  love  of  his  native  tongue,  and  the  desire  he 
felt  to  exalt  it  above  the  Proven<,al,  which  by  many  was  said  to  be  the  more  beautiful  and  perfect  lan- 
guage ;  and  against  such  of  his  countrymen  as  maintained  so  unpatriotic  an  opinion  he  inveighs  with  much 
warmth. 

In  his  exposition  of  the  first  canzone  of  the  three,  he  tells  the  reader  that  "the  lady  of  whom  he  was 
enamoured  after  his  first  love  was  the  most  beauteous  and  honourable  daughter  of  the  Emperor  of  the 
Universe,  to  whom  Pythagoras  gave  the  name  of  Philosophy : "'  and  he  applies  the  same  title  to  the  object 
of  his  affections,  when  he  is  commenting  on  the  other  two. 

The  purport  of  his  third  canzone,  which  is  less  mysterious,  and,  therefore,  perhaps  more  likely  to  please 
than  the  others,  is  to  show  that  "  virtue  only  is  true  nobility."  Towards  the  conclusion,  after  having  spoken 
of  virtue  itself,  much  as  Pindar  would  have  spoken  of  it,  as  being  "  the  gift  of  God  only" — 

"  Che  solo  Iddio  all'  anima  la  dona," 

he  thus  describes  it  as  acting  throughout  the  several  stages  of  life : 

"  L'  anima,  cui  adorna,"  &c. 


'  Pertlcarl  ("Degli  Scrlttori  del  Trecento,"  lib.  ii.,  c  v.),  speaking 
of  the  "Convito,"  observes  that  Salviali  himself  has  termed  it  the 
most ,  vidcn;  and  principal  of  all  excellent  prose  works  in  Italian. 


On  the  other  hand,  B.iibo  ("  Vita  di  Dante,"  v.  H.,  p.  86)  pronounces 
it  to  be  certainly  the  lowest  among  Dante's  writings.  In  this  differ' 
ence  of  opinion  a  foreigner  may  be  permitted  to  jud)'e  for  himself. 


LIFE   OF   DANTE.  XvH 

"  The  soul,  that  goodness  like  to  this  adorns, 

HoUIeth  it  not  conceal'd ; 

But,  from  her  first  espousal  to  the  frame, 

Shows  it,  till  death,  reveal'd. 

Obedient,  sweet,  and  full  of  seemly  shame. 

She,  in  the  primal  age. 

The  person  decks  willi  beauty  ;  moulding  it 

Fitly  through  every  part. 

In  riper  manhood,  temperate,  firm  of  heart, 

With  love  replenish'd,  and  with  courteous  praise, 

In  loyal  deeds  alone  she  hath  delight. 

And,  in  her  elder  days, 

For  prudent  and  just  largeness  is  she  known  ; 
^  Rejoicing  with  herself, 

^  That  wisdom  in  her  staid  discourse  be  shown. 

Then,  in  life's  fourth  division,  at  the  last 

She  weds  with  God  .ngain. 

Contemplating  the  end  she  shall  attam  ; 

And  looketh  back  ;  and  blesieth  the  time  past." 

His  lyric  poems,  indeed,  generally  stand  much  in  need  of  a  comment  to  explain  them;  but  the 
difficulty  arises  rather  from  the  thoughts  themselves,  than  from  any  imperfection  of  the  language  in  which 
those  thoughts  are  conveyed.  Yet  they  abound  not  only  in  deep  moral  reflection.s,  but  in  touches  of 
tenderness  and  passion. 

Some,  it  has  been  already  intimated,  have  supposed  that  Beatrice  was  only  a  creature  of  Dante's 
imagination  ;  and  there  can  be  no  question  but  that  he  has  invested  her,  in  the  "  Divina  Commedia,"  with 
the  attributes  of  an  allegorical  being.  But  who  can. doubt  of  her  having  had  a  real  existence,  when  she  is 
spoken  of  in  such  a  strain  of  passion  as  in  these  lines  ? 

"  Quel  ch'  ella  par,  quando  un  pjco  sorride, 

Non  si  pu6  dicer  ne  tenere  a  mente, 

Si  e  nuovo  miracolo  e  gentile." — Vila  Numa. 
"  Mira  che  quando  ride 

Passa  ben  di  dolcezza  ogni  altra  cosa." — Cant.  xv. 

The  canzone  from  which  the  last  couplet  is  taken  presents  a  portrait  which  might  well  supply  a  painter 
with  a  far  more  exalted  idea  of  female  beauty  than  he  could  form  to  himself  from  the.  celebrated  Ode  of 
Anacreon  on  a  similar  subject.  After  a  minute  description  of  those  parts  of  her  form  which  the  garments 
of  a  modest  woman  would  suffer  to  be  seen,  he  raises  the  whole  by  the  superaddition  of  a  moral  grace  and 
dignity,  such  as  the  Christian  religion  alone  could  supply,  and  such  as  the  pencil  of  Raphael  afterwards 
aimed  to  represfent : 

"  Umile  vergognosa  e  temperata, 
E  sempre  a  vertii  grata. 
Intra  suoi  be'  costumi  un  atto  regn.i, 
Che  d'  ogni  riverenza  la  fa  degna." ' 

One  or  two  of  the  sonnets  prove  that  he  could  at  times  condescend  to  sportiveness  and  pleasantry. 
The  following,  to  Brunetto,  I  should  conjecture  to  have  been  sent  with  his  "Vita  Nuova,"  which  was 
written  the  year  before  Brunetto  died : 

"  llaster  BnineUo,  this  I  send,  entreating 

Ye'U  entertain  this  lass  of  mine  at  Easter  j 

She  does  not  come  among  you  as  a  feaster  ; 

No  :  shs  has  need  of  reading,  not  of  eating. 
Nor  let  her  tncl  you  at  some  merry  meeting, 

Laughing  amidst  buffoons  and  drollers,  lest  her 

Wise  sentence  should  escape  a  noisy  jester: 

She  must  be  wooed,  and  is  well  worth  the  weeting. 
If  in  this  sort  you  fail  to  make  her  out. 

You  have  amongst  you  many  sapient  men. 

All  famous  as  was  Albert  of  Cologne. 
I  have  been  posed  amid  that  learned  rout. 

And  if  they  cannot  spell  her  right,  why  then 

Call  Master  Giano,  and  the  deed  is  done."* 


'  I  am  aware  that  this  canzone  i»  not  ascribed  to  Dante  in  the  i  little  doubt  of  its  being  genuine,  that  he  founds  on  it  the  chief  argu 

collection  of  "  Sonetti  e  Canzoni,"  printed  by  the  Giunti  in  1527.  |  ment  to  prove  an  old  picture  in  his  possession  to  be  intended  fora 

Monti,  in  his  "Proposta,"  under  the  word  "  Induare,"  remarks  that  j  representation   of    Beatrice.      See   Fraticelli's  "  Opere    Minon  di 

it  is  quite  in  the  style  of  Fazio  degli  Uberti;  and  adds,  that  a  very  Dante,"  tom.  i.,  p.  203,  l2mo,  Firenze,  1834. 

rare  MS.  possessed  by  Perticari  restores  it  to  that  writer.     On  the  i  ^  Fraticelli   (ibid.,    pp.   302,    303)    questions  the  genuineness  o< 

other  hand,  Missirini,  in  a  late  treatise  '•  On  the  Love  of  Dante  and  |  this  sonnet,  and  decides  on  the  spuriousness  of  that  which  fohow*. 

on  the  Portrait  of  Beatrice,"  printed  at  Florence  in  1832,  makes  so  !  I  do  not,  in  cither  instance,  feel  the  justness  of  his  reasons. 

e 


XV 11 1 


LIFE    OF    DANTE. 


Another,  though  on  a  more  serious  subject,  is  yet  remarkable  for  a  fancifulness  such  as  that  with 
which  Chaucer,  by  a  few  spirited  touclies.  often  conveys  to  us  images  more  strii<ing  Uian  others  have  done 
by  repeated  and  elaborate  efforts  of  skill : 

"  Came  Melancholy  to  my  lide  one  day, 

And  said,  '  I  must  a  little  bide  with  Ihec  ••' 

And  brought  along  with  her  in  company 

Sorrow  and  Wralh.— Quoth  I  to  her,  '  Away  : 
I  will  have  none  of  you  :  make  no  delay.' 

And.  like  a  Greek,  she  gave  me  stout  reply. 

Then,  as  she  talk'd,  I  look'd,  and  did  espy 

V«'hcre  Love  was  coming  onward  on  the  way 
A  garment  new  of  cloth  ol  black  he  had, 

And  on  his  head  a  hat  of  mourning  wore ; 

And  he,  of  truth,  unfeigncdly  was  crying. 
Forthwith  I  ask'd,  'What  ails  ihee,  caitiff  lad?' 

And  he  rejoin'd,  '  Sad  thought  and  anguish  sore, 

Sweet  brother  mine  I  our  lady  lies  a-dying.'  " 

For  purity  of  diction,  the  rime  of  our  author  are,  I  think,  on  the  whole,  preferred  by  Miiratori  to  his 
"Divina  Commedia,"  though  that  also  is  allowed  to  be  a  model  of  the  pure  Tuscan  idiom.  To  this  singular 
production,  which  has  not  only  stood  the  test  of  ages,  but  given  a  tone  and  colour  to  the  poetry  of  modern 
Europe,  and  even  animated  the  genius  of  Milton  and  of  Michael  Angelo,  it  would  be  diflTicult  to  assign  its 
place  according  to  the  received  rules  of  criticism.  Some  have  termed  it  an  epic  poem,  and  others  a  satire; 
but  it  matters  little  by  what  naine  it  is  called.  It  suffices  that  the  poem  seizes  on  the  heart  by  its  two  great 
holds,  terror  and  pity  ;  detains  the  fancy  by  an  accurate  and  lively  delineation  of  the  objects  it  represents  ; 
and  displays  throughout  such  an  originality  of  conception,  as  leaves  to  Homer  and  Shakespeare  alone  the 
power  of  challenging  the  pre-eminence  or  equality.'  The  fiction,  it  has  been  remarked,*  is  admirable,  and 
the  work  of  an  inventive  talent  truly  great.  It  comprises  a  description  of  the  heavens  and  heavenly  bodies  ; 
a  description  of  men,  their  deserts  and  punishments,  of  supreme  happiness  and  utter  misery,  and  of  the 


'  Yet  his  pretensions  to  originality  have  not  been  wholly  un- 
questioned. Uante,  it  has  been  supposed,  was  more  immediately 
influenced  in  his  choice  of  a  subject  by  the  "Vision"  of  Alberico, 
written  in  barbarous  I.atin  prose  about  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth 
century.  The  incident  which  is  said  to  have  given  birth  to  this 
composition  is  not  a  little  marvellous.  Alberico,  the  son  of  noble 
parents,  and  bom  at  a  castle  in  the  neighbourhood  of  .Mvito,  in  the 
diocese  of  Sora,  in  the  year  I  lot,  or  soon  after,  when  he  had  com- 
pleted his  «iinth  year,  was  seized  with  a  violent  fit  of  illness,  which 
deprived  him  of  his  senses  for  the  space  of  nine  days.  During  the 
continuance  of  this  trance  he  had  a  vision,  in  which  he  seemed  to 
himself  to  be  carried  a\viy  by  a  dove,  and  conducted  by  St.  Peter,  in 
company  with  two  angels,  through  Purgatory  and  Hell,  to  survey  the 
torments  of  sinners,  the  saint  giving  him  information,  as  they  pro- 
ceeded, respecting  what  he  saw ;  after  which  they  were  transported 
together  through  the  seven  heavens,  and  taken  up  into  Paradise  to 
behold  the  glory  of  the  blessed.  As  soon  as  he  came  to  himself 
again,  he  was  permitted  to  make  profession  of  a  religious  life  in  the 
monastery  of  Monte  Casino.  As  the  account  he  gave  of  his  vision 
was  strangely  altered  in  the  reports  that  went  abroad  of  it,  Girardo, 
the  abbot,  employed  one  of  the  monks  to  t.-.ke  iovm  a  relation  of  it, 
dictated  by  the  mouth  of  Alberico  himself.  Senioretto,  who  was 
chosen  abbot  in  1127,  not  contented  with  this  narrative,  although  it 
seemed  to  have  every  chance  of  being  authentic,  ordered  Alberico  to 
revise  and  correct  it,  which  he  accordingly  did  with  the  assistance  of 
Pietro  Diacono,  who  was  his  associate  in  the  monastery,  and  a  few 
years  younger  than  himself;  and  whose  testimony  to  his  extreme 
and  perpetual  self-mortification,  and  to  a  certain  abslracteduess  of 
demeanour,  which  showed  him  to  converse  with  other  thoughts  than 
those  of  this  life,  is  still  on  record.  The  time  of  Alberico's  death 
is  not  known ;  but  it  is  conjectured  that  he  reached  to  a  good  old 
age.  His  "  Vision,"  with  a  preface  by  the  first  editor,  Guido,  and 
preceded  by  a  letter  from  Alberico  himself,  is  preserved  in  a  MS. 
numliere<l  257,  in  the  archives  of  the  monastery,  which  contains  the 
works  of  Plelro  Diacono,  and  which  was  written  between  the  years 
1159  and  1 181.  The  probability  of  our  poet's  having  been  indebted 
to.il  was  first  remarked  either  by  Giovanni  Bottari  in  a  letter  in- 
serted in  the  "  Deca  di  Slmbnli,"  and  printed  at  Rome  in  1753;  or, 
as  F.  Cancellieri  conjectures,  in  the  preceding  year  by  Alessio  Sim- 
maco  Mazzocchi.  In  1801  extracts  from  Alberico's  "Vision"  were 
laid  before  the  public  in  a  quarto  pamphlet,  printed  at  Rome,  with 
the  title  of  "  Leltcra  di  Eustazio  DIcearcheo  ad  Angelio  Sidicino," 


under  which  appellations  the  writer,  Giustino  di  Costanzo,  concealed 
his  own  name  and  that  of  his  friend,  Luigi  Anton.  Sompano;  and 
the  whole  has  since,  in  1814,  been  edited  in  the  same  city  by  Fran- 
cesco Cancellieri,  who  has  added  to  the  original  an  Italian  transla- 
tion. Such  parts  of  it  as  bear  a  marked  resemblance  to  passages  in 
the  "Divina  Commedia"  will  be  found  distributed  in  their  proper 
places  throughout  the  following  Notes.  The  reader  will  in  these 
probably  see  enough  to  convince  him  that  our  author  had  read  this 
singular  work,  although  nothing  to  detract  from  his  claim  to  origi- 
nality. Long  before  the  public  notice  had  been  directed  to  this 
sup|50sed  imitation,  Malatcsta  Porta,  in  the  Dialogue  entitled 
"  Rossi,"  as  referred  to  by  Fontanini  in  his  "  Eloqucnza  ItaUana." 
had  suggested  the  probability  that  Dante  had  taken  his  plan 
from  an  ancient  romance,  called  "  Gucrrino  di  Durazzo  il  Mes- 
chino."  The  above-mentioned  Boltari,  however,  adduced  rer.sons 
for  concluding  that  this  book  was  written  originally  in  Provencal, 
and  not  translated  into  Italian  till  after  the  time  of  our  poet, 
by  one  Andrea  di  Barberino,  who  embellished  it  with  many  images, 
and  particularly  with  similes,  borrowed  from  the  "Divina  Com- 
media." Mr.  Warton,  in  one  part  of  his  "History  of  English 
Poetry,"  vol.  i.,  §  xvlii.,  p.  463,  has  observed  that  a  poem,  entitled 
"  Le  Voye  on  le  Songe  d'Enfer,"  was  written  by  Raoul  de 
Houdane,  about  the  year  1180;  and  in  another  part  (vol.  ii., 
§  X.,  p.  219)  he  has  attributed  the  origin  of  Dante's  poem  to 
that  "favourite  apologue,  the  'Somnlum  Scipionis '  of  Cicero, 
which,  in  Chaucer's  words,  treats 

'  Of  heaven  and  hell 
And  yearth  and  souls  that  therein  dwell.' 

Assembly  of  Foules." 

It  is  likely  that  >  little  research  might  discover  many  other  sources 
from  which  his  invention  might,  with  an  equal  appearance  of  tnith,  be 
derived.  The  method  of  conveying  instruction  or  entertainment 
under  (he  form  of  a  vision,  in  which  the  living  should  be  made  to 
converse  with  the  dead,  was  so  obvious,  that  it  would  be,  perhaps, 
difficult  to  mention  any  country  in  which  it  had  not  been  employed. 
It  is  the  scale  of  magnificence  on  which  this  conception  was  framed, 
and  the  wonderfiil  development  of  it  in  all  its  parts,  that  may  justly 
entitle  our  poet  to  rank  anion;;  the  few  minds  to  whom  the  power  0/ 
a  great  creative  faculty  can  be  ascribed. 
•  Leonardo  Aretino,  "  Vita  di  Dante." 


LIFE   OF   DANTE, 


XIX 


middle  state  between  the  two  extremes:  nor,  perhaps,  was  there  ever  any  one  who  chose  a  more  ample  and 
fertile  subject,  so  as  to  afford  scope  for  the  expression  of  all  his  ideas,  from  the  vast  multitude  of  spirits 
that  are  introduced  speaking  on  such  different  topics,  who  are  of  so  many  different  countries  and  ages,  and 
under  circumstances  of  fortune  so  striking  and  so  diversified,  and  who  succeed  one  to  another  with  such  a 
rapidity  as  never  suffers  the  attention  for  an  instant  to  pall. 

His  solicitude,  it  is  true,  to  define  all  his  images  in  such  a  manner  as  to  bring  them  distinctly  within 
the  circle  of  our  vision,  and  to  subject  them  to  the  power  of  the  pencil,  sometimes  renders  him  little  better 
than  grotesque,  where  Milton  has  since  taught  us  to  expect  sublimity.  But  his  faults,  in  general,  were  less 
those  of  the  poet  than  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived.  For  his  having  adopted  the  popular  creed  in  all  its 
extravagance,  we  have  no  more  right  to  blame  him  than  we  should  have  to  blame  Homer  because  he  made 
use  of  the  hf^then  deities,  or  Shakespeare  on  account  of  his  witches  and  fairies.  The  supposed  influence 
of  the  stars  on  the  disposition  of  men  at  their  nativity,  was  hardly  separable  from  the  distribution  which  he 
had  made  of  the  glorified  spirits  through  the  heavenly  bodies,  as  the  abodes  of  bliss  suited  to  their  several 
endowments.  And  whatever  philosophers  may  think  of  the  matter,  it  is  certainly  much  better,  for  the  ends 
of  poetr)',  at  least,  that  too  much  should  be  believed,  rather  than  less,  or  even  no  more  than  can  be  proved 
to  be  true.  Of  what  he  considered  the  cause  of  civil  and  religious  liberty,  he  is  on  all  occasions  the  zealous 
and  fearless  advocate ;  and  of  that  higher  freedom,  which  is  seated  in  the  will,  he  was  an  assertor  equally 
strenuous  and  enlightened.  The  contemporary  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  if  he  has  given 
his  poem  a  tincture  of  the  scholastic  theology,  which  the  writings  of  that  extraordinary  man  had  rendered 
so  prevalent,  and  without  which  it  could  not  perhaps  have  been  made  acceptable  to  the  generality  of  his 
readers.  The  phraseology  has  been  accused  of  being  at  times  hard  and  uncouth ;  but,  if  this  is  acknow- 
ledged, yet  it  must  be  remembered  that  he  gave  a  permanent  stamp  and  character  to  the  language  in  which 
he  wrote,  and  in  which,  before  him,  nothing  great  had  been  attempted ;  that  the  diction  is  strictly  vernacular, 
without  any  debasement  of  foreign  idiom;  that  his  numbers  have  as  much  variety  as  the  Italian  ton"-ue,  at 
least  in  that  kind  of  metre,  could  supply;  and  that,  although  succeeding  writers  may  have  surpassed  him  in 
the  lighter  graces  and  embellishments  of  style,  not  one  of  them  has  equalled  him  in  succinctness,  vivacity, 
and  strength. 

Never  did  any  poem  rise  so  suddenly  into  notice  after  the  death  of  its  author,  or  engage  the  public 
attention  more  powerfully,  than  the  "  Divina  Commedla."  This  cannot  be  attributed  solely  to  its  intrinsic 
excellence.  The  freedom  with  which  the  writer  had  treated  the  most  distinguished  characters  of  his  time, 
gave  it  a  further  and  stronger  hold  on  the  curiosity  of  the  age:  many  saw  in  it  their  acquaintances,  kins- 
men, and  friends,  or,  what  scarcely  touched  them  less  nearly,  their  enemies,  either  consigned  to  infamy  or 
recorded  with  honour,  and  represented  in  another  world  as  tasting 

"  Of  heaven's  sweet  cup,  or  poisonous  drug  of  hell ;" 

so  that  not  a  page  could  be  opened  without  e.Kciting  the  strongest  personal  feelings  in  the  mind  of  the 
reader.  These  sources  of  interest  must  certainly  be  taken  into  our  account,  when  we  consider  the  rapid 
diffusion  of  the  work,  and  the  unexampled  pains  that  were  taken  to  render  it  universally  intelligible.  Not 
only  the  profound  and  subtile  allegory  which  pervaded  it,  the  mysterious  style  of  prophecy  which  the  writer 
occasionally  assumed,  the  bold  and  unusual  metaphors  which  he  everywhere  employed,  and  the  great 
variety  of  knowledge  he  displayed  ;  but  his  hasty  allusions  to  passing  events,  and  the  description  of  persons 
by  accidental  circumstances,  such  as  some  peculiarity  of  form  or  feature,  the  place  of  their  nativity  or  abode, 
some  office  they  held,  or  the  heraldic  insignia  they  bore — all  asked  for  the  help  of  commentators  and 
expounders,  who  were  not  long  wanting  to  the  task.  Besides  his  two  sons,  to  whom  that  labour  most  pro- 
perly belonged,  many  others  were  found  ready  to  engage  in  it.  Before  the  century  had  expired,  there 
appeared  the  commentaries  of  Accorso  de'  Bonfantini,'  a  Franciscan;  of  Micchino  da  Mezzano,  a  canon  of 
Ravenna ;  of  Fra.  Riccardo,  a  Carmelite ;  of  Andrea,  a  Neapolitan ;  of  Guiniforte  Bazzisio,  a  Bergamese ; 
of  Fra.  Paola  Albertino;  and  of  several  writers  whose  names  are  unknown,  and  whose  toils,  when  Pelli 
wrote,  were  concealed  in  the  dust  of  private  libraries.''  About  the  year  1350,  Giovanni  Visconti,  Archbishop 
of  Milan,  selected  six  of  the  most  learned  men  in  Italy — two  divines,  two  philosophers,  and  two  Florentines — 
and  gave  it  them  in  charge  to  contribute  their  joint  endeavours  towards  the  compilation  of  an  ample 
comment,  a  copy  of  which  is  preserved'in  the  Laurentian  library  at  Florence.  Who  these  were  is  no  longer 
known ;  but  Jacopo  della  Lana'  and    Petrarch  are  conjectured  to  have  been  among  the  number.     At 


•  Tiraboschi,  "Storia  deUa  Toes.  lul.,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  39;  and 
Pelli,  p.  119. 

»  The  "Letteradi  Eustazio  Dicearcheo,"  &c.,  mentioned  in  Note 
I  on  p.  xviii.,  contains  many  extracts  from  an  early  MS.  of  tlie 
"Divina  Commedia,"  with  marginal  notes  iii  Latin,  preserved  in 
the  monastery  01"  Monte  Casino.  To  these  extracts  I  shall  have 
Irequent  occasion  to  rclei 


•  Pelli,  p.  119,  infonnsusth.it  the  writer — who  is  termed  some- 
times "the  good,"  sometimes  the  "old  commentator,"  by  tl-.cse 
deputed  to  correct  the  "  Decameron,"  in  the  preface  to  their 
explanatoiy  notes— and  who  began  his  work  in  1334,  is  known 
to  be  Jacopo  della  L.ina ;  and  tliat  his  commentary  was  trans- 
lated into  Latin  by  Alberigo  da  Kosada,  Doctor  of  Laws  at 
Bologna. 


XX 


LIFE   OF    DANTE. 


Rorence  a  public  lecture  was  founded  for  the  purpose  of  explaining  a  poem  that  was  at  the  same  time  the 
boast  and  the  disgrace  of  the  city.  The  decree  for  this  institution  was  passed  in  1373  ;  and  in  that  year 
IJiJccaccio,  the  first  of  their  writers  in  prose,  was  appointed,  with  an  annual  salary  of  100  florins,  to 
deliver  lectures  inone  of  the  churches,  on  the  first  of  their  poets.  On  this  occasion  he  wrote  his  comment, 
which  extends  only  to  a  part  of  the  "  Inferno,"  and  has  been  printed.  In  1375  Boccaccio  died ;  and  among 
his  successors  in  this  honourable  employment  we  find  the  names  of  Antonio  Piovano  in  13S1,  and  of 
lulippo  Viliani  in  1401. 

The  example  of  Florence  was  speedily  followed  by  Bologna,  by  Pisa,  by  Piacenza.  and  by  Venice. 
Bcnvenuto  da  Imola,  on  whom  the  office  of  lecturer  devolved  at  Bologna,  sustained  it  for  the  space  of  ten 
years.  From  the  comment,  which  he  composed  for  the  purpose,  and  which  he  sent  abroad  in  1379,  those 
passages  that  tend  to  illustrate  the  history  of  Italy  have  been  published  by  MuratorL'  At  Pisa  the  same 
charge  was  committed  to  Francesco  da  Buti,  about  1386. 

On  the  invention  of  printing,  in  the  succeeding  century,  Dante  was  one  of  those  writers  who  were  first 
and  most  frequently  given  to  the  press.  But  I  do  not  mean  to  enter  on  an  account  of  the  numerous 
editions  of  our  author  which  were  then  or  have  since  been  published,  but  shall  content  myself  with 
adding  such  remarks  as  have  occurred  to  me  on  reading  the  principal  writers,  by  whose  notes  those  editions 
have  been  accompanied. 

Of  the  four  chief  commentators  on  Dante,  namely  Landino,  Vellutcllo,  Venturi,  and  Lombard!,  the  first 
appears  to  enter  most  thoroughly  into  the  mind  of  the  poet.  Within  little  more  than  a  century  of  the  time 
in  which  Dante  had  lived ;  himself  a  Florentine,  while  Florence  was  still  free,  and  still  retained  something 
of  her  ancient  simplicity;  the  associate  of  those  great  men  who  adorned  the  age  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici; 
Landino'  was  the  most  capable  of  forming  some  estimate  of  the  mighty  stature  of  his  compatriot,  who  was 
indeed  greater  than  them  alL  His  taste  for  the  classics,  which  were  then  newly  revived,  and  had  become 
the  principal  objects  of  public  curiosity,  as  it  impaired  his  relish  for  what  has  not  inaptly  been  termed  the 
romantic  literature,  did  not,  it  is  true,  improve  him  for  a  critic  on  the  "  Divina  Commedia."  The  adventures 
of  King  Arthur,  by  which  Dante  had  been  delighted,  appeared  to  Landino  no  better  than  a  fabulous  and 
inelegant  book.'  He  is,  besides,  sometimes,  unnecessarily  prolix ;  at  others,  silent,  where  a  real  difficulty 
asks  for  solution ;  and,  now  and  then,  a  little  visionary  in  his  interpretation.  The  commentary  of  his 
successor,  Vellutcllo,*  is  niore  evenly  diffused  over  the  text;  and  although  without  pretensions  to  the  higher 
qualities,  by  which  Landino  is  distinguished,  he  is  generally  under  the  influence  of  a  sober  good  sense,  which 
renders  him  a  steady  and  useful  guide.  Venturi.*  who  followed  after  a  long  interval  of  time,  was  too  much 
swayed  by  his  principles  or  his  prejudices,  as  a  Jesuit,  to  suffer  him  to  judge  fairly  of  a  Ghibelline  poet ;  and 
either  this  bias  or  a  real  want  of  tact  for  the  higher  excellence  of  his  author,  or,  perhaps,  both  these 
imperfections  together,  betray  him  into  such  impertinent  and  injudicious  sallies,  as  dispose  us  to  quarrel  with 
our  companion,  though,  in  the  main,  a  very  attentive  one,  generally  acute  and  lively,  and  at  times  even  not 
devoid  of  a  better  understanding  for  the  merits  of  his  master.  To  him,  and  in  our  own  times,  has  succeeded 
the  Padre  Lombard!.*  This  good  Franciscan,  no  doubt,  must  have  given  himself  much  pains  to  pick  out 
and  separate  Ihose  ears  of  grain  which  had  escaped  tlie  flail  of  those  who  had  gone  before  him  in  that 
labour.  But  his  zeal  to  do  something  new  often  leads  him  to  do  something  that  is  not  over  wise ;  and  if  on 
certain  occasions  we  applaud  his  sagaciousness,  on  others  we  do  not  less  wonder  that  his  ingenuity  should 
have  been  so  strangely  perverted.  His  manner  of  writing  is  awkward  and  tedious  ;  his  attention,  more  than 
is  necessary,  directed  to  grammatical  niceties;  and  his  attachment  to  one  of  the  old  editions  so  excessive, 
as  to  render  him  disingenuous  or  partial  in  his  representation  of  the  rest.  But  to  compensate  this,  he  is  a 
good  Ghibelline;  and  his  opposition  to  Venturi  seldom  fails  to  awaken  him  into  a  perception  of  those 
beauties  which  had  only  exercised  the  spleen  of  the  Jesuit. 

He  who  shall  undertake  another  commentary  on  Dante'  yet  completer  than  any  of  those  which  have 
hitherto  appeared,  must  make  use  of  these  four,  but  depend  on  none.  To  them  he  must  add  several  others 
of  minor  note,  whose  diligence  will  nevertheless  be  found  of  some  advantage,  and  among  whom  I  can 
particularly  distinguish  Volpi.  Besides  this,  many  commentaries  and  marginal  annotations,  that  are  yet 
inedited,  remain  to  be  examined  ;  many  editions  and  manuscripts*  to  be  more  carefully  collated  ;  and  many 


'  "  Antiq.  Ital.,"  T.  i.  The  Italian  comment  published  under 
•he  name  of  Bcnvenuto  da  Imola,  at  Milan,  in  1473,  and  at  Venice, 
in  1477,  is  altogether  different  from  that  which  Muratori  has  brought 
to  .light,  and  appears  to  be  the  same  as  the  Italian  comment  of 
Jacopo  della  Lana  before  mentioned.     See  Tiraboschi. 

'  Cristofforo  Landino  was  Iwm  in  I424,  and  died  in  1 504  or 
1508.  See  Bandini,  "Specimen  Litterat.  Klorent.,"  edit.  Florence, 
ITS'. 

•  "  II  favoloto,  e  non  mollo  elegante  libro  della  Tavola  Rotonda." 
— L^uJiuo,  in  tht  NoUt  tt  the  ParaJiu,  xvi. 


*  Allessandro  Vcllutello  was  bom  in  1519. 

*  Pompeo  Venturi  was  bom  in  1693,  and  died  in  1 752. 

'  liaUlassare  Ixjmbardi  died  Januaiy  2,  l8o2.  See  Cancellicri, 
"  Osscrvazioni,"  &a,   Rom.-i.,  18I4,  p.  112. 

'  Francesco  Cionacci,  a  noble  Florentine,  projected  an  edition 
of  the  "  Divina  Commedia "  in  100  volumes,  each  containing  a 
single  canto,  followed  by  all  the  commentaries,  according  to  the 
order  of  time  in  which  they  were  written,  and  accompanied  by  a 
I^tin  tmnslalion  for  the  use  of  foreigners. — Canctllieri,  Ibid.,  p.  64. 

*  The  Count  Mortara  has  lately  shown  me  many  various  readings 


LIFE   OF    DANTE.  Xxi 

separate  dissertations  and  works  of  criticism  to  be  considered.  But  this  is  not  all.  That  line  of  reading 
which  the  poet  himself  appears  to  have  pursued  (and  there  are  many  vestiges  in  his  works  by  which  we 
shall  be  enabled  to  discover  it)  must  be  diligently  tracked  ;  and  the  search,  I  have  little  doubt,  would  lead 
to  sources  of  information  equally  profitable  and  unexpected. 

If  there  is  anything  of  novelty  in  the  Notes  which  accompany  the  following  translation,  it  will  be  found 
to  consist  chiefly  in  a  comparison  of  the  poet  with  himself,  that  is,  of  the  "  Divina  Commedia"  with  his  other 
writings ; '  a  mode  of  illustration  so  obvious,  that  it  is  only  to  be  wondered  how  others  should  happen  to 
have  made  so  little  use  of  it  As  to  the  imitations  of  my  author  by  later  poets,  Italian  and  English,  which 
I  have  collected  in  addition  to  those  few  that  had  been  already  remarked,  they  contribute  little  or  nothing 
to  the  purposes  of  illustration,  but  must  be  considered  merely  as  matter  of  curiosity,  and  as  instances  of 
tlae  mannef-in  which  the  great  practitioners  in  art  do  not  scruple  to  profit  by  their  predecessors. 


he  has  remarked  on  collating  the  numerous  MSS.  of  Dante  in  the      i  '  The  edition  which  is  referred  to  in  the  following  Notes  it  that 

Canonici  collection  at  the  Bodleiau.  I      printed  at  Venice  in  2  voL«.  8vo,  1793. 


CHRONOLOGICAL    VIEW 


o* 


THE     AGE     OF     DANTE. 


1265  May. — DANTE,  son  of  Alighieri  degli  Alighieri  and 

Bella,  is  born  at  Florence.     Of  his  own  ancestry  he 

speaks  in  the  "  Paradise,"  canto  xv.,  xvi. 
In  the  same  year,  Manfredi,  King  of  Naples  and  Sicily, 

is  defeated  and  slain  by  Charles  of  Anjou.       "  Hell," 

xxviii.  13;  "Purgatory,"  lii.  no. 
Guido  Novello  of  Polenta  obtains  the  sovereignty  of 

Ravenna.     "  Hell,"  xxvii.  38. 
battle  of  Evesham.     Simon  de  Montfort,  leader  of  the 

barons,  defeated  and  slain. 

1266  Two  of  the  Frati  Godenti  chosen  arbitrators  of  the 

differences  of  Florence.     "  Hell,"  xxiii.  104. 

Gianni  dc'  Soldanieri  heads  the  populace  in  that  city. 
"  Hell,"  xxxii.  118. 

Roger  Bacon  sends  a  copy  of  his  "  Opus  Majus  "  to 
Pope  Clement  IV. 
1268  Charles  of  Anjou  puts  Conradine  to  death,  and  be- 
comes King  of  Naples.      "Hell,"  xxviii.  16;  "Pur- 
gatory,'*" XX.  66. 
1270  Louis  IX.  of  France  dies  before  Tunis.     His  widow, 
Beatrice,  daughter  of  Raymond  Berenger,  lived  till 
1295.     "  Purgatory,"  vii.  126;  "  Paradise,"  vi.  135. 
1272  Henry  III.  of  England  is   succeeded  by  Edward   I. 
"  Purgatory,"  vii.  129. 

Guy  de  Montfort  murders  Prince  Henry,  son  of  Richard, 
King  of  the  Romans,  and  nephew  of  Henry  III.  of 
England,  at  Viterbo.  "Hell,"  xii.  119.  Richard 
dies,  as  is  supposed,  of  grief  for  this  event. 

Abulfeda,  the  Arabic  writer,  is  born. 
1274  Our  poet  first  sees  Beatrice,  daughter  of  Folco  Porti- 
nari. 

Rodolph  acknowledged  Emperor. 

Philip  III.  of  France  marries  Mary  of  Brabant,  who 
lived  till  1321.     "  Purgatory,"  vL  24. 

Thomas  Aquinas  dies.  "  Purgatory,;'  xx.  67;  "  Para- 
dise," X.  96. 

Buonaventura  dies.     "  Paradise,"  xii.  25. 
1 27s  Pierre  de  la  Brosse,  secretary  to  Philip  III.  of  France, 
executed.     "  Purgatory,"  vi.  23. 

1 276  Giotto,  the  painter,  is  born.     "  Purgatory,"  xi.  95. 
Pope  Adrian  V.  dies.     "  Purgatory,"  xix.  97. 

Guido  Guinicclli,  the  poet,  dies.  "  Purgatory,"  xi.  96, 
xxvi.  83. 

1277  Pope  John  XXL  die*.    "  Paradise,"  xii.  126k 


1278  Ottocar,  King  of  Bohemia,  dies.    "Purgatory,"  vii.  97. 

Robert  of  Gloucester  is  living  at  this  time. 

1279  D'onysius  succeeds  to  the  throne  of  Portugal     "Para- 

dise," xix.  135. 

1280  Albertus  Magnus  dies.     "  Paradise,"  x.  95. 

Our  poet's  friend,  Busone  da  Gubbio,  is  born  about 

this  time.     See  the  Life  of  Dante,  prefixed. 
William  of  Ockham  is  born  about  this  time. 

1281  Pope  Nicholas  111.  dies.     "Hell,"  xix.  71. 

Dante  studies  at  the  Universities  of  Bologna  and  Padua. 
About  this  time  Ricordano  Malaspina,  the  Florentine 
annalist,  dies. 

1282  The  Sicilian  vespers.     "Paradise,"  viii.  80. 

The  French  defeated  by  the  people  of  Forii.     "  HelL" 

xxvii.  41. 
Tribaldello  de'  Manfredi  betrays  the  city  of  Faenza 

"HelV'xxxii.  119. 

1284  Prince  Charles  of  Anjou  is  defeated  and  made  prisoner 

by  Rugier  de  Lauria,  admiral  to  Peter  III.  of  Arragon. 

"  Purgatory,"  xx.  78. 
Charles  I.,  King  of  Naples,  dies.     "Purgatory,"  vii.  ill. 
Alonzo  X.  of  Castile  dies.     He  caused  the  Bible  to  be 

translated  into  Castilian,  and  all  legal  instruments  to 

be  drawn  up  in  that  language.     Sancho  IV.  succeeds 

him. 
Philip  (next  year  IV.  of  France)  marries  Jane,  daughter 

of  Henry  of  Navarre.     "  Purgatory,"  vii.  102. 

1285  Pope  Martin  IV.  dies.     "Purgatory,"  xxiv.  23. 
Philip  III.  of  France  and  Peter  III.  of  Arragon  die. 

"  Purgatory,"  vii.  loi,  1 10. 
Henry   II.,   King  of  Cyprus,  comes  to   the  throne. 

"  Paradise,"  xix.  144. 
Simon  Memmi,  the  painter,  celebrated  by  Petrarch,  is 

born. 
1387  Guido  dalle  Colonne  (mentioned  by  Dante  in  his  "De 

Vulgari  Eloquentia")  write?  "The  War  of  Troy." 
Pope  Honorius  IV.  dies. 
1288  Haquin,  King  of  Norway,  makes  war  on  Denmark. 

"Paradise,"  xix.  135. 
Count  Ugolino  de'  Gherardeschi  dies  of  famine,  "  Hell," 

xxxiii.  14. 
The  Scottish    poet,   Thomas    Learmouth,  commonly 

called    Thomas    the    Rhymer,     is     living    at    thii 

time: 


CHRONOLOGY. 


XXUl 


1289  Dante  is  in  the  battle  of  Campaldino,  where  the  Floren- 

tines defeat  the  people  of  Arezzo,  June  11.     "Pur- 
gatory," V.  90. 

1290  Beatrice  dies.     "Purgatory,"  xxxii.  2. 

He  serves  in  the  war  waged  by  the  Florentines  i.|joil 

the  Pisans,  and  is  present  at  the  surrender  of  Capntns 

in  the  autumn.     "Hell,"  xxi.  92. 
Giiido  dalle  Colonne  dies 
William,  Marquis  of  Montferrat.  is  made  prisoner  by 

his  traitorous  subjects  at  Alessandria,  in  Lombardy- 

"  Pur^ory,"  vii.  133. 
Michael  Scot  dies.     "  Hell,"  xx.  iij. 

1291  Dante  marries  Gemma  de'  Donati,  with  whom  he  lives 

unhappily.     By  this  marriage  he  had  five  sons  and  a 

daughter. 
Can  Grande  della  Scala  is  born,  March  9.     "  Hell," 

i.  98;    "Purgatory,"  xx.   16;    "Paradise,"  xvii.  75, 

xxvii.  135. 
The  renegade  Christians  assist  the  Saracens  to  recover 

St.  John  D'Acre.     "  Hell,"  xxvii   84. 
The  Emperor  Rodolph  dies.      "  Purgatory,"  vi.   104, 

vii.  91. 
Alonzo   HI.    of  Arragon   dies,   and   is   succeeded  by 

James  II.     "  Purgatory,"  vii.  113  ;    "Paradise,"  xix. 

133- 
Eleanor,   widow  of  Henry   III.,   dies.      "  Paradise," 

vi.  135- 

1292  Pope  Nicholas  IV.  dies 
Roger  Eacon  dies. 

John  Baliol   King  of  Scotland,  crowned. 
1291  Clement  V.  abdicates  the  Papal  chair.     "Hell."  iii.  56. 
Dante  writes  his  "Vita  Nuova." 
Fra  Guittone  d'Arezzo,  the  poet.  dies.     "Purgatoiy," 

xxiv.  56. 
Andrea  Taffi.  of  Florence,  the  worl<er  in  mosaic,  dies. 

1295  D.inte's    preceptor,   Brunetto    Latini,    dies.       "Hell," 

XV.  28. 
Cli.irlcs   Martel.    King   of    Hungary,   visits   Florence, 

"  Paradise,"  viii.  57,  and  dies  in  the  s.nme  year. 
Frederick,  son  of  Peter  III.  of  Arragon,  becomes  King 

of  Sicily.      "  Purgatory,"  vii.  117;    "  Paradise,"  xix. 

127. 
Taddco,  the  physician  of  Florence,  called  the  Hippo- 

cratean,  dies.     "Paradise,"  xii.  77. 
Marco  Polo,  the  traveller,  returns  from  the   East  to 

Venice. 
Ferdinand  IV.  of  Castile  comes  to  the  throne.     "  Para- 
dise," xix.  122. 

1296  Forese,  the  companion  of  Dante,  dies.     "Purgatory," 

xxxiii.  44. 
Sadi,  the  most  celebrated  of  the  Persian  writers,  dies. 
War   between   England    and   Scotland,   which   termi- 
nates in  the  submission  of  the  Scots  to  Edward  I. ; 
but    in   the  following    year.    Sir   William    Wallace 
attempts  the  deliverance  of  Scotland.     "  Paradise," 
xtx.  121. 
1298  The  Emperor  Adolphus  falls  in  a  battle  with  his  rival, 
Albert  I.,  who  succeeds  him  in  the  empire.    "  Purga- 
tory," vi.  98. 
Jacopo  da  Varagine,  Archbishop  of  Genoa,  author  of 
the  "  Legenda  Aurea,"  dies. 
1300  The  Bianchi  and  Neri  parties  take  their  rise  in  Pistoia. 
"  HeU,"  xxxii.  6c»- 


1300  This  is  the  year  in  which  Dante  supposes  himself  to  see 

his  Vision.     "  Hell,"  i.  i ;  xxi.  109. 
He  is  chosen  chief  magistrate,  or  first  of  the  Priors  of 

Florence,  and  continues  in  office  from  June  15  to 

August  15. 
Cimabue,  the  painter,  dies.     "  Purgatory,"  xi.  93. 
Guido  Cavalcanti,  the  most  beloved  of  our  poet's  friends, 

dies.     "  Hell,"  x.  S9  ;   "  Purgatory,"  xi.  96 

1301  The  Bianchi  party  expels  the  Neri  from  Pistoia.   "  Hell," 

xxiv.  142. 

1302  January  27.    During  his  absence  at  Rome,  Dante  is 

mulcted  by  his  fellow-citizens  in  the  sum  of  8,000  lire, 
and  condemned  to  two  years'  banishment. 

1302  March  to.     He  is  sentenced,  if  taken,  to  be  burned. 

Fulcieri  de'Calboli  commits  great  atrocities  on  certain 

of  the  Ghibelline  party.     "  Purgatory,"  xiv.  61. 
Carlino  de'  Pazzi  betrays  the  castle  di  Piano  TravignCj 

in  Valdarno.  to  the  Florentines.     "  Hell,"  xxxii.  67. 
The   French  vanquished   in   the  battle    of   Courtrai. 

"  Purgatory,"  xx.  47. 
James,  King  of  Majorca  an4  Minorca,  dies.    "Paradise," 

xix.  133. 

1303  Pope  Boniface  VII 1.  dies.      "  Hell,"  xix.  55 ;   "Purga- 

tory," XX.  86,  xxxii.  146  ;  "  Paradise,"  xxvii.  20 
The  other  exiles  appoint  Dante  one  of  a  council  of 
twelve,  under  Alessandro  da  Romena.  He  appears 
to  have  been  much  dissatisfied  with  his  colleagues. 
"  Paradise,"  xvii.  61. 
Robert  of  Brunne  translates  into  English  verse  the 
"  Manuel  de  Peches,"  a  treatise  written  in  French  by 
Robert  Grosseteste,  Bishop  of  Lincoln. 

1304  Dante  joins  with  the  exiles  in  an  unsuccessful  attack  on 

the  city  of  Florence. 
May.     The  bridge  over  the  Arno  breaks  down  during 

a  representation  of  the  infernal  torments  exhibited 

on  that  river.     "Hell,"  xxvi.  9. 
July  20.     Petrarch,  whose  father  had  been  banished 

two  years  before  from  Florence,  is  born  at  Arezzo. 

1305  Wiiiccslnus  II  ,  King  of  Bohemia,  dies.     "  Purgatory," 

vii.  99;   "Paradise,"  xix.  123. 
A  conflagration  happens  at  Florence.     "  Hell,"  xxvi.  9. 
Sir  William  Wallace  is  executed  at  London. 

1306  Dante  visits  Padua. 

1307  He  is  in  Lunigiana  with  the  Marchese  Marcello  Mala- 

spina.     "  Purgatory,"  viii.  133,  xix.  140. 
Dolcino,  the  fanatic,  is  burned.     "  Hell,"  xxviii.  53. 
Edward  1 1,  of  England  comes  to  the  throne. 

1308  The  Emperor  Albert  I.  murdered.     "  Purgatory,"  vi. 

98;   "Paradise,"  xix.  1 14. 

Corso  Donati,  Dante's  political  enemy,  slain.     "Pur- 
gatory," xxiv.  81. 
He  seeks  an  asylum  at  Verona,  under  the  roof  of  the 

Signori  della  Scala.     "  Paradise,"  xvii.  69. 
He  wanders,  about  this  time,  over  various  parts  of  Italy. 

See  his  "  Convito."     He  is  at  Paris  a  second  time  ; 

and,  according  to  one  of  the  early  commentators, 

visits  Oxford. 
Robert,  the  patron  of  Petrarch,  is  crowned  King  of 

Sicily.     "  Paradise,"  i.x.  2. 
Duns  Scotus  dies.     He  was  born  about  the  same  time 

as  Dante. 

1309  Cliarles  II.,  King  of  Naples,  dies.      "Paradise,"   xix, 

125. 


XXIV 


CHRONOLOGY. 


1310  The  Order  oJ  the  Templars  abolished.    "  Purgator)-," 

XX.  94. 

Jean  de  Meun,  the  continuer  of  the  Roman  de  la  Rose, 
dies  about  this  time. 

Pier  Crescenzi  of  Bologna  writes  his  book  on  agri- 
culture, in  Latin. 

1311  Fra  Giordano  da  Kivalta,  of  Pisa,  a  Dominican,  the 

author  of  sermons  esteemed  for  the  purity  of  the 
Tuscan  language,  dies. 

1312  Robert,  King  of  Sicily,  opposes  the  coronation  of  the 

Emperor  Henry  VII.     "  Paradise,"  viii.  59. 

Ferdinand  IV.  of  Castile  dies,  and  is  succeeded  by 
Alonzo  XI. 

Dino  Coiiip.igni,  a  distinguished  Florentine,  concludes 
his  history  of  his  own  time,  written  in  elegant  Italian. 

Caddo  Gaddi,  the  Florentine  artist,  dies. 
131 J   The  Emperor  Henry  of  Lu.\emburgh,  by  whom  Dante 
had  hoped  to  be  restored  10  Florence,  dies.    "  Para- 
dise," xvii.  80,  XXX.  135.      Henry  is  succeeded   by 
Lewis  of  Bavaria. 

Dante  takes  refuge  at  Ravenna,  with  Guido  Noveilo  da 
Polenta. 

Giovanni  Boccaccio  is  bora. 


1313  Pope  Qement  V.  dies.     "Hell,"  xix.  86;   "Paradise," 

xxvii.  53,  XXX.  141. 

1314  Philip  IV.  of  France  dies.      "Purgatory,"  vii.   108; 

"Paradise,"  xix.  117. 
Louis  X.  succeeds. 

Ferdinand  IV.  of  Sp.tin  dies.     "  Paradise,"  xix.  122. 
Giacopo  da   Carrara  defeated  by   Can  Grande,  who 

makes   himself   master   of    Vicenza.      "Paradise," 

be.  45. 

1315  Louis  X.  of  France  marries  Clemenza,  sister  to  our 

poet's  friend,    Charles   Martel,   King  of   Hungary. 
"  Paradise,"  ix.  2. 

1316  Louis  X.  of  France  dies,  and  is  succeeded  by  Philip  V. 
John  XXII.  elected  Pope.    "  Paradise,"  xxvii.  53. 
Joinville,  the  French  historian,  dies  about  this  time, 

1320  About  this  time  John  Gower  is  born,  eight  years  before 

his  friend  Chaucer. 

1321  July.     Dante  dies  at  Ravenna,  of  a  complaint  brought 

on  by  disappointment  at  bis  failure  in  a  negotiation 
which  he  liad  been  conducting  with  the  Venetians, 
for  his  patron  Guido  Noveilo  da  Polenta. 
His  obsequies  are  sumptuously  performed  at  Ravenna 
by  Guido,  who  himself  died  in  the  ensuing  year. 


p.  I. 


In  the  midway  of  this  our  mortal  Hie, 
I  found  me  in  a  gloomy  wood,  astray. 

Canto  I.,  lines  I,  2. 


THE    VISION     OF     DANTE. 


I?p|[L 


CANTO    I. 


ARGUMENT. 

The  writer,  having  lost  his  way  in  a  gloomy  forest,  and  being  hindered  by  certain  wild  beasts  from.ascending  a  mountain, 

is  met  by  Virgil,  who  promises  to  show  him  the  punishments  of  Hell,  and  afterwards  of  Purgatory  ;  and  that  he  shall 
then  be  conducted  by  Beatrice  into  Paradise.     He  follows  the  Roman  poet. 

T  N  the  midway^  of  this  our  mortal  life, 
I  found  me  in  a  gloomy  wood,  astray 
Gone  from  the  path  direct :  and  e'en  to  tell, 
It  were  no  easy  task,  how  savage  wild 
That  forest,  how  robust  and  rough  its  growth, 
Which  to  remember"  only,  my  dismay 
Renews,  in  bitterness  not  far  from  death. 
Yet,  to  discourse  of  what  there  good  befell, 
All  else  will  I  relate  discover'd  there. 

How  first  I  enter'd  it  I  scarce  can  say, 
Such  sleepy  dulness  in  that  instant  weigh'd 
My  senses  down,  when  the  true  path  I  left ; 
But  when  a  mountain's  foot  I  reach'd,  where  closed 
The  valley  that  had  pierced  my  heart  with  dread, 
I  look'd  aloft,  and  saw  his  shoulders  broad 
Already  vested  with  that  planet's  beam,* 
Who  leads  all  wanderers  safe  through  every  way. 


•  In  the  midway. — That  the  era  of  the  Poem  is  in- 
tended by  these  words  to  be  fixed  to  the  thirty-fifth  year 
of  the  poet's  age,  a.D.  1300,  will  appear  more  plainly  in 
Canto  xxi.,  where  that  date  is  explicitly  marked.  In  his 
"Convito,"  human  life  is  compared  to  an'  arch  or  bow, 
the  highest  point  of  which  is,  in  those  well  framed  by 


nature,  at  their  thirty-fifth  year.      "  Opere  di   Dante," 
ediz.  Ven.  Svo,  1793,  torn,  i.,  p.  195. 

'  Which  to  renumber. — "  Even  when  I  remember  I  am 
afraid,  and  trembling  taketh  hold  on  my  flesh,"  Job 
xxi.  6. 

*  That  planet's  beam. — The  sun. 

B 


THE    VISION. 


18-43. 


Then  was  a  little  respite  to  the  fear, 
That  in  my  heart's  recesses'  deep  had  lain 
All  of  that  night,  so  pitifully  past : 
And  as  a  man,  with  difficult  short  breath, 
Forespent  with  toiling,  'scaped  from  sea  to  shore, 
Turns"  to  the  perilous  wide  waste,  and  stands 
At  gaze ;  e'en  so  my  spirit,  that  yet  fail'd, 
Struggling  with  terror,  turn'd  to  view  the  straits 
That  none  hath  past  and  lived.     My  weary  frame 
After  short  pause  re-comforted,  again 
I  journey 'd  on  over  that  lonely  steep, 
The  hinder  foot^  still  firmer.     Scarce  the  ascent 
Began,  when,  lo  !  a  panther,*  nimble,  light. 
And  cover'd  with  a  Speckled  skin,  appear'd  ; 
Nor,  when  it  saw  me,  vanish'd ;  rather  strove 
To  check  my  onward  going ;  that  ofttimes, 
With  purpose  to  retrace  my  steps,  I  turn'd. 

The  hour  was  morning's  prime,  and  on  his  way 
Aloft  the  sun  ascended  with  those  stars ^ 
That  with  him  rose  when  Love  divine  first  moved 
Those  its  fair  works  :  so  that  with  joyous  hope 
All  things  conspired  to  fill  me,  the  gay  skin* 
Of  that  swift  animal,  the  matin  dawn, 
And  the  sweet  season.     Soon  that  joy  was  chased. 
And  by  new  dread  succeeded,  when  in  view 
A  lion^  came,  'gainst  me  as  it  appear'd, 


•  My  hearfs  recesses. — Nel  lago  del  cuor.  Lombardi 
cites  an  imitation  of  this  by  Redi  in  his  "  Ditirambo  :" 

"  I  buon  vini  son  quegli,  che  acquetano 
Le  procelle  si  fosche  e  rubelle, 
Che  nel  lago  del  cuor  I'anime  inquietano." 

•  Turns. — So  in  our  poet's  second  psalm  : 

"  Come  colui,  che  andando  per  lo  bosco, 
Da  spino  punto,  a  quel  si  volge  e  guarda." 
"  Even  as  one,  in  passing  through 'a  wood, 
Pierced  by  a  thorn,  at  which  he  turns  and  looks." 

•  The  hinder  foot. — It  is  to  be  remembered  that  in 
ascending  a  hill  the  weight  of  the  body  rests  on  the  hinder 
foot. 

*  A  panther. — Ple.asure  or  luxury. 

*  With  those  starsi — The  sun  was  in  Aries,  in  which 
sign  he  supposes  it  to  have  begun  its  course  at  the  creation. 

*  The  gay  skin. — A  late  editor  of  the  "  Divina  Corn- 


media,"  Signor  Zotti,  has  fpoken  of  the  present  trans- 
lation as  the  only  one  that  has  rendered  this  passage 
rightly :  but  Mr.  Hayley  had  shown  me  the  way,  in  his 
very  skilful  version  of  the  first  three  Cantos  of  the 
"  Inferno,"  inserted  in  the  Notes  to  his  "  Essay  on  Epic 
Poetry  : " 

"  I  now  was  raised  to  hope  sublime 
By  these  bright  omens  of  ray  fate  benign, 
The  beauteous  beast  and  the  sweet  hour  of  prime." 

All  the  commentators  whom  I  have  soea  understand  our 
poet  to  say  that  the  season  of  the  year  and  the  hour  of 
the  day  induced  him  to  hope  for  the  gay  skin  of  the 
panther  ;  and  there  is  something  in  the  sixteenth  Canto, 
verse  107,  which  countenances  their  interpretation,  al- 
though that  which  I  have  followed  still  appears  to  me  the 
more  probable. 
f  A  lion. — Pride  or  ambition. 


J3 


3 


y    c 


4) 


o 
'-0 


C 
n! 

a, 


/».  3- 


A  lion  came,  'gainst  me  as  it  appear'd, 
With  his  head  held  aloft,  and  hunger-mad. 

Canto  I.,  lines  43,  44. 


44—67. 


HELL. CANTO    L 


3 


With  his  head  held  aloft  and  hunger-mad, 
That  e'en  the  air  was  fear-struck.     A  she-wolf 
Was  at  his  heels,  who  in  her  leanness  seem'd 
Full  of  all  wants,  and  many  a  land  hath  made 
Disconsolate  ere  now.     She  with  such  fear 
O'erwhelm'd  me,  at  the  sight  of  her  appall'd. 
That  of  the  height  all  hope  I  lost.     As  one 
Who,  with  his  gain  elated,  sees  the  time 
When  all  unwares  is  gone,  he  inwardly 
Mourns  with  heart-griping  anguish  ;  such  was  I, 
Haunted  by  that  fell  beast,  never  at  peace, 
Who  coming  o'er  against  me,  by  degrees 
Impell'd  me  where  the  sun  in  silence  rests.* 

While  to  the  lower  space  with  backward  step 
I  fell,  my  ken  discern 'd  the  form  of  one 
Whose  voice  seem'd  faint  through  long  disuse  of  speech. 
When  him  in  that  great  desert  I  espied, 
**  Have  mercy  on  me,"  cried  I  out  aloud, 
"Spirit!  or  living  man!  whate'er  thou  be." 

He  answer'd  :  "  Now  not  man,  man  once  I  was, 
And  born  of  Lombard  parents,  Mantuans  both 
By  country,  when  the  power  of  Julius^  yet 
Was  scarcely  firm.     At  Rome  my  life  was  past, 
Beneath  the  mild  Augustus,  in  the  time 


■  A  tht-wolf. — Avarice.  It  cannot  be  doubted  that 
the  image  of  these  three  beasts  coming  against  him  is 
taken  by  our  author  from  the  prophet  Jeremiah  (v.  6) : 
"  Wherefore  a  lion  out  of  the  forest  shall  slay  them,  and 
a  wolf  of  the  evenings  shall  spoil  them,  a  leopard  shall 
watch  over  their  cities."  Rossetti,  following  Dionisi  and 
other  later  commentators,  interprets  Dante's  leopard  to 
denote  Florence,  his  lion  the  King  of  France,  and  his 
wolf  the  Court  of  Rome.  It  is  far  from  improbable  that 
our  author  might  have  had  a  second  allegory  of  this  sort 
in  his  view  ;  even  as  Spenser,  in  the  introductory  letter  to 
his  poem,  tells  us  that  "in  the  '  Faery  Queen*  he  meant 
Glory  in  his  general  intention,  but  in  his  particular  he 
conceived  the  most  excellent  and  glorious  person  of  his 
sovereign  the  Queen.  And  yet,"  he  adds,  "  in  some 
places  else  I  do  otherwise  shadow  her."  Such  involution 
of  allegorical  meanings  may  well  be  supposed  to  have 
been  frequently  present  to  the  mind  of  Dante  throughout 
the  composition  of  this  poem.  Whether  his  acute  and 
eloquent  interpreter,  Rossetti,  may  not  have  been  carried 
much  too  far  in  the  pursuit  of  a  favourite  hypothesis,  is 
another  question  ;  and  I  must  avow  my  disbelief  of  the 


secret  jargon  imputed  to  our  poet  and  the  otiier  writers  <A 
that  time  in  the  "Comment  on  thcDivina  Commedia,"  and 
in  the  "  Spirito  Antipapale,"  the  latter  of  which  works  is 
.  familiarised  to  the  English  reader  in  Miss  Ward's  faithful 
translation. 
'  Where  the  sun  in  silence  rests. — 
"  The  sun  to  me  is  dark, 
And  silent  as  the  moon, 
When  she  deserts  the  night, 
Hid  in  her  vacant  interlunar  cave." 

Milton,  Samson  Agonistes. 
The  same  metaphor  will  recur,  Canto  v.,  verse  29  : 
"  Into  a  place  I  came 
Where  light  was  silent  all." 
•  When  the  poiver  oj  Julius. — 

"  Nacqui  sub  Julio,  ancorchd  fosse  tardi." 
This  is  explained  by  the  commentators  :  "  Although  it 
were  rather  late  with  respect  to  my  birth,  before  Julius 
Caesar  assumed  the  supreme  authority,  and  made  himself 
perpetual  dict.itor."  Virgil  indeed  was  born  twenty-five 
years  before  that  event. 


THE    VISION. 


68—98. 


Of  fabled  deities  and  false,     A  bard 
Was  1,  and  made  Anchises'  upright  son 
The  subject  of  my  song,  who  came  from  Troy, 
When  the  flames  prey'd  on  Ilium's  haughty  towers.* 
But  thou,  say  wherefore  to  such  perils  past 
Return 'st  thou?  wherefore  not  this  pleasant  mount 
Ascendest,  cause  and  source  of  all  delight?" 
•'And  art  thou  then  that  Virgil,  that  well-spring. 
From  which  such  copious  floods  of  eloquence 
Have  issued?"  I  with  front  abash'd  replied. 
"  Glory  and  light  of  all  the  tuneful  train  I 
May  it  avail  me,  that  I  long  with  zeal 
Have  sought  thy  yolume,  and  with  love  immense 
Have  conn'd  it  o'er.     My  master  thou,  and  guide !' 
Thou  he  from  whom  alone  I  have  derived 
That  style,  which  for  its  beauty  into  fame 
Exalts  me.     See  the  beast,  from  whom  I  fled. 
Oh,  save  me  from  her,  thou  illustrious  saget 
For  every  vein  and  pulse  throughout  my  frame 
She  hath  made  tremble."     He,  soon  as  he  saw 
That  I  was  weeping,  answer'd,  "  Thou  must  needs 
Another  way  pursue,  if  thou  wouldst  'scape 
From  out  that  savage  wilderness.     This  beast, 
At  whom  thou  criest,  her  way  will  suffer  none 
To  pass,  and  no  less  hindrance  makes  than  death : 
So  bad  and  so  accursed  in  her  kind. 
That  never  sated  is  her  rja^yenous  will, 
Still  after  food^-  more  craving  than  before. 
To  many  an  animal  in  wedlock  vile 
She  fastens,  and  shall  yet  to  many  more. 
Until  that  greyhound*  come,  who  shall  destroy 


•  Iliunis  haughty  towers. — 

"  Ceciditque  superbum 
Ilium."  Virgil,  /Eneid,  iii.  3. 

•  My  master  thou,  and  guide  1 — 

"  Tu  se'  lo  mio  maestro,  e'  1  mio  autore, 
Tu  se'  solo  colui." 
Thou  art  my  father,  thou  my  author,  thou." 

Milton,  Parodist  Lost,  ii.  864. 


•  Still  after  food. — So  Frezz-: 

"  La  voglia  sempre  ha  fame,  e  mai  non  s'empie, 
Ed  al  piu  pasto  pii^  riman  digiuna." 

//  Quadriregio,  lib.  ii.,  cap.  xL 
Venturi  observes  that  the  verse  in  the  original  is  bor 
rowed  by  Berni. 

*  That  greyhound. — This  passage  has  been  coininonly 
understood  as  a  eulogium  on  the  liberal  spirit  of  hi>« 
Veronese  patron,  Can  Grande  della  Scala. 


A  4. 


He  soon  as  he  saw 
That  I  was  weeping,  answer'd. 


Canto  I.,  lines  iT,  88. 


99 — 122. 


HELL. — CANTO   I. 


Her  with  sharp  pain.     He  will  not  life  support 

By  earth  nor  its  base  metals,  but  by  love, 

Wisdom,  and  virtue;  and  his  land  shall  be 

The  land  'twixt  either  Feltro.i     In  his  might 

Shall  safety  to  Italia's  plains^  arise. 

For  whose  fair  realm,  Camilla,  virgin  pure, 

Nisus,  Euryalus,  and  Turnus  fell. 

He,  with  incessant  chase,  through  every  town 

Shall  worry,  until  he  to  hell  at  length 

Restore  her,  thence  by  envy  first  let  loose. 

I,  for  thy  profit  pondering,  now  devise 

That  thou  mayst  follow  me;  and  I,  thy  guide, 

Will  lead  thee  hence  through  an  eternal  space,     . 

Where  thou  shalt  hear  despairing  shrieks,  and  see 

Spirits  of  old  tormented,  who  invoke 

A  second  death  ;^  and  those  next  view,  who  dwell 

Content  in  fire,*  for  that  they  hope  to  come. 

Whene'er  the  time  may  be,  among  the  blest, 

Into  whose  regions  if  thou  then  desire 

To  ascend,  a  spirit  worthier^  than  I 

Must  lead  thee,  in  whose  charge,  when  I  depart, 

Thou  shalt  be  left:  for  that  Almighty  King, 

Who  reigns  above,  a  rebel  to  his  law 

Adjudges  me ;  and  therefore  hath  decreed 


'  'Twixt  eiihtr  Feltro. — Verona,  the  country  of  Can- 
della  Scala,  is  situated  between  Feltto,  a  city  in  the  Marca 
Trivigiana,  and  Monte  Feltro,  a  city  in  the  territory  of 
Urbino.  But  Dante  perhaps  does  not  merely  point  out 
the  place  of  Can  Grande's  nativity,  for  he  may  allude 
further  to  a  prophecy,  ascribed  to  Michael  Scot,  which 
imported  that  the  "  Dog  of  Verona  would  be  lord  of  Padua 
and  of  all  the  Marca  Trivigiana."  It  was  fulfilled  in  the 
year  1329,  a  little  before  Can  Grande's  death.  See  G. 
Villani  "Hist.,"  hb.  x.,  cap.  cv.  and  cxli.,  and  some  lively 
criticism  by  Gasparo  Gozzi,  entitled  "Giudizi'o  degli  Anti- 
chi  Poeti,"  &c.,  printed  at  the  end  of  the  Zatta  edition  of 
"Dante,"  torn.  iv.,partii.,  p.  15.  The  prophecy,  it  is  likely, 
was  a  forgery  ;  for  Michael  died  before  1300,  when  Can 
Grande  was  only  nine  years  old.  See  "Hell,"  xx.  115,  and 
"Paradise,"  xvii.  75.  Troya  has  given  anew  interpreta- 
tion to  Dante's  prediction,  which  lie  applies  to  Uguccione 
del  la  Faggiola,  whose  country  also  was  situated  between 
two  Feltros.  See  the  "  Veltro  Allegorico  di  Dante,"  p. 
no.  But  after  all  the  pains  he  has  taken,  this  very  able 
writer  fails  to  make  it  clear  that  Uguccione,  though  he 


acted  a  prominent  part  as  a  Ghibelline  leader,  is  intended 
here  of  in  "  Purgatory,"  c.  xxxiii.  38.  The  main  proofs 
rest  on  an  ambiguous  report  mentioned  by  Boccaccio  of 
the  "  Inferno''  being  dedicated  to  him,  and  on  a  sus- 
picious letter  attributed  to  a  certain  friar  Ilario,  in  which 
the  friar  describes  Dante  addressing  him  as  a  stranger, 
and  desiring  him  to  convey  that  portion  of  the  poem  to 
Uguccione.  There  is  no  direct  allusion  to  him  throughout 
the  "  Divina  Commedia,"  as  there  is  to  the  other  chief 
public  protectors  of  our  poet  during  his  e.xile. 

»  Italia's  plains.—"-  Umile  Italia,"  from  Virgil 
"Mntid"  lib.  iii.  522. 

"  Humilemque  videmus 
Italiam." 

•  A  second  death. — "  And  in  those  days  shall  men 
seek  death,  and  shall  not  find  it ;  and  shall  desire  to  die, 
and  death  shall  flee  from  them,"  Rev.  ix.  6. 

*  Content  in  fire. — The  spirits  in  Purgatory. 

'  A  spirit  worthier. — Beatrice,  who  conducts  the  poet 
through  Paradise. 


THE   VISION.  ia3-i3x 

That,  to  his  city,  none  through  me  should  come. 
He  in  all  parts  hath  sway ;  there  rules,  there  holds 
His  citadel  and  throne.     Oh,  happy  those, 
Whom  there  he  chooses  I"     I  to  him  in  few: 
"  Bard !  by  that  God,  whom  thou  didst  not  adore, 
I  do  beseech  thee  (that  this  ill  and  worse 
I  may  escape)  to  lead  me  where  thou  saidst. 
That  I  Saint  Peter's  gate^  may  view,  and  those 
Who,  as  thou  tell'st,  are  in  such  dismal  plight." 
Onward  he  moved,  I  close  his  steps  pursued. 


•  Saint  Peter's  gate, — The  gate  of  Purgatory,   which  the  poet  feigns  to  be  guarded  by  an  an^el   placed  on  that 
station  by  St.  Peter. 


p.  6. 


Onward  he  moved,  I  close  his  steps  pursued. 

Canto  I.,  liiu  132. 


>r 


^ 


/.  7- 


Now  was  the  day  departing. 

Canlo  II.,  lint  I. 


CANTO    II. 


ARGUMENT. 

After  the  invocation,  vrhtch  posts  are  used  to  prefix  to  their  works,  he  shows  that,  on  a  consideration  of  his  own 
strength,  he  doubted  whether  it  sufficed  for  the  journey  proposed  to  him,  but  that,  being  comforted  by  Virgil, 
he  at  last  took  courage,  and  followed  him  as  his  guide  and  master. 


XT  OW  was  the  day^  departing,  and  th^  air, 

■^        Embrown'd  with  shadows,  from  their  toils  released 

All  animals  on  earth ;"  and  I  alone 

Prepared  myself  the  conflict  to  sustain, 

Both  of  sad  pity,  and  that  perilous  road, 

Which  my  unerring  memory  shall  retrace. 

0  Muses  !  Oh,  high  genius !  now  vouchsafe 
Your  aid.     Oh,  mind  !^  that  all  I  saw  hast  kept 
Safe  in  a  written  record,  here  thy  worth 

And  eminent  endowments  come  to  proof. 

1  thus  began  :  "  Bard  !  thou  who  art  my  guide, 
Consider  well,  if  virtue  be  in  me 

Sufficient,  ere  to  this  high  enterprise 

Thou  trust  me.     Thou  hast  told  that  Silvius'  sire," 

Yet  clothed  in  corruptible  flesh,  among 

The  immortal  tribes  had  entrance,  and  was  there 

Sensibly  present.     Yet  if  heaven's  great  Lord, 

Almighty  foe  to  ill,  such  favour  show'd 

In  contemplation  of  the  high  effect, 

Both  what  and  who  from  him  should  issue  forth, 


•  Now  was  the  day. — A  compendium  of  Virgil's  de- 
scription, "yEneid,"  lib.  iv.  522.  Compare  ApoUonius 
Rhodius,  lib.  iii.  744,  and  lib.  iv.  1058. 

"The  day  gan  failin  ;  and  the  darke  night. 
That  revith  bestis  from  their  businesse, 
Berafte  me  my  booke,"  &c. 

Chaucer,  The  Assemble  of  Foules. 


*  Oh,  mind. — 

"  Oh,  thought !  that  write  all  that  I  met, 
And  in  tht  tresorie  it  set 
Of  my  braine,  now  shall  men  see 
If  any  virtue  in  thee  be." 

Chaucer,  Temple  of  Fame,  b.  ii,  v.  i& 

•  Sflvius'  sire. — iEneas. 


8 


THE   VISION. 


«i— sa- 


lt seems  in  reason's  judgment  well  deserved; 

Sith  he  of  Rome  and  of  Rome's  empire  wide, 

In  heaven's  empyreal  height  was  chosen  sire: 

Both  which,  if  truth  be  spoken,  were  ordain'd 

And  stablish'd  for  the  holy  place,  where  sits 

Who  to  great  Peter's  sacred  chair  succeeds. 

He  from  this  journey,  in  thy  song  renown'd, 

Learn 'd  things,  that  to  his  victory  gave  rise 

And  to  the  Papal  robe.     In  after-times 

The  chosen  vessel'  also  travell'd  there,^ 

To  bring  us  back  assurance  in  that  faith 

Which  is  the  entrance  to  salvation's  way. 

But  I,  why  should  I  there  presume?  or  who 

Permits  it?  not  .^^neas.  I,  nor  Paul. 

Myself  I  deem  not  worthy,  and  none  else 

Will  deem  me.     I,  if  on  this  voyage  then 

I  venture,  fear  it  will  in  folly  end. 

Thou,  who  art  wise,  better  my  meaning  know'st, 

Than  I  can  speak."    As  one,  who  unresolves 

What  he  hath  late  resolved,  and  with  new  thoughts 

Changes  his  purpose,  from  his  first  intent 

Removed ;  e'en  such  was  I  on  that  dun  coast, 

Wasting  in  thought  my  enterprise,  at  first 

So  eagerly  embraced.     "  If  right  thy  words 

I  scan,"  replied  that  shade  magnanimous, 

"Thy  soul  is  by  vile  fear  assail'd,^  which  oft 

So  overcasts  a  man,  that  he  recoils 

From  noblest  resolution,  like  a  beast 

At  some  false  semblance  in  the  twilight  gloom. 

That  from  this  terror  thou  mayst  free  thyself, 

I  will  instruct  thee  why  I  came,  and  what 

I  heard  in  that  same  instant,  when  for  thee 

Grief  touch 'd  me  first.     I  was  among  the  tribe. 


'  The  chosen  vessel. — St  Paul.  Acts  ix.  1 5  :  "  But 
the  Lord  said  unto  him,  Go  thy  way  :  for  he  is  a  chosen 
vessel  unto  me." 

'  There. — This  refers  to  "the  immortal  tribes,"  v.  16; 
St  Paul  having  been  caught  up  to  heaven — 2  Cor.  xii.  2. 


•  Thy  soul  is  by  vile  fear  assaiPd. — 

"  L'anima  tua  e  da  viltate  ofTesa.'' 

So  in  Berni,  "Orl.  Inn.,"  lib.  iii.,  c;  i.,  sL  53  :  "Se  I'alma 
avete  ofTcsa  da  viltate." 


/9- 


I,  who  now  bid  thee  on  this  errand  forth, 
Am  Beatrice. 

Canto  J/.,  lints  70,  71. 


54— 8»- 


HELL. — CANTO   II. 


Who  rest  suspended,^  when  a  dame,  so  blest 

And  lovely  I  besought  her  to  command, 

Call'd  me ;  her  eyes  were  brighter  than  the  star 

Of  day;  and  she,  with  gentle  voice  and  soft, 

Angelically  tuned,  her  speech  address'd : 

'  Oh,  courteous  shade  of  Mantua  I  thou  whose  fame 

Yet  lives,  and  shall  live  long  as  Nature  lasts  1* 

A  friend,  not  of  my  fortune  but  myself,^ 

On  the  wide  desert  in  his  road  has  met 

Hindrance  so  great,  that  he  through  fear  has  turn'd. 

Now  much  I  dread  lest  he  past  help  have  stray 'd, 

And  I  be  risen  too  late  for  his  relief, 

From  what  in  heaven  of  him  I  heard.     Speed  now. 

And  by  thy  eloquent  persuasive  tongue, 

And  by  all  means  for  his  deliverance  meet, 

Assist  him.     So  to  me  will  comfort  spring. 

I,  who  now  bid  thee  on  this  errand  forth, 

Am  Beatrice;*  from  a  place  I  come 

Re-visited  with  joy.     Love  brought  me  thence. 

Who  prompts  my  speech.    When  in  my  Master's  sight 

I  stand,  thy  praise  to  him  I  oft  will  tell.' 

"  She  then  was  silent,  and  I  thus  began: 
*  O  Lady  I  by  whose  influence  alone 
Mankind  excels  whatever  is  contain'd^ 
Within  that  heaven  which  hath  the  smallest  orb. 
So  thy  command  delights  me,  that  to  obey, 
If  it  were  done  already,  would  seem  late. 
No  need  hast  thou  further  to  speak  thy  will : 
Yet  tell  the  reason,  why  thou  art  not  loth 


>  lyAo  rest  suspended.— 'V\it  spirits  in  Limbo,  neither 
admitted  to  a  state  of  glory  nor  doomed  to  punish- 
ment. 

'  As  Nature  /as/s.—"  Quanto  1  moto  lontana."  "  Mon- 
do,"  instead  of  *•  moto,"  which  Lombardi  claims  as  a 
reading  peculiar  to  the  Nidobeatina  edition  and  some 
MSS.,  is  also  in  Landino's  edition  of  1484.  Of  this 
Monti  was  not  aware.  See  his  "  Proposta,"  under  the 
word  "  Lontanare." 

•  A  friend,  not  of  my  fortune  but  myself.—'^  Se  non 
fortuna;  sed  hominibus  solere  esse  amicum."  Cornelii 
Nepal  is  Atiici  Vita,  c  ix. 


"  Caetera  fortunae,  non  mea  turba,  fuit." 

Ovid,  Tristia,  lib.  i.,  el.  5,  34. 
"  My  fortune  and  my  seeming  destiny 
He  made  the  bond,  and  broke  it  not  with  me." 
Coleridgis  Death  of  XVallenstein,  Act  i.,  bc.  7. 

*  Beatrice. — The  daughter  of  Folco  Portinari,  who  is 
here  invested  with  the  character  of  celestial  wisdom  or 
theology.     See  the  "  Life  of  Dante"  prefi.\ed. 

'  Whatever  is  contain  d. — Every  other  thing  comprised 
within  the  lunar  heaven,  which,  being  the  lowest  of  all, 
has  the  smallest  circle. 


10 


THE   VISION. 


83—116 


To  leave  that  ample  space,  where  to  return 
Thou  burnest,  for  this  centre  here  beneath.' 

"  She  then :  '  Since  thou  so  deeply  vvouldst  inquire, 
I  will  instruct  thee  briefly  why  no  dread 
Hinders  my  entrance  here.     Those  things  alone 
Are  to  be  fear'd  whence  evil  may  proceed; 
None  else,  for  none  are  terrible  beside. 
I  am  so  framed  by  God,  thanks  to  his  grace! 
That  any  sufferance  of  your  misery 
Touches  me  not,  nor  flame  of  that  fierce  fire 
Assails  me.     In  high  heaven  a  blessed  dame^ 
Resides,  who  mourns  with  such  effectual  grief 
That  hindrance,  which  I  send  thee  to  remove, 
That  God's  stern  judgment  to  her  will  inclines. 
To  Lucia^  calling,  her  she  thus  bespake : 
"  Now  doth  thy  faithful  servant  need  thy  aid, 
And  I  commend  him  to  thee."     At  her  word 
Sped  Lucia,  of  all  cruelty  the  foe, 
And  coming  to  the  place,  where  I  abode 
Seated  with  Rachel,  her  of  ancient  days, 
She  thus  address'd  me :  "  Thou  true  praise  of  God  1 
Beatrice!  why  is  not  thy  succour  lent 
To  him,  who  so  much  loved  thee,  as  to  leave 
For  thy  sake  all  the  multitude  admires? 
Dost  thou  not  hear  how  pitiful  his  wail. 
Nor  mark  the  death,  which  in  the  torrent  flood, 
Swollen  mightier  than  a  sea,  him  struggling  holds?" 
Ne'er  among  men  did  any  with  such  speed 
Haste  to  their  profit,  flee  from  their  annoy. 
As,  when  these  words  were  spoken,  I  came  here, 
Down  from  my  blessed  seat,  trusting  the  force 
Of  thy  pure  eloquence,  which  thee,  and  all 
Who  well  have  mark'd  it,  into  honour  brings.' 

"When  she  had  ended,  her  bright  beaming  eyes 


'  A  blessed  dam*. — ^The  Divine  Mercy. 

•  Lucia. — The  enlightening  Grace  of  Heaven,  as  it  is 
commonly  explained.  Uut  Lombardi  has  well  observed, 
that  as  our  poet  places  her  in  the  Paradise,  c.  xxxii., 


amongst  the  souls  of  the  blessed,  so  it  is  probable  that 
she,  like  Beatrice,  had  a  real  existence ;  and  he  accord- 
ingly supposes  her  to  have  been  St.  Lucia  the  martyr,, 
although  she  is  here  representative  of  an  abstract  idea. 


117  —  ^41- 


HELL. CANTO   11. 


Xt 


Tearful  she  turn'd  aside ;  whereat  I  felt 
Redoubled  zeal  to  serve  thee.     As  she  will'd, 
Thus  am  I  come :  I  saved  thee  from  the  beast, 
Who  thy  near  way  across  the  goodly  mount 
Prevented.     What  is  this  comes  o'er  thee  then? 
Why,  why  dost  thou  hang  back  ?  why  in  thy  breast 
Harbour  vile  fear?  why  hast  not  courage  there, 
And  noble  daring;  since  three  maids,*  so  blest, 
Thy  safety  plan,  e'en  in  the  court  of  heaven ; 
And  so  much  certain  good  my  words  forebode?" 

As  florets,^  by  the  frosty  air  of  night 
Bent  down  and  closed,  when  day  has  blanch'd  their  leaves, 
Rise  all  unfolded  on  their  spiry  stems ; 
So  was  my  fainting  vigour  new  restored, 
And  to  my  heart  such  kindly  courage  ran, 
That  I  as  one  undaunted  soon  replied : 
"Oh,  full  of  pity  she,  who  undertook 
My  succour!  and  thou  kind,  who  didst  perform 
So  soon  her  true  behest !     With  such  desire 
Thou  hast  disposed  me  to  renew  my  voyage, 
That  my  first  purpose  fully  is  resumed. 
Lead  on :  one  only  will  is  in  us  both. 
Thou  art  my  guide,  my  master  thou,  and  lord." 

So  spake  I ;  and  when  he  had  onward  moved, 
I  enter'd  on  the  deep  and  woody  way. 


'  Three  maids. — The  Divine  Mercy,   Lucia,  and  Uea- 
Irice. 
*  As  florets. — 

"  Come  fioretto  dal  notturno  gelo 
Chinato  e  chiuso.  poi  che  il  sol  Timbianca, 
S'apre  e  si  leva  dritto  sopra  il  stele." 

Boccactrio,  II  Filostrato,  p.  iii.,  St.  13. 

"  But  right  as  floure^i  through  the  cold  of  night 
Iclosed,  stoupen  in  her  stalkes  lowe, 
Redressen  hem  agen  the  sunne  bright. 
And  spreden  iu  her  kinde  course  by  rowe,"  &c. 

Ckauisr,  Troilus  and  Creseide,  b.  iL 


It  is  from  Hoccaccio  rather  than  Dante  that  Chaucer 
has  taken  this  simile,  which  he  applies  to  Tfoilus  on  the 
same  occasion  as  Boccaccio  has  done.  He  appears 
indeed  to  have  imitated  or  rather  paraphrased  the  "  Filos- 
trato''  in  his  "Troilus  and  Creseide;"  for  it  is  not  yet 
known  who  that  LoUius  is,  from  whom  he  professes  to 
take  the  poem,  and  who  is  again  mentioned  in  the  "  House 
of  Fame,"  b.  iii.  The  simile  in  the  text  has  been  imitated 
by  many  others ;  among  whom  see  Berni,  "  Orl.  Inn.," 
lib.  i.,  c.  xii.,  St.  86 ;  Marino,  '-Aaone,"  c.  xvii.,  st.  63,  and 
son.  "  Donna  vestita  <li  nero ; "  and  Spenser's  "  Faery 
Queen,"  b.  iv.,  c  xii.,  si.  34,  and  b.  vi.,  c.  ii.,  st  35  ;  and 
Boccaccio  again  in  the  "  Teseide,"  lib.  ix.,  sL  28. 


CANTO     III. 


ARGUMENT. 

Dante,  foDowing  Virgil,  comes  to  the  gate  of  Hell ;  where,  after  having  read  the  dreadful  words  that  are  written 
thereon,  they  both  enter.  Here,  as  he  understands  from  Virgil,  those  were  punished  who  had  passed  their  time 
(for  living  it  could  not  be  called)  in  a  state  of  apathy  and  indifference  both  to  good  and  evil.  Then  pursuing 
their  way,  they  arrive  at  the  river  Acheron  ;  and  there  find  the  old  ferryman  Charon,  who  takes  the  spirits  over 
to  the  opposite  shore ;  which  as  soon  as  Dante  reaches,  he  is  seized  with  terror,  and  falls  into  a  trance. 

" 'T^HROUGH  me  you  pass  into  the  city  of  woe: 
Through  me  you  pass  into  eternal  pain: 
Through  me  among  the  people  lost  for  aye. 
Jusjice  the  founder  of  my  fabric  moved : 
To  rear  me  was  the  task  of  power  divine, 
Supremest  wisdom,  and  primeval  love.' 
Before  me  things  create  were  none,  save  things 
Eternal,  and  eternal  I  endure. 
All  hope  abandon,^  ye  who  enter  here." 

Such  characters,  in  colour  dim,  I  mark'd 
Over  a  portal's  lofty  arch  inscribed. 
Whereat  I  thus :  "  Master,  these  words  import 
Hard  meaning."     He  as  one  prepared  replied : 
"Here  thou  must  all  distrust  behind  thee  leave; 
Here  be  vile  fear  extinguish'd.     We  are  come 
Where  I  have  told  thee  we  shall  see  the  souls 
To  misery  doom'd,  who  intellectual  good 
Have  lost."    And  when  his  hand''  he  had  stretch'd  forth 
To  mine,  with  pleasant  looks,  whence  I  was  cheer'd, 
Into  that  secret  place  he  led  me  on. 

Here  sighs,*  with  lamentations  and  loud  moans, 


•  Power  divine, 

Siifiiemest  wisdom,  and  primeval  love. — 
The  three  Persons  of  the  Blessed  Trinity. 
*■  All  hope  abandon. — 

"  Lasciate  ogni  speranza  voi  ch'  entrata" 
So  Berni,  "  Orl.  Inn.,"  lib.  i.,  c.  viii.,  st.  53  : 

'*  Lascia  pur  della  vita  ogni  speranza." 


•  And  wJun  his, hand. — 

"  With  that  my  hand  in  his  he  caught  anone  j 
On  wliich  I  comfort  caught,  and  went  in  fast.* 

Chaucer,  The  Assemble  0/  Foules. 
'■  Here  sighs. — "  Post  hxc  omnia  ad  loca  tartarea,  et 
aa  OS  inferiialis  baratri  deductus  sum,  qui  simile  videbatur 
puteo,  loca  vero  eadem  horridis  tenebris,  fsetoribus  exha 


ii — ^49. 


HELL.- 


;anto  III. 


13 


Resounded  through  the  air  pierced  by  no  star, 

That  e'en  I  wept  at  entering.     Various  tongues, 

Horrible  languages,  outcries  of  woe. 

Accents  of  anger,  voices  deep  and  hoarse. 

With  hands  together  smote  that  swell 'd  the  sounds, 

Made  up  a  tumult,  that  for  ever  whirls 

Round  through  that  air  with  solid  darkness  stain'd, 

Like  to  the  sand'  that  in  the  whirlwind  flies. 

I  then,  with  error^  yet  encompassed,  cried, 

"  Oh,  master  I  what  is  this  I  hear  ?  what  race 

Are  these,  who  seem  so  overcome  with  woe  ? " 

He  thus  to  me :  "  This  miserable  fate 
Suffer  the  wretched  souls  of  those  who  lived 
Without  or  praise  or  blame,  with  that  ill  band- 
Of  angels  mix'd,  who  nor  rebellious  proved. 
Nor  yet  were  true  to  God,  but  for  themselves 
Were  only.     From  his  bounds  Heaven  drove  them  forth, 
Not  to  impair  his  lustre ;  nor  the  depth 
Of  Hell  receives  them,  lest  the  accursed  tribe' 
Should  glory  thence  with  exultation  vain." 

I  then  :  "  Master  I  what  doth  aggrieve  them  thus. 
That  they  lament  so  loud  ?  "     He  straight  replied : 
"That  will  I  tell  thee  briefly.     These  of  death 
No  hope  may  entertain  ;  and  their  blind  life 
So  meanly  passes,  that  all  other  lots 
They  envy.     Fame*  of  them  the  world  hath  none, 
Nor  suffers;  mercy  and  justice  scorn  them  both 
Speak  not  of  them,  but  look,  and  pass  them  by." 


lantibus,  stridoribus  quoque  et  nimiis  plena  erant  ejulati- 
bus,  juxta  qucm  infernum  vermis  erat  infinite  magnitu- 
dinis,  ligatus  maxima  catena."    Alberici  Visio,  %  9. 
'  Like  to  the  sand. — 

"  Unnumber'd  as  the  sands 
Of  Barca  or  Cyrene's  torrid  soil, 
Levied  to  side  with  warring  winds,  and  poise 
Their  lighter  wings." 

Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  1).  ii.  903. 
'  With  error. — Instead  of  "error,"  Vellutello's  edition 
of  1544  has  "orror,"  a  reading  remarked  also  by  Landino, 
in  his  notes.  So  much  mistaken  is  the  collator  of  the 
Monte  Casino  MS.  in  calling  it  "lezione  da  niuno  no- 
tata,"  "  a  reading  which  no  one  has  observed." 
•  Ltst  the  accursed  tribe. — Lest  the  rebellious   angels 


should  exult  at  seeing  those  who  were  neutial,  and  there- 
fore less  guilty,  condemned  to  the  same  punishment  with 
themselves.  Rossetti,  in  a  long  note  on  this  passage, 
has  ably  exposed  the  plausible  interpretation  of  Monti, 
who  would  have  "alcuna  gloria"  mean  "no  glory,"  and 
thus  make  Virgil  say  "tliat  the  evil  ones  would  derive  no 
honour  from  the  society  of  the  neutral."  A  similar  mis- 
take in  the  same  word  is  made  elsewhere  by  Lombardi. 
See  my  note  on  c.  xii.,  v.  9. 
*  Fame. — 

•'  Cancell'd  from  heaven  and  sacred  memory, 
Nameless  in  dark  oblivion  let  them  dwell." 

Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  b.  vi.  38a 
"Therefore  eternal  silence  be  their  doom." 

Ibid,  385. 


i4 


THE   VISION. 


So-77. 


And  I,  who  straightway  look'd,  beheld  a  flag,* 
Which  whirling  ran  around  so  rapidly, 
That  it  no  pause  obtain'd  :  and  following  came 
Such  a  long  train  of  spirits,  I  should  ne'er 
Have  thought  that  death  so  many  had  despoil'd. 

When  some  of  these  I  recognised,  I  saw 
And  knew  the  shade  of  him,  who  to  base  fear 
Yielding,  abjured  his  high  estate.®     Forthwith 
I  understood,  for  certain,  this  the  tribe 
Of  those  ill  spirits  both  to  God  displeasing 
And  to  his  foes.     These  wretches,  who  ne'er  lived, 
Went  on  in  nakedness,  and  sorely  stung 
By  wasps  and  hornets,  which  bedew'd  their  cheeks 
With  blood,  that,  mix'd  with  tears,  dropp'd  to  their  feet, 
And  by  disgustful  worms  was  gather'd  there. 

Then  looking  further  onwards,  I  beheld 
A  throng  upon  the  shore  of  a  great  stream : 
Whereat  I  thus  :  "  Sir  I  grant  me  now  to  know 
Whom  here  we  view,  and  whence  impell'd  they  seem 
So  eager  to  pass  o'er,  as  I  discern 
Through  the  blear  light?"*     He  thus  to  me  in  few: 
"This  shalt  thou  know,  soon  as  our  steps  arrive 
Beside  the  woful  tide  of  Acheron." 

Then  with  eyes  downward  cast,  and  fiU'd  with  shame, 
Fearing  my  words  offensive  to  his  ear, 
Till  we  had  reach'd  the  river,  I  from  speech 
Abstain'd.     And,  lo!  toward  us  in  a  bark 
Comes  on  an  old  man,*  hoary  white  with  eld, 


'    A  flag. —        "All  the  grisly  legions  that  troop 
Under  the  sooty  flag  of  Acheron." 

Milton,  Comtts. 
•  IVko  lo  base /ear 

Yielding,  abjured  his  high  estate. — 

This  is  commonly  understood  of  Celestine  V.,  who  ab- 
dicated the  Papal  power  in  1294.  Ve.nturi  mentions  a 
work  written  by  Innocenzio  Barcellini,  of  the  Celestine 
order,  and  printed  at  Milan  in  1701,  in  which  an  attempt 
is  made  to  put  a  different  interpretation  on  this  passage. 
Lombard!  would  apply  it  to  some  one  of  Dante's  fellow- 
citizens,  who,  refusing,  through  avarice  or  want  of  spirit, 
to  support  the  paity  of  the  Bianchi  at  Florence,  had  been 
the  main  occasion  of  the  miseries  that  befell  them.  But 
the  testimony  of  Faiio  degli  Uberti,  who  lived  so  near  the 


time  of  our  author,  seems  almost  decisive  on  this  point. 
He  expressly  speaks  of  the  Pope  Celestine  as  being  in  hell. 
See  the  "  Dittamondo,"  l.lv.,  cap.  xxi.  The  usual  interpre- 
tation is  further  confirmed  in  a  passage  in  canto  xxvii., 
V.  loi.  Petrarch,  while  he  passes  a  high  encomium  on  Ce- 
lestine for  his  abdication  of  the  Papal  power,  gives  us  to 
understand  that  there  were  others  who  thought  it  a  dis- 
graceful act.    See  the  "De  Vita  SoIit.,"b.  ii.,  sect.  iii.,c.  18. 

'  Through  the  blear  light. — "  Lo  fioco  lume."  So  Fili- 
caja,  canz.  vi.,  st.  12  :  "  Qual  fioco  lume." 

*  An  old  man. — 

"  Portitor  has  horrendus  aquas  et  flumina  servat 
Terribili  squalore  Charon,  cui  plurima  nicnto 
Canities  inculta  jacet ;  stant  lumina  fiammi." 

Virgil,  /Eiieid,  lib.  vi.  298. 


A  M. 


And,  lo  !  toward  us  in  a  bark 
Comes  on  an  old  man,  hoary  white  with  eld, 
Crying,  "  Woe  to  you,  wicked  spirits  ! " 

Canto  III.,  Knes  76-78. 


78—104.  HELL. CANTO   III.  I5' 

Crying,  "  Woe  to  you,  wicked  spirits  I  hope  not 
Ever  to  see  the  sky  again.     I  come 
To  take  you  to  the  other  shore  across, 
Into  eternal  darkness,  there  to  dwell 
In  fierce  heat  and  in  ice.^    And  thou,  who  there 
Standest,  live  spirit  I  get  thee  hence,  and  leave 
These  who  are  dead."     But  soon  as  he  beheld 
♦     I  left  them  not,  "  By  other  way,"  said  he, 
"  By  other  haven  shalt  thou  come  to  shore, 
Not  by  this  passage ;   thee  a  nimbler  boat^ 
Must  carry."     Then  to  him  thus  spake  my  guide: 
"  Charon  I  thyself  torment  not :   so  'tis  will'd, 
Where  will  and  power  are  one :   ask  thou  no  more." 

Straightway  in  silence  fell  the  shaggy  cheeks 
Of  him,  the  boatman  o'er  the  livid  lake,^ 
Around  whose  eyes  glared  wheeling  flames.     Meanwhile 
Those  spirits,  faint  and  naked,  colour  changed, 
And  gnash'd  their  teeth,  soon  as  the  cruel  words 
They  heard.     God  and  their  parents  they  blasphemed, 
The  human  kind,  the  place,  the  time,  and  seed. 
That  did  engender  them  and  give  them  birth. 

Then  all  together  sorely  wailing  drew 
To  the  curst  strand,  that  every  man  must  pass 
Who  fears  not  God.     Charon,  demoniac  form, 
With  eyes  of  burning  coal,*  collects  them  all. 
Beckoning,  and  each,  that  lingers,  with  his  oar 
Strikes.     As  fall  off  the  light  autumnal  leaves,* 


'  In  fierce  heat  and  in  ice. — 

"  The  bitter  change 
Of  fierce  extremes,  extremes  by  change  more  fierce^ 
From  beds  of  raging  fire  to  starve  in  ice 
Their  soft  ethereal  warmth." 

Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  b.  ii.  601. 


"  Totius  ut  lacAs  putidaeque  paludiJ. 
Lividissima,  maximeque  est  profunda  vorago." 

Catulltts,  xviii.  lo. 
*  With  eyes  of  burning  coal. — 

"  His  looks  were  dreadful,  and  his  fiery  eyes, 
Like  two  great  beacons,  glared  briglit  and  wide." 


"  The  delighted  spirit  j  Spenser,  Fairy  Queen,  b.  vi.,  c.  vii.,  st.  42. 


To  bathe  in  fiery  floods,  or  to  reside 
In  thrilling  regions  of  thick-ribbed  ice." 

Shakespeare,  Measure  for  Measure,  Act  iiL,  sc  L 
bee  note  to  c.  xxxii.  23. 

'  A    nimbler   boat. — He  perhaps  alludes  to  the  bark 
•'swift  and  light,"  in  which  the  Angel  conducts  the  spirits 
10  Purgatory.     See  "  Purgatory,"  c.  ii.  40. 
'  7)4^ //V/V/ /«/{:« —"Vadalivida." 

Virgil,  /Eneid,  lib.  vi.  32a 


•  As  fall  off  the  light  autumnal  leaves. — 
"Quam  multa  in  silvis  autumni  frigore  primo 
Lapsa  cadunt  folia." 

Virgil,  Mneid,  lib.  vi.  309. 

"  Thick  as  autumnal  leaves,  that  strew  the  brooks 
In  Vallonibrosa,  where  the  Etrurian  shades 
High  over-arch'd  embower." 

Mtlton,  Paradise  Lost,  b.  i.  304. 

Compare  Apollonius  Rhodius,  lib.  tv.,  p.  214. 


1 6  THE   VISION.  ioi-136 

One  still  another  following,  till  the  bough 
Strews  all  its  honours  on  the  earth  beneath; 
E'en  in  like  manner  Adam's  evil  brood 
Cast  themselves,  one  by  one,  down  from  the  shore, 
Each  at  a  beck,  as  falcon  at  his  call.^ 

Thus  go  they  over  through  the  umber'd  wave; 
And  ever  they  on  the  opposing  bank 
Be  landed,  on  this  side  another  throng 
Still  gathers.     "  Son,"  thus  spake  the  courteous  guide, 
"Those  who  die  subject  to  the  wrath  of  God 
All  here  together  come  from  every  clime, 
And  to  o'erpass  the  river  are  not  loth : 
For  so  Heaven's  justice  goads  them  on,  that  fear 
Is  turned  into  desire.     Hence  ne'er  hath  past 
Good  spirit.     If  of  thee  Charon  complain. 
Now  mayst  thou  know  the  import  of  his  words." 

This  said,  the  gloomy  region  trembling  shook 
So  terribly,  that  yet  with  clammy  dews 
Fear  chills  my  brow.     The  sad  earth  gave  a  blast. 
That,  lightning,  shot  forth  a  vermilion  flame. 
Which  all  my  senses  conquer'd  quite,  and  I 
Down  dropp'd,  as  one  with  sudden  slumber  seized. 


'  A$  falcon  at  his  call. — This  is  Vellutello's  explanation,  and  seems  preferable  to  that  cominoaly  piven  :  "as  a  bird 
that  is  enticed  to  the  lage  by  the  coll  of  another." 


CANTO    IV. 


^  ARGUMENT. 

The  Poet,  being  roused  by  a  clap  of  thunder,  and  following  his  guide  onwards,  descends  into  Limbo,  which  is  the  first 
circle  of  Hell,  where  \.t  unds  the  souls  of  those  who,  although  they  have  lived  virtuously  and  't-ive  not  to  suffer  for 
great  sins,  nevertheless,  through  lack  of  baptism,  merit  not  the  bliss  of  Paradise.  Kence  he  is  led  on  by  Virgil  to 
descend  into  the  second  circle. 

"DROKE  the  deep  slumber  in  my  brain  a  crash 

Of  heavy  thunder,  that  I  shook  myself, 
As  one  by  main  force  roused.      Risen  upright, 
My  rested  eyes  I  moved  around,  and  search'd. 
With  fixed  ken,  to  know  what  place  it  was 
Wherein  I  stood.      For  certain,  on  the  brink 
I  found  me  of  the  lamentable  vale. 
The  dread  abyss,  that  joins  a  thundrous  sound* 
Of  plaints  innumerable.      Dark  and  deep. 
And  thick  with  clouds  o'erspread,  mine  eye  in  vain 
Explored  its  bottom,  nor  could  aught  discern. 

"  Now  let  us  to  the  blind  world  there  beneath 
Descend;"  the  bard  began,  all  pale  of  look: 
"  I  go  the  first,  and  thou  shalt  follow  next. 

Then  I,  his  alter'd  hue  perceiving,  thus: 
"How  may  I  speed,  if  thou  yieldest  to  dread, 
Who  still  art  wont  to  comfort  me  in  doubt?" 

He  then:  "The  anguish  of  that  race  below 
With  pity  stains  my  cheek,  which  thou  for  fear 
Mistakest.      Let  us  on.      Our  length  of  way 
Urges  to  haste."      Onward,  this  said,  he  moved; 
And  entering,  led  me  with  him,  on  the  bounds 
Of  the  first  circle  that  surrounds  the  abyss. 


'  j4  thundro'-is  sound. — Imitated,  as  Mr.  Thyer  has 
remarked,  by  Milton,  in  "Paradise  tost,"  book  viii. 
tine  242 : 


"  But  long,  ere  our  approaching,  heard  within 
Noise,  other  than  the  sound  of  dance  or  sonft 
Torment,  and  loud  lament,  and  furious  rage." 

D 


i3 


THE   VISION. 


24-52. 


Here,  as  mine  ear  could  note,  no  plaint  was  heard 
Except  of  sighs,  that  made  the  eternal  air 
Tremble,  not  caused  by  tortures,  but  from  grief 
Felt  by  those  multitudes,  many  and  vast, 
Of  men,  women,  and  infants.      Then  to  me 
The  gentle  guide:  'Tnquirest  thou  not  what  spirits 
Are  these  which  thou  beholdest?      Ere  thou  pass 
Farther,  I  would  thou  know,  that  these  of  sin 
Were  blameless;   and  if  aught  they  merited. 
It  profits  not,  since  baptism  was  not  theirs, 
The  portaP  to  thy  faith.      If  they  before 
The  Gospel  lived,  they  served  not  God  aright;' 
And  among  such  am  I.      For  these  defects, 
And  for  no  other  evil,  we  are  lost ; 
Only  so  far  afflicted,  that  we  live 
Desiring  without  hope."^      Sore  grief  assail'd 
My  heart  at  hearing  this,  for  well  I  knew 
Suspended  in  that  Limbo  many  a  soul 
Of  mighty  worth.      "  Oh,  tell  me,  sire  revered  I 
Tell  me,  my  master!"   I  began,  through  wish 
Of  full  assurance  in  that  holy  faith 
Which  vanquishes  all  error;    "say,  did  e'er 
Any,  or  through  his  own  or  other's  merit. 
Come  forth  from  thence,  who  afterward  was  blest?" 

Piercing  the  secret  purport^  of  my  speech. 
He  answer'd  :  "  I  was  new  to  that  estate, 
When  I  beheld  a  puissant  one*  arrive 
Amongst  us,  with  victorious  trophy  crown'd. 
He  forth^  the  shade  of  our  first  parent  drew. 


•  Porta/.—"  Porta  della  fede."  This  was  an  alteration 
made  in  the  text  by  the  Academicians  della  Crusca,  on 
the  authority,  as  it  would  appear,  of  only  two  MSS.- 
The  other  reading  is  "parte  della  fede,"  "part  of  the 
faith." 

'  Desiring  without  hope. — 

"  And  with  desire  to  languish  without  hope." 

Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  b.  x.  995. 

•  Secret  /«^<>r/.— Lombardi  well  observes  that  Dante 
seems  to  have  been  restrained  by  awe  and  reverence 
from  uttering  the  name  of  Christ  in  this  place  of  tor- 
ment ,  and  that  for  the  same  cause,  probably,  it  does  not 


occur  once  throughout  the  whole  of  this  first  part  of  the 
poer.i. 

*  A  puissant  one. — Oi:r  Saviour. 

•  He  forth.— T\\c  author  of  the  "  Quadriregio"  has 
introduced  a  sublime  description  into  his  imitation  of  this 
passage : 

"  Pose  le  rcni  la  dove  si  scrra ; 

Ma  Cristo  lui  e  '1  catarcion  d'  acciajo 
E  qucste  porte  allora  getto  a  terra. 

Quando  in  la  grotta  entro  '1  lucido  rnjo, 
Adamo  disse  :  Qucsto  e  lo  splcndore 
Che  mi  spiro  in  faccia  da  primajo. 

Venutu  se'  aspettato  Signore."        L.  ii.,  cap.  3, 


> 


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0 

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3 

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>, 

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c 

V 

0 

Q 

i3-84. 


HELL. — CANTO   IV. 


19 


Abel  his  child,  and  Noah  righteous  man, 
Of  Moses  lawgiver  for  faith  approved, 
Of  patriarch  Abraham,  and  David  king, 
Israel  with  his  sire  and  with  his  sons. 
Nor  without  Rachel  whom  so  hard  he  won, 
And  others  many  more,  whom  he  to  bliss 
Exalted.      Before  these,  be  thou  assured. 
No  spirit  of  human  kind  was  ever  saved." 

We,  while  he  spake,  ceased  not  our  onward  road, 
Still  passing  through  the  wood  ;  for  so  I  name 
Those  spirits  thick  beset.      We  were  not  far 
On  this  side  from  the  summit,  when  I  kenn'd 
A  flame,  that  o'er  the  darken'd  hemisphere 
Prevailing  shined.      Yet  we  a  little  space 
Were  distant,  not  so  far  but  I  in  part 
Discover'd  that  a  tribe  in  honour  high 
That  place  possess'd,      "  Oh  thou,  who  every  art 
And  science  valuest  I  who  are  these,  that  boast 
Such  honour,  separate  from  all  the  rest?" 

He  answer'd  :    "  The  renown  of  their  great  names, 
That  echoes  through  your  world  above,  acquires 
Favour  in  heaven,  which  holds  them  thus  advanced." 
Meantime  a  voice  I  heard  :  "  Honour  the  bard 
Sublime!^  his  shade  returns,  that  left  us  late!" 
No  sooner  ceased  the  sound,  than  I  behehi 
Four  mighty  spirits  toward  us  bend  their  steps, 
Of  semblance  neither  sorrowful  nor  glad.^ 

When  thus  my  master  kind  began  :  "  Mark  him, 
Who  in  his  right  hand  bears  that  falchion  keen, 
The  other  three  preceding,  as  their  lord. 
This  is  that  Homer,  of  all  bards  supreme: 
Flaccus  the  next,  in  satire's  vein  excelling; 


"  Satan  hung  writhing  round  the  bolt ;  but  him, 
The  huge  portcullis,  and  those  gates  of  brass, 
Christ  threw  to  earth.     As  down  the  cavern  stream'd 
The  radiance  :  '  Light,'  said  Adam,  '  this,  that  breathed 
First  on  me.     Thou  art  come,  expected  Lord  ! ' "' 

Much  that  follows  is  closely  copied  by  Frezzi  from  our 
poet. 


•  Honour  the  bard  suih'me /—"  Onorate  V  altissimo 
poeta."  So  Chiabrera,  "  Canz.  Erioche,"  32  :  "  Onorando 
1'  altissimo  poeta." 

•  Of  semblance  neither  sorrowful  nor  glad. — 

"  She  nas  to  sober  ne  to  glad." 

Chaucer's  Dream. 


20 


THE  VISION. 


8s— ">■ 


» 


The  third  is  Naso ;  Lucan  is  the  last. 
Because  they  all  that  appellation  own, 
With  which  the  voice  singly  accosted  me, 
Honouring  they  greet  me  thus,  and  well  they  judge. 

So  I  beheld  united  the  bright  school 
Of  him  the  monarch  of  sublimest  song,^ 
That  o'er  the  others  like  an  eagle  soars. 

When  they  together  short  discourse  had  held, 
They  turn'd  to  me,  with  salutation  kind 
Beckoning  me ;   at  the  which  my  master  smiled : 
Nor  was  this  all ;   but  greater  honour  still 
They  gave  me,  .for  they  made  me  of  their  tribe; 
And  I  was  sixth  amid  so  learn'd  a  band. 

Far  as  the  luminous  beacon  on  we  pass'd, 
Speaking  of  matters,  then  befitting  well 
To  speak,  now  fitter  left  untold.^     At  foot 
Of  a  magnificent  castle  we  arrived, 
Seven  times  with  lofty  walls  begirt,  and  round 
Defended  by  a  pleasant  stream.      O'er  this 
As  o'er  dry  land  we  pass'd.      Next,  through  seven  gates, 
I  with  those  sages  enter'd,  and  we  came 
Into  a  mead  with  lively  verdure  fresh. 

There  dwelt  a  race,  who  slow  their  eyes  around 
Majestically  moved,  and  in  their  port 
Bore  eminent  authority :   they  spake 
Seldom,  but  all  their  words  were  tuneful  sweet. 

We  to  one  side  retired,  into  a  place 


'  Tlie  monarch  of  sublimest  soitf;. — Homer.  It  ap- 
pears, from  a  passage  in  the  "  Convito,"  that  there  was  no 
Latin  translation  of  Homer  in  Dante's  time.  "Sappio 
ciascuno,"  &c.,  p.  20.  "Every  one  should  know  that 
nothing,  harmonised  by  musical  enchainment,  can  be 
transmuted  from  one  tongue  into  another  without  break- 
ing all  its  sweetness  and  harmony.  And  this  is  the 
reason  why  Homer  has  never  been  turned  from  Greek 
into  Latin,  as  the  other  writers  we  have«oT  theirs."  This 
sentence,  I  fear,  may  well  be  regarded  as  conclusive 
against  the  present  undertaking.  Yet  would  I  willingly 
bespeak  for  it  at  least  so  much  indulgence  as  Politian 
claimed  for  himself,  when  in  the  Latin  translation,  which 
he  afterwards  made  of  Homer,  but  which  has  since  un- 
fortunately perished,  he  ventured  on  certain  liberties, 
both  ol  phraseology  and  metre,  for  which  the  nicer  critics 
of  his  time  thought  fit  to  call  him  to  an  account :  "  Ego 


vero  tametsi  rudis  in  prlmis  non  adeo  tamen  obtusi  sum 
pectoris  in  vcrsibus  maxime  faciundis,  ut  spatia  ista 
morasque  non  sentiam.  Vero  cum  mihi  de  Gneco  pxne 
ad  verbum  forent  antiquissima  interpretanda  carmina, 
fateor  affcctavi  equidcm  ut  in  verbis  obsoletam  vetustalera, 
sic  ill  mensura  ips4  et  numero  gratani  quandam  ut  spcravi 
novitatem."  Ep.  lib.  i.,  Baptists  Guarina 
•  Fitter  left  untold.— 

"Che'ltaceredbello." 
So  our  poet,  in  Canzone  14  : 

"  La  vide  in  parte  chel  tacere  i  bella" 
Ruccellai,  "  Le  Api,"  789  : 

"  Ch'  a  dire  k  brutto  ed  a  tacerlo  e  bello." 
And  Bembo  : 

"Vie  piii  bello  4  il  tacerle,  che  il  favellarne." 

Gli  Asol.,  lib.  I. 


A  20. 


So  I  beheld  united  the  bright  school 
Of  him  the  monarch  of  sublimest  song, 
That  o'er  the  others  like  an  eagle  soars. 

Canto  I  v.,  lines  S9-91. 


J 12— 138. 


HELL. 


:anto  IV. 


21 


Open,  and  bright,  and  lofty,  whence  each  one 

Stood  manifest  to  view.      Incontinent, 

There  on  the  green  enamel'  of  the  plain 

Were  shown  me  the  great  spirits,  by  whose  sight 

I  am  exalted  in  my  own  esteem. 

Electra^  there  I  saw  accompanied 
By  many,  among  whom  Hector  I  knew, 
Anchiscs'  pious  son,  and  with  hawk's  eye 
Csesar  all  arm'd,  and  by  Camilla  there 
Penthesilea.      On  the  other  side. 
Old  King  Latinus  seated  by  his  child 
Lavinia,  and  that  Brutus  I  beheld 
Who  Tarquin  chased,  Lucretia,  Cato's  wife 
Marcia,  with  Julia^  and  Cornelia  there ; 
And  sole  apart  retired,  the  Soldan  fierce.* 

Then  when  a  little  more  I  raised  my  brow, 
I  spied  the  master  of  the  sapient  throng,^ 


'  Green  enamel. — "  Verde  smalto."     Dante  here  uses  a 
metaphor  that  has  since  become  very  common  in  poetry. 
"  o'er  the  smooth  enamell'd  green." 

Milton,  Arcades. 
"  Enamelling,  and  perhaps  pictures  in  enamel,  were 
common  in  the  Middle  Ages,"  &c.  IVarton,  History  of 
English  Poetry,  v.  i.,  c.  xiii.,  p.  376.  "  This  art  flourished 
most  at  Limoges,  in  France.  So  early  as  the  year  1 197, 
we  h:ive  diias  tabulas  aneas  siiperauratas  de  labore 
Limogia.  '  Chart,  ann.  1 197  apud  Ughelin,'  torn.  vii. , 
'  Ital.  Sacr.,'  p.  1274."  IVarton.  Ibid.  Additions  to  v.  i. 
printed  in  vol.  ii.  Compare  Walpole's  "Anecdotes  of 
Painting  in  England,"  vol.  i.,  c.  ii. 

'  Electra.  —  The  daughter  of  Atlas,  and  mother  of 
Dardanus,  the  founder  of  Troy.  See  Virgil,  "i4£neid," 
viii.  134,  as  referred  to  by  Dante  in  the  treatise,  "  De 
Monarchia,"  lib.  ii.  "  Electra,  scilicet,  nata  magni 
nominis  rcKis  Atlantis,  ut  de  ambobus  testimonium  reddit 
poeta  noster  in  ocUvo,  ubi  yEneas  ad  Evandrum  sic  ait. 
'Dardanus  Iliaca:,' "  &c. 

'  ynlia.— The  daughter  of  Julius  Csesar,  and  wife  of 
Pompey. 

*  T/ie  Soldan  fierce. — Saladin,  or  Salaheddin,  the  rival 
of  Richard  Cceur  de  Lion.  See  D'Herbelot,  "  Bibl. 
Orient. ; "  the  "  Life  of  Saladin,"  by  Bohao'edin  Ebn 
Shednd,  published  by  Albert  Schultens,  with  a  Latin 
translation  ;  and  KnoUes's  "  History  of  the  Turks,"  p. 
57  to  73.  "  About  this  time  (i  193)  died  the  great  Sultan 
Saladin,  the  greatest  terror  of  the  Christians,  who,  mind- 
ful of  man's  fragility,  and  the  vanity  of  worldly  honours, 
commanded,  at  the  time  of  his  death,  no  solemnity  to  be 
used  at  his  burial ;  but  only  his  shirt,  in  manner  of  an 
ensign,  made  fast  unto  the  point  of  a  lance,  to  be  carried 
before  his  dead  body  as  an  ensign,  a  plain  priest  going 
before,  and  crying  aloud  unto  the  people  in  this  sort : 


'  Saladin,  Conqueror  of  the  East,  of  all  the  greatness  and 
riches  he  had  in  his  life,  carrieth  not  with  him  anything 
more  than  his  shirt.'  A  sight  worthy  so  great  a  king,  as 
wanted  nothing  to  his  eternal  commendation  more  than 
the  true  knowledge  of  his  salvation  in  Christ  Jesus.  He 
reigned  about  sixteen  years  with  great  honour."  He  is 
introduced  by  Petrarch  in  the  "Triumph  of  Fame,"  c.  ii.  \ 
and  by  Boccaccio  in  the  "  Decameron,"  G.  x.,  N.  9. 

'  The  master  0/ the  sapient  throng. — "  Maestro  di  color 
che  sanno."  Aristotle.  Petrarch  assigns  the  first  place 
to  Plato.     See  "  Triumph  of  Fame,"  c.  iiL 

"  Volsimi  da  man  manca,  e  vidi  Plato 

Che  'n  quella  schiera  ando  piu  presso  al  segno 
A  qual  aggiunge,  a  chi  dal  cielo  i  dato. 
Aristotile  poi  pien  d'  alto  ingcgno." 

Pulci,  in  his  "  Morgante  Maggiore,"  c.  xviii.,  says : 

"  Tu  se'  il  maestro  di  color  che  sanno." 

The  reverence  in  which  the  Stagirite  was  held  by  our 
author  cannot  be  better  shown  than  by  a  passage  in  his 
"  Convito,"  p.  142  :  "  Che  Aristotile  sia  degnissimo,"  &c 
"  That  Aristotle  is  most  worthy  of  trust  and  obedience, 
may  be  thus  proved.  Amongst  the  workmen  or  artificers 
of  different  arts  and  operations,  which  are  in  order  to 
some  final  art  or  operation,  he  who  is  the  artist  or 
operator  in  that  ought  chiefly  to  be  obeyed  and  trusted 
by  the  rest,  as  being  the  one  who  alone  considers  the 
ultimate  end  of  all  the  other  ends.  Thus,  he  who  exer- 
cises the  occupation  of  a  knight  ought  to  be  obeyed  by 
the  sword-cutlcr,  the  bridle-maker,  the  armourer,  and  by 
all  those  trades  which  are  in  order  to  the  occupation  of  a 
knight.  And  because  all  human  operations  respect  a 
certain  end,  which  is  that  of  human  life,  to  which  man, 
inasmuch  as  he  is  man,  is  ordained,  the  master  or  artist, 
who  considers  of  and  teaches  us  that,  ought  chiefly  to  be 


22 


THE  VISION. 


129— 14S. 


Seated  amid  the  philosophic  train. 
Him  all  admire,  all  pay  him  reverence  dua 
There  Socrates  and  Plato  both  I  mark'd 
Nearest  to  him  in  rank,  Democritus, 
Who  sets  the  world  at  chance,'  Diogenes, 
With  Heraclitus,  and  Empedocles, 
And  Anaxagoras,  and  Thales  sage, 
Zeno,  and  Dioscorides  well  read 
In  Nature's  secret  lore.      Orpheus  I  mark'd 
And  Linus,  Tully  and  moral  Seneca, 
Euclid  and  Ptolemy,  Hippocrates, 
Galenus,  Avicen,^  and  him  who  made 
That  commentary  vast,  Averroes.^ 

Of  all  to  speak  at  full  were  vain  attempt ; 
For  my  wide  theme  so  urges,  that  ofttimes 
My  words  fall  short  of  what  bechanced.      In  two 
The  six  associates  part.      Another  way 
My  sage  guide  leads  me,  from  that  air  serene. 
Into  a  climate  ever  vex'd  with  storms: 
And  to  a  part  I  come,  where  no  light  shines. 


obeyed  and  trusted.  Now  this  is  no  other  than  Aristotle ; 
and  he  is  therefore  the  most  deserving  of  trust  and 
obedience." 

'  Demoailus,  who  sels  the  world  at  chance. — Demo- 
critus, who  maintained  the  world  to  have  been  formed 
by  the  fortuitous  concourse  of  atoms. 

»  Avicen.—Sts  D'Herbelot,  "  Bibl.  Orient.,"  article 
"  Sina."     He  died  in  lojo.     Pulci  here  again  imitates  our 

poet: 

"Avicenna  quel  che  il  sentimento 
Intese  di  Aristotile  e  i  segreti, 
Averrois  che  fece  il  gran  coniento." 

Morgante  Maggiore,  c.  kxv. 

Chaucer,  in  the  Prologue  to  the  "  Canterbury  Tales," 
makes  the  Doctour  of  Phisike  familiar  with 

"  Avicen, 
Averrois." 
"  Sguarda  Avicenna  mio  con  tre  corona, 

Ch'  egli  fil  Prence,  e  di  scienza  pieno, 
E  ulil  tanto  all'  umane  persone." 

Frezzi,  II  Qicadiiregio,  1.  iv.,  cap.  9. 

"Fuit  Avicenna  vir  summi  ingenii,  magnus  Philosoplius, 
excellens  mcdicus,  et  summus  apud  suos  Theologus." 
Sebastian  Scheflcr,  Introd.  in  "  Artem  Medicam,"  p.  63, 
as  quoted  in  the  "  Historical  Observations  on  the  Quadri- 
regio."    Ediz.  1725. 

•  Him  who  made  Ihat  commentary  vast,  Averroes. — 

"11  gran  Platonc,  e  1'  altro  che  sU  attento 


Mi  rando  il  cielo,  e  sta  a  liii  a  lato 
Averrois,  che  fece  il  gran  comeiito." 

Frezzi,  II  Quadriregio,  1.  iv.,  cap.  9. 

Averroes,  called  by  the  Arabians  Roschd,  translated 
and  commented  the  works  of  Aristotle.  According  to 
Tiraboschi  ("  Storia  della  Lett,  Ital.,"  t.  v.,1.  ii.,  c.  ii.,  §  4) 
he  was  the  source  of  modern  philosophical  impiety. 
The  critic  quotes  some  passages  from  Petrarch  ("Senil.," 
L  v.,  ep.  iii.,  et  "Oper.,"  v.  ii.,  p.  1 143)  to  show  how  strongly 
sucli  sentiments  prevailed  in  the  time  of  that  poet,  by 
whom  they  were  held  in  horror  and  detestation.  He 
adds,  that  this  fanatic  admirer  of  Aristotle  translated  his 
writings  with  that  felicity  which  might  be  expected  from 
one  who  did  "not  know  a  syllable  of  Greek,  and  who  was 
therefore  compelled  to  avail  himself  of  the  unfaithful 
Arabic  versions.  U'Hcrbelot,  on  the  other  hand,  in- 
f  irm.s  us  that  "  Averroes  was  the  first  who  translated 
Aristotle  from  Greek  into  Arabic,  before  the  Jews  had 
made  their  translation ;  and  that  we  had  for  a  long 
time  no  other  text  of  Aristotle  except  that  of  the  Latin 
translation,  which  was  made  from  this  Arabic  version  of 
this  great  philosopher  (Averroes),  who  afterwards  added 
to  it  a  very  ample  commentary,  of  which  Thomas  Aquinas, 
and  the  other  scholastic  writers,  availed  themselves,  be- 
fore the  Greek  originals  of  Aristotle  and  his  commenta- 
tors were  known  to  us  in  Europe."  According  to  D'Her- 
belot, he  died  in  1 198;  but  Tiraboschi  places  that  event 
about  1206. 


f 


c 


CANTO    V. 


9>  ,  ARGUMENT. 

Coming  into  the  second  circle  of  Hell,  Dante  at  the  entrance  beholds  Minos  the  Infernal  Judge,  by  whom  be  is 
admonished  to  beware  how  he  enters  those  regions.  Here  he  witnesses  the  punishment  of  carnal  sinners,  who 
are  tost  about  ceaselessly  in  the  dark  air  by  the  most  furious  winds.  Amongst  these,  he  meets  with  Francesca  of 
Rimini,  through  pity  at  whose  sad  tale  he  falls  fainting  to  the  ground. 

T^ROM  the  first  circle^  I  descended  thus 

Down  to  the  second,  which,  a  lesser  space 
Embracing,  so  much  more  of  grief  contains, 
Provoking  bitter  moans.     There  Minos  stands, 
Grinning  with  ghastly  feature;-  he,  of  all 
Who  enter,  strict  examining  the  crimes, 
Gives  sentence,  and  dismisses  them  beneath, 
According  as  he  foldeth  him  around : 
For  when  before  him  comes  the  ill-fated  soul, 
It  all  confesses  ;   and  that  judge  severe 
Of  sins,  considering  what  place  in  hell 
Suits  the  transgression,  with  his  tail  so  oft 
Himself  encircles,  as  degrees  beneath 
He  dooms  it  to  descend.      Before  him  stand 
Alway  a  numerous  throng ;   and  in  his  turn 
Each  one  to  judgment  passing,  speaks,  and  hears 
His  fate,  thence  downward  to  his  dwelling  hurl'd. 

"  Oh  thou  !    who  to  this  residence  of  woe 
Approachest  I  •"  when  he  saw  me  coming,  cried 
Minos,  relinquishing  his  dread  employ, 
"  Look  how  thou  enter  here ;   beware  in  whom 
Thou  place  thy  trust ;   let  not  the  entrance  broad 


'  From  the  first  circk. — Chiabrera's  twenty-first  sonnet 
is  on  a  painting,  by  Cesare  Corte,  from  this  canto.  Mr. 
Fuseli,  a  much  greater  name,  has  lately  employed  his 
wonder-working  pencil  on  the  same  subject. 


•  Grinning  with  ghastly  feature.—  Hence  Milton  : 
«  Death 
Grinn'd  horrible  a  ghastly  smile. 

Paradise  Lost.  b.  ii.  84  5 


24 


THE    VISION. 


«3— S* 


Deceive  thee  to  thy  harm."     To  him  my  ^ide: 

"Wherefore  exclaimest?      Hinder  not  his  way 

By  destiny  appointed  ;   so  'tis  will'd, 

Where  will  and  power  are  one.      Ask  thou  no  more.* 

Now  'gin  the  rueful  wai lings  to  be  heard. 
Now  am  I  come  where  many  a  plaining  voice 
Smites  on  mine  ear.      Into  a  place  I  came 
Where  light  was  silent  all.      Bellowing  there  groan 
A  noise,  as  of  a  sea  in  tempest  torn 
By  warring  winds.     The  stormy  blast  of  hell 
With  restless  fury  drives  the  spirits  on, 
Whirl'd  round,  and  dash'd  amain  with  sore  annoy. 
When  they  arrive  before  the  ruinous  sweep. 
There  shrieks  are  heard,  there  lamentations,  moans, 
And  blasphemies  'gainst  the  good  Power  in  heaven. 

I  understood,  that  to  this  torment  sad 
The  carnal  sinners  are  condemn'd,  in  whom 
Reason  by  lust  is  sway'd.     As  in  large  troops 
And  multitudinous,  when  winter  reigns, 
The  starlings  on  their  wings  are  borne  abroad ; 
So  bears  the  tyrannous  gust  those  evil  souls. 
On  this  side  and  on  that,  above,  below,  . 
It  drives  them  :   hope  of  rest  to  solace  them  , 
Is  none    nor  e'en  of  milder  pang.     As  cranes. 
Chanting  their  dolorous  notes,'  traverse  the  sky, 
Stretch'd  out  in  long  array ;   so  I  beheld 
Spirits,  who  came  loud  wailing,  hurried  on 
By  their  dire  doom.     Then  I  :    "  Instructor  I   who 
Are  these,  by  the  black  air  so  scourged?" — "The  first 
'Mong  those,  of  whom  thou  question'st,"  he  replied, 
"  O'er  many  tongues  was  empress.     She  in  vice 
Of  luxury  was  so  shameless,  that  she  made 


•  As  cranes,  ekanting  their  dolorous  notes. — This  simile 
is  imitated  by  Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  in  his  "  Ambra,"  a 
poem,  first  published  by  Mr.  Roscoc,  in  the  Appendix  to 
his  "  Life  of  Lorenzo  :  " 

"  Marking  the  tracts  of  air,  tlie  clamorous  cranes 
Wheel  tlieir  due  flight  in  varied  ranks  descried  ; 


And  each  with  outstretch'd  neck  his  rank  maintains,    ' 
In  roarshall'd  order  through  the  ethereal  void." 

Roscoe,  V.  i.,  c.  v.,  p.  257,  4to  edit. 

Compare  Homer,  "  Iliad,"  iii.  3  ;  Virgil,  "  /Eneid,"  I.  x. 
264 ;  Oppian,  "  Halieut.,"  lib.  i.  620  ;  Ruccellai,  "  Le 
Api,"  942  ;  and  Dante's  "  Purgatory,"  xxiv.  63. 


p.  24. 


The  stormy  blast  of  hell 
With  restless  fury  drives  the  spirits  on. 

Canto  V. ,  lines  yi,  33. 


55-84. 


HELL. — CANTO   V. 


25 


Liking^  be  lawful  by  promulged  decree, 

To  clear  the  blame  she  had  herself  incurr'd. 

This  is  Semiramis,  of  whom  'tis  writ, 

That  she  succeeded  Ninus  her  espoused  ;* 

And  held  the  land,  which  now  the  Soldan  rules. 

The  next  in  amorous  fury  slew  herself, 

And  to  Sicheus'  ashes  broke  her  faith: 

Then  follows  Cleopatra,  lustful  queen." 

There  mark'd  I  Helen,  for  whose  sake  so  long 
The  time  was  fraught  with  evil ;    there  the  great 
Achilles,  who  with  love  fought  to  the  end. 
Paris  I  saw,  and  Tristan  ;   and  beside, 
A  thousand  more  he  show'd  me,  and  by  name 
Pointed  them  out,  whom  love  bereaved  of  life. 

When  I  had  heard  my  sage  instructor  name 
Those  dames  and  knights  of  antique  days,  o'erpower'd 
By  pity,  well-nigh  in  amaze  my  mind 
Was  lost ;   and  I  began:    "Bard!   willingly 
I  would  address  those  two  together  coming, 
Which  seem  so  light  before  the  wind."     He  thus: 
*'  Note  thou,  when  nearer  they  to  us  approach. 
Then  by  that  love  which  carries  them  along. 
Entreat ;   and  they  will  come."     Soon  as  the  wind 
Sway'd  them  toward  us.  I  thus  framed  my  speech : 
*'  Oh,  wearied  spirits  1   come,  and  hold  discourse 
With  us,  if  by  none  else  restram'd."     As  doves 
By  fond  desire  invited,  on  wide  wings 
And  firm,  to  their  sweet  nest  returning  home, 
Cleave  the  air,  wafted  by  their  will  along ; 
Thus  issued,  from  that  troop  where  Dido  ranks, 


•  liking. — *  His  lustes  were  as  law  in  his  degree." 

Chaucer,  Moitke's  Tale.    Nero. 
'  That  she  succeeded  Ninus  her  espoused.— 
"  Che  succedette  a  Nino  e  fu  sua  sposa." 
M.  Artaud,  in  his  "Histoire  de  Dante,"  p.  589,  mentions 
a  manuscript  work  called  "  Attacanti's.  Quadragesimale 
de  reditu  peccatoris  ad  Deum,"  in  which  the  line  is  thus 
cited: 

"  Che  sugger  delte  a  Nino  e  fu  sua  sposa." 
"  Who  suckled  Ninus,  and  was  his  wife." 
This  renuirkable  reading  had  been  before  noticed  by  Fe- 


derici :  "  Intorno  ad  alcune  varianti  nel  testo  della  'Di- 
vina  Commedia.'  Edit.  Milan,  1836."  See  the  "Biblio- 
teca  Italiana,"  torn.  82,  p.  282.  It  appears  from  the 
treatise  "  De  Monarchia "  (1.  ii.)  that  Dante  derived  his 
knowledge  of  Assyrian  history  from  his  favourite  author 
Orosius  (1.  i.,  c.  iv.),  who  relates  that  Semiramis  both  suc- 
ceeded Ninus  through  the  artifice  of  personating  her  son, 
and  that  she  committed  incest  with  her  son  ;  but  as  the 
name  of  her  husband  Ninus  only  is  there  recorded,  and 
as  other  historians  call  the  son  Ninias,  it  is  probable 
that  the  common  reading  is  right. 


26 


THE    VISION. 


85—109. 


They,  through  the  ill  air  speeding :  with  such  force 
My  cry  prevail'd,  by  strong  affection  urged. 

"  Oh,  gracious  creature  and  benign  I  who  go'st 
Visiting,  through  this  element  obscure,' 
Us,  who  the  world  with  bloody  stain  imbrued ; 
If,  for  a  friend,  the  King  of  all,  we  own'd. 
Our  prayer  to  him  should  for  thy  peace  arise, 
Since  thou  hast  pity  on  our  evil  plight. 
Of  whatsoe'er  to  hear  or  to  discourse 
It  pleases  thee,  that  will  we  hear,  of  that 
Freely  with  thee  discourse,  while  e'er  the  wind. 
As  now,  is  mute.     The  land,^  that  gave  me  birth, 
Is  situate  on  the  coast,  where  Po  descends 
To  rest  in  ocean  with  his  sequent  streams. 

"  Love,  that  in  gentle  heart  is  quickly  learnt,' 
Entangled  him  by  that  fair  form,  from  me 
Ta'en  in  such  cruel  sort,  as  grieves  me  still : 
Love,  that  denial  takes  from  none  beloved,* 
Caught  me  with  pleasing  him  so  passing  well, 
That,  as  thou  seest,  he  yet  deserts  me  not. 
Love  brought  us  to  one  death :    Cama^  waits 
The  soul,  who  spilt  our  life."     Such  were  their  words; 
At  hearing  which,  downward  I  bent  my  looks. 
And  held  them  there  so  long,  that  the  bard  cried : 
"  What  art  thou  pondering?"     I  in  answer  thus: 


'  Element  obscure. — "  L'aer  perso."  Much  is  said  by 
the  commentators  concerning  the  exact  sense  of  the  word 
"perso."  It  cannot  be  explained  in  clearer  terms  than 
those  used  by  Uante  himself  in  his  "  Convito  :"  "  II  perso 
i  un  colore  misto  di  purpureo  e  nero,  ma  vince  il  nero," 
p.  185.  "  It  is  a  colour  mixed  of  purple  and  black,  but 
the  black  prevails."  The  word  recurs  several  times  in 
this  poem.  Chaucer  also  uses  it,  in  the  Prologue  to  the 
"  Canterbury  Tales,"  Uoctour  of  Phisiko  : 

"In  sanguin  and  in  pprse  he  clad  was  alle." 

'  The  land. — Ravenna. 

•  Love,  thai  in  j;entle  heart  is  quichly  learnt. — 
"  Amor,  ch'al  cor  gentil  ratto  s'apprcnde." 
A  line  taken  by  Marino,  "  Adone,"  c.  cxli.,  St.  251. 
That  the  i.'iader  of  the  original  may  not  be  misled  as  to 
the  exact  s»'nse  of  the  word  "  s'apprende,"  which  I  have 
rendered  "is  ieamt,"  it  may  be  right  to  apprise  him  that 
it  signifies  "is  taught,"  and  that  it  is  a  metaphor  from  a 
thing  taking  fire.    Thus  it  is  used  by  Guido  Guinicelli, 


whom  indeed  our  poet   seems  here   to   have   had    in 
view : 

"  Fuoco  d'Amore  in  gentil  cor  s'apprende. 
Come  vertute  in  pietra  preziosa." 
Sonetti,(fc.,didiversiAntichi   Toscani.     Edis.  Giunti, 
1527,  1.  ix.,  p.  107. 

"  The  fire  of  love  in  gentle  heart  is  caught. 
As  virtue  in  the  precious  stone." 

*  Love,  that  denial  takes  from  none  beloved.^ 

"  Amor  ch'  a  null'  amato  amar  perdona." 
So  Boccaccio,  in  his  "  Filocopo,"  I.  I : 

"  Amore,  mai  non  perdono  I'amore  a  nullo  amato." 
And  Pulci,  in  the  "  Morgante  Maggiore,"  c.  iv. : 

"  E  perchu  amor  mal  volontier  perdona, 
Che  non  sia  al  fin  sempre  amato  clii  ama." 
Indeed,  many  of  the   Italian    poets   have  repeated  this 
verse. 

*  Calna. — The  place  to  which  murderers  are  doomed. 


I 


rt 

c 
'5 
U 


11 
-a 
u 
c 
o 


3 
O 

> 

O 


IK 


-130. 


HELL.- 


:anto  V. 


27 


"  Alas  !   by  what  sweet  thoughts,  what  fond  desire 
Must  they  at  length  to  that  ill  pass  have  reach 'd  ! " 
Then  turning,  I   to  them  my  speech  address'd. 
And  thus  began  :    "  Francesca  l^  your  sad  fate 
Even  to  tears  my  grief  and  pity  moves. 
But  tell  me ;    in  the  time  of  your  sweet  sighs, 
By  what,  and  how  Love  granted,  that  ye  knew 
Your  yet  uncertain  wishes?"     She  replied: 
"  No  greater  grief  than  to  remember  days 
Of  joy,  when  misery  is  at  hand,*^     That  kens 
Thy  learn'd  instructor.     Yet  so  eagerly 
If  thou  art  bent  to  know  the  primal  root. 
From  whence  our  love  gat  being,  I  will  do 
As  one,  who  weeps  and  tells  his  tale.     One  day, 
For  our  delight  we  read  of  Lancelot,^ 
How  him  love  thrall 'd.     Alone  we  were,  and  no 
Suspicion  near  us.     Oft-times  by  that  reading 
Our  eyes  were  drawn  together,  and  the  hue 
Fled  from  our  alter'd  cheek.     But  at  one  point* 
Alone  we  fell.     When  of  that  smile  we  read, 
The  wished  smile  so  rapturously  kiss'd 


'  Francesca. — Francesca,  daughter  of  Guldo  da  Polenta, 
lord  of  Ravenna,  was  given  by  her  father  in  marriage  to 
Lanciotto,  son  of  Malatesta,  lord  of  Rimini,  a  man  of 
extraordinary  courage,  but  deformed  in  his  person.  His 
brother  Paolo,  who  unhappily  possessed  those  graces 
which  the  husband  of  Francesca  wanted,  engaged  her 
affections ;  and  being  taken  in  adultery,  they  were  both 
put  to  death  by  the  enraged  Lanciotto.  See  Notes  to 
canto  xxvii.,  vs.  38  and  43.  Troya  relates  that  they  were 
buried  together  ;  and  that  three  centuries  after,  the  bodies 
were  found  at  Rimini,  whither  they  had  been  removed 
from  Pesaro,  with  the  silken  garments  yet  fresh. — "  Veltro 
Allegorico  di  Dante,"  -Ediz.  1826,  p.  33.  The  whole  of 
this  passage  is  alluded  to  by  Petrarch,  in  his  "  Triumph  of 
Love,"  c.  iii.  : 

"  Ecco  quei  che  le  carte  empion  di  sogni 
Lancilolto  Tristano  e  gli  altri  erranti: 
Onde  convien  che  '1  vulgo  errantc  aKogni} 
Vedi  Gincvra,  Isotta  e  Taltre  amanli ; 
E  la  coppia  d'Arimino  che  'nsieme 
Vanno  facendo  dolorosi  pianti." 

Mr.  Leigh  Hunt  has  expanded  the  present  episode  into  a 
beautiful  poem,  in  his  "  Story  of  Rimini." 

'  No  greater  grief  than  to  remember  days  0/  joy,  when 
misery  is  at  hand. — Imitated  by  Chaucer : 


"  For  of  Fortunis  sharp  adversite 
The  worste  kind  of  infortune  is  this, 
A  man  to  have  been  in  prosper!  te, 
And  it  remembir  when  it  passid  is." 

Troilus  and  Creseide,  b.  iii. 
By  Marino  : 

"  Che  non  ha  doglia  il  misero  maggiore, 
Che  ricordar  la  gioia  entro  il  dolore." 

Adone,  c.  xiv.,  St.  too. 
And  by  Fortiguerra  : 

"  Rimembrare  il  ben  perduto 
Fa  piil  meschino  lo  presente  stato." 

Ricciaidctto,  c.  xi.,  st.  83. 

The  original,  perhaps,  was  in  Boetius,  "  De  Consolatione 
Philosophise:"  "In  omni  adversitate  forlunas  infelicis- 
simum  genus  est  infortunii  fuisse  felicem  et  non  esse," 
1.  2,  pr.  4.  Boetius,  and  Cicero,  "  De  Amicitia,"  were  the 
two  first  books  that  engaged  the  attention  of  Dante,  as  he 
himself  tells  us  in  the  "  Convito,"  p.  68. 

'  Lancelot. — One  of  the  Knights  of  the  Round  Table, 
and  the  lover  of  Ginevra,  or  Guinever,  celebrated  in 
romance.  The  incident  alluded  to  seems  to  have  made  a 
strong  impression  on  the  imagination  of  Dante,  who  in- 
troduces it  again  in  the  "  Paradise,"  canto  xvi. 

*  At  one  point. — "  Questo  quel  punto  fu,  che  sol  mi 
vinse."     Tasso,  II  Torrismondo,  a.  i.,  s.  3. 


28 


THE  VISION. 


131—138. 


By  one  so  deep  in  love,  then  he,  who  ne'er 
FVom  me  shall  separate,  at  once  my  lips 
All  trembling  kiss'd.     The  book  and  writer  both 
Were  love's  purveyors.     In  its  leaves  that  day 
We  read  no  more."'     While  thus  one  spirit  spake, 
The  other  wail'd  so  sorely,  that  heart-struck 
I,  through  compassion  fainting,  seem'd  not  far 
From  death,  and  like  a  corse  fell  to  the  ground.* 


>  Tn  its  leaves  ihit  day  we  read  no  OT<?r^— Nothing 
can  exceed  the  delicacy  with  which  Francesca  in  these 
words  intimates  her  guilt. 

•  And  like  a  corse  fell  to  the  grcvwL— 

"  E  caddi,  come  corpo  morto  cade." 
SoPulci: 


"  E  cadde,  come  morto  in  terra  cade." 
And  Ariosto  :  Morgante  Maggiore,  c.  «ii. 

"  E  cada,  come  corpo  morto  cade." 

Orlando  Furiose,  c.  ii.,  St.  55. 
"And  when  I  saw  him,  I  fell  at  liis  feet  as  dead," 
Rev.  i.  17. 


A  28. 


In  its  leaves  that  day 
We  read  no  more. 


Canio  v.,  lines  134,  135. 


p.  28. 


I,  through  compassion  fainting,  seem'd  not  far 
From  death,  and  like  a  corse  fell  to  the  ground. 


Canto  v.,  lines  lyj,  138. 


CANTO    VI. 


^  ARGUMENT. 

On  his  recovery,  the  poet  finds  himself  in  the  third  circle,  where  the  gluttonous  are  punished.  Their  torment  is,  to  lie 
in  the  mire,  under  a  continual  and  heavy  storm  of  hail,  snow,  and  discoloured  water  ;  Cerberus  meanwhile  barking 
over  them  with  his  threefold  throat,  and  rending  them  piecemeal.  One  of  these,  who  on  earth  was  named  Ciacco, 
foretells  the  divisions  with  which  Florence  is  about  to  be  distracted.  Dante  proposes  a  question  to  his  g-dide,  who 
solves  it ;  and  they  proceed  towards  the  fourth  circle. 

A  /TY  sense  reviving,^  that  erewhile  had  droop'd 

With  pity  for  the  kindred  shades,  whence  grief 
O'ercame  me  wholly,  straight  around  I  see 
New  torments,  new  tormented  souls,  which  way 
Soe'er  I  move,  or  turn,  or  bend  my  sight. 
In  the  third  circle  I  arrive,  of  showers 
Ceaseless,  accursed,  heavy  and  cold,  unchanged 
For  ever,  both  in  kind  and  in  degree. 
Large  hail,  discolour'd  water,  sleety  flaw 
Through  the  dun  midnight  air  stream'd  down  amain : 
Stank  all  the  land  whereon  that  tempest  fell. 

Cerberus,  cruel  monster,  fierce  and  strange, 
Through  his  wide  threefold  throat,  barks  as  a  dog 
Over  the  multitude  immersed  beneath. 
His  eyes  glare  crimson,  black  his  unctuous  beard. 
His  belly  large,  and  claw'd  the  hands,  with  which 
He  tears  the  spirits,  flays  them,  and  their  limbs 
Piecemeal  disparts.     Howling  there  spread,  as  curs, 
Under  the  rainy  deluge,  with  one  side 
The  other  screening,  oft  they  roll  them  round, 
A  wretched,  godless  crew.     When  that  great  worm* 


'  3fy  sense  reviving. — 

"  Al  tornar  della  mente,  che  si  chiuse^ 
Dinanzi  alia  pieta  de'  duo  cognati." 
Bern!  has  made  a  sportive  application  of  these  lines,  in 
his  "Orl.  Inn,"  lib.  iii.,  c.  viii.,  sL  I. 


infinita;  magnitudinis  ligatus  maxim^  catenii."-- ylflerict 
Visio,  §  9.     In  canto  xxxiv.  Lucifer  is  called 

"  The  abhorred  worm,  that  boreth  through  the  world." 

This  is  imitated  by  Ariosto,  "Orlando  Kiirioso,"  c.  xlvi.. 

St.    76.      Shakespeare,    Milton,  and    Cowper,    who   well 


'  That  great  worm.—"  Juxta— infemum   vermis   erat  understood  that  the  most  common  words  are  often  the 


30 


THE   VISION. 


22—54. 


Descried  us,  savage  Cerberus,  he  oped 

His  jaws,  and  the  fangs  shovv'd  us ;    not  a  limb 

Of  him  but  trembled.     Then  my  guide,  his  palms 

Expanding  on  the  ground,  thence  fill'd  with  earth 

Raised  them,  and  cast  it  in  his  ravenous  maw. 

E'en  as  a  dog,  that  yelling  bays  for  food 

His  keeper,  when  the  morsel  comes,  lets  fall 

His  fury,  bent  alone  with  eager  haste 

To  swallow  it ;   so  dropp'd  the  loathsome  cheeks 

Of  demon  Cerberus,  who  thundering  stuns 

The  spirits,  that  they  for  deafness  wish  in  vain. 

We,  o'er  the  shades  thrown  prostrate  by  the  brunt 
Of  the  heavy  tempest  passing,  set  our  feet 
Upon  their  emptiness,  that  substance  seem'd. 

They  all  along  the  earth  extended  lay, 
Save  one,  that  sudden  raised  himself  to  sit. 
Soon  as  that  way  he  saw  us  pass.     "Oh,  thou!" 
He  cried,  "  who  through  the  infernal  shades  art  led, 
Own,  if  again  thou  know'st  me.     Thou  wast  framed 
Or  ere  my  frame  was  broken."     I  replied  : 
"  The  anguish  thou  endurest  perchance  so  takes 
Thy  form  from  my  remembrance,  that  it  seems 
As  if  I  saw  thee  never.     But  inform 
Me  who  thou  art,  that  in  a  place  so  sad 
Art  set,  and  in  such  torment,  that  although 
Other  be  greater,  none  disgusteth  more." 
He  thus  in  answer  to  my  words  rejoin'd . 
**  Thy  city,  heap'd  with,  envy  to  the  brim,      \ 
Aye,  that  the  measure  overflows  its  bounds,    ^ 
Held  me  in  brighter  days.     Ye  citizens 
Were  wont  to  name  me  Ciacco.'     For  the  sin 
Of  gluttony,  damned  vice,  beneath  this  rain, 
E'en  as  thou  seest,  I  with  fatigue  am  worn: 


most  impressive,  have  used  the  synonymous  term  in  our 
language  with  good  effect ;  as  Pindar  has  done  in  Greek  : 
AwA  Tavyirov  fttp  Aaxatvav 
iiri  ^ftai  giiVa  rpexeiv  trvKiruraTov  iprtrov." 
Heyne's  Pindar,  Fiaipn.  Epinic,  ii.  2-  in  Hieron. 


'  Ye  citizens  were  wont  to  name  me  Ciacco. — So  called 
from  his  inordinate  appetite  ;  ««<:r<7,  in  Italian,  signifying 
a  pig.  The  real  name  of  this  glutton  has  not  been 
transmitted  to  us.  He  is  introduced  in  Boccaccio's 
"  Decameron,"  Giorn.  ix.,  Nov.  8. 


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SS-79-  HELL. — CANTO   VI.  9j 

Nor  I  sole  spirit  in  this  woe :   all  these 
Have  by  like  crime  incurr'd  like  punishment." 

No  more  he  said,  and  I  my  speech  resumed: 
"  Ciacco  !   thy  dire  affliction  grieves  me  much, 
Even  to  tears.     But  tell  me,  if  thou  know'st, 
What  shall  at  length  befall  the  citizens 
Of  the  divided  city;^   whether  any 
^     Just  one  inhabit  there:   and  tell  the  cause 
Whence  jarring  Discord  hath  assail'd  it  thus." 

He  then :  "  After  long  striving  they  will  come 
To  blood  ;  and  the  wild  party  from  the  woods '^ 
Will  chase  the  other^  with  much  injury  forth. 
Then  it  behoves  that  this  must  fall,*  within 
Three  solar  circles  ;^  and  the  other  rise 
By  borrow'd  force  of  one,  who  under  shore 
Now  rests.^     It  shall  a  long  space  hold  aloof 
Its  forehead,  keeping  under  heavy  weight 
The  other  opprest,  indignant  at  the  load, 
And  grieving  sore.     The  just  are  two  in  number,^ 
But  they  neglected.     Avarice,  envy,  pride,* 
Three  fatal  sparks,  have  set  the  hearts  of  all 
On   fire."     Here  ceased  the  lamentable  sound ; 
And  I  continued  thus :    "  Still  would  I  learn 
More  from  thee,  further  parley  still  entreat. 
Of  Farinata  and  Tegghiaio''  say, 


'  The  divided  city. — The  city  of  Florence,  divided  into 
the  Hianchi  and  Neri  factions. 

'  The  wild  party  from  the  woods. — So  called  because 
it  was  headed  by  Veri  de'  Cerchi,  whose  family  had  lately 
come  into  the  city  from  Acone,  and  the  woody  coui;fry  of 


Bardiiccio  and  Giovanni  Vespignano,  adducing  the  follow- 
ing passage  from  Villani  in  support  of  their  opinion  : 
"  In  the  year  1331  died  in  Florence  two  just  and  good 
men,  of  holy  life  and  conversation,  and  bountiful  in  alms- 
giving, althouy;h  laymen.    The  one  was  named  JJarduccio, 


the  \'al  di  Nievole.  j  and  was  buried  in  S.  Spirito,  in  the  place  o^  the  Frati 

•  The  other. — The  opposite  party  of  the  Neri,  at  the  I  Romitani  ;    the  other,  named  Giovanni  da  Vespignano, 
head  of  which  was  Corso  Donati.  1  was  buried  in  S.  Pietro  Maggiore.      And  by  each  God 

•  'I  his  must  fall. — The  Bianchi.  showed  open  miracles,  in  healing  the  sick  and  lunatic 

•  Three  solar  circles. — Three  years.  I  after  divers  manners  ;  and  for  each  there  was  ordained  a 

•  Of  one,  who  under   shore    now  rests. — Charles  of  '  solemn  funeral,  and  many  images  of  wax  set  up  in  dis- 


Valois,  by  whose  means  the  Neri  were  repliiced. 

'  The  just  are  two  in  number. — Who  these  two  were 
the  commentators  are  not  agreed.  Some  understand  them 
to  be  Dante  himself  and  his  friend  Guido  Cavalcanti.  But 
this  would  argue  a  presumption,  which-  our  poet  himself 
elsewhere  contradicts  ;  for,  in  the  "  Purgatory,"  he  owns  his 
consciousness  of  not  being  exempted  from  one  at  least  of 
"  the  three  fatal  sparks,  which  had  set  the  hearts  of  all  on 
fire"  (see  canto  xiii.  126I.     Others  refer  the  encomium  to 


charge  of  vows  that  had  been  made." — G,  Villani,  Ub.  x., 
cap.  clxxix 
»  Avarice,  envy,  pride. — 

"  Invidia,  superbia  ed  avarizia 

Vedea  moltiplicar  tra  miei  figliuoli." 
Fazio  degli  Uberti,  Dittamondo,  lib.  i.,  cap.  xxix. 

■  •  Of  Farinata  and  Tegghiaio. — See  canto  x.  and  Notes, 
and  canto  xvi.  and  Notes. 


32 


THE   VISION. 


80— II<X 


They  who  so  well  deserved  ;   of  Giacopo,' 

Arrigo,  Mosca,-  and  the  rest,  who  bent 

Their  minds  on  working  good.     Oh  I   tell  me  where 

They  bide,  and  to  their  knowledge  let  me  come. 

For  I  am  prest  with  keen  desire  to  hear 

If  heaven's  sweet  cup,  or  poisonous  drug  of  hell, 

Be  to  their  lip  assign'd."     He  answer'd  straight: 

"These  are  yet  blacker  spirits.     Various  crimes 

Have  sunk  them  deeper  in  the  dark  abyss. 

If  thou  so  far  descendest,  thou  may'st  see  them. 

But  to  the  pleasant  world,  when  thou  return'st, 

Of  me  make  mention,  I  entreat  thee,  there. 

No  more  I  tell  thee,  answer  thee  no  more." 

This  said,  his  fixed  eyes  he  turn'd  askance, 
A  little  eyed  me,  then  bent  down  his  head, 
And  'midst  his  blind  companions  with  it  fell. 

When  thus  my  guide :   "  No  more  his  bed  he  leaves, 
Ere  the  last  angel-trumpet  blow.     The  Power 
Adverse  to  these  shall  then  in  glory  come, 
Each  one  forthwith  to  his  sad  tomb  repair, 
Resume'  his  fleshly  vesture  and  his  form, 
And  hear  the  eternal  doom  re-echoing  rend 
The  vault."     So  pass'd  we  through  that  mixture  foul 
Of  spirits  and  rain,  with  tardy  steps;    meanwhile 
Touching,*  though  slightly,  on  the  life  to  come. 
For  thus  I  question'd :   "  Shall  these  tortures,  sir, 
When  the  great  sentence  passes,  be  increased, 
Or  mitigated,  or  as  now  severe?" 

He  then:  "Consult  thy  knowledge;*  that  decides, 
That,  as  each  thing  to  more  perfection  grows, 
It  feels  more  sensibly  both  good  and  pain. 


•  Giacopo. — Giacopo  Rusticucci.     See  canto  xvi. 

•  Arrigo,  Mosca.— 0{  Arrigo  no  mention    afterwards 
occurs.    Mosca  degli  Uberti  is  introduced  in  canto  xxyiii. 

»  Resume. — Imitated  by  Frczzi: 

"  Allor  ripiglieran  la  carne  e  I'ossa  j 

Li  rei  oscuri,  e  i  buon  con  splendori 
Per  la  virtu  della  divina  possa." 

//  Quadriregio,  lib.  iv.,  cap.  xv. 


*  Touching. — Conversing,  though  in  a  slight  and  super- 
ficial manner,  on  the  life  to  come. 

'  Consult  thy  knowledge. — We  are  referred  to  the  fol- 
lowing passage  in  St.  Augustine  :  "  Cum  fiet  resurrectio 
carnis,  et  bonorum  gaudia  et  malorum  tormenta  majora 
erunt."  "At  the  resurrection  of  tlie  flesh,  both  the  happi- 
ness of  the  good  and  the  torments  of  the  wicked  will  be 
increased." 


"'-"?.  HELL. CANTO   VI.  33 

Though  ne'er  to  true  perfection  may  arrive 
This  race  accurst,  yet  nearer  then,  than  now, 
They  shall  approach  it."     Compassing  that  path, 
Circuitous  we  journey 'd  ;   and  discourse. 
Much  more  than  I  relate,  between  us  pass'd: 
Till  at  the  point,  whence  the  steps  led  below, 
Arrived,  there  Plutus,  the  great  foe,  we  found. 


F 


CANTO    VII. 


ARGUMENT. 

In  the  present  canto  Dante  describes  his  descent  into  the  fourth  circle,  at  the  beginning  of  which  he  sees  Plutus 
stationed.  Here  one  like  doom  awaits  the  prodigal  and  the  avaricious  ;  which  is,  to  meet  in  direful  conflict,  rolling 
great  weights  against  each  other  with  mutual  upbraidings.  From  hence  Virgil  takes  occasion  to  show  how  vain  the 
goods  that  are  committed  into  the  charge  of  Fortune ;  and  this  moves  our  author  to  inquire  what  being  that  Fortune 
is,  of  whom  he  speaks  :  which  question  being  resolved,  they  go  down  into  the  fifth  circle,  where  they  find  the 
wrathful  and  gloomy  tormented  in  the  Stygian  lake.  Having  made  a  compass  round  great  part  of  this  lake,  they 
come  at  last  to  the  base  of  a  lofty  tower. 

"  A  H  me!   O  Satan  I   Satan  !"^   loud  exclaim'd 

Plutus,  in  accent  hoarse  of  wild  alarm  : 
And  the  kind  sage,  whom  no  event  surprised, 
To  comfort  me  thus  spake :    "  Let  not  thy  fear 
Harm  thee,  for  power  in  him,  be  sure,  is  none 
To  hinder  down  this  rock  thy  safe  descent." 
Then  to  that  swollen  lip  turning,  "  Peace  1"   he  cried, 
"Curst  wolf  I    thy  fury  inward  on  thyself 
Prey,  and  consume  thee  I     Through  the  dark  profound. 
Not  without  cause,  he  passes.     So  'tis  will'd 
On  high,  there  where  the  great  Archangel  pour'd 
Heaven's  vengeance  on  the  first  adulterer  proud."* 

As  sails,  full  spread  and  bellying  with  the  wind. 
Drop  suddenly  collapsed,  if  the  mast  split ; 
So  to  the  ground  down  dropp'd  the  cruel  fiend. 


•  Ah  me!  O Satan.'  5'rt/(?«/— "Pape  Satan, Pape  S.itan, 
aleppe."  Pape  is  said  by  the  commentators  to  be  the  same 
as  the  Latin  word  puptt,  "  strange  !"  0(  aleppe  they  do 
not  give  a  more  satisfactory  account.  See  the  "  Life  of 
Benvcnuto  Cellini,"  translated  by  Dr.  Nugent,  v.  ii.,  b.  iii., 
c.  vii.,  p.  113,  where  he  mentions  "having  heard  the 
words  Paix,  paix,  Satan !  alUz,  paix!  in  the  courts  of 
justice  at  Paris.  I  recollected  what  Dante  said,  when  he 
with  his  m.aster  Virgii  entered  the  gates  of  hell :  for 
Dante,  and  Giotto  the  painter,  were  together  in  France, 
and  visited  Paris  with  particular  attention,  wlicre  the 
court  of  justice  m.iy  be  considered  as  heU.  Hence  it  is 
that   Dante,  who   was  likewise   perfect    master  of  the 


French,  made  use  of  that  expression  ;  and  I  have  often 
been  surprised  that  it  was  never  understood  in  that 
sense." 

'  The  first  adulterer  proitii.  —  Satan.  The  word 
"fornication,"  or  "adultery,"  "strupo,"  is  here  used  for 
a  revolt  of  the  affections  from  God,  according  to  the  sense 
in  which  it  is  often  applied  in  Scripture.  Dut  Monti, 
following  Gr.issi's  "  Essay  on  Synonymes,"  supposes 
"strupo"  to  mean  "troop;"  the  word  strup  being  still 
used  in  the  Piedmontese  dialect  for  "  a  flock  of  sheep," 
and  answering  to  troupeau  in  French.  In  that  case, 
"  superbo  strupo "  would  signify  "  the  troop  of  rebel 
angels  who  sinned  through  pride." 


I 


b 


c 
o 


X 


^ 

< 


16—47- 


HELL. 


;ANT0   VII. 


35 


Thus  we,  descending  to  the  fourth  steep  ledge, 
Gain'd  on  the  dismal  shore,  that  all  the  woe 
Hems  in  of  all  the  universe.     Ah  me  1 
Almighty  Justice !    in  what  store  thou  heap'st 
New  pains,  new  troubles,'  as  I  here  beheld. 
Wherefore  doth  fault  of  ours  bring  us  to  this? 

E'en  as  a  billow,^  on  Charybdis  rising, 
Against  encounter'd  billow  dashing  breaks ; 
Such  is  the  dance  this  wretched  race  must  lead, 
Whom  more  than  elsewhere  numerous  here  I  found 
From  one  side  and  the  other,  with  loud  voice, 
Both  roH'd  on  weights,  by  main  force  of  their  breasts, 
Then  smote  together,  and  each  one  forthwith 
Roll'd  them  back  voluble,  turning  again ; 
Exclaiming  these,  "  Why  holdest  thou  so  fast  ?" 
Those  answering,  "And  why  easiest  thou  away?" 
So,  still  repeating  tlicir  despiteful  song. 
They  to  the  opposite  point,  on  either  hand, 
Traversed  the  horrid  circle ;    then  arrived. 
Both  turn'd  them  round,  and  through  the  middle  space 
Conflicting  met  again.     At  sight  whereof 
I,  stung  with  grief,  thus  spake :    "  Oh,  say,  my  guide ! 
What  race  is  this.     Were  these,  whose  heads  are  shorn, 
On  our  left  hand,  all  separate  to  the  Church  ?" 

He  straight  replied  :    "  In  their  first  life,  these  all 
In  mind  were  so  distorted,  that  they  made, 
According  to  due  measure,  of  their  wealth 
No  use.     This  clearly  from  their  words  collect, 
Which  they  howl  forth,  at  each  extremity 
Arriving  of  the  circle,  where  their  crime 
Contrary  in  kind  disparts  them.     To  the  Church 
Were  separate  those,  that  with  no  hairy  cowls 


In  ivhat  store  thou  keap'st 
New  fains,  new  trouhles. — 
Some  understand  "  chi  stipa"  to  mean  either  "  who 
can  imagine,"  or  "who  can  describe  the  torments,"  i&c. 
I  have  followed  Landino,  whose  words,  thoiit;h  very 
plain,  seem  to  have  been  mistaken  by  Lombardi :  "  Chi 
stipa,  chi  accumula,  ed  insieme  raccoglie ;  quasi  dica,  tu 
giiuitizia  aduni  tanti  suppUciL" 


'  E'en  as  a  billow. — 

"  As  when  two  billows  in  the  Irish  sowndes, 
Forcibly  driven  with  contrarie  tides. 
Do  meet  together,  each  aback  rebounds 
With  roaring  rage,  and  dashing  on  all  sides, 
Tliat  fillcth  all  the  sea  with  foam,  divides 
The  doubtful  current  into  divers  wayes." 

Spenser,  Fairy  Queen,  b.  iv.,  c.  i..  st.  42. 


36 


THE    VISION. 

Are  crown'd,  both  popes  and  cardinals/  o'er  whom 
Avarice  dominion  absolute  maintains." 

I  then:   " 'Mid  such  as  these  some  needs  must  be, 
Whom  I  shall  recognise,  that  with  the  blot 
Of  these  foul  sins  were  stain'd."     He  answering  thus: 
"  Vain  thought  conceivest  thou.     That  ignoble  life, 
Which  made  them  vile  before,  now  makes  them  dark. 
And  to  all  knowledge  indiscernible. 
For  ever  they  shall  meet  in  this  rude  shock: 
These  from  the  tomb  with  clenched  grasp  shall  rise, 
Those  with  close-shaven  locks.     That  ill  they  gave, 
And  ill  they  kept,  hath  of  the  beauteous  world 
Deprived,  and  set  them  at  this  strife,  which  needs 
No  labour'd  phrase  of  mine  to  set  it  off. 
Now  mayst  thou  see,  my  son,  how  brief,  how  vain, 
The  goods  committed  into  Fortune's  hands. 
For  which  the  human  race  keep  such  a  coil  1 
Not  all  the  gold^  that  is  beneath  the  moon, 
Or  ever  hath  been,  of  these  toil-worn  souls 
Might  purchase  rest  for  one."     I  thus  rejoin'd: 
"  My  guide  I   of  thee  this  also  would  I  learn ; 
This  Fortune,  that  thou  speak'st  of,  what  it  is, 
Whose  talons  grasp  the  blessings  of  the  world.' 

He  thus  :    "  Oh,  beings  blind  I   what  ignorance 
Besets  you  I     Now  my  judgment  hear  and  mark. 
He,  whose  transcendent  wisdom^  passes  all, 
The  heavens  creating,  gave  them  ruling  powers 
To  guide  them ;   so  that  each  part  shines*  to  each. 
Their  light  in  equal  distribution  pour'd. 
By  similar  appointment  he  ordain'd, 
Over  the  world's  bright  images  to  rule, 


48—78. 


'  Popes   and   cardinals. — Ariosto   having  personified 
Avarice  as  a  strange  and  hideous  monster,  says  of  har— 
"  Peggio  facea  nella  Romana  corte, 
Che  v'avea  uccisi  cardinali  e  papi." 

Orlando  Furioso,  c.  xxvi.,  st  33. 

**  Worse  did  she  in  the  court  of  Rome,  for  there 
She  had  slain  popes  and  cardinals." 
Not  all  the  gold  — 

"  Tuito  Toro  ch'  e  sotto  la  luna." 


"  For  all  the  gode  under  the  colde  mone." 

Chancer,  Le^ende  of  Hypermntstra. 
•  He,  wtiQse  transcendent  -wisdom. — Compare  Frezji : 
"  Dio  h  primo  prince  in  ogni  parte 
Sempre  e  di  tutto,"  &c. 

//  Qiiadriregio,  lib.  ii.,  cap.  iL 
'  Each  part  shines. — Each  hemisphere  of  the  heavens 
shines  upon  that  hemisphere  of  the  earth  which  is  placed 
under  it. 


c 
o 
o 

o 

fc 

e 

X 

^ 

-4-1 

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r: 

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at 

r. 

o 

<u 

1) 

tr 

^-i 

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rt 

o 

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-n 

CJ 

c 

XI 

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dJ 

-s-: 

^-^ 

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rt 

> 

CI 

79^-108. 


HELL. 


;ANT0   VII. 


37 


♦. 


Superintendence  of  a  guiding  hand 

And  general  minister,^  which,  at  due  time. 

May  change  the  empty  vantages  of  life 

From  race  to  race;  from  one  to  other's  blood, 

Beyond  prevention  of  man's  wisest  care: 

Wherefore  one  nation  rises  into  sway, 

Another  languishes,  e'en  as  her  will 

Decrees,   from  us  conceal'd,  as  in  the  grass 

The  serpent  train.     Against  her  nought  avails 

Your  utmost  wisdom.     She  with  foresight  plans, 

Judges,  and  carries   on  her  reign,  as  theirs 

The  other  powers  divine.     Her  changes  know 

None  intermission,  by  necessity^ 

She  is  made  swift,  so  frequent  come  who  claim 

Succession  in  her  favours.      This  is  she, 

So  execrated  e'en  by  those  whose  debt 

To  her  is  rather  praise  :   they  wrongfully 

With  blame  requite  her,  and  with  evil  word; 

But  she  is  blessed,  and  for  that  recks  not  : 

Amidst  the  other  primal  beings  glad, 

Rolls  on  her  sphere,  and  in  her  bliss  exults. 

Now  on  our  way  pass  we,  to  heavier  woe 

Descending :   for  each  star^  is  falling  now, 

That  mounted  at  our  entrance,  and  forbids 

Too  long  our  tarrying."      We  the  circle  cross'd 

To  the  next  steep,  arriving  at  a  well. 

That  boiling  pours  itself  down  to  a  fosse 

Sluiced  from  its  source.      Far  murkier  was  the  wave 

Than  sablest  grain  :   and  we  in  company 

Of  the  inky  waters,  journeying  by  their  side. 


'  General  minister. — Lombard!  cites  an  apposite  pas- 
sage from  Augustine,  "  De  Civitate  Dei,"  lib.  v. : — "  Nos 
eas  causas,  qua:  dicuntur  fortuita:  (unde  etiam  fortuna 
nomen  accepit)  non  dicimus  nuUas,  sed  latentes,  easque 
tribuimus,  vel  veri  Dei,  vel  quorum  libet  spirituum 
voluntati." 

'  By  necessity. — This  sentiment  called  forth  the  repre- 
hension of  Francesco  Stabili,  commonly  called  Cecco 
d'  Ascoli,  in  his  "  Acerba,"  lib.  i.,  c.  i.  : 

"  In  cio  peccasti,  O  Fiorentin  poeta, 
Ponendo  che  li  ben  delia  fortuna 


Necessitati  sieno  con  lor  meta. 
Non  k  fortuna,  cui  ragion  non  vinca. 
Or  pensa  Dante,  se  prova  nessuna 
Si  puo  piu  fare  che  questa  convinca." 
"  Herein,  oh  bard  of  Florence,  didst  thou  err, 
Laying  it  down  that  fortune's  largesses 
Are  fated  to  their  goal.     Fortune  is  none, 
That  reason  cannot  conquer.     Mark  thou,  Dante, 
If  any  argument  may  gainsay  this." 
»  Each  stiir.— So  Boccaccio  :  "  Giu  ogni  Stella  a  cader 
comincio,  che  sulia."— Decameron,  Giorn.  3,  at  the  end. 


38 


THE   VISION. 


»0S>-»3*- 


Enter'd,  though  by  a  different  track,'  beneath. 
Into  a  lake,  the  Stygian  named,  expands 
.The  dismal  stream,  when  it  hath  reach'd  the  foot 
Of  the  grey  wither'd  cliffs.     Intent  I  stood 
To  gaze,  and  in  the  marish  sunk  descried 
A  miry  tribe,  all  naked,  and  with  looks 
Betokening  rage.      They  with  their  hands  alone 
Struck  not,  but  with  the  head,  the  breast,  the  feet, 
Cutting  each  other  piecemeal  with  their  fangs. 

The  good  instructor  spake :    "  Now  seest  thou,  son, 
The  souls  of  those  whom  anger  overcame. 
This  too  for  certain  know,  that  underneath 
The  water  dwells  a  multitude,  whose  sighs 
Into  these  bubbles  make  the  surface  heave, 
As  thine  eye  tells  thee  wheresoever  it  turn. 
Fix'd  in  the  slime,  they  say,  '  Sad  once  were  we. 
In  the  sweet  air  made  gladsome  by  the  sun. 
Carrying  a  foul  and  lazy  mist  within  : 
Now  in  these  murky  settlings  are  we  sad.' 
Such  dolorous  strain  they  gurgle  in  their  throats. 
But  word  distinct  can  utter  none."     Our  route 
Thus  compass'd  we,  a  segment  widely  stretch'd 
Between  the  dry  embankment,  and  the  core 
Of  the  loath'd  pool,  turning  meanwhile  our  eyes 
Downward  on  those  who  gulp'd  its  muddy  lees ; 
Nor  stopp'd,  till  to  a  tower's  low  base  we  came. 


'  A  different  track. — "  i/na  via  diversa."  Some  under- 
stand this  "a  strange  path  ;"  as  the  word  is  used  ir  the 
preceding  c:into — "fiera  crudele  e  diversia,"   "monster 


fierce  and  strange;"  and  in  the  "Vita  Nuova" — "  visi 
diversi  ed  orribili  a  vedere,"  ''visages  strange  and 
horrible  to  see." 


I 


V 

— 

B 

c 

rt 

o 

(J 

tli 

u 

u 

o 

> 

o 

o 

u 

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rt 

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A 

s 

1) 

in 

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«) 

CANTO    VIII. 


ARGUMENT, 

A  signal  having  been  made  from  the  tower,  Phlegyas,  the  ferryman  of  the  lake,  speedily  crosses  it,  and  conveys  Virgil 
and  ■  Dante  to  the  other  side.  On  their  passage  they  meet  with  Filippo  Argenti,  whose  fury  and  torment  are 
described.  They  then  arrive  at  the  city  of  Dis,  the  entrance  whereto  is  denied,  and  the  portals  closed  against 
them  by  many  demons. 

A /T  Y  theme  pursuing,^  I  relate,  that  ere 

We  reach'd  the  lofty  turret's  base,  our  eyes 
Its  height  ascended,  where  we  mark'd  uphung 
Two  cressets,  and  another  saw  from  far 
Return  the  signal,  so  remote,  that  scarce 
The  eye  could  catch  its  beam.      I,  turning  round 
To  the  deep  source  of  knowledge,  thus  inquired : 
"  Say  what  this  means ;   and  what,  that  other  light 
In  answer  set:   what  agency  doth  this?" 

"  There  on  the  filthy  waters,"  he  replied, 
*'  E'en  now  what  next  awaits  us  mayst  thou  see, 
If  the  marsh-gendered  fog  conceal  it  not." 

Never  was  arrow  from  the  cord  disraiss'd, 
That  ran  its  way  so  nimbly  through  the  air. 
As  a  small  barque,  that  through  the  waves  I  spied 
Toward  us  coming,  under  the  sole  sway 
Of  one  that  ferried  it,  who  cried  aloud, 
"Art  thou  arrived,  fell  spirit?" — "Phlegyas,  Phlegyas,* 


'  My  theme  pursuing. — It  is  related  by  some  of  the 
early  commentators,  that  the  seven  preceding  cantos  wcire 
found  at  Florence  after  our  poet's  banishment,  by  some 
one  who  was  searching  over  his  papers,  which  were 
left  in  that  city;  that  by  this  person  they  were  taken  to 
Dino  Frescobaldi  ;  and  that  he,  being  much  delighted 
with  them,  forwarded  them  to  the  Marchese  Morello 
Malaspina,  at  whose  entreaty  the  poem  was  resumed. 
This  account,  though  very  circumstantially  related,  is 
rendered  improbable  by  the  propliecy  of  Ciacco  in  the 
sixth  canto,  which  must  have  been  written  after  the  events 
to  which  it  alludes.    The  manner  in  which  the  present 


canto  opens  furnishes  no  proof  of  the  truth  of  the  report ; 
for,  as  Maffei  remarks  in  his  "  Osservazioni  Letterarie," 
torn,  ii.,  p.  249,  referred  to  by  Lombard!,  it  might  as  well 
be  affirmed  that  Ariosto  was  interrupted  in  his  "  Orlando 
Furioso,"  because  he  begins  c.  xvi. 

"  Dico  la  bella  storia  ripigliando," 
and  c.  xxii. 

"  Ma  tornando  al  lavor,  che  vario  ordisco." 

'  Phlegyas. — Phlegyas,   who  was  so  incensed  against 

Apollo,  for  having  violated  his  daughter  Coronis,  that  he 

set  fire  to  the  temple  of  that  deity,  by  whose  vengeance 

he  was  cast  into  Tartarus.  See  Virgil,  "iEneid,"  1.  vi.,  618. 


40 


THE   VISION. 


19-53. 


Tliis  time  thou  criest  in  vain,"  my  lord  replied ; 

"  No  longer  shalt  thou  have  us,  but  while  o'er 
.  The  slimy  pool  we  pass."     As  one  who  hears 

Of  some  great  wrong  he  hath  sustain'd,  whereat 

Inly  he  pines,  so  Phlegyas  inly  pined 

In  his  fierce  ire.      My  guide,  descending,  stepp'd 

Into  the  skiff,  and  bade  me  enter  next, 

Close  at  his  side ;   nor,  till  my  entrance,  seem'd 
The  vessel  freighted.      Soon  as  both  embark'd, 
Cutting  the  waves,  goes  on  the  ancient  prow, 

More  deeply  than  with  others  is  its  wont. 

While  we- our  course'  o'er  the  dead  channel  held. 
One  drench'd  in  mire  before  me  came,  and  said, 
"  Who  art  thou,  that  thus  comest  ere  thine  hour?" 

I  answer'd,  "  Though  I  come,  I  tarry  not : 
But  who  art  thou,  that  art  become  so  foul  ?" 

"  One,  as  thou  seest,  who  mourn,"  he  straight  replied. 
To  which  I  thus  :    "  In  mourning  and  in  woe. 
Curst  spirit!  tarry  thou.     I  know  thee  well. 
E'en  thus  in  filth  disguised."     Then  stretch'd  he  forth 
Hands  to  the  barque ;   whereof  my  teacher  sage 
Aware,  thrusting  him  back  :    "  Away  I    down  there 
To  the  other  dogs!"   then,  with  his  arms  my  neck 
Encircling,  kiss'd  my  cheek,  and  -jpake :   "Oh  soul, 
Justly  disdainful !   blest  was  she  in  whom 
Thou  wast  conceived.^     He  in  the  world  was  one 
For  arrogance  noted  :   to  his  memory 
No  virtue  lends  its  lustre ;   even  so 
Here  is  his  shadow  furious.     There  above, 
How  many  now  hold  themselves  mighty  kings, 
Who  here  like  swine  shall  wallow  in  the  mire, 
Leaving  behind  them  horrible  dispraise." 

I  then  :  ""  Master!   him  fain  would  I  behold 
Whelm'd  in  these  dregs,  before  we  quit  the  lake." 


'  JVMe  V*  our  fwe/r*.— "  Solcando  noi  per  quella 
morta  gora."—/'rez2i,  II  Qiiadriregio,  lib.  ii.,  cap.  7. 

'  In  whom  thou  wast  conceived. — "  Che  'n  te  s'incinse." 
Several  of  the  commentators  have  stumbled  at  this  word, 


which  is  the  same  as  enceinte  in  French,  and  inctent  in 
Latin.  For  many  instances  in  which  it  is  thus  used,  see 
the  notes  on  Boccaccio's  "  Decameron,"  y..  loi,  in  the 
Giunti  edition,  1573. 


^ 


o 


4-1      r-      « 


O       > 


/•  40. 


My  teacher  sage 
Aware,  thrusting  him  back  :  "  Away  !  down  there 
To  the  other  dogs!" 

Canto  VJJ/.,  lines  iff-^l. 


^ 


53— *4-  HELL.- — CANTO   VIIL 

He  thus :    "  Or  ever  to  thy  view  the  shore 
Be  offer'd,  satisfied  shall  be  that  wish, 
Which  well  deserves  completion."     Scarce  his  words 
Were  ended,  when  I  saw  the  miry  tribes 
Set  on  him  with  such  violence,  that  yet 
For  that  render  I  thanks  to  God,  and  praise. 
"To  Filippo  Argentil"^  cried  they  all: 
And  on  himself  the  moody  Florentine 
Turn'd  his  avenging  fangs.      Him  here  we  left, 
Nor  speak  I  of  him  more.      But  on  mine  ear 
Sudden  a  sound  of  lamentation  smote, 
Whereat  mine  eye  unbarr'd  I  sent  abroad. 

And  thus  the  good  instructor :    "  Now,  my  son 
Draws  near  the  city,  that  of  Dis  is  named,^ 
With  its  grave  denizens,  a  mighty  throng." 

I  thus:    "The  minarets  already,  sirl 
There,  certes,  in  the  valley  I  descry, 
Gleaming  vermilion,  as  if  they  from  fire 
Had  issued."     He  replied  :    "  Eternal  fire, 
That  inward  burns,  shows  them  with  ruddy  flame 
Illumed ;   as  in  this  nether  hell  thou  seest." 

We  came  within  the  fosses  deep,  that  moat 
This  region  comfortless.      The  walls  appear'd 
As  they  were  framed  of  iron.      We  had  made 
Wide  circuit,  ere  a  place  we  reach'd,  where  loud 
The  mariner  cried  vehement,  "  Go  forth : 
The  entrance  is  here."      Upon  the  gates  I  spied 
More  than  a  thousand,  who  of  old  from  heaven 
Were  shower'd.'    With  ireful  gestures,  "Who  is  this," 
They  cried,  "  that,  without  death  first  felt,  goes  through 
The  regions  of  the  dead  ?"     My  sapient  guide 
Made  sign  that  he  for  secret  parley  wish'd ; 


41 


•  Filippo  Argenti. — Boccaccio  tells  us,  "  He  was  a  man 
remarkable  for  the  large  proportions  and  extraordinary 
vigour  of  his  bodily  frame,  and  the  extreme  waywardness 
and  irascibility  of  his  temper." — Decameron,  Giom.  ix., 
Nov.  8. 

'  The  city,  that  of  Dis  is  named. — So  Ariosto,  "  Or- 
lando Furioso,"  c.  xl.,  st  32  : 


"  Fatto  era  un  stagno  piii  sicuro  e  brutto, 
Di  quel  che  cinge  la  citta  di  Dite." 

'  From  Iteaven  were  shower'd. — "  Da  ciel  piovuti." 
Thus  Frezzi  :  "  Li  maladetti  piovuti  da  cielo."— //  Qiiadri- 
regio,  lib.  iv.,  cap.  4.  And  Pulcl,  in  the  passage  cited  in 
the  note  to  canto  xxi.  117. 

G 


/ 


42 


THE   VISION. 


85-114. 


Whereat  their  angry  scorn  abating,  thus 

They  spake :   "  Come  thou  alone ;   and  let  him  go, 

Who  hath  so  hardily  enter'd  this  realm. 

Alone  return  he  by  his  witless  way; 

If  well  he  know  it,  let  him  prove.     For  thee, 

Here  shalt  thou  tarry,  who  through  clime  so  dark 

Hast  been  his  escort."      Now  bethink  thee,  reader! 

What  cheer  was  mine  at  sound  of  those  curst  words. 

I  did  believe  I  never  should  return. 

"Oh,  my  loved  guide  I   who  more  than  seven  times 
Security  hast  render'd  me,  and  drawn 
From  peril  deep,  whereto  I  stood  exposed, 
Desert  me  not."  I  cried,  "  in  this  extreme. 
And,  if  our  onward  going  be  denied. 
Together  trace  we  back  our  steps  with  speed." 

My  liege,  who  thither  had  conducted  me, 
Replied ;  "  Fear  not :  for  of  our  passage  none 
Hath  power  to  disappoint  us,  by  such  high 
Authority  permitted.     But  do  thou 
Expect  me  here ;   meanwhile,  thy  wearied  spirit 
Comfort,  and  feed  with  kindly  hope,  assured 
I  will  not  leave  thee  in  this  lower  world." 

This  said,  departs  the  sire  benevolent, 
And  quits  me.     Hesitating  I  remain 
At  war,  'twixt  will  and  will  not,''  in  my  thoughts, 

I  could  not  hear  what  terms  he  offer'd  them, 
But  they  conferr'd  not  long,  for  all  at  once 
PellmelP  rush'd  back  within.     Closed  were  the  gates, 
By  those  our  adversaries,  on  the  breast 
Of  my  liege  lord  :   excluded,  he  return'd 


'  Sevtn  times.— "The  commentators,"  says  Venturi, 
"  perplex  themselves  with  the  inquiry  what  seven  perils 
these  were  from  which  Dante  had  been  delivered  by 
Virgil.  Reckoning  the  beasts  in  the  first  canto  as  one  of 
them,  and  adding  Charon,  Minos,  Cerberus,  Plutus, 
Phlegyas,  and  Filippo  Argenti,  as  so  many  others,  we 
stall  have  the  number  ;  and  if  this  be  not  satisfactory, 
we  may  suppose  a  determinate  to  have  been  put  for  an 
indetermincite  number." 

*  At  war,  'twixt  will  and  will  not.—"  Che  si,  e  nd 


nel  capo  m.:  tenzona."     Thus  our  poet  in  his  eighth 
canzone : 

"  Ch'  il  si,  e'l  no  tututto  In  vostra  mano 
Ha  posto  amore." 
And  Boccaccio,  "Ninf.  Fiesol.,"  st.  233:  "II  si  e  il  nd 
ncl  capo  gli  contende."     The  words  I  have  adopted  are 
Shakespeare's,  "  Measure  for  Measure,''  Act  ii.,  sc.  i. 

*  Pellmell.—"  A  pruo\&."  "  Certatim."  "Al'envi.' 
I  had  before  translated  "  To  trial ;"  and  have  to  thank 
Mr.  Carlyle  for  detecting  the  error. 


I 


6 


o 
tn 
o 

V 
en 

E 

u 


2    tfl 


4->    -O 
C    -u 


c 
o 
u 


3- 

PQ 


115— 12& 


HELL.- 


:ANT0   VIII. 


43 


To  me  with  tardy  steps.     Upon  the  ground 
His  eyes  were  bent,  and  from  his  brow  erased 
All  confidence,  while  thus  in  sighs  he  spake : 
"Who  hath  denied  me  these  abodes  of  woe?" 
Then  thus  to  me :    "  That  I  am  a^iger'd,  think 
No  ground  of  terror :    in  this  trial  I 
Shall  vanquish,  use  what  arts  they  may  within 
For  hindrance.     This  their  insolence,  not  new,' 
Erewhile  at  gate  less  secret  they  display'd, 
Which  still  is  without  bolt;    upon'  its  arch 
Thou  saw'st  the  deadly  scroll  :   and  even  now, 
On  this  side  of  its  entrance,  down  the,  steep. 
Passing  the  circles,  unescorted,  conies 
One  whose  strong  might  can  open  us  this  land." 


'  This  their  insolence,  not  new. — Virgil  assures  our 
poet  that  these  evil  spirits  had  formerly  shown  the  same 
insolence  when  our  Saviour  descended  into  hell.  They 
attempted  to  prsvent  him  from  enteripf  at  the  gate,  over 


which  Dante  had  read  the  fatal  inscription — "that 
gate  which,"  says  the  Roman  poet,  "an  angel  had  just 
passed,  by  whose  aid  we  shall  overcome  this  opposition, 
and  gain  admittance  into  the  city," 


CANTO    IX. 


ARGUMENT. 

After  some  hindrances,  and  having  seen  the  hellish  furies  and  other  monsters,  the  poet,  by  the  help  of  an  angel,  enters 
the  city  of  Dis,  wherein  he  discovers  that  the  heretics  are  punished  in  tombs  burning  with  intense  rire :  and  he, 
tt^ether  with  Virgil,  passes  onwards  between  the  sepulchres  and  the  walls  of  the  city. 

nPHE  hue,'  which  coward  dread  on  my  pale  cheeks 

Imprinted  when  I  saw  my  guide  turn  back, 
Chased  that  from  his  which  newly  they  had  worn, 
And  inwardly  restrain'd  it.     He,  as  one 
Who  listens,  stood  attentive:   for  his  eye 
Not  far  could  lead  him  through  the  sable  air, 
And  the  thick-gathering  cloud.     "  It  yet  behoves 
We  win  this  fight;"  thus  he  began:    "if  not, 
Such  aid  to  us  is  offer'd. — Oh  I   how  long 
Me  seems  it,  ere  the  promised  help  arrive." 

I  noted,  how  the  sequel  of  his  words 
Cloked  their  beginning;    for  the  last  he  spake 
Agreed  not  with  the  first.     But  not  the  less 
My  fear  was  at  his  saying ;   sith  I  drew 
To  import  worse,  perchance,  than  that  he  held, 
His  mutilated  speech.     "  Doth  ever  any 
Into  this  rueful  concave's  extreme  depth 
Descend,  out  of  the  first  degree,  whose  pain 
Is  deprivation  merely  of  sweet  hope?" 

Thus  I  inquiring.     "Rarely,"  he  replied, 
"It  chances,  that  among  us  any  makes 
This  journey,  which  I  wend.     Erewhile,  'tis  true, 
Once  came  I  here  beneath,  conjured  by  fell 
Erictho,*^  sorceress,  who  compell'd  the  shades 


'  The  hue. — Virgil,  perceiving  that  Dante  was  pale 
with  fear,  restrained  those  outward  tokens  of  displeasure 
which  his  own  countenance  had  betrayed. 

*  Etictho. —  Erictho,  a  Thcssalian  sorceress,  according 


to  Lucan,  "  Pharsalia,"  L  vi.,  was  employed  by  Sextus,  son 
of  Ponipcy  the  Great,  to  conjure  up  a  spirit,  who  should 
inform  him  of  the  issue  of  the  civil  wars  between  his 
father  and  Ca:sar. 


A45- 


Mark  thou  each  dire  Erynnis. 

Canto  IX. ,  line  46. 


2S-54- 


HELL. — CANTO   IX. 


45 


Back  to  their  bodies.      No  long  space  my  flesh 

Was  naked  of  me/  when  within  these  walls 

She  made  me  enter,  to  draw  forth  a  spirit 

From  out  of  Judas'  circle.     Lowest  place 

Is  that  of  all,  obscurest,  and  removed 

Furthest  from  heaven's  all-circling  orb.      The  road 

Full  well  1  know :    thou  therefore  rest  secure. 

That  lake,  the  noisome  stench  exhaling,  round 

The  city  of  grief  encompasses,  which   now 

We  may  not  enter  without  rage."     Yet  more 

He  added  :    but  I  hold  it  not  in  mind. 

For  that  mine  eye  toward  the  lofty  tower 

Had  drawn  me  wholly,  to  its  burning  top; 

Where,  in  an  instant,  I  beheld  uprisen 

At  once  three  hellish  furies,  stain'd  with  blood: 

In  limb  and  motion  feminine  they  seem'd  ; 

Around  them  greenest  hydras  twisting  roll'd 

Their  volumes ;   adders  and  cerastes^  crept 

Instead  of  hair,  and  their  fierce  temples  bound. 

He,  knowing  well  the  miserable  hags 
Who  tend  the  queen  of  endless  woe,  thus  spake: 
"  Mark  thou  each  dire  Erynnis.      To  the  left, 
This  is  Megaira ;   on  the  right  hand,  she 
Who  wails,  Alccto ;   and  Tisiphone 
I'  th'  midst."     This  said,  in  silence  he  remain'd. 
Their  breast  they  each  one  clawing  tore;   themselves 
Smote  with  their  palms,  and  such  thrill  clamour  raised, 
That  to  the  bard  I  clung,  suspicion-bound. 
"Hasten  Medusa:  so  to  adamant 
Him  shall  we  change;"   all  looking  down  exclaim'd  : 


No  long  space  my  flesh 
Was  naked  of  me. 

"  Quae  corpus  complexa  animae  tarn  fortis  inane." — Ovid, 
Metamorphoses,  1.  xiii.,  fab.  2.  Dante  appears  to  have 
fallen  into  an  anachronism.  Virgil's  death  did  not  happen 
till  long  after  this  period.  But  Lombardi  shows,  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  other  commentators,  that  the  anachronism 
is  only  apparent.  Erictho  might  well  have  survived  the 
battle  of  Pharsalia  long  enough  to  be  employed  in  her 
magical  practices  at  the  time  of  Virgil's  decease. 


'  Adders  and  cerastes. — 

"  Vipereum  crinem  vittis  innexa  cruentis." 

Virgil,  /Eiieid,  1.  vi.  281. 
"  Spinaque  vagi  torquente  cerastae 
•  *  *  et  torrida  dipsas 

Et  gravis  in  geminum  vergens  caput  amphisbaena." 
Lucan,  Pharsalia,  I.  ix.  719. 
So  Milton  : 

"  Scorpion  and  asp,  and  amphisbaena  dire, 
Cerastes  horn'd,  hydrus  and  elops  drear, 
And  dipsas."  Paradise  Lost,  b.  x.  524 


46 


THE   VISION. 


55-83, 


"  E'en  when  by  Theseus'  might  assail'd,  we  took 
No  ill  revenge."     "Turn  thyself  round,  and  keep 
Thy  countenance  hid ;  for  if  the  Gorgon  dire 
Be  shown,  and  thou  shouldst  view  it,  thy  return 
Upwards  would  be  for  ever  lost.      This  said, 
Himself,  my  gentle  master,  turn'd  me  round ; 
Nor  trusted  he  my  hands,  but  with  his  own 
He  also  hid  me.     Ye  of  intellect 
Sound  and  entire,  mark  well  the  lore'  conceal'd 
Under  close  texture  of  the  mystic  strain. 

And  now  there  came  o'er  the  perturbed  waves 
Loud-crashing,  t-errible,  a  sound  that  made 
Either  shore  tremble,  as  if  of  a  wind* 
Impetuous,  from  conflicting  vapours  sprung, 
That  'gainst  some  forest  driving  all  his  might, 
Plucks  off  the  branches,  beats  them  down,  and  hurls 
Afar;^  then,  onward  passing,  proudly  sweeps 
His  whirlwind  rage,  while  beasts  and  shepherds  fly. 

Mine  eyes  he  loosed,  and  spake:  "And  now  direct 
Thy  visual  nerve  along  that  ancient  foam. 
There,  thickest  where  the  smoke  ascends."     As  frogs 
Before  their  foe  the  serpent,  through  the  wave 
Ply  swiftly  all,  till  at  the  ground  each  one 
Lies  on  a  heap ;  more  than  a  thousand  spirits 
Destroy 'd,  so  saw  I  fleeing  before  one 
Who  pass'd  with  unwet  feet  the  Stygian  sound. 
He,  from  his  face  removing  the  gross  air. 
Oft  his  left  hand  forth  stretch'd,  and  seera'd  alone 
By  that  annoyance  wearied.     I  perceived 


•  Th*  /or*.— The  poet  probably  intends  to  call  the 
reader's  attention  to  the  allegorical  and  mystic  sense  of 
the  present  canto,  and  not,  as  Venturi  supposes,  to  that 
of  the  whole  work.  Landino  supposes  this  liidden  mean- 
ing to  be,  that  in  the  case  of  those  vices  which  proceed 
irom  incontinence  and  intemperance,  reason,  which  is 
figured  under  the  person  of  Virgil,  with  the  ordinary 
grace  of  God,  may  be  a  sufficient  safeguard  ;  but  that  in 
the  instance  of  more  heinous  crimes,  such  as  those  we 
shall  hereafter  see  punished,  a  special  grace,  represented 
by  the  angel,  is  requisite  for  our  defence. 

'  A  wind. — Imitated  by  Berni : 
Com'  un  gruppo  di  vento  in  la  marina 


V  onde,  e  le  navi  sottosopra  caccia, 

Ed  in  terra  con  furia  repentina 

Gli  arbori  abbatte,  svegHc,  sfronda  e  straccia. 

Smarriti  fuggon  i  lavoratori 

E  per  le  selve  le  fiere  e'  pastori." 

Orlando  Initamorato,  lib.  i.,  c.  ii.,  st  6. 
'  Aftxr. — "  Porta  1  fiori,''  "carries  away  the  blossoms," 
is  the  common  reading.  "'  Porta  fuori,"  which  is  the 
right  reading,  adopted  by  Lombardi  in  his  edition  from 
the  Nidobeatina,  for  which  he  claims  it  exclusively,  I  h.id 
also  seen  in  Landino's  edition  of  1484,  and  adopted  from 
thence,  long  before  it  was  my  chance  to  meet  with  Lom- 
bardi. 


rt 

V 

u 

4> 

X 

o 

^ 

rt 
M 

■4-t 

O    T3 


84^111- 


HELL.- 


:anto  IX. 


47 


That  he  was  sent  from  heaven ;  and  to  my  guide 
Turn'd  me,  who  signal  made,  that  I  should  stand 
Quiet,  and  bend  to  him.     Ah  me!   how  full 
Of  noble  anger  seem'd  he.     To  the  gate 
He  came,  and  with  his  wand'  touch 'd  it,  whereat 
Open  without  impediment  it  flew. 

"Outcasts  of  heaven!     Oh,  abject  race,  and  scorn 'd!' 
P     Began  he,  on  the  horrid  grunsel  standing, 
"  Whence  doth  this  wild  excess  of  insolence 
Lodge  in  you?  wherefore  kick  you  'gainst  that  will 
Ne'er  frustrate  of  its  end,  and  which  so  oft 
Hath  laid  on  you  enforcement  of  your  pangs? 
What  profits,  at  the  fates  to  butt  the  horn? 
Your  Cerberus,^  if  ye  remember,  hence 
Bears  still,  peel'd  of  their  hair,  his  throat  and  maw.' 

This  said,  he  turn'd  back  o'er  the  filthy  way. 
And  syllable  to  us  spake  none ;  but  wore 
The  semblance  of  a  man  by  other  care 
Beset,  and  keenly  prest,  than  thought  of  him 
Who  in  his  presence  stands.     Then  we  our  steps 
Toward  that  territory  moved,  secure 
After  the  hallow'd  words.     We,  unopposed. 
There  enter'd ;  and,  my  mind  eager  to  learn 
What  state  a  fortress  like  to  that  might  hold, 
I,  soon  as  enter'd,  throw  mine  eye  around. 
And  see,  on  every  part,  wide-stretching  space, 
Replete  with  bitter  pain  and  torment  ill. 

As  where  Rhone  stagnates  on  the  plains  of  Aries,*'' 


•  mU  his  ward  — 

'  She  with  her  rod  did  softly  smite  the  raile, 
Which  straight  flew  ope." 

Spenser,  Faery  Queen,  b.  iv. ,  c.  iii.,  st.  46. 

*  Your  Cerberus. — Cerberus  is  feisned  to  have  been 
dragged  by  Hercules,  bound  with  a  threefold  chain,  of 
which,  says  the  angel,  he  still  bears  the  marks.  Lom- 
bardi  blames  the  other  interpreters  for  having  supposed 
that  the  angel  attributes  this  exploit  to  Hercules,  a  fabu- 
lous hero,  rather  than  to  our  Saviour.  It  would  seem  as 
if  the  good  father  had  forgotten  that  Ceiberus  is  himself 
no  less  a  creature  of  the  imagination  than  the  hero  who 
encountered  Itim. 


»  The  plains  of  Aries. — In   Provence.     See   Ariosto 
•'  Orlando  Furioso,"  c.  xxxix.,  St.  72  : 

"  Fu  da  ogni  parte  in  quest'  ultima  guerra 
(Benche  la  cosa  non  fu  ugual  divisa, 
Ch'  assai  piCi  andar  dei  Saracin  sotterra 
Per  man  di  Bradamante  e  di  Marfisa) 
Se  ne  vede  ancor  segno  in  quella  terra, 
Che  presso  ad  Arli,  ove  il  Rodano  stagna. 
Plena  di  sepolture  i  la  campagna." 

These  sepulchres  are  mentioned  in  the  "  Life  of  Charle- 
magne," which  goes  under  the  name  of  Archbishop  Tur- 
pin,  cap.  28  and  30,  and  by  Fazio  dcgli  Uberti,  "  Ditta- 
mondo,"  1.  iv.,  cap  xxi. 


48  THE    VISION;  112— 131. 

Or  as  at  Pola.J  near  Quarnaro's  gulf, 
That  closes  Italy  and  laves  her  bounds, 
The  place  is  all  thick  spread  with  sepulchres; 
■  So  was  it  here,  save  what  in  horror  here 

Excell'd  :  for  'midst  the  graves  were  scatter'd  flames, 
Wherewith  intensely  all  throughout  they  burn'd,* 
That  iron  for  no  craft  there  hotter  needs. 

Their  lids  all  hung  suspended  ;  and  beneath, 
From  them  forth  issued  lamentable  moans, 
Such  as  the  sad  and  tortured  well  might  raise. 

I  thus  :    "  Master  I   say  who  are  these,  interr'd 
Within  these  vaults,  of  whom  distinct  we  hear 
The  dolorous  sighs."     He  answer  thus  return'd : 
"  The  arch-heretics  are  here,  accompanied 
By  every  sect  their  followers ;   and  much  more, 
Than  thou  believest,  the  tombs  are  freighted:   like 
With  like  is  buried ;   and  the  monuments 
Arc  different  in  degrees  of  heat."     This  said, 
He  to  the  right  hand  turning,  on  we  pass'd 
Betwixt  the  afflicted  and  the  ramparts  high. 


*  -4/ /'<?/«.— A  city  of  Istria,  situated  near  ihe  Galf  of      1      Incantation     of    Hcrvor    (v.     "  Not  them    Antiquities," 
Quarnaro,  in  the  Adriatic  Sea.  vol  ii.)  the  spirit  of  Angantyr  lies  in  a  tomb  "  all  on 

*  They  burtCd. — Mr.    Darley  observes,    that    in  the  fire.'' 


p.4i- 


He  answer  thus  return'd  : 
"  The  arch-heretics  are  here,  accompanied 
By  every  sect  their  followers." 

Canio  IX.,  lines  124-126. 


CANTO    X. 


ARGUMENT. 

Dante,  having  obtained  permission  from  his  guide,  holds  discourse  with  Farinata  degli  Uberti  and  Cavalcante  Cavalcanti, 
who  lie  in  their  fiery  tombs  that  are  yet  open,  and  not  to  be  closed  up  till  after  the  last  judgment.  Farinata  predicts 
the  poet's  exile  from  Florence ;  and  shows  him  that  the  condemned  have  knowledge  of  future  things,  but  are 
ignorant  of  what  is  at  present  passing,  unless  it  be  revealed  by  some  new  comer  from  earth. 

XT  OW  by  a  secret  pathway  we  proceed, 

Between  the  walls,  that  hem  the  region  round, 
And  the  tormented  souls  :  my  master  first, 
I  close  behind  his  steps.      "Virtue  supreme  I" 
I  thus  began:   "who  through  these  ample  orb.s 
In  circuit  lead'st  me,  even  as  thou  will'st; 
Speak  thou,  and  satisfy  my  wish.     May  those, 
Who  lie  within  these  sepulchres,  be  seen? 
Already  all  the  lids  are  raised,  and  none 
O'er  them  keeps  watch."      He  thus  in  answer  spake : 
"They  shall  be  closed  all,  what  time  they  here 
From  Josaphat^  return'd  shall  come,  and  bring 
Their  bodies,  which  above  they  now  have  left. 
The  cemetery  on  this  part  obtain, 
With  Epicurus,  all  his  followers, 
Who  with  the  body  make  the  spirit  die. 
Here  therefore  satisfaction  shall  be  soon, 
Both  to  the  question  ask'd,  and  to  the  wish* 
Which  thou  conceal'st  in  silence."      I  replied: 
"  I  keep  not,  guide  beloved  1    from  thee  my  heart 
Secreted,  but  to  shun  vain  length  of  words ; 
A  lesson  erewhile  taught  me  by  thyself." 


'  yosaphat. — It  seems  to  have  been  a  common  opinion 
among  the  Jews,  as  well  as  among  many  Christians,  that 
the  general  judgment  will  be  held  in  the  valley  of 
Josaphat,  or  Jehoshaphat :  "  I  will  also  gather  all  nations, 
and  will  bring  them  down  into  the  valley  of  Jehoshaphat, 
and    will   plead  with   them  there   for  my  people  and 


for  my  heritage  Israel,  whom  they  have  scattered  among 
the  nations,  and  parted  my  land,"  Joel  iii.  2. 

'  The  wish.— The  wish,  that  Dante  had  not  expressed, 
was  to  see  and  converse  with  the  followers  of  Epicuius  ; 
among  whom,  we  shall  see,  were  Farinata  degli  Uberti 
and  Cavalcante  Cavalcanti. 

H 


50 


THE    VISION. 


33—52. 


"  O  Tuscan !   thou,  who  through  the  city  of  fire 
Alive  art  passing,  so  discreet  of  speech  : 
Here,  please  thee,  stay  awhile.     Thy  utterance 
Declares  the  place  of  thy  nativity 
To  be  that  noble  land,  with  which  perchance 
I  too  severely  dealt."     Sudden  that  sound 
Forth  issued  from  a  vault,  whereat,  in  fear, 
I  somewhat  closer  to  my  leader's  side 
Approaching,  he  thus  spake  :    "  What  dost  thou  ?    Turn  : 
Lol    Farinata'  there,  who  hath  himself 
Uplifted  :   from  his  girdle  upwards,  all 
Exposed,  behold  him."     On  his  face  was  mine 
Already  fix'd  :   his  breast  and  forehead  there 
Erecting,  seem'd  as  in  high  scorn  he  held 
E'en  hell.     Between  the  sepulchres,  to  him 
My  guide  thrust  me,  with  fearless  hands  and  prompt; 
This  warning  added:   "See  thy  words  be  clear." 

He,  soon  as  there  I  stood  at  the  tomb's  foot. 
Eyed  me  a  space ;   then  in  disdainful  mood 
Address'd  me :    "  Say  what  ancestors  were  thine." 

I,  willing  to  obey  him,  straight  reveal'd 
The  whole,  nor  kept  back  aught :   whence  he,  his  brow 
Somewhat  uplifting,  cried  :    "  Fiercely  were  they 
Adverse  to  me,  my  party,  and  the  blood 
From  whence  I  sprang :    twice,*  therefore,  I  abroad 
Scatter'd  them."     "Though  driven  out,  yet  they  each  time 
From  all  parts,"  answer'd  I,  "  return'd  ;   an  art 
Which  yours  have  shown  they  are  not  skill 'd  to  learn." 

Then,  peering  forth  from  the  unclosed  jaw, 
Rose  from  his  side  a  shade,^  high  as  the  chin. 


•  Farinata. — Farinata  degli  Uberti,  a  noble  Floren- 
tine, was  ihe  leader  of  the  Ghibelline  faction,  when  they 
obtained  a  signal  victory  over  the  Giielfi  at  Montaperto, 
near  the  river  Arbia.  Macchiavelli  calls  him  "a  man  of 
exalted  soul,  and  great  military  talents,"  "History  of 
Florence,"  b.  ii.  His  grandson,  Bonifacio,  or,  as  he  is 
commonly  called,  Fazio  degli  Uberti,  wrote  a  poem,  en- 
titled the  "  Dittamondo,"  in  imitation  of  Dante.  I  shall 
have  frequent  occasion  to  refer  to  it  throughout  these 


Notes.  At  the  conclusion  of  cap.  27,  L  ii.  he  makes 
mention  of  his  ancestor  Farinata.  See  Note  4  to  Life 
of  Dante. 

'  Twice.— The  first  time  in  1248,  when  they  were  driven 
out  by  Frederick  II.— see  G.  Villani,  lib.  vi.,  c.  xxxiv.  ; 
and  the  second  time  in  1260.     See  Note  to  v.  83. 

'  Rose  from  his  side  a  shade. — The  spirit  of  Caval- 
cante  Cavalcanti,  a  noble  Florentine,  of  the  Guelph 
party. 


/■  50. 


He,  soon  as  there  I  stood  at  the  tomb's  foot, 
Eyed  me  a  space  ;  then  in  a  disdainful  mood 
Address'd  me  :  "  Say  what  ancestors  were  thine." 

Canto  X  ,  iint's  40-42. 


53—72. 


HELL. — CANTO   X. 


51 


Leaning,  methought,  upon  its  knees  upraised. 

It  look'd  around,  as  eager  to  explore 

If  there  were  other  with  me ;  but  perceiving 

That  fond  imagination  quench'd,  with  tears 

Thus  spake :   "  If  thou  through  this  blind  prison  go'st, 

Led  by  thy  lofty  genius  and  profound, 

Where  is  my  son  P^   and  wherefore  not  with  thee  ?" 

I  straight  replied :    "  Not  of  myself  I  come ; 
By  him,  who  there  expects  me,  through  this  clime 
Conducted,  whom  perchance  Guido  thy  son 
Had  in  contempt."^     Already  had  his  words 
And  mode  of  punishment  read  me  his  name, 
Whence  I  so  fully  answer'd.     He  at  once 
Exclaim'd,  up  starting,  "How!    said'st  thou,  he  had?^ 
No  longer  lives  he?     Strikes  not  on  his  eye 
The  blessed  daylight?"      Then,  of  some  delay 
I  made  ere  my  reply,  aware,  down  fell 
Supine,  nor  after  forth  appear'd  he  more. 

Meanwhile  the  other,  great  of  soul,  near  whom 
I  yet  was  station'd,  changed  not  countenance  stern, 


'  My  son. — Guido,  the  son  of  Cavalcante  Cavalcanti ; 
"he  whom  I  call  the  first  of  my  friends,"  says  Dante  in 
his  "Vita  Nuova,"  where  the  commencement  of  their 
friendship  is  related.  From  the  character  given  of  him 
by  contemporary  writers,  his  temper  was  well  formed  to 
assimilate  with  that  of  our  poet.  "  He  was,"  according 
to  G.  Villani,  lib.  viii.,  c.  xli.,  "of  a  philosophical  and 
elegant  mind,  if  he  had  not  been  too  delicate  and  fas- 
tidious." And  Dino  Compagni  terms  him  "a  young  and 
noble  knight,  brave  and  courteous,  but  of  a  lofty,  scorn- 
ful spirit,  much  addicted  to  solitude  and  study,"  Mura- 
tori,  Rerum  Italicarum  Scriptores,  t.  9,  lib.  i.,  p.  481.  He 
died,  either  in  exile  at  Serrazana,  or  soon  after  his  return 
to  Florence,  December,  1300,  during  the  spring  of  which 
year  the  action  of  this  poem  is  supposed  to  be  passing. 

'  Guido  thy  son  had  in  contempt. — Guido  Calvacanti, 
being  more  given  to  philosophy  than  poetry,  was  perhaps 
no  great  admirer  of  Virgil.  Some  poetical  compositions 
by  Guido  are,  however,  still  extant  ;  and  his  reputation 
for  skill  in  the  art  was  such  as  to  eclipse  that  of  his  prede- 
cessor and  namesake,  Guido  Guinicelli.  His  "Canzone 
sopra  il  Terreno  Amore''  was  thought  worthy  of  being 
illustrated  by  numerous  and  ample  commentaries  ;  Cres- 
cimbeni,  "  Istoria  della  Volgar  Poesia,"  lib.  v.  Our 
author  addressed  him  in  a  playful  sonnet,  of  which  the 
following  spirited  translation  is  found  in  the  notes  to 
Hayley's  "  Essay  on  Epic  Poetry,"  ep.  iii.  : — 

"  Henry  !  I  wish  that  you,  and  Charles,  and  I, 

By  some  sweet  spell  within  a  barque  were  placed. 


A  gallant  barque  with  magic  virtue  graced, 
Swift  at  our  will  with  every  wind  to  fly  ; 

.So  that  no  changes  of  the  shifting  sky, 
No  stormy  terrors  of  the  watery  waste. 
Might  bar  our  course,  but  heighten  still  our  taste 
Of  sprightly  joy,  and  of  out  social  tie  :. 

Then  that  my  Lucy,  Lucy  fair  and  free, 

With  those  soft  nymphs,  on  whom  your  souls  are  bent, 
The  kind  magician  might  to  us  convey, 

To  talk  of  love  throughout  the  live-long  day  ; 
And  that  each  fair  might  be  as  well  content, 
As  I  in  truth  believe  our  hearts  would  be." 

The  two  friends,  here  called  Hcr.ry  and  Charles,  are,  in 
the  original,  Guido  and  Lapo,  concerning  the  latter  of 
whom  see  the  Life  of  Dante  prefixed  :  and  Lucy  is  Monna 
Bice.  A  more  literal  version  of  the  sonnet  may  be  found 
in  the  "  Canzoniere  of  Dante,  translated  by  Charles 
Lyell,  Esq.,"  8vo,  London,  1835,  p.  407. 

»  Said'st  thou,  he  had. — In  .^schylus  the  shade  of 
Darius  is  represented  as  inquiring  with  similar  anxiety 
aficr  the  fate  of  his  son  Xerxes  : — 

"'  Alossa.     MovaOrt  il  ZipKrivefiriitiiv  (paaiv oinroXXui' iura — 
Darius,   ndij  le  Irj  icai  ttoI  Tf\eiTfv;  iart  rif  a(iiTq(iia." 
HEI'SAI,  741,  Blomfield'sedit. 

"  Aiossa. — Xerxes  astonish'd,  desolate,  alone — 
Ghost  of  Dar.    How  will  this  end  ?     Nay,  pause  not. 
Is  he  safe?" 

The  Persians.     Potter's  Translation 


52 


THE   VISION. 


73-93. 


Nor  moved  the  neck,  nor  bent  his  ribbed  side. 

"And  if,"  continuing  the  first  discourse, 

*'They  in  this  art,"  he  cried,  "small  skill  have  shown; 

That  doth  torment  me  more  e'en  than  this  bed. 

But  not  yet  fifty  times*  shall  be  relumed 

Her  aspect,  who  reigns  here  queen  of  this  realm/ 

Ere  thou  shalt  know  the  full  weight  of  that  art. 

So  to  the  pleasant  world  mayst  thou  return,'^ 

As  thou  shalt  tell  me  why,  in  all  their  laws, 

Against  my  kin  this  people  is  so  fell." 

"  The  slaughter  +  and  great  havoc,"  I  replied, 
"That  colour'd' Arbia's  flood  with  crimson  stain- 
To  these  impute,  that  in  our  hallow'd  dome 
Such  orisons^  ascend."       Sighing  he  shook 
The  head,  then  thus  resumed  :    "  In  that  affray 
I  stood  not  singly,  nor,  without  just  cause. 
Assuredly,  should  with  the  rest  have  stirr'd  ; 
But  singly  there  I  stood,"  when,  by  consent 
Of  all,  Florence  had  to  the  ground  been  razed. 
The  one  who  openly  forbade  the  deed." 

"  So  may  thy  lineage'''  find  at  last  repose," 


'  Not  yet  fifty  times. — "  Not  fifty  •  months  shall  be 
passed,  before  thou  shalt  learn,  by  woful  experience,  the 
difficulty  of  returning  from  banishment  to  thy  native 
city." 

'  Queen  of  this  realm. — The  moon,  one  of  whose  titles 
in  heathen  mythology  was  Proserpine,  queen  of  the  shades 
below. 

•  So  to  the  pleasant  world  mayst  thou  return. — 

"  E  se  tu  mai  nel  dolce  mondo  reggi." 

Lombard!  would  construe  this :  "  And  if  thou  ever 
remain  in  the  plcas.int  world."  His  chief  reasons  for 
thus  departing  from  the  common  interpretation  are,  first, 
that  "  se  "  in  the  sense  of  '■  so  "  cannot  be  followed  by 
"mai,"  any  more  than  in  Latin  sic  can  be  followed  by 
unguam ;  and  next  that  "reggi  "  is  too  unlike  riedito  be 
put  for  it.  A  more  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  early 
Florentine  writers  would  have  taught  him  that  "  mai  "  is 
used  in  other  senses  than  those  whioh  unguam  appears  to 
have  had,  particularly  in  that  of  pur,  "  yet ;"  as  may  be 
seen  in  the  notes  to  the  "  Decameron^"  p.  43,  ed.  Giunti, 
'573  ;  and  that  the  old  writers  both  of  prose  and  verse 
changed  riedo  into  reggio,  as  o{  Jiedo  \.\i&f  ma.At  feggio, 
. "  Inf."  c.  XV.,  V.  39,  and  c.  xvii.,  v.  75.  See  page  98  of  the 
same  notes  to  the  "  Decameron,"  where  a  poet  before 
Dante's  time  is  said  to  have  translated  "  Redcunt  flores  " 
"  Reggiono  i  fieri." 

*  T/u  slaughter. — "  By  means  of  Farinata  degli  Uberti, 


the  Guelfi  were  conquered  by  the  army  of  King  Manfredi, 
near  the  river  Arbia,  with  so  great  a  slaughter,  that  those 
who  escaped  from  that  defeat  took  refuge,  not  in  Florence, 
which  city  they  considered  as  lost  to  them,  but  in  Lucca." 
—  Macchiavelli,  History  of  Flore>ice,h.  ii.,  and  G.  Villani, 
lib.  vi.,  c.  Ixxx.  and  Ixxxi. 

'  Such  orisons.— TXris  appears  to  allude  to  certain 
prayers  which  were  offered  up  in  the  churches  of  Flo- 
rence, for  deliverance  from  the  hostile  attempts  of  the 
Uberti :  or,  it  may  be,  that  the  public  councils  being  held 
in  churches,  the  speeches  delivered  in  them  against  the 
Uberti  are  termed  "  orisons,"  or  prayers. 

'  Singly  there  I  stood. — Guido  Novello  assembled  a 
council  of  the  Ghibellini  at  Empoli  ;  where  it  was  agieed 
by  all,  that,  in  order  to  maintain  the  ascendancy  of  the 
Ghibelline  party  in  Tuscany,  it  was  necessary  to  destroy 
Florence,  which  could  serve  only  (the  people  of  that  city 
being  Guelfi)  to  enable  the  party  attached  to  the  Church 
to  recover  its  strength.  This  cruel  sentence,  passed  upon 
so  noble  a  city,  met  with  no  opposition  from  any  of  its 
citizens  or  friends,  except  Farinata  degli  Uberti,  who 
openly  and  without  reserve  forbade  the  measure  ;  affirm- 
ing, that  he  had  endured  so  many  hardships,  and  encoun- 
tered so  many  dangers,  with  no  other  view  than  that  of 
being  able  to  pass  his  days  in  his  own  country. — Macchia- 
vein.  History  of  Florence,  b.  ii. 

'  So  may  thy  lineage. — "  Deh  se  riposi  mai  vostra  se- 
menza."     Here  Lombardi  is  again  mistaken,  as  at  v.  So, 


94— "I- 


HELL. — CANTO   X. 


53 


I  thus  adjured  him,  "as  thou  solve  this  knot, 
Which  now  involves  my  mind.       If  right  I  hear  • 
Ye  seem  to  view  beforehand  that  which  time 
Leads  with  him,  of  the  present  uninform'd." 

"  We  view,i  as  one  who  hath  an  evil  sight," 
He  answer'd,  "  plainly,  objects  far  remote ; 
So  much  of  his  large  splendour  yet  imparts 
The  Almighty  Ruler:   but  when  they  approach, 
Or  actually  exist,  our  intellect 
Then  wholly  fails  ;   nor  of  your  human  state, 
Except  what  others  bring  us,  know  we  aught. 
Hence  therefore  mayst  thou  understand,  that  all 
Our  knowledge  in  that  instant  shall  expire, 
VVhen  on  futurity  the  portals  close." 

Then  conscious  of  my  fault,^  and  by  remorse 
Smitten,  I  added  thus  :    "  Now  shalt  thou  say 
To  him  there  fallen,  that  his  offspring  still 
Is  to  the  living  join'd  ;   and  bid  him  know, 
That  if  from  answer,  silent,  I  abstain'd, 
Twas  that  my  thought  was  occupied,  intent 
Upon  that  error,  which  thy  help  hath  solved. ' 

But  now  my  master  summoning  me  back 
I  heard,  and  with  more  eager  haste  besought 
The  spirit  to  inform  me,  who  with  him 
Partook  his  lot.       He  answer  thus  return 'd  : 
"  More  than  a  thousand  with  me  here  are  laid. 
Within  is  Frederick,^  second  of  that  name, 
And  the  Lord  Cardinal  ;*  and  of  the  rest 


above.  Let  me  take  this  occasion  to  apprise  the  reader  of 
Itah'an  poetry,  that  one  not  well  versed  in  it  is  very  apt 
to  misapprehend  the  word  "se,"as  I  think  Cowper  hac 
done  in  translating  Milton's  Italian  verses.  A  good  in- 
stance of  the  different  meanings  in  which  it  is  used  is 
afforded  in  the  following  lines  by  Bernardo  Capello  : — 

'*  E  tu,  che  dolcemente  i  fiori  e  1'  erba 
Con  lieve  corso  mormorando  bagni, 
Tranquillo  fiume  di  vaghczza  pieno  ; 
Se  '1  cielo  al  mar  si  chiaro  t'  accompagni ; 
Se  punto  di  pietade  in  te  si  serba  : 
Le  mie  lagrime  accogli  entro  al  tuo  sena" 

Here  the  first  "  se"  signifies  "so,"  and  the  second  "i£" 


'  We  view. — "  The  departed  spirits  know  things  past 
and  to  come  ;  yet  are  ignorant  of  things  present.  Aga- 
memnon foretells  what  should  happen  unto  Ulysses,  yet 
ignorantly  inquires  what  is  become  of  his  own  son." — 
Drown  on  Urne  Burial,  ch.  iv. 

'  My  fault. — Dante  felt  remorse  for  not  having  returned 
an  immediate  answer  to  the  inquiry  of  Cavalcante,  from 
which  delay  he  was  led  to  believe  that  his  son  Guido  was 
no  longer  living. 

•  Frederick. — The  Emperor  Frederick  H.,  who  died  in 
1250.     See  Notes  to  canto  xiii. 

*  The  Lord  Cardinal. — Ottaviano  Ubaldini,  a  Floren- 
tine, made  cardinal  in  1245,  and  deceased  about  1273. 
On  account  of  his  great  influence,  he  was  generally  known 


54 


THE   VISION. 


112— 138. 


I  speak  not."      He,  this  said,  from  sight  withdrew. 

But  I  my  steps  toward  the  ancient  bard 

Reverting,  ruminated  on  the  words 

Betokening  me  such  ill.     Onward  he  moved, 

And  thus,  in  going,  question'd  :   "  Whence  the  amaze 

That  holds  thy  senses  wrapt?"      I  satisfied 

The  inquiry,  and  the  sage  enjoin'd  me  straight : 

"  Let  thy  safe  memory  store  what  thou  hast  heard 

To  thee  importing  harm  ;    and  note  thou  this," 

With  his  raised  finger  bidding  me  take  heed, 

"  When  thou  shalt  stand  before  her  gracious  beam/ 

Whose  bright  eye  all  surveys,  she  of  thy  life 

The  future  tenour  will  to  thee  unfold." 

Forthwith  he  to  the  left  hand  turn'd  his  feet : 
We  left  the  wall,  and  towards  the  middle  space 
Went  by  a  path  that  to  a  valley  strikes, 
Which  e'en  thus  high  exhaled  its  noisome  steam. 


by  the  appellation  of  "  the  Cardinal."  It  is  reported  of 
him,  that  he  declared,  if  there  were  any  such  thing  as  a 
human  soul,  he  had  lost  his  for  the  Ghibellini.  "  I  know 
not,''  says  Tiraboschi,  "  whether  it  is  on  sufficient  grounds 
that  Crescimbeni  numbers  among  the  poets  of  this  age 
the  Cardinal  Uttaviana  or  Ottaviano  degli  Ubaldini,  a 
Florentine,  archdeacon  and  procurator  of  the  church  of 
Bologna,  afterwr.rJs  made  card-nal  by  Innocent  IV.  in 


1245,  and  employed  in  the  most  important  public  affairs, 
wherein,  however,  he  showed  himself,  more  than  became 
his  character,  a  favourer  of  the  Ghibellines.  He  died, 
not  in  the  year  1272,  as  Ciaconio  and  other  writers  have 
reported,  but  at  soonest  after  the  July  of  1273,  at  which 
time  he  was  in  Mugello  with  Pope  Gregory  X." — Tira- 
boschi, Delia  Poes.  It,  Mr.  Mathia:^  cdit^  t  i.,  p.  140. 
'  Her  gracious  beam. — Beatrice 


/■  55- 


From  the  profound  abyss,  behind  the  lid 
Of  a  great  monument  we  stood  retired. 

Canto  XI.,  lints  6,  7. 


CANTO     XI. 

ARGUMENT. 

Dante  arrives  at  the  verge  of  a  rocky  precipice  which  encloses  the  seventh  circle,  where  he  sees  the  sepulchre  of 
Anastasius  the  heretic ;  behind  the  lid  of  which  pausing  a  little,  to  make  himself  capable  by  degrees  of  enduring 
the  fetid  smell  that  steamed  upward  from  the  abyss,  he  is  instructed  by  Virgil  concerning  the  manner  in  which 
the  three  following  circles  are  disposed,  and  what  description  of  sinners  is  punished  in  each.  He  then  inquires 
the  reason  why  the  carnal,  the  gluttonous,  the  avaricious  and  prodigal,  the  wrathful  and  gloomy,  suffer  not  their 
punishments  within  the  city  of  Dis.  He  next  asks  how  the  crime  of  usury  is  an  offence  against  God  ;  and  at 
length  the  two  poets  go  towards  the  place  from  whence  a  passage  leads  down  to  the  seventh  circle. 

T  T  PON  the  utmost  verge  of  a  high  bank, 

By  craggy  rocks  environ'd  round,  we  came, 
Where  v\:oes  beneath,  more  cruel  yet,  were  stow'd : 
And  here,  to  shun  the  horrible  excess 
Of  fetid  exhalation  upward  cast 
From  the  profound  abyss,  behind  the  lid 
Of  a  great  monument  we  stood  retired. 
Whereon  this  scroll  I  mark'd  :    "I  have  in  charge" 
Pope  Anastasius,^  whom  Photinus  drew 
From  the  right  path." — "  Ere  our  descent,  behoves 
We  make  delay,  that  somewhat  first  the  sense, 
To  the  dire  breath  accustom'd,  afterward 
Regard  it  not."      My  master  thus ;   to  whom 
Answering  I  spake :    "  Some  compensation  find, 
That  the  time  pass  not  wholly  lost."      He  then : 
*'  Lo  I    how  my  thoughts  e'en  to  thy  wishes  tend. 
My  son,^  within  these  rocks,"  he  thus  began, 
"  Are  three  close  circles  in  gradation  placed. 
As  these  which  now  thou  leavest.      Each  one  is  full 


•  Pope  Anastasius. — The  commentators  are  not  agreed 
concerning  the  person  who  is  here  mentioned  as  a  follower 
of  the  heretical  Photinus.  By  some  he  is  supposed  to 
have  been  Anastasius  11. ;  by  others,  the  fourth  of  that 
name ;  while  a  third  set  contend  that  our  poet  has  con- 
founded him  with  Anastasius  I.,  Emperor  of  the  East 


"  Anastasio  papa  in  quel  tempo  era, 
Di  Fotin  vago  a  mal  grade  de  sui." 

DittamondOy  1.  ii.,  cap.  xiv. 

'  My  son. — The  remainder  of  the  present  canto  may 
be  considered  as  a  syllabus  of  the  whole  of  this  part  ot 


Fazio  degli  Uberti,  like  our  author,  makes  him  a  pope  :  the  poem. 


56 


THE   VISION. 


20— 52. 


Of  spirits  accurst ;  but  that  the  sight  alone 
Hereafter  may  suffice  thee,  listen  how 
■And  for  what  cause  in  durance  they  abide. 

"  Of  all  malicious  act  abhorr'd  in  heaven, 
The  end  is  injury ;   and  all  such  end 
Either  by  force  or  fraud  ^  works  other's  woe. 
But  fraud,  because  of  man  peculiar  evil. 
To  God  is  more  displeasing ;   and  beneath, 
The  fraudulent  are  therefore  doom'd  to  endure 
Severer  pang.      The  violent  occupy 
All  the  first  circle ;   and  because,  to  force. 
Three  persons  are  obnoxious,  in  three  rounds, 
Each  within  other  separate,  is  it  framed. 
To  God,  his  neighbour,  and  himself,  by  man 
Force  may  be  offer'd  ;   to  himself  I  say. 
And  his  possessions,  as  thou  soon  shalt  hear 
At  full.      Death,  violent  death,  and  painful  wounds 
Upon  his  neighbour  he  inflicts;   and  wastes, 
By  devastation,  pillage,  and  the  flames, 
His  substance.      Slayers,  and  each  one  that  smites 
In  malice,  plunderers,  and  all  robbers,  hence 
The  torment  undergo  of  the  first  round. 
In  different  herds.      Man  can  do  violence 
To  himself  and  his  own  blessings:   and  for  this. 
He  in  the  second  round  must  aye  deplore 
With  unavailing  penitence  his  crime. 
Whoe'er  deprives  himself  of  life  and  light, 
In  reckless  lavishment  his  talent  wastes, 
And  sorrows'*  there  where  he  should  dwell  in  joy. 
To  God  may  force  be  offer'd,  in  the  heart 
Denying  and  blaspheming  his  high  power. 
And  Nature  with  her  kindly  law  contemning. 
And  thence  the  inmost  round  marks  with  its  seal 


'  Either  by  force  or  fraud.— '^  Cum  autem  duobus 
modis,  id  est,  aut  vi,  aut  fraude,  fiat  injuria  .  .  .  utrumque 
homini  alicnissimum  ;  sed  fraus  o  lio  digna  majore." — Cic. 
de  Off.,  lib.  i.,  c.  xiii. 

•  And  sorrows. — This  fine  moral,  that  not  to  enjoy  our 


being  is  to  be  ungrateful  to  the  Author  of  it,  is  well  ex- 
pressed in  Spenser,  "  Faery  Queen,"  b.  iv.,  c.  viii.,  St.  15 : — 
"  For  he  whose  daies  in  wilful  woe  are  worne, 
The  grace  of  his  Creator  doth  despise, 
That  will  not  use  his  gifts  for  thankless  nigardise." 


|3-«5  HRLL. — CANTO  XI.  ey 

Sodom,  and  Cahors,^  and  all  such  as  speak 
Contemptuously  of  the  Godhead  in  their  hearts, 

"  Fraud,  that  in  every  conscience  leaves  a  sting, 
May  be  by  man  employ 'd  on  one,  whose  trust 
He  wins,  or  on  another  who  withholds 
Strict  confidence.      Seems  as  the  latter  way 
Broke  but  the  bond  of  love  which  Nature  makes. 
^      Whence  in  the  second  circle  have  their  nest, 
Dissimulation,  witchcraft,  flatteries, 
Theft,  falsehood,  simony,  all  who  seduce 
To  lust,  or  set  their  honesty  at  pawn, 
With  such  vile  scum  as  these.      The  other  way 
Forgets  both  Nature's  general  love,  and  that 
Which  thereto  added  afterward  gives  birth 
To  special  faith.       Whence  in  the  lesser  circle, 
Point  of  the  universe,  dread  seat  of  Dis, 
The  traitor  is  eternally  consumed." 

I  thus :    "  Instructor,  clearly  thy  discourse 
Proceeds,  distinguishing  the  hideous  chasm 
And  its  inhabitants  with  skill  exact. 
But  tell  me  this :   they  of  the  dull,  fat  pool, 
Whom  the  rain  beats,  or  whom  the  tempest  drives. 
Or  who  with  tongues  so  fierce  conflicting  meet, 
Wherefore  within  the  city  fire-illumed 
Are  not  these  punish'd,  if  God's  wrath  be  on  them? 
And  if  it  be  not,  wherefore  in  such  guise 
Are  they  condemn'd  ?"       He  answer  thus  return'd: 
"  Wherefore  in  dotage  wanders  thus  thy  mind, 
Not  so  accustom'd  ?   or  what  other  thoughts 
Possess  it?      Dwell  not  in  thy  memory 
The  words,  wherein  thy  ethic  page^  describes 
Three  dispositions  adverse  to  Heaven's  will, 
Incontinence,  malice,  and  mad  brutishness, 


'  Cahors. — A  city  of  Guienne,  much  frequented  by 
usurers. 

'  Thy  ethic  page. — He  refers  to  Aristotle's  Ethics : 
"  Mera  ii  ravra  XexTeov^  oAAi/v  Troitjtxa^evovQ  apx^t^t  on 
rwv    iKiH   ri    ifii)   ^avKTitv    rpia   cirriveidi),   xatla,    atQaaia, 


3i)piori)c." — Ethic  Nicotnach.,  lib.  vii.,  c.  I.    "  fn  the  next 

place,  entering  on  another  division  of  the  subject,  let  it 
be  defined,  that  respecting  morals  there  are  three  sorts  of 
things  to  be  avoided — malice,  incontinence,  and  brutish- 
ness." 

I 


58  THE   VISION.  86-115. 

And  how  incontinence  the  least  offends 
God,  and  least  guilt  incurs  ?      If  well  thou  note 
This  judgment,  and  remember  who  they  are, 
Without  these  walls  to  vain  repentance  doom'd, 
Thou  shalt  discern  why  they  apart  are  placed 
From  these  fell  spirits,  and  less  wreakful  pours 
Justice  divine  on  them  its  vengeance  down," 

"  Oh,  sun !   who  healest  all  imperfect  sight, 
Thou  so  content'st  me,  when  thou  solvest  my  doubt, 
That  ignorance  not  less  than  knowledge  charms. 
Yet  somewhat  turn  thee  back,"  I  in  these  words 
Continued,  "  where  thou  said'st,  that  usury 
Offends  celestial  Goodness ; '  and  this  knot 
Perplex'd  unravel."      He  thus  made  reply: 
"  Philosophy,  to  an  attentive  ear, 
Clearly  points  out,  not  in  one  part  alone, 
How  imitative  Nature  takes  her  course 
From  the  celestial  mind,  and  from  its  art : 
And  where  her  laws^  the  Stagirite  unfolds. 
Not  many  leaves  scann'd  o'er,  observing  well 
Thou  shalt  discover,  that  your  art  on  her 
Obsequious  follows,  as  the  learner  treads 
In  his  instructor's  step  ;    so  that  your  art 
Deserves  the  name  of  second  in  descent* 
From  God.      These  two,  if  thou  recall  to  mind 
Creation's  holy  book,^  from  the  beginning 
Were  the  right  source  of  life  and  excellence 
To  human  kind.      But  in  another  path 
The  usurer  walks  ;  and  Nature  in  herself 
And  in  her  follower  thus  he  sets  at  nought, 


' /fgr  iaws.— Aristotle's  Physics.    ""H  rixvn  h'/^^'-"^      \         '  Seconti in  descent.— 
n)v  ^vaivr— Aristotle,  ♦VX.  AK.P.,  lib.  ii.,  c.   2.      "  Art      1  '  Si  che  vostr*  arte  a  Dio  quasi  «  nipote 

imitates    Nature."      See    the    "  Coltivazione"    of  Ala-      '      So  Frezzi : 
manni,  lib.  L 

"  L'arte  umana 

Altro  non  d  da  dir  ch'  un  dolce  sprone, 

Un  corrcger  soave,  un  pio  sostegno, 

Uno  esperto  imitar,  comporre  accorto 

Un  sollecito  attar  con  studio  e'ngegno 

La  cagion  natural,  i'  eflietto,  e  1'  opra." 


"  Giustizia  fu  da  cielo,  e  di  Dio  e  figlia, 
E  ogni  bona  legge  a  Dio  e  nipote." 

//  Quadriregio,  lib.  iv.,  cap.  2. 
•  Creation's  holy  book. — Gen.  ii.  15  :  "And  the  Lord 
God  took  the  man,  and  put  him  into  the  garden  of  Eden 
to  dress  it  and  to  keep  it."     And  Gen.  iii.   19  :  "  In  the 
sweat  of  thy  face  shalt  thou  eat  bread." 


H6-I2I.  HELL. CANTO    XI.  59 

Placing  elsewhere  his  hope.'     But  follow  now 
My  steps  on  fonvard  journey  bent ;    for  now 
The  Pisces  play  with  undulating  glance 
Along  the  horizon,  and  the  Wain^  lies  all 
O'er  the  north-west ;  and  onward  there  a  space 
Is  our  steep  passage  down  the  rocky  height." 


'  Placing  elsuvhere  his  hope. — The  usurer,  trusting  in 
the  produce  of  his  wealth,  lent  out  on  usury,  despises 
Nature  directly,  because  he  does  not  avail  himself  of  her 
means  for  maintaining  or  enriching  himself;  and  indi- 


rectly, because  he  does  not  avail  himself  of  the  means 
which  Art,  the  follower  and   imitator  of  Nature,   would 
afford  him  for  the  same  purposes. 
'  IVain. — The  constellation  Bootes,  or  Charles's  Wain. 


CANTO     XII. 


ARGUMENT. 

Descending  by  a  very  rugged  way  into  the  seventh  circle,  where  the  violent  are  punished,  Dante  end  his  leader  find 
it  guarded  by  the  Minotaur;  whose  fury  being  pacified  by  Virgil,  they  step  downwards  frcm  crag  to  crag;  till, 
drawing  near  the  bottom,  they  descry  a  river  of  blood,  wherein  are  tormented  such  as  have  committed  violence 
against  their  neighbour.  At  these,  when  they  strive  to  emerge  from  thj6  blood,  a  troop  of  Centaurs,  running 
along  the  side  of  the  river,  aim  their  arrows  ;  and  three  of  their  band  opposing  our  travellers  at  the  foot  of 
the  steep,  Virgil  prevails  so  far,  that  one  consents  to  carry  them  both  across  the  stream ;  and  on  their  passage 
Dante  is  informed  by  him  of  the  course  of  the  river,  and  of  those  that  are  punished  therein. 


nPHE    place,  where  to  descend  the  precipice 

-^       We  came,  was  rough  as  Alp ;    and  on  its  verge 
Such  object  lay,  as  every  eye  would  shun. 
As  is  that  ruin,  which  Adice's  stream^ 
On  this  side  Trento  struck,  shouldering  the  wave, 
Or  loosed  by  earthquake  or  for  lack  of  prop ; 
For  from  the  mountain's  summit,  whence  it  moved 
To  the  low  level,  so  the  headlong  rock 
Is  shiver'd,  that  some  passage*^  it  might  give 
To  him  who  from  above  would  pass  ;  e'en  such 
Into  the  chasm  was  that  descent :    and  there 
At  point  of  the  disparted  ridge  lay  stretch'd 
The  infamy  of  Crete,^  detested  brood 
Of  the  feign 'd  heifer  :*  and  at  sight  of  us 
It  gnaw'd  itself,  as  one  with  rage  distract. 
To  him  my  guide  exclaim'd  :    "  Perchance  thou  deem*st 
The  King  of  Athens*  here,  who,  in  the  world 


'  Adieus  stream. — After  a  great  deal  having  been  said 
on  the  subject,  it  still  appears  very  uncertain  at  what  part 
of  the  river  this  fall  of  the  mountain  happened. 

'  Some  passage. — Lombardi  erroneously,  I  think,  under- 
stands by  "alcuna  via"  "no  passage;"  in  which  sense 
"alcuno"  is  certainly  sometimes  used  by  some  old  writers. 
Monti,  as  usual,  agrees  with  Lombardi.  See  Note  to 
C  iii.,  V.  4a 

*  The  infamy  of  Crete. — The  Minotaur. 


*  The  feigned  heifer. — Pasiphag. 

'  The  King  of  Athens. — Theseus,  who  was  enabled  by 
the  instruction  of  Ariadne,  the  sister  of  the  Minotaur,  to 
destroy  that  monster.  "  Duca  d'Atene."  So  Chaucer  calls 
Theseus  ; 

"  Whilom,  as  olde  stories  tellen  us, 
There  was  a  duk,  that  higlite  Th-iseus." 

The  Knight/s  Tale. 
And  Shakespeare: 


p.  60. 


And  there 
At  point  of  the  disparted  ridge  lay  stretch'd 
The  infamy  of  Crete,  detested  brood 
Of  the  feign'd  heifer. 

Canto  X/I.,  lines  II-14. 


i8- 


HELL. — CANTO    XII. 


6i 


Above,  thy  death  contrived.      Monster  I    avaunt  I 
He  comes  not  tutor'd  by  thy  sister's  art,^ 
But  to  behold  your  torments  is  he  come." 

Like  to  a  bull,^  that  with  impetuous  spring 
Darts,  at  the  moment  when  the  fatal  blow 
Hath  struck  him,  but  unable  to  proceed 
Plunges  on  either  side ;    so  saw  I  plunge 
The  Minotaur ;    whereat  the  sage  exclaim'd : 
"  Run  to  the  passage  1  while  he  storms,  'tis  well 
That  thou  descend."     Thus  down  our  road  we  took 
Through  those  dilapidated  crags,  that  oft 
Moved  underneath  my  feet,  to  weight^  like  theirs 
Unused.      I  pondering  went,  and  thus  he  spake : 
"  Perhaps  thy  thoughts  are  of  this  ruin'd  steep, 
Guarded  by  the  brute  violence,  which  I 
Have  vanquish 'd  now.     Know  then,  that  when  I  erst 
Hither  descended  to  the  nether  hell. 
This  rock  was  not  yet  fallen.      But  past  doubt, 
(If  well  I  mark)  not  long  ere  He  arrived,* 
Who  carried  off  from  Dis  the  mighty  spoil 
Of  the  highest  circle,  then  through  all  its  bounds 
Such  trembling  seized  the  deep  concave  and  foul, 
I  thought  the  universe  was  thrill'd  with  love. 
Whereby,  there  are  who  deem,  the  world  hath  oft 
Been  into  chaos  turn'd  :^    and  in  that  point, 
Here,  and  elsewhere,  that  old  rock  toppled  down. 
But  fix  thine  eyes  beneath  :   the  river  of  blood* 


"  Happy  be  Theseus,  our  renowned  Duke." 

Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  Act  i.,  sc.  I. 
"This  is  in  reality,"  observes  Mr.  Douce,  "no  mifap- 
plication  of  a  modern  title,  as  Mr.  Steevens  conceived,  but 
a  legitimate  use  of  the  word  in  its  primitive  Latin  sense  of 
leader,  and  so  it  is  often  used  in  the  Bible.  Shakespeare 
might  have  found  Duke  Theseus  in  the  Book  of  Troy,  or 
in  Turberville's  Ovid's  Epistles.  See  the  argument  to  that 
of  Phaedra  and  Hippolytus."— Z?o«f^'j  Illustrations  of 
Shakespeare,  8vo,  1807,  vol.  i.,  p.  179. 
'  Thy  sister's  art. — Ariadne. 
'  Like  to  a  bull.— 

"  'Qs  S'  orav  iKiv  cx'"''  "e^f*""  oiZh'os  o'"^! 
Kdi/fnc  iWirifiec  Kcpawv  iiobi  aypavXoio, 
Iva  raitti  M  leaeav,  0  !i  irpoBnpwv  fci:ii)iiv." 

Homer,  Iliad,  L  xvii.  522. 


"  As  when  some  vigorous  youth  with  sharpen'd  axe 
A  pastured  bullock  smites  behind  the  horns, 
And  hews  the  muscle  through  ;  he  at  the  stroke 
Springs  forth  and  falls."  Cowper's  Translation. 

•  To  weight. — 

"  Incumbent  on  the  dusky  air 
That  felt  unusual  weight." 

Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  b.  L  227. 

•  He  arrived.— Onr  Saviour,  who,  according  to  Dante, 
when  he  ascended  from  hell,  carried  with  him  the  souls  of 
the  patriarchs,  and  of  other  just  men,  out  of  the  first  circle. 
See  canto  iv. 

'  Been  into  chaos  turn'd. — This  opinion  is  attributed  to 
Empedocles. 

•  The  river  of  blood.—"  Deinde  vidi  locum  (?  lacum) 


62 


THE  VISION. 


45-75 


Approaches,  in  the  which  all  those  are  steep'd, 
Who  have  by  violence  injured."      Oh,  blind  lust! 
Oh,  foolish  wrath  I  who  so  dost  goad  us  on 
In  the  brief  life,  and  in  the  eternal  then 
Thus  miserably  o'erwhelm  us.      I  beheld 
An  ample  fosse,  that  in  a  bow  was  bent, 
As  circling  all  the  plain ;    for  so  my  guide 
Had  told.      Between  it  and  the  rampart's  base, 
On  trail  ran  Centaurs,  with  keen  arrows  arm'd, 
As  to  the  chase  they  on  the  earth  were  wont. 

At  seeing  us  descend  they  each  one  stood ; 
And  issuing  from  the  troop,  three  sped  with  bows 
And  missile  weapons  chosen  first ;    of  whom 
One  cried  from  far :    "  Say,  to  what  pain  ye  come 
Condemn'd,  who  down  this  steep  have  journey 'd.      Speak 
From  whence  ye  stand,  or  else  the  bow  I  draw." 

To  whom  my  guide :    "  Our  answer  shall  be  made 
To  Chiron,  there,  when  nearer  him  we  come. 
Ill  was  thy  mind,  thus  ever  quick  and  rash." 
Then  me  he  touch 'd,  and  spake :    "  Nessus  is  this, 
Who  for  the  fair  Deianira  died, 
And  wrought  himself  revenge'  for  his  own  fate. 
He  in  the  midst,  that  on  his  breast  looks  down, 
Is  the  great  Chiron  who  Achilles  nursed ; 
That  other,  Pholus,  prone  to  wrath."     Around 
The  fosse  these  go  by  thousands,  aiming  shafts 
At  whatsoever  spirit  dares  emerge^ 
From  out  the  blood,  more  than  his  guilt  allows. 

We  to  those  beasts,  that  rapid  strode  along. 
Drew  near;   when  Chiron  took  an  arrow  forth, 
And  with  the  notch  push'd  back  his  shaggy  beard 


magnum  totum,  ut  mihi  vidobatur,  plenum  sanguine.  Sed 
dixit  mihi  Apostolus,  sed  non  sanguis,  sed  ignis  est  ad 
concremandos  homicidas,  et  odiosos  deputatus.  Hanc 
tamen  similitudinem  propter  sanguinis  effusionem  retinct." 
— Alberici  Visio,  §  7. 

'  And  wrought  himself  revenge. — Nessus,  when  dying 
by  the  hand  of  Hercules,  charged  Deianira  to  preserve 
the  gore  from  his  wound;  for  that  if  the  affections  of 
Hercules  should  at  any  time  be  estranged  from  her,  it 


would  act  as  a  charm,  and  recall  them.  DeYanira  had 
occasion  to  try  the  experiment ;  and  the  venom  acting,  as 
Nessus  had  intended,  caused  Hercules  to  expire  in  tor- 
ments.    See  the  "  Trachinias"  of  Sophocles. 

'  Emerge. — "Multos  in  eis  vidi  usque  ad  talos  demergi, 
alios  usque  ad  genua,  vel  femora,  alios  usque  ad  pectus 
juxta  peccati  vidi  modum  :  alios  vero  qui  majoris  criminis 
noxa  tencbantur  in  ipsis  summitatibus  supersedere  con- 
spexi." — Alberici  Visio,  §  3. 


w 
p 

c 


a. 


en 


t 


^■/lamTTT-rr 


bo 

c 
o 


-o 
o 

•4-* 

•V 

'5. 


76—107. 


HELL. — CANTO   XIL 


63 


To  the  cheek-bone,,  then,  his  great  mouth  to  view 

Exposing,  to  his  fellows  thus  exclaim'd : 

"  Are  ye  aware,  that  he  who  comes  behind 

Moves  what  he  touches  ?     The  feet  of  the  dead 

Are  not  so  wont."     My  trusty  guide,  who  now 

Stood  near  his  breast,  where  the  two  natures  join, 

Thus  made  reply :    "  He  is  indeed  alive, 

And  solitary  so  must  needs  by  me 

Be  shown  the  gloomy  vale,  thereto  induced 

By  strict  necessity,  not  by  delight. 

She  left  her  joyful  harpings  in  the  sky. 

Who  this  new  office  to  my  care  consign'd. 

He  is  no  robber,  no  dark  spirit  I. 

But  by  that  virtue,  which  empowers  my  step 

To  tread  so  wild  a  path,  grant  us,  I  pray, 

One  of  thy  band,  whom  we  may  trust  secure, 

Who  to  the  ford  may  lead  us,  and  convey 

Across,  him  mounted  on  his  back ;   for  he 

Is  not  a  spirit  that  may  walk  the  air." 

Then  on  his  right  breast  turning,  Chiron  thus  . 
To  Nessus^  spake :    "  Return,  and  be  their  guide. 
And  if  you  chance  to  cross  another  troop, 
Command  them  keep  aloof."      Onward  we  moved, 
The  faithful  escort  by  our  side,  along 
The  border  of  the  crimson-seething  flood. 
Whence,  from  those  stcep'd  within,  loud  shrieks  arose. 

Some  there  I  mark'd,  as  high  as  to  their  brow 
Immersed,  of  whom  the  mighty  Centaur  thus : 
"  These  are  the  souls  of  tyrants,  who  were  given 
To  blood  and  rapine.     Here  they  wail  aloud 
Their  merciless  wrongs.     Here  Alexander  dwells, 
And  Dionysius  fell,  who  many  a  year 


'  Nessus. — Our  poet  was  probably  induced,  by  the 
following  line  in  Ovid,  to  assign  to  Nessus  the  task  of 
conducting  them  over  the  ford  : 

"  Nessus  adit  membrisque  valens  scitusque  vadorum." 

Metamorphoses,  1.  ix. 
And  Ovid's  authority  was  Sophocles,  who  says  of  tais 
centaur — 


"*0f;  Tov  ^aOvppovv  Trorafiov  Evqvov  /Sporoffi 
MtaQuii  iropeve  ^ep*^'*'  ovre  TroixTri^oi^ 
Ku)7Taic  ipiatrtiJVy  oiJrc  Xaiipfatv  veuQ" 

Trac/tinia,  S7a 
"  He  in  his  arms,  across  Evenus'  stream 
Deep-flowing,  bore  the  passenger  for  hire, 
Without  or  sail  or  billow-cleaving  oar." 


64 


THE   VISION. 


108—13* 


Of  woe  wrought  for  fair  Sicily.     That  brow, 

Whereon  the  hair  so  jetty  clustering  hangs, 

Is  Azzolino;'   that  with  flaxen  locks 

Obizzo  of  Este,*  in  the  world  destroy 'd 

By  his  foul  step-son."    To  the  bard  revered 

I  turn'd  me  round,  and  thus  he  spake  :   "  Let  him 

Be  to  thee  now  first  leader,  me  but  next 

To  him  in  rank."     Then  further  on  a  space 

The  Centaur  paused,  near  some,  who  at  the  throat 

Were  extant  from  the  wave;   and,  showing  us 

A  spirit  by  itself  apart  retired, 

Exclaim'd  :    "He^  in  God's  bosom  smote  the  heart, 

Which  yet  is  honour'd  on  the  bank  of  Thames." 

A  race  I  next  espied  who  held  the  head, 
And  even  all  the  bust,  above  the  stream. 
'Midst  these  I  many  a  face  remember'd  well. 
Thus  shallow  more  and  more  the  blood  became, 
So  that  at  last  it  but  imbrued  the  feet ; 
And  there  our  passage  lay  athwart  the  fosse. 

"  As  ever  on  this  side  the  boiling  wave 
Thou  seest  diminishing,"  the  Centaur  said, 
"  So  on  the  other,  be  thou  well  assured, 
It  lower  still  and  lower  sinks  its  bed, 
Till  in  that  part  it  re-uniting  join, 
Where  'tis  the  lot  of  tyranny  to  mourn. 


'  Assolino. — Azzolino,  or  Ezzolino  di  Romano,  a  most 
cruel  tyrant  in  the  Marca  Trivigiana,  Lord  of  Padua, 
Vicenza,  Verona,  and  Brescia,  who  died  in  1260.  His 
atrocities  form  the  subject  of  a  Latin  tragedy,  called  "  Ec- 
cerinis,"  by  Albertino  Mussato,  of  Padua,  the  contem- 
porary of  Dante,  and  the  most  elegant  writer  of  Latin 
verse  of  that  age.  See  also  the  "  Paradise,"  canto  ix. ; 
Berni,  "  Orlando  Innamorato,"  lib.  ii.,  c.  xxv.,  st  50 ; 
Ariosto,  "  Orlando  Furioso,"  c.  iii.,  st  33  ;  and  Tassoni, 
"  Secchia  Raplta,"  c.  viii.,  st  1 1. 

»  Obizzo  o/EsU,  Marquis  of  Fer,rara  and  of  the  Marca 
d'Ancona,  was  murdered  by  his  own  son  (whom,  for  that 
most  unnatural  act,  Dante  calls  his  step-son)  for  the  sake 
of  the  treasures  which  his  rapacity  had  amassed.  See 
Ariosto,  "  Orlando  Furioso,"  c.  iii.,  st  32.  He  died  in 
1293,  according  to  Gibbon,  "Ant  of  the  House  of  Bruns- 
wick," Posthumous  Works,  v.  ii.,  4to. 

•  He. — "  Henrie,  the  brother  of  this  Edmund,  and  son 
to  the  foresaid  King  of  Almaine  (Richard,  brother  of 
Henry  II L  of  England),  as  he  returned  from  Aflfrike, 


where  he  had  been  with  Prince  Edward,  was  slain  at 
Viterbo  in  Italy  (whither  he  was  come  about  business 
which  he  had  to  do  with  the  Pope),  by  the  hand  of  Guy  de 
Montfort,  the  son  of  Simon  de  Montfort,  Earl  of  Leicester, 
in  revenge  of  the  same  Simon's  death.  The  murther  was 
committed  afore  the  high*  altar,  as  the  same  Henrie 
kneeled  there  to  hear  divine  service." — a.d  1272.  Holin- 
shetTs  Chronicles,  p.  275.  See  also  G.  Villani,  "Hist.," 
lib.  vii.,  c  xl.,  where  it  is  said  "  that  the  heart  of  Henry 
was  put  into  a  golden  cup,  and  placed  on  a  pillar  at 
London  Bridge  over  the  river  Thames,  for  a  memorial  to 
the  English  of  the  said  outrage."  Lombardi  suggests  that 
"  ancor  si  cola"  in  the  text  may  mean,  not  that  "  the  heart 
was  still  honoured,"  but  that  it  was  put  into  a  perforated 
cup  in  order  that  tlie  blood  dripping  from  it  might  excite 
the  spectators  to  revenge.  This  is  surely  too  improbable. 
"  Un  poco  prima  dove  piu  si  stava 

Sicuro  Enrico,  il  conte  di  Monforte 
L'alma  del  corpo  col  coltel  gli  cava." 
Fasiio  degli  Uberii,  DiUamondo,  1.  ii.,  cap.  xxix. 


I 


i33-»40- 


HELL. CANTO   XII. 


65 


^ 


There  Heaven's  stern  justice  lays  chastising  hand 
On  Attila,  who  was  the  scourge  of  earth, 
On  Sextus  and  on  Pyrrhus/  and  extracts 
Tears  ever  by  the  seething  flood  unlock'd 
From  the  Rinieri,  of  Corneto  this, 
Pazzo  the  other  named,^  who  fill'd  the  ways 
With  violence  and  war."     This  said,  he  turn'd. 
And  quitting  us,  alone  re-pass'd  the  ford^ 


*  On  Sextus  and  on  Pyrrhus. — Sextus,  either  the  son 
of  Tarquin  the  Proud,  or  of  Pompsy  the  Great ;  and 
Pyrrhus,  King  of  Epirus. 


'  The  Rinieri,  of  Corneto  thU,  Passo  the  other  tiamed. 
— Two  noted  marauders.  The  latter  was  of  the  noble 
family  of  Pazzi  in  Florenca 


CANTO     XIII. 


ARGUMENT. 

Still  in  the  seventh  circle,  Dante  enters  its  second  compartment,  which  contains  both  those  who  have  done  violence  on 
their  own  persons  and  those  who  have  violently  consumed  their  goods  ;  the  first  changed  into  rough  and  knotted  trees 
whereon  the  harpies  build  their  nests,  the  latter  chased  and  torn  by  black  female  mastiffs.  Among  the  former,  Piero 
delle  Vigne  is  one  who  tells  him  the  cause  of  his  having  committed  suicide,  and  moreover  in  what  manner  the  souls 
«re  transformed  into  those  trunks.  Of  the  latter  crew  he  recognises  Lano,  a  Siennese,  and  Giacomo,  a  Paduan ;  and 
Ustly,  a  Florentine,  who  had  hung  himself  from  his  own  roof,  speaks  to  him  of  the  calamities  of  his  countrvmen. 


T^  RE  Nessus  yet  had  reach 'd  the  other  bank, 

"^^     We  entcr'd  on  a  forest,^  where  no  track 

Of  steps  had  worn  a  way.     Not  verdant  there 

The  foliage,  but  of  dusky  hue ;    not  light 

The  boughs  and  tapering,   but  with  knares  deform'd 

And  matted  thick:   fruits  there  were  none,  but  thorns 

Instead,  with  venom  fiU'd.      Less  sharp  than  these, 

Less  intricate  the  brakes,  wherein  abide 

Those  animals,  that  hate  the  cultured  fields, 

Betwixt  Corneto  and  Cecina's  stream.^ 

Here  the  brute  Harpies  make  their  nest,  the  same 
Who  from  the  Strophades^  the  Trojan  band 
Drove  with  dire  boding  of  their  future  woe. 
Broad  are  their  pennons,*  of  the  human  form 
Their  neck  and  countenance,  arm'd  with  talons  keen 
The  feet,  and  the  huge  belly  fledge  with  wings. 
These  sit  and  wail  on  the  drear  mystic  wood. 

The  kind  instructor  in  these  words  began : 
*'  Ere  further  thou  proceed,  know  thou  art  now 


'  A  forest. — "  Inde  in  aliam  vallem  nimis  tcrribiliorem 
deveni  plen.imsubtilissimisarboribus  in  modum  hastarum 
sexaginta  brachiorum  longltudinem  habentibus,  quarum 
omnium  capita,  ac  si  sudes  acutissima  erant,  et  spinosa." 
—Alberici  Visio,  §  4. 

'  Betwixt  Corneto  and  Cecina's  stream. — A  wild  and 
woody  tract  of  country,  abounding  in  deer,  goats,  and  wild 
boars.    Cecina  is  a  river  not  far  to  the  south  of  Legliorn ; 


Corneto,  a  small  city  on  the  same  coast,  in  the  patrimony 
of  the  Church. 

»  The  Strop/iades.—Ste  Virgil,  "/Eneid,"  lib.  iii.  210. 

'  Broad  are  their  pennons. — 

"  Virginei  volucrum  vultus,  foedissima  ventris 
Proluvies,  uncaeque  manus  et  pallida  semper 
Ora  fame." 

l^irgil,  ^neid,  lib.  iii.  3i& 


I 

I 


tl,b^ 


Here  the  brute  Harpies  make  their  nest. 

Canto  XIII. ,  lineW. 


3o-5t.  HELL. CANTO   XIII.  67 

r  th'  second  round,  and  shalt  be,  till  thou  come 

Upon  the  horrid  sand :   look  therefore  well 

Around  thee,  and  such  things  thou  shalt  behold, 

As  would  my  speech  discredit."     On  all  sides 

I  heard  sad  plainings  breathe,  and  none  could  see 

From  whom  they  might  have  issued.      In  amaze 

Fast  bound  I  stood.     He,  as  it  seem'd,  believed 

That  I  had  thought  so  many  voices  came 

From  some  amid  those  thickets  close  conceal'd,         }' 

And  thus  his  speech  resumed  :    "  If  thou  lop  off 

A  single  twig  from  one  of  those  ill  plants. 

The  thought  thou  hast  conceived  shall  vanish  quite." 

Thereat  a  little  stretching  forth  my  hand, 
From  a  great  wilding  gather'd  V  a  branch. 
And  straight  the  trunk  exclaim'd,  "  Why  pluck'st  thou  me?" 
Then,  as  the  dark  blood  trickled  down  its  side, 
These  words  it  added  :    "  Wherefore  tear'st  me  thus  ? 
-  Is  there  no  touch  of  mercy  in  thy  breast  ? 
Men  once  were  we,  that  now  are  rooted  here. 
Thy  hand  might  well  have  spared  us,  had  we  been 
The  souls  of  serpents."     As  a  brand  yet  green, 
That  burning  at  one  end  from  the  other  sends 
A  groaning  sound,  and  hisses  with  the  wind 
That  forces  out  its  way,  so  burst  at. once 
Forth  from  the  broken  splinter  words  and  blood, 

I,  letting  fall  the  bough,  remain'd  as  one 
Assail'd  by  terror ;   and  the  sage  replied  : 
"  If  he,  oh,  injured  spirit !    could  have  believed 
What  he  hath  seen  but  in  my  verse  described,' 
He  never  against  thee  had  stretch 'd  his  hand. 
But  I,  because  the  thing  surpass'd  belief. 
Prompted  him  to  this  deed,  which  even  now 


'  Gather'd  f.—So  Frezzi  ; 

"  A  quelle  frasche  stesi  su  la  mano, 
E  d'una  vetta  un  ramusccl  nc  colsi ; 
Allora  ella  grido  :  oime,  fa  piano, 
E  sangue  vivo  usci,  ond'  io  lo  tolsi." 


'  In  my  verse  described. — The  commentators  explai^ 
this,  "  If  he  could  have  believed,  in  corvsetiiWn^  of  my 
assurances  alone,  that  of  *hich^e  hath  now  had  ocular 
proof,  he  would  not  have  stretched  lorth  his  hand  against 
thee."  But  I  am  of  opinion  that  Dante  makes  Virgil 
allude  to  his  own  story  of  Polydorus,  in  the  third  book  of 


//  Quadriregto,  lib.  i.,  cap.  4.  the  ".^neid." 


68 


THE    VISION. 


Sa-ya. 


Myself  I  rue.     But  tell  me  who  thou  wast ; 

That,  for  this  wrong  to  do  thee  some  amends, 

In  the  upper  world  (for  thither  to  return 

Is  granted  him)  thy  fame  he  may  revive." 

"That  pleasant  word  of  thine,'"  the  trunk  replied, 

"  Hath  so  inveigled  me,  that  I  from  speech 

Cannot  refrain,  wherein  if  I  indulge 

A  little  longer,  in  the  snare  detain'd, 

Count  it  not  grievous.     I  it  was,'  who  held 

Both  keys  to  Frederick's  heart,  and  turn'd  the  wards, 

Opening  and  shutting,  with  a  skill  so  sweet. 

That  besides  me,  into  his  inmost  breast 

Scarce  any  other  could  admittance  find. 

The  faith  I  bore  to  my  high  charge  was  such, 

It  cost  me  the  life-blood  that  warm'd  my  veins. 

The  harlot,^  who  ne'er  turn'd  her  gloating  eyes 

From  Caesar's  household,  common  vice  and  pest 

Of  courts,  'gainst  me  inflamed  the  minds  of  all; 

And  to  Augustus  they  so  spread  the  flame, 

That  my  glad  honours  changed  to  bitter  woes. 

My  soul,  disdainful  and  disgusted,  sought 

Refuge  in  death  from  scorn,  and  I  became, 

Just  as  I  was,  unjust  toward  myself. 

By  the  new  roots,  which  fix  this  stem,  I  swear. 

That  never  faith  I  broke  to  my  liege  lord. 

Who  merited  such  honour ;   and  of  you, 

If  any  to  the  world  indeed  return, 


•  7>a/  pleasant  word  of  thine. — "  Since  you  have  in- 
veigled me  to  speak  by  holding  forth  so  gratifying  an 
expectation,  let  it  not  displease  you  if  I  am  as  it  were 
detained  in  the  snare  you  have  spread  for  me,  so  as  to  be 
•omewhat  prolix  in  my  answer." 

'  /  it  was. — Piero  delle  Vigne,  a  tiative  of  Capua,  who 
from  a  low  condition  raised  himself,  by  his  eloquence  and 
legal  knowledge,  to  the  office  of  Chancellor  to  the  Emperor 
Frederick  11.;  whose  confidence  in  him  was  such,  that 
his  influence  in  the  empire  became  unbounded.  The 
courtiers,  envious  of  his  exalted  situation,  contrived,  by 
means  of  forged  letters,  to  make  Frederick  believe  that  lie 
held  a  secret  and  traitorous  intercourse  with  the  Pope, 
who  was  then  at  enmity  with  the  Emperor.  In  conse- 
quence of  this  supposed  crime,  he  was  cruelly  condemned, 


by  his  too  credulous  sovereign,  to  lose  his  eyes ;  and  being 
driven  to  despair  by  his  unmerited  calamity  and  disgrace, 
he  put  an  end  to  his  life  by  dashing  out  his  brains  against 
the  walls  of  a  churcli,  in  the  year  1245.  Both  Frederick 
and  Piero  delle  Vigne  composed  verses  in  the  Sicilian 
dialect,  which  are  now  extant  A  canzone  by  each  of  them 
may  be  seen  in  the  ninth  book  of  the  "  Sonetti "  and 
"  Canzoni  di  diversi  Autori  Toscani,"  published  by  the 
Giunti  in  1527. 

'  The  harlot. — Envy.     Chaucer  alludes  to  this,  in  the 
Prologue  to  the  "  Legende  of  Good  Women  :" 

"  Envie  is  lavender  to  the  court  alway. 
For  she  ne  parteth  neither  night  ne  day 
Out  of  the  house  of  Cesar:  thus  saitli  Uant" 


79— »J5-  HELL. — CANTO   XIIL  5o 

Clear  he  from  wrong  my  memory,  that  lies 
Yet  prostrate  under  envy's  cruel  blow." 

First  somewhat  pausing,  till  the  mournful  words 
Were  ended,  then  to  me  the  bard  began  : 
"Lose  not  the  time;   but  speak,  and  of  him  ask, 
If  more  thou  wish  to  learn."     Whence  I  replied : 
"  Question  thou  him  again  of  whatsoe'er 
Will,  as  thou  think'st,  content  me ;    for  no  power 
Have  I  to  ask,  such  pity  is  at  my  heart." 

He  thus  resumed  :    "So  may  he  do  for  thee 
Freely  what  thou  entreatest,  as  thou  yet 
Be  pleased,  imprison'd  spirit!    to  declare, 
How  in  these  gnarled  joints  the  soul  is  tied ; 
And  whether  any  ever  from  such  frame 
Be  loosen'd,  if  thou  canst,  that  also  tell." 

Thereat  the  trunk  breathed  hard,  and  the  wind  soon 
Changed  into  sounds  articulate  like  these : 
"  Briefly  ye  shall  be  answer'd.     When  departs 
The  fierce  soul  from  the  body,  by  itself 
Thence  torn  asunder,  to  the  seventh  gulf 
By  Minos  doom'd,  into  the  wood  it  falls, 
No  place  assign'd,  but  wheresoever  chance 
Hurls  it ;   there  sprouting,  as  a  grain  of  spelt, 
It  rises  to  a  sapling,  growing  thence 
A  savage  plant.     The  Harpies,  on  its  leaves 
Then  feeding,  cause  both  pain,  and  for  the  pain 
A  vent  to  grief.     We,  as  the  rest,  shall  come 
For  our  own  spoils,  yet  not  so  that  with  them 
We  may  again  be  clad  ;   for  what  a  man 
Takes  from  himself  it  is  not  just  he  have. 
Here  we  perforce  shall  drag  them  ;   and  throughout 
The  dismal  glade  our  bodies  shall  be  hung, 
Each  on  the  wild  thorn  of  his  wretched  shade." 

Attentive  yet  to  listen  to  the  trunk 
We  stood,  expecting  further  speech,  when  us 
A  noise  surprised  ;   as  when  a  man  perceives 
The  wild  boar  and  the  hunt  approach  his  place 


TO 


THE  VISION. 


1 16—144 


Of  station'd  watch,  who  of  the  beasts  and  boughs 

Loud  rustling  round  him  hears.     And,  lo !   there  came 

Two  naked,  torn  with  briers,  in  headlong  flight, 

That  they  before  them  broke  each  fan  o'  th'  wood.i 

"  Haste  now,"  the  foremost  cried,  "  now  haste  thee,  death  I 

The  other,  as  seem'd,  impatient  of  delay, 

Exclaiming,  "Lanol*   not  so  bent  for  speed 

Thy  sinews,  in  the  lists  of  Toppo's  field." 

And  then,  for  that  perchance  no  longer  breath 

Sufficed  him,  of  himself  and  of  a  bush 

One  group  he  made.     Behind  them  was  the  wood 

Full  of  black  female  mastiffs,  gaunt  and  fleet. 

As  greyhounds  that  have  newly  slipt  the  leash. 

On  him,  who  squatted  down,  they  stuck  their  fangs, 

And  having  rent  him  piecemeal  bore  away 

The  tortured  limbs.     My  guide  then  seized  my  hand, 

And  led  me  to  the  thicket,  which  in  vain 

Mourn 'd  through  its  bleeding  wounds:    "O  Giacomo 

Of  Sant'  Andrea  P  what  avails  it  thee," 

It  cried,  "  that  of  me  thou  hast  made  thy  screen  ? 

For  thy  ill  life,  what  blame  on  me  recoils  ?"  . 

When  o'er  it  he  had  paused,  my  master  spake : 
"  Say  who  wast  thou,  that  at  so  many  points 
Breathest  out  with  blood  thy  lamentable  speech  ?" 

He  answer'd  :    "Oh,  ye  spirits  I   arrived  in  time 
To  spy  the  shameful  havoc  that  from  me 
My  leaves  hath  sever'd  thus,  gather  them  up, 
And  at  the  foot  of  their  sad  parent-tree 
Carefully  lay  them.     In  that  city*  I  dwelt. 


f> 


'  Each/an  <f  th'  wood. — Hence  perhaps  Milton  : 

"  Leaves  and  fuming  rills,  Aurora's  fan." 

Paradise  Lost,  b.  v.  6. 

Some  have  translated  "  rosta  "  "  impediment,"  instead  of 
"fan." 

'  Latio! — Lano,  a  Siennese,  who  being  reduced  by  pro- 
digality to  a  state  of  extreme  want,  found  his  existence  no 
longer  supportable ;  and  having  been  sent  by  his  country- 
men on  a  military  expedition  to  assist  the  Florentines 
against  the  Aretini,  took  that  opportunity  of  exposing 
himself  to  certain  death,  in  the  engagement  which  took 


place  at  Toppo,  near  Arezza  See  G.  Villani,  "  Hist,"  lih. 
vii.,  c.  cxix. 

>  O  Giacomo  of  Sant'  Andrea/ — ^Jacopo  da  Sant' 
Andrea,  a  Paduan,  who,  having  wasted  his  property  in  the 
most  wanton  acts  of  profusion,  killed  himself  in  despair. 

*  In  that  city. — "  I  was  an  inhabitant  of  Florence,  that 
city  which  changed  her  first  patron  Mars  for  St  John  the 
Baptist ;  for  which  reason  the  vengeance  of  the  deity  thus 
slighted  will  never  be  appc.iscd  ;  and  if  some  remains  of 
his  statue  were  not  still  visible  on  the  bridge  over  the 
Arno,  she  would  have  been  already  levelled  to  the  ground; 
and  thus  the  citizens,  who  raised  her  again  from  the  ashes 


I 

\ 


US-1S2 


HELL. 


:ANT0   XIII. 


71 


Who  for  the  Baptist  her  first  patron  changed, 
Whence  he  for  this  shall  cease  not  with  his  art 
To  work  her  woe:   and  if  there  still  remain'd  not 
On  Arno's  passage  some  faint  glimpse  of  him, 
Those  citizens,  who  rear'd  once  more  her  walls 
Upon  the  ashes  left  by  Attila, 
^  Had  labour'd  without  profit  of  their  toil. 
I  slung  the  fatal  noose ^  from  my  own  roof." 


to  which  Attila  bad  reduced  her,  would  have  laboured  in 
vain."  See  "Paradise,"  canto  xvi.  44.  The  relic  of 
antiquity,  to  which  the  superstition  of  Florence  attached 
»o  high  an  importance,  was  carried  away  by  a  flood,  that 
destroyed  the  bridge  on  which  it  stood,  in  the  year  1337, 


but  without  the  ill  effects  that  were  apprehended  from  the 
loss  of  their  fancied  Palladium. 

'  /  slung  the  fatal  noose. — We  are  not  informed  who 
this  suicide  was  ;  some  calling  him  Rocco  de'  Mozzi,  and 
others  Lotto  degli  Agli. 


CANTO     XIV. 


ARGUMENT. 

They  arrive  at  the  beginning  of  the  third  of  those  compartments  into  which  this  seventh  circle  is  divided.  It  is  a  plain 
of  dry  and  hot  sand,  where  three  kinds  of  violence  are  punished ;  namely,  against  God,  against  Nature,  and  against 
Art ;  and  those  who  have  thus  sinned  are  tormented  by  flakes  of  fire,  which  are  eternally  showering  down  upon 
them.  Among  the  violent  against  God  is  found  Capaneus,  whose  blasphemies  they  hear.  Next,  turning  to  the  left 
along  the  forest  of  self-slayers,  and  having  journeyed  a  little  onwards,  they  meet  with  a  streamlet  of  blood  that  issues 
from  the  forest  and  traverses  the  sandy  plain.  Here  Virgil  speaks  to  our  poet  of  a  huge  aicient  statue  that  stands 
within  Mount  Ida  in  Crete,  from  a  fissure  in  which  statue  there  is  a  dripping  of  tears,  from  which  the  said  streamlet, 
together  with  the  three  other  infernal  rivers,  are  formed. 

OOON  as  the  charity  of  native  land 

Wrought  in  my  bosom,  I  the  scatter'd  leaves 
Collected,  and  to  him  restored,  who  now 
Was  hoarse  with  utterance.     To  the  limit  thence 
We  came,  which  from  the  third  the  second  round 
Divides,  and  where  of  justice  is  display 'd 
Contrivance  horrible.     Things  then  first  seen 
Clearlier  to  manifest,  I  tell  how  next 
A  plain  we  reach'd,  that  from  its  sterile  bed 
Each  plant  repell'd.     The  mournful  wood  waves  round 
Its  garland  on  all  sides,  as  round  the  wood 
Spreads  the  sad  fosse.     There,  on  the  very  edge, 
Our  steps  we  stay'd.     It  was  an  area  wide 
Of  arid  sand  and  thick,  resembling  most 
The  soil  that  erst  by  Cato's  foot'  was  trod. 

Vengeance  of  heaven  I     Oh  !   how  shouldst  thou  be  fear'd 
By  all,  who  read  what  here  mine  eyes  beheld. 

Of  naked  spirits  many  a  flock  I  saw, 
All  weeping  piteously,  to  different  laws 
Subjected ;  for  on  the  earth  some  lay  supine, 
Some  crouching  close  were  seated,  others  paced 


•  By  Cato's  foot.— Set  Lucan,  **  Pharsalia,"  libu  ix. 


M— 53-  HELL. CANTO   XIV.  yo 

Incessantly  around  ;   the  latter  tribe 
More  numerous,  those  fewer  who  beneath 
The  torment  lay,  but  louder  in  their  grief. 

O'er  all  the  sand  fell  slowly  wafting  down 
Dilated  flakes  of  fire.i  as  flakes  of  snow 
On  Alpine  summit,  when  the  wind  is  hush'd. 
^      As,  in  the  torrid  Indian  clime,^  the  son 
Of  Ammon  saw,  upon  his  warrior  band 
Descending,  solid  flames,  that  to  the  ground 
Came  down;   whence  he  bethought  him  with  his  troop 
To  trample  on  the  soil ;   for  easier  thus 
The  vapour  was  extinguish'd,  while  alone: 
So  fell  the  eternal  fiery  flood,  wherewith 
The  marie  glow'd  underneath,  as  under  stove^ 
The  viands,  doubly  to  augment  the  pain. 
Unceasing  was  the  play  of  wretched  hands, 
Now  this,  now  that  way  glancing,  to  shake  off 
The  heat,  still  falling  fresh.     I  thus  began  : 
"  Instructor  I   thou  who  all  things  overcomest. 
Except  the  hardy  demons  that  rush'd  forth 
To  stop  our  entrance  at  the  gate,  say  who 
Is  yon  huge  spirit,  that,  as  seems,  heeds  not 
The  burning,  but  lies  writhen  in  proud  scorn, 
As  by  the  sultry  tempest  immatured  ?" 

Straight  he  himself,  who  was  aware  I  ask'd 
My  guide  of  him,  exclaim'd  :    "  Such  as  I  was 
When  living,  dead  such  now  I  am.     If  Jove 
Weary  his  workman  out,  from  whom  in  ire 
He  snatch'd  the  lightnings,  that  at  my  last  day 
Transfix'd  me ;    if  the  rest  he  weary  out. 
At  their  black  smithy  labouring  by  turns. 
In  Mongibello,*  while  he  cries  aloud. 


•  Dilated  flakes  of  fire. — Compare-  Tasso,  "Gierusa- 
lemme  Liberata,"  c.  k.,  st  6i  : 

"  AI  fin  giungemmo  al  loco,  ove  gia  scese 
Fiamma  del  cielo  in  dilatate  falde, 
E  di  natura  vendic6  1'  offese 
Sovra  la  gente  in  mal  oprar  si  salde." 
'  As,  in  the  torrid  Indian  clime. — Landino  refers  to 
Albertus  Magnus  for  the  circumstance  here  alluded  ta 


'  As  under  stove. — So  Frezzi  : 

"  Si  come  1'  esca  al  foco  del  focile." 

Lib.  i.,  cap.  1 7 
■•  In  Mongibello. — 

"  More  liot  than  yEta'  or  flaming  MongibelL" 

Spenser,  Faery  Queen,  b.  ii.,  c.  ix.,  st  29 
"Siccome  alia  fucina  in  Mongibello 
Fabrica  tuono  il  demonio  Vulcano, 


74 


THE   VISION. 


54-85. 


'Help,  help,  good  Mulciberl'  as  erst  he  cried 
In  the  Phlegraean  warfare ;   and  the  bolts 
Launch  he,  full  aim'd  at  me,  with  all  his  might; 
He  never  should  enjoy  a  sweet  revenge." 

Then  thus  my  guide,  in  accent  higher  raised 
Than  1  before  had  heard  him  :    "  Capaneus  I 
Thou  art  more  punish'd,  in  that  this  thy  pride 
Lives  yet  unquench'd  :    no  torment,  save  thy  rage. 
Were  to  thy  fury  pain  proportion'd  full." 

Next  turning  round  to  me,  with  milder  lip 
He  spake :   "  This  of  the  seven  kings  was  one,^ 
Who  girt  the  Theban  walls  with  siege,  and  held, 
As  still  he  seems  to  hold,  God  in  disdain, 
And  sets  his  high  omnipotence  at  nought. 
But,  as  I  told  him,  his  despiteful  mood 
Ls  ornament  well  suits  the  breast  that  wears  it. 
Follow  me  now;  and  look  thou  set  not  yet 
Thy  foot  in  the  hot  sand,  but  to  the  wood 
Keep  ever  close."      Silently  on  we  pass'd 
To  where  there  gushes  from  the  forest's  bound 
A  little  brook,  whose  crimson'd  wave  yet  lifts 
My  hair  with  horror.     As  the  rill,  that  runs 
From  Bulicame,^  to  be  portion'd  out 
Among  the  sinful  women  ;   so  ran  this 
Down  through  the  sand  ;   its  bottom  and  each  bank 
Stone-built,  and  either  margin  at  its  side. 
Whereon  I  straight  perceived  our  passage  lay. 

"  Of  all  that  I  have  shown  thee,  since  that  gate 
We  enter'd  first,  whose  threshold  is  to  none 
Denied,  nought  else  so  worthy  of  regard, 
As  is  this  river,  has  thine  eye  discern'd. 
O'er  which  the  flaming  volley  all  is  quench'd.** 


Battc  folgori  e  foco  col  martello, 
E  con  esso  i  suoi  fabri  in  ogni  mano." 
lierni,  Orlando  Innamoralo,  lib.  i.,  c.  xvi.,  st  31. 

See  Viigil  "iCneid,"  lib.  viii.  416.       It  would  be  endless 
to  refer  to  parallel  passages  in  the  Greek  writers. 
'  This  ofth*  seven  kings  was  one. — Compare  i&chylus, 


"Seven    CHiefs,"  425  ;     Euripides,  " Phoenissas,"  1179; 
and  Statius,  "Thebais,"  lib.  x.  821. 

'  Bulicame.—h  warm  medicinal  spring  near  Viterbo ;  the 
waters  of  which,  as  Landino  and  Vellutelli  affirm,  passed 
by  a  place  of  ill  fame.  Venturi  conjectures  that  Dante 
would  imply  that  it  was  the  scene  of  much  licentious 
merriment  among  those  who  frequented  its  baths. 


86—117. 


HELL. —  CANTO   XIV. 


7S 


♦> 


So  spake  my  guide;   and  I  him  thence  besought, 
That  having  given  me  appetite  to  know, 
The  food  he  too  would  give,  that  hunger  craved. 

"  In  midst  of  ocean,"  forthwith  he  began, 
"A  desolate  country  lies,  which  Crete  is  named; 
Under  whose  monarch,'  in  old  times,  the  world 
Lived  pure  and  chaste.     A  mountain  rises  there, 
Call'd  Ida,  joyous  once  with  leaves  and  streams, 
Deserted  now  like  a  forbidden  thing. 
It  was  the  spot  which  Rhea,  Saturn's  spouse, 
Chose  for  the  secret  cradle  of  her  son ; 
And  better  to  conceal  him,  drown'd  in  shouts 
His  infant  cries.     Within  the  mount,  upright 
An  ancient  form  there  stands,  and  huge,  that  turns 
His  shoulders  towards  Damiata;   and  at  Rome, 
As  in  his  mirror,  looks.     Of  finest  gold 
His  head^  is  shaped,  pure  silver  are  the  breast 
And  arms,  thence  to  the  middle  is  of  brass. 
And  downward  all  beneath  well-temper'd  steel, 
Save  the  right  foot  of  potter's  clay,  on  which 
Than  on  the  other  more  erect  he  stands. 
Each  part,  except  the  gold,  is  rent  throughout; 
And  from  the  fissure  tears  distil,  which  join'd 
Penetrate  to  that  cave.     They  in  their  course, 
Thus  far  precipitated  down  the  rock. 
Form  Acheron,  and  Styx,  and  Phlegethon  ; 
Then  by  this  straiten'd  channel  passing  hence 
Beneath,  e'en  to  the  lowest  depth  of  all, 
Form  there  Cocytus,  of  whose  lake  (thyself 
Shalt  see  it)  I  here  give  thee  no  account." 

Then  I  to  him :    "  If  from  our  world  this  sluice 
Be  thus  derived  ;   wherefore  to  us  but  now 


'  Under  whose  monarch. — 

"  Credo  pudicitiatn  Satumo  rege  moratam 
In  terris."  Juvenal,  Satires,  vL 

"In  Saturn's  reign,  at  Nature's  early  birth, 
There  was  a  thing  call'd  chastity  on  earth." 

Dryden. 


«  His  A<farf.— This  is  imitated  by  Frewi,  in  the  "  Quad- 
riregio,"  lib.  iv.,  cap.  14  : 

"  La  statua  grande  vidi  in  un  gran  piano,"  &c 
"  This  image's  head  was  of  fine  gold,  his  breast  and  his 
arms  of  silver,  his  belly  and  his  thighs  of  brass,  his  legs  of 
iron,  his  feet  part  of  iron  and  part  of  clay."— Dan.  ii. 
32,  33- 


76;  THE  VISION.  ii8-i3«. 

Appears  it  at  this  edge?"     He  straight  replied: 

"  Tl\e  place,  thou  know'st,  is  round  :   and  though  great  part 

Thou  have  already  past,  still  to  the  left 

Descending  to  the  nethermost,  not  yet 

Hast  thou  the  circuit  made  of  the  whole  orb. 

Wherefore,  if  aught  of  new  to  us  appear. 

It  needs  not  bring  up  wonder  in  thy  looks." 

Then  I  again  inquired  :    "  Where  flow  the  streams 
Of  Phlegethon  and  Lethe  ?   for  of  one 
Thou  tell'st  not ;   and  the  other,  of  that  shower, 
Thou  say'st,  is  forni'd."     He  answer  thus  return'd : 
"  Doubtless  thy  questions  all  well  pleased  I  hear. 
Yet  the  red  seething  wave'  might  have  resolved 
One  thou  proposest.     Lethe  thou  shalt  see, 
But  not  within  this  hollow,  in  the  place 
Whither,^  to  lave  themselves,  the  spirits  go, 
Whose  blame  hath  been  by  penitence  removed." 
He  added  :    "  Time  is  now  we  quit  the  wood. 
Look  thou  my  steps  pursue :    the  margins  give 
Safe  passage,  unimpeded  by  the  flames ; 
For  over  them  all  vapour  is  extinct." 


'  Tk*  red  seething  wave. — This  he  might  have  known  '  In  the  plact  whither. — On  the   other  side  of  Pur- 

iwis  Phlegethoa  gatoiy. 


CANTO    XV. 


ARGUMENT. 

Talcing  their  way  upon  one  of  the  mounds  by  which  the  streamlet,  spoken  of  in  the  last  canto,  was  embanked,  and  having 
gone  so  far  that  they  could  no  longer  have  discerned  the  forest  if  they  had  turned  round  to  look  for  it,  they  meet  a 
troop  of  spirits  that  come  along  the  sand  by  the  side  of  the  pier.  These  are  they  who  have  done  violence  to  Nature ; 
and  amongst  them  Dante  distinguishes  nrunetto  Latini,  who  had  been  formerly  his  master  ;  with  whom,  turning  a 
bttle  backward,  he  holds  a  discourse  which  occupies  the  remainder  of  this  canto. 


I 


/^NE  of  the  solid  margins  bears  us  now 

^^^      Envelop'd  in  the  mist,  that,  from  the  stream 

Arising,  hovers  o'er,  and  saves  from  fire 

Both  piers  and  water.     As  the  Flemings  rear 

Their  mound,  'twixt  Ghent  and  Bruges,  to  chase  back 

The  ocean,  fearing  his  tumultuous  tide 

That  drives  toward  them  ;   or  the  Paduans  theirs 

Along  the  Brenta,  to  defend  their  towns 

And  castles,  ere  the  genial  warmth  be  felt 

On  Chiarentana's^  top  ;   such  were  the  mounds, 

So  framed,  though  not  in  height  or  bulk  to  these 

Made  equal,  by  the  master,  whosoe'er 

He  was,  that  raised  them  here.     We  from  the  wood 

Were  now  so  far  removed,  that  turning  round 

I  might  not  have  discern 'd  it,  when  we  met 

A  troop  of  spirits,  who  came  beside  the  pier. 

They  each  one  eyed  us,  as  at  eventide 
One  eyes  another  under  a  new  moon ; 
And  toward  us  sharpen'd  their  sight,  as  keen 
As  an  old  tailor  at  his  needle's  eye.^ 

Thus  narrowly  explored  by  all  the  tribe, 


'  Ert  the  gevial  wartnth  bt  felt  on  Chiarentana^s  top. 
— A  part  of  the  Alps  where  the  Brenta  rises  ;  which  river 
is  much  swollen  as  soon  as  the  snow  begins  to  dissolve 
on  the  mountains. 

'  As  an  old  tailor  at  his  needle's  eye, — In  Fazio  degli 


Uberti's  "  Dittamondo,"  1.  iv.,  cap.  4,  the  tailor  is  intro- 
duced in  a  simile  scarcely  less  picturesque  : 
"  Perch^  tanto  mi  stringe  a  qucsto  punto 
La  lunga  tema,  ch'  io  fo  come  il  sarto 
Che  quando  affretta  spesso  passa  il  punta* 


78 


THE    VISION. 


23— a«. 


I  was  agnised  of  one,  who  by  the  skirt 

Caught  me,  and  cried,  "What  wonder  have  we  here?' 

And  I,  when  he  to  me  outstretch'd  his  arm, 
Intently  fix'd  my  ken  on  his  parch'd  looks. 
That,  although  smirch *d  with  fire,  they  hinder'd  not 
But  I  remember'd  him;  and  towards  his  face 
My  hand  inclining,  answer'd  :   "  Ser  Brunetto  !* 


•  BruHefto.—"  Ser  Brunetto,  a  Florentine,  the  secretary 
or  chancellor  of  the  city,  and  Dante's  preceptor,  hath  left 
OS  a  work  so  little  read,  that  both  the  subject  of  it  and  the 
language  of  it  have  been  mistaken.  It  is  in  the  French 
spoken  in  the  reign  of  St.  Louis,  under  the  title  of  'Tresor;' 
and  contains  a  species  of  philosophical  course  of  lectures 
divided  into  theory  and  practice,  or,  as  he  expresses  it, 
'««  enchausscment  des  choses  divines  et  humaines^  "  &c. — 
Sir  R.  Clayton's  Translation  of  Tenhove's  "Memoirs  of 
the  Afedici,"  vol.  i.,  ch.  ii.,  p.  104.  The  "  Tresor  "  has 
never  been  printed  in  the  original  language.  There  is 
a  fine  manuscript  of  it  in  the  British  Museum,  with  an 
illuminated  portrait  of  Brunetto  in  his  study,  prefixed. 
Mus.  Brit.  MSS.  17,  E.  I,  Tesor.  It  is  divided  into  four 
books :  the  first,  on  Cosmogony  and  Theology ;  the 
second,  a  translation  of  Aristotle's  Ethics ;  the  third,  on 
Virtues  and  Vices ;  the  fourth,  on  Rhetoric.  For  an 
interesting  memoir  relating  to  this  work,  see  "  Hist,  de 
I'Acad.  dcs  Inscriptions,"  torn  vii.  296.  His  "Tesoretto," 
one  of  the  earliest  productions  of  Italian  poetry,  is  a 
curious  work,  not  unlike  the  writings  of  Chaucer  in  style 
and  numbers;  though  Bembo  remarks  that  his  pupil, 
however  largely  he  had  stolen  from  it,  could  not  have 
much  enriched  himself.  As  it  is  perhaps  but  little  known, 
I  will  here  add  a  slight  sketch  of  it.  Brunetto  describes 
himself  as  returning  from  an  embassy  to  the  King  of 
Spain,  on  which  he  had  been  sent  by  the  Guelph  party 
from  Florence.  On  the  plain  of  Roncesvalles  he  meets  a 
'  scholar  on  a  bay  mule — 

"  Un  scolaio 
Sur  un  mulctto  baio" — 
"  There  a  scholar  I  espied 
On  a  bay  mule  that  did  ride  "— 

who  tells  him  that  the  Guelfi  are  driven  out  of  the  dty 
with  great  loss.  Struck  with  grief  at  these  mournful 
tidings,  and  musing  with  his  head  bent  downwards,  he 
loses  his  road,  and  wanders  into  a  wood.  Here  Nature, 
whose  figure  is  described  with  sublimity,  appears,  and 
discloses  to  him  the  secrets  of  her  operations.  After  this, 
be  wanders  into  a  desert — 

"  Deh  che  paese  fiero 
Trovai  in  quella  parte. 

Che  s'io  sapessi  d'arte 
Quivi  mi  bisognava. 

Che  quanto  piu  mirava 
Pill  mi  parea  selvaggia 

Quivi  non  a  viaggio, 
Quivi  non  a  persone, 

Quivi  non  a  magione. 
Non  bestia  non  uccello, 

Non  fiume  non  ruscello, 
Non  formica  non  mosca, 

Non  cosa  ch'io  conosca. 


Ed  io  pensando  forte 

Dottai  ben  della  morte, 
E  non  d  maraviglia, 

Che  ben  trecento  miglia, 
Durava  d'ogni  lato, 

Quel  paese  smagato  "  — 

"  Well-away  !  what  fearful  ground 
In  that  savage  part  I  found. 
If  of  art  I  aught  could  ken, 
Well  behoved  me  use  it  then. 
More  I  look'd,  the  more  I  deem'd 
That  it  wild  and  desert  seem'd. 
Not  a  road  was  there  in  sight, 
Not  a  house,  and  not  a  wight : 
Not  a  bird,  and  not  a  brute. 
Not  a  rill,  and  not  a  root ; 
N  ot  an  emmet,  not  a  fly. 
Not  a  thing  I  mote  descry 
Sore  I  doubted  therewithal 
Whether  death  would  me  befall ; 
Nor  was  wonder,  for  around 
Full  three  hundred  miles  of  groimd 
Right  across  on  every  side 
Lay  the  desert  bare  and  wide  "— 

and  proceeds  on  his  way,  under  the  protection  of  a 
banner  with  which  Nature  had  furnished  him,  till  on  the 
third  day  he  finds  himself  in  a  pleasant  champaign,  where 
are  assembled  many  emperors,  kings,  and  sages  : 

"  Un  gran  piano  giacondo 
Lo  piu  gajo  del  mondo 
E  lo  pid  degnitoso." 
"Wide  and  far  the  champaign  lay, 
None  in  all  the  earth  so  gay." 

It  is  the  habitation  of  Virtue  and  her  daughters,  the  four 
Cardinal  Virtues.  Here  Brunetto  sees  also  Courtesy, 
Bounty,  Loyalty,  and  Prowess,  and  hears  the  instructions 
they  give  to  a  knight,  which  occupy  about  a  fourth  part  of 
the  poem.  Leaving  this  territory,  he  passes  over  valleys, 
mountains,  woods,  forests,  and  bridges,  till  he  arrives  in 
a  beautiful  valley  covered  with  flowers  on  all  sides,  and 
the  richest  in  the  world ;  but  which  was  continually 
shifting  its  appearance  from  a  round  figure  to  a  square, 
from  obscurity  to  light,  and  from  populousness  to  solitude. 
This  is  the  region  of  Pleasure,  or  Cupid,  who  is  accom- 
panied by  four  ladies— Love,  Hope,  Fear,  and  Desire.  In 
one  part  of  it  he  meets  with  Ovid,  and  is  instructed  by 
him  how  to  conquer  the  passion  of  love,  and  to  escape 
from  that  place.  After  his  escape,  he  makes  his  confes- 
sion to  a  friar,  and  then  returns  to  the  forest  of  visions  ; 
and,  ascending  a  mountain,  meets  with  Ptolemy,  a  vene- 
rable old  man.  Here  the  narrative  breaks  off.  The  poem 
ends,  as  it  began,  with  an  address  to  Kustico  di  Filippo, 
on  whom  he  lavishes  every  sort  of  praise.      It  has  been 


I 


o 

c 

3 


29-55- 


HELL. 


:ANT0    XV. 


79 


And  are  ye  here?"     He  thus  to  me:   "My  son  I 
Oh,  let  it  not  displease  thee,  if  Brunetto    :  I  . 
Latini  but  a  little  space  with  thee 
Turn  back,  and  leave  his  fellows  to  proceed." 
I  thus  to  him  replied:    "Much  as  I  can, 
I  thereto  pray  thee ;   and  if  thou  be  willing 
That  I  here  seat  me  with  thee,  I  consent ; 
His  leave,  with  whom  I  journey,  first  obtain'd.*' 

"Oh,  son!"   said  he,  "whoever  of  this  throng 
One  instant  stops,  lies  then  a  hundred  years, 
No  fan  to  ventilate  him,  when  the  fire 
Smites  sorest.     Pass  thou  therefore  on.     I  close 
Will  at  thy  garments  walk,  and  then  rejoin 
My  troop,  who  go  mourning  their  endless  doom."- 

I  dared  not  from  the  path  descend  to  tread 
On  equal  ground  with  him,  but  held  my  head 
Bent  down,  as  one  who  walks  in  reverent  guise. 

"What  chance  or  destiny,"  thus  he  began, 
"  Ere  the  last  day,  conduces  thee  here  below  ? 
And  who  is  this  that  shows  to  thee  the  way?" 
"  There  up  aloft,"  I  answer'd,  "  in  the  life 
Serene,  I  wander'd  in  a  valley  lost, 
Before  mine  age'  had  to  its  fulness  reach 'd. 
But  yester-morn  I  left  it:   then  once  more 
Into  that  vale  returning,  him  I  met ; 
And  by  this  path  homeward  he  leads  me  back." 
"  If  thou,"  he  answer'd,  "  follow  but  thy  star, 


observed  that  Dante  derived  the  idea  of  opening  his 
poem,  by  describing  himself  as  lost  in  a  wood,  from  the 
"Tesoretto"  of  his  master.  I  know  not  whether  it  has 
been  remarked  that  the  crime  of  usury  is  branded  by 
both  these  poets  as  offensive  to  God  and  Nature  : 

"  Un  altro,  che  non  cura 

Di  Dio  ne  di  Natursi, 

Si  diventa  usuriere  " — 

"One,  that  holdeth  not  in  mind 

Law  of  God  or  Nature's  kind, 

Taketb  him  to  usury  " — 

or  that  the  sin  for  which  Brunetto  is  condemned  by  his 
pupil  is  mentioned  in  his  "Tesoretto  "  with  great  horror. 
IJut  see  what  is  said  on  this  subject  by  I'erticari,  "  Degli 
Scrittori  del  Trecento,''  L  i.,  c.  iv.     Dante's  twenty-fifth 


sonnet  is  a  jocose  one,  addressed  to  Brunetto,  of  which  a 
translation  is  inserted  in  the  Life  of  Dante,  prefixed.  He 
died  in  1291.  G.  Villani  sums  up  his  account  of  him  by 
saying  thai  he  was  himself  a  worldly  man  ;  but  that  he 
was  the  first  to  refine  the  Florentines  from  their  grossness, 
and  to  instruct  them  in  speaking  properly,  and  in  con- 
ducting the  affairs  of  the  republic  on  principles  of  policy. 
'  Before  mine  age. —  On  the  whole,  Vellutello's  explana- 
tion of  this  is,  I  think,  most  satisfactory.  He  supposes  it 
to  rae.in,  "  before  the  appointed  end  of  his  life  was  ar- 
rived—before his  days  were  accomplished."  Lombardi, 
concluding  that  the  fulness  of  age  must  be  the  same  as 
'  "the  midway  of  this  our  mortal  life  "  (see  canto  i.,  v.  i), 
understands  that  he  had  lost  himself  in  the  wood  before 
that  time,  and  that  he  then  only  discovered  his  having 
gone  astray. 


8o  THE  VISION.  56-89. 

Thou  canst  not  miss  at  last  a  glorious  haven; 
Unless  in  fairer  days  my  judgment  err'd. 
.  And  if  my  fate  so  early  had  not  chanced, 
Seeing  the  heavens  thus  bounteous  to  thee,  I 
Had  gladly  given  thee  comfort  in  thy  work. 
But  that  ungrateful  and  malignant  race, 
Who  in  old  times  came  down  from  Fesole,' 
Ay  and  still  smack  of  their  rough  mountain-flint, 
Will  for  thy  good  deeds  show  thee  enmity. 
Nor  wonder ;   for  amongst  ill-savour'd  crabs 
It  suits  not  the  sweet  fig-tree  lay  her  fruit. 
Old  fame  reports  them  in  the  world  for  blind," 
Covetous,  envious,  proud.     Look  to  it  well : 
Take  heed  thou  cleanse  thee  of  their  ways.     For  thee, 
Thy  fortune  hath  such  honour  in  reserve. 
That  thou  by  either  party  shalt  be  craved 
With  hunger  keen  :   but  be  the  fresh  herb  far 
From  the  goat's  tooth.      The  herd  of  Fesole 
May  of  themselves  make  litter,  not  touch  the  plant, 
If  any  such  yet  spring  on  their  rank  bed. 
In  which  the  holy  seed  revives,  transmitted 
From  those  true  Romans,  who  still  there  remain'd, 
When  it  was  made  the  nest  of  so  much  ill." 

"Were  all  my  wish  fulfill'd,"  I  straight  replied, 
"  Thou  from  the  confines  of  man's  nature  yet 
Hadst  not  been  driven  forth ;  for  in  my  mind 
Is  fix'd,  and  now  strikes  full  upon  my  heart, 
The  dear,  benign,  paternal  image,  such 
As  thine  was,  when  so  lately  thou  didst  teach  me 
The  way  for  man  to  win  eternity : 
And  how  I  prized  the  lesson,  it  behoves, 
That,  long  as  life  endures,  my  tongue  should  speak. 
What  of  my  fate  thou  tell'st,  that  write  I  down  ; 
And,  with  another  text*  to  comment  on. 


«  Feiel*.—See  G.  Villani,  "  Hist.,"  lib.  iv.,  cap.  v.,  and 
Macchiavelli,  "History  of  Florence."  b.  ii. 

'  Blind.— \\.  is  said  that  the  Florentines  were  thus 
called,  in  consequence  of  their  having  been  deceived  by 


a  shallow  artifice  practised  on  them  by  the  Pisans,  in  the 
year  ii  17.     See  G.  Villani,  lib.  iv.,  cap.  xxx. 

•  With  another  texl.—Wt  refers  to  the  prediction  ol 
Farinata,  in  canto  x. 


90 — ii8. 


HELL.- 


:ANT0   XV. 


81 


r 


For  her  I  keep  it,  the  celestial  dame, 
Who  will  know  all,  if  I  to  her  arrive. 
This  only  would  I  have  thee  clearly  note : 
That,  so  my  conscience  have  no  plea  against  me, 
Do  Fortune  as  she  list,  I  stand  prepared. 
Not  new  or  strange  such  earnest  to  mine  ear. 
Speed  Fortune  then  her  wheel,  as  likes  her  best ; 
The  clown  his  mattock ;    all  things  have  their  course." 

Thereat  my  sapient  guide  upon  his  right 
Turn'd  himself  back,  then  looked  at  me,  and  spake: 
"  He  listens  to  good  purpose  who  takes  note." 

1  not  the  less  still  on  my  way  proceed, 
Discoursing  with  Brunetto,  and  inquire 
Who  are  most  known  and  chief  among  his  tribe. 

"To  know  of  some  is  well;"   he  thus  replied, 
*'  But  of  the  rest  silence  may  best  beseem. 
Time  would  not  serve  us  for  report  so  long. 
In  brief  I  tell  thee,  that  all  these  were  clerks, 
Men  of  great  learning  and  no  less  renown, 
By  one  same  sin  polluted  in  the  world. 
With  them  is  Priscian;'   and  Accorso's  son, 
Francesco,^  herds  among  that  wretched  throng  : 
And,  if  the  wish  of  so  impure  a  blotch 
Possess'd  thee,  him''  thou  also  mightst  have  seen, 
Who  by  the  servants'  servant*  was  transferr'd 
From  Arno's  seat  to  Bacchiglione,  where 
His  ill-strain'd  nerves  he  left.      I  more  would  add, 
But  must  from  further  speech  and  onward  way 
Alike  desist ;   for  yonder  I  behold 


'  Priset'an. —ThcTe  is  no  reason  to  believe,  as  the 
commentators  observe,  that  the  grammarian  of  this  name 
was  stained  wiih  the  vice  imputed  to  him  ;  and  we  must 
therefore  suppose  that  Dante  puts  the  individual  for  the 
species,  and  implies  the  frequency  of  the  crime  among 
those  who  abused  the  opportunities  which  the  education 
of  youth  afforded  them,  to  so  abominable  a  purpose. 

'  Francesco. — Accorso,  a  Florentine,  interpreted  the 
Roman  law  at  Bologna,  and  died  in  1229,  at  the  age 
of  seventy-eight.  His  authority  was  so  great  as  to 
exceed  that  of  all  the  other  interpreters,  so  that  Cino 
da  Pistoia  termed  him  the  "  Idol  of  Advocates."  His 
sepulchre,  and  that  of  his  son   Francesco,  here  spoken 


of,  is  at  Bologna,  with  this  short  epitaph  :  "Sepulcrum 
Accursii  Glossatoris  et  Francisci  ejus  Filii."  See  Guidi 
Panziroli,  "  De  Claris  Legum  Interpretibus,"  lib.  ii.,  cap. 
xxix.,  Lips.,  4to,  1721. 

'  Him. — Andrea  de'  Mozzi,  who,  that  his  scandalous 
life  might  be  less  exposed  to  observation,  was  translated 
either  by  Nicholas  III.  or  Boniface  VIII.  from  the  see  of 
Florence  to  that  of  Vicenza,  through  which  passes  the 
river  Bacchiglione.     At  the  latter  of  these  places  he  died. 

*  The  servants  servant.S&r\o  de'  servi.  So  Aiiosto, 
Sat.  iiL : 

"  Degli  servi 
lo  sia  il  gran  servo." 


82 


THE  VISION. 


119— lad 


A  mist  new-risen  on  the  sandy  plain. 
A  company,  with  whom  I  may  not  sort, 
Approaches.      I  commend  my  Treasure  to  thee,* 
Wherein  I  yet  survive ;   my  sole  request." 

This  said,  he  turn'd,  and  seem'd  as  one  of  those 
Who  o'er  Verona's  champaign  try  their  speed 
For  the  green  mantle ;  and  of  them  he  seem'd, 
Not  he  who  loses  but  who  gains  the  prize.   . 


'  /  commend  my  Treantre  to  thee. — Brunetto's  great 
work,  the  "  Tresor  . " 

"  Sieti  raccomandato  il  mio  Tesoro." 


So   Giusto    de'    Conti,    in   his    "Bella    Mano,"     Son. 
"Occhi :" 

"  Siavi  raccommandaco  il  mio  Tesoro." 


CANTO     XVI. 


L 


ARGUMENT. 

Journeying  along  the  pier,  which  crosses  the  sand,  they  are  now  so  near  the  end  of  it  as  to  hear  the  noise  of  the  stream 
falling  into  the  eighth  circle,  when  they  meet  the  spirits  of  three  military  men  ;  who  judging  Dante,  from  his  dress, 
to  be  a  countryman  of  theirs,  entreat  him  to  stop.  He  complies,  and  speaks  with  them.  The  two  poets  then 
reach  the  place  where  the  water  descends,  being  the  termination  of  this  third  compartment  in  the  seventh  circle; 
and  here  Virgil  having  thrown  down  into  the  hollow  a  cord,  wherewith  Dante  was  girt,  they  behold  at  that  signal 
a  monstrous  and  horrible  figure  come  swimming  up  to  them. 

XT  OW  came  I  where  the  water's  din  was  heard, 

As  down  it  fell  into  the  other  round, 
Resounding  like  the  hum  of  swarming  bees : 
When  forth  together  issued  from  a  troop, 
That  pass'd  beneath  the  fierce  tormenting  storm, 
Three  spirits,  running  swift-     They  towards  us  came. 
And  each  one  cried  aloud,  "  Oh  I   do  thou  stay, 
Whom,  by  the  fashion  of  thy  garb,  we  deem 
To  be  some  inmate  of  our  evil  land." 

Ah  me  I   what  wounds  I  mark'd  upon  their  limbs, 
Recent  and  old,  inflicted  by  the  flames. 
E'en  the  remembrance  of  them  grieves  me  yet. 

Attentive  to  their  cry,  my  teacher  paused. 
And  turn'd  to  me  his  visage,  and  then  spake : 
"  Wait  now :   our  courtesy  these  merit  well ; 
And  were  't  not  for  the  nature  of  the  place, 
Whence  glide  the  fiery  darts,  I  should  have  said, 
That  haste  had  better  suited  thee  than  them." 

They,  when  we  stopp'd,  resumed  their  ancient  wail, 
And,  soon  as  they  had  reach'd  us,  all  the  three 
Whirl'd  round  together  in  one  restless  wheel. 
As  naked  champions,  smear 'd  with  slippery  oil 
Are  wont,  intent,  to  watch  their  place  of  hold 
And  vantage,  ere  in  closer  strife  they  meet; 


84 


THE   VISION. 


aS-44. 


Thus  each  one,  as  he  wheel'd,  his  countenance 

At  me  directed,  so  that  opposite 

The  neck  moved  ever  to  the  twinkling  feet. 

"  If  woe  of  this  unsound  and  dreary  waste," 
Thus  one  began,  "  added  to  our  sad  cheer 
Thus  peel'd  with  flame,  do  call  forth  scorn  on  us 
And  our  entreaties,  let  our  great  renown 
Incline  thee  to  inform  us  who  thou  art, 
That  dost  imprint,  with  living  feet  unharm'd, 
The  soil  of  Hell.      He,  in  whose  track  thou  seest 
My  steps  pursuing,  naked  though  he  be 
And  reft  of  all,  was  of  more  high  estate 
Than  thou  believest;   grandchild  of  the  chaste 
Gualdrada,'  him  they  Guidoguerra  call'd, 
Who  in  his  lifetime  many  a  noble  act* 
Achieved,  both  by  his  wisdom  and  his  sword. 
The  other,  next  to  me  that  beats  the  sand, 
Is  Aldobrandi,^  name  deserving  well. 
In  the  'upper  world,  of  honour ;   and  myself, 
Who  in  this  torment  do  partake  with  them, 


•  Gualdrada. — Gualdrada  was  the  daughter  of  Bel- 
tincione  Berti,  of  whom  mention  is  made  in  the  "  Para- 
dise," canto  XV.  and  xvi.  He  was  of  the  family  of 
Ravignani,  a  branch  of  the  Adimari.  The  Emperor 
Otho  IV.,  being  at  a  festival  in  Florence  where  Gualdrada 
was  present,  was  struck  with  her  beauty;  and  inquiring 
who  she  was,  was  answered  by  Bellincione  that  she  was 
the  daughter  of  one  who,  if  it  was  His  Majesty's  pleasure, 
would  make  her  admit  the  honour  of  his  salute.  On 
overhearing  this,  she  arose  from  her  seat,  and  blushing, 
in  an  animated  tone  of  voice,  desired  her  father  that  he 
would  not  be  so  liberal  in  his  offers,  for  that  no  man 
should  ever  be  allowed  that  freedom  except  him  who 
should  be  her  lawful  husband.  The  emperor  was  not 
Jess  delighted  by  her  resolute  modesty  than  he  had  before 
been  by  the  loveliness  of  her  person  ;  and  calling  to  him 
Guido,  one  of  his  barons,  gave  her  to  him  in  marriage,  at 
the  same  time  raising  him  to  the  rank  of  a  count,  and 
bestowing  on  her  the  whole  of  Casentino,  and  a  part  of 
the  territory  of  Romagna,  as  her  portion.  Two  sons  were 
the  offspring  of  this  union,  Gug'.ielino  and  Ruggieri  ;  the 
bttcr  of  whom  was  father  of  Guidoguerra,  a  man  of  great 
military  skill  and  prowess,  who,  at  the  head  of  four  hun- 
dred Florentines  of  the  Guelph  party,  was  signally  instru- 
mental to  the  victory  obtained  at  Benevento  by  Charles 
of  Anjou,  over  Manfredi,  King  of  Naples,  in  1265.  One 
of  the  consequences  of  this  victory  was  the  expulsion  of 
the  Ghibellini,  and  the  re-establishment  of  the  Guelfi  at 
Florence.     Borghini  ("Disc,  dell'  Grig,  di  Firenze,"  ediz. 


1755,  p.  6),  as  cited  by  Lombard!,  endeavours  by  a  com- 
parison of  dates  to  throw  discredit  on  the  above  relation 
of  Gualdrada's  answer  to  her  father,  which  is  found  in 
G.  Villani,  lib.  v.^  c.  xxxvii. :  and  Lombardi  adds,  that  if 
it  had  been  true,  Bellincione  would  have  been  worthy  of  a 
place  in  the  eighteenth  canto  of  "  Hell,"  rather  than  of 
being  mentioned  with  praise  in  the  "  Paradise  :"  to  which 
it  may  be  answered,  that  the  proposal  of  the  father,  how- 
ever irreconcileable  it  may  be  to  our  notions  of  modern 
refinement,  might  possibly  in  those  times  have  been 
considered  rather  as  a  sportive  sally  than  as  a  serious 
exposure  of  his  daughter's  innocence.  The  incident  is 
related,  in  a  manner  very  unfavourable  to  Berti,  by  Fran- 
cesco Sansovino,  in  one  of  his  "  Novelle,"  inserted  by 
Mr.  Thomas  Roscoe  in  his  entertaining  selection  from 
the  Italian  novelists,  v.  iii.,  p.  137. 
'  Many  a  noble  act. — 

"  Molto  egli  opr6  col  senno  e  con  la  mano." 

Tasso,  GierHsalemme  Liberata,  c.  i.,  st  I. 

•  Aldobrandi. — Tegghiaio  Aldobrandi  was  of  the  noble 
family  of  Adimari,  and  much  esteemed  for  his  military 
talents.  He  endeavoured  to  dissuade  the  Florentines 
from  the  attack  which  they  meditated  against  the  Sieii- 
nese;  and  the  rejection  of  his  counsel  occasioned  the 
memorable  defeat  which  the  former  sustained  at  Mcnta- 
perto,  and  the  consequent  banishment  of  the  Guelfi  from 
Florence. 


I 


«— 7*. 


HELL. — CANTO   XVI. 


35 


Am  Rusticucci,'  whom,  past  doubt,  my  wife, 
Of  savage  temper,  more  than  aught  beside 
Hath  to  this  evil  brought."      If  from  the  fire 
I  had  been  shelter 'd,  down  amidst  them  straight 
I  then  had  cast  me ;    nor  my  guide,  I  deem, 
Would  have  restrain'd  my  going :   but  that  fear 
Of  the  dire  burning  vanquish'd  the  desire, 
Which  made  me  eager  of  their  wish'd  embrace. 

I  then  began :   "  Not  scorn,  but  grief  much  more, 
Such  as  long  time  alone  can  cure,  your  doom 
Fix'd  deep  within  me,  soon  as  this  my  lord 
Spake  words,  whose  tenor  taught  me  to  expect 
That  such  a  race,  as  ye  are,  was  at  hand. 
I  am  a  countryman  of  yours,  who  still 
Affectionate  have  utter'd,  and  have  heard 
Your  deeds  and  names  renown'd.      Leaving  the  gall. 
For  the  sweet  fruit  I  go,  that  a  sure  guide 
Hath  promised  to  me.     But  behoves,  that  far 
As  to  the  centre  first  I  downward  tend." 

"  So  may  long  space  thy  spirit  guide  thy  limbs," 
He  answer  straight  return'd  ;    "  and  so  thy  fame 
Shine  bright  when  thou  art  gone,  as  thou  shalt  tell, 
If  courtesy  and  valour,  as  they  wont, 
Dwell  in  our  city,  or  have  vanish'd  clean: 
For  one  amidst  us  late  condemn'd  to  wail, 
Borsiere,''  yonder  walking  with  his  peers. 
Grieves  us  no  little  by  the  news  he  brings." 

"  An  upstart  multitude  and  sudden  gains, 
Pride  and  excess,  O  Florence !  have  in  thee 
Engender'd,  so  that  now  in  tears  thou  mourn'st  1" 

Thus  cried  I,  with  my  face  upraised,  and  they 
All  three,  who  for  an  answer  took  my  words, 
Look'd  at  each  other,  as  men  look  when  truth 
Comes  to  their  ear.      "  If  at  so  little  cost,"* 


'  Rusticucci. — Giacopo  Rusticucci,  a  Florentine,  re- 
markable for  his  opulence  and  the  generosity  of  his 
sftirit. 

•  Boriiere. — Guglielmo   Borsiere,    another   Florentine. 


whom  Boccaccio,  in  a  story  which  he  relates  of  him,  terms 

"a  man  of  courteous  and  elegant  manners,  and  of  great 

readiness  in  conversation." — Decameron,  Giorn.i.,  Nov.  8. 

*  At  so  little  cost. — They  intimate  to  our  poet  (as  Lom- 


U6 


THE    VISION. 


79-107. 


They  all  at  once  rejoin'd,  "  thou  satisfy 
Others  who  question  thee,  oh  happy  thou  I 
-Gifted  with  words  so  apt  to  speak  thy  thought. 
Wherefore,  if  thou  escape  this  darksome  clime, 
Returning  to  behold  the  radiant  stars, 
When  thou  with  pleasure  shalt  retrace  the  past,* 
See  that  of  us  thou  speak  among  mankind." 

This  said,  they  broke  the  circle,  and  so  swift 
Fled,  that  as  pinions  seem'd  their  nimble  feet. 

Not  in  so  short  a  time  might  one  have  said 
"Amen,"  as  they  had  vanish'd.     Straight  my  guide 
Pursued  his  track.      I  follow'd  :   and  small  space 
Had  we  past  onward,  when  the  water's  sound 
Was  now  so  near  at  hand,  that  we  had  scarce 
Heard  one  another's  speech  for  the  loud  din. 

E'en  as  the  river,-  that  first  holds  its  course 
Unmingled,  from  the  Mount  of  Vesulo, 
On  the  left  side  of  Apennine,  toward 
The  east,  which  Acquacheta  higher  up 
They  call,  ere  it  descend  into  the  vale, 
At  Forli,^  by  that  name  no  longer  known, 
Rebellows  o'er  Saint  Benedict,  roll'd  on 
From  the  Alpine  summit  down  a  precipice. 
Where  space*  enough  to  lodge  a  thousand  spreads ; 
Thus  downward '  from  a  craggy  steep  we  found 
That  this  dark  wave  resounded,  roaring  loud, 
So  that  the  ear  its  clamour  soon  had  stunn'd. 

I  had  a  cord*  that  braced  my  girdle  round. 
Wherewith  I  erst  had  thought  fast  bound  to  take 


bardi  well  observes)  the  inconveniences  to.  which  his 
freedom  of  speech  was  about  to  expose  him  in  the  future 
course  of  his  life. 
'  IVAen  thou  with  pleasure  shalt  retrace  the  past. — 
"  Quando  ti  giovcri  dicere  io  fui." 
So  Tasso,  "  Gierusalemme  Liberata,"  c.  xv.,  st.  38  : 
"  Quando  mi  giovera  narrar  altrui 
Le  novita  vedute,  e  dire  ;  io  fui." 
'  E'en  as  the  river. —  He  compares  the  fall  of  Phle- 
gethon  to  that  of  the  Montone  (a  river  in  Romagna)  from 
the  Apennine  above  the  Abbey  of  St.  Benedict.     All  the 
other  streams  that  rise  between  the  sources  of  the  Po  and 
the  Montone,  and  fall  from  the  left  side  of  the  Apennine, 
join  the  Po.  and  accompany  it  to  the  sea. 


^  At  Fnrlt. — Because  there  it  loses  the  name  of  Acqua- 
cheta, and  takes  that  of  Montone. 

*  Where  space. — Either  because  the  abbey  was  capable 
of  containing  more  than  those  who  occupied  it,  or  because 
(says  Landino)  the  lords  of  thnt  territory,  as  Boccaccio 
related  on  the  authority  of  the  abbot,  had  intended  to 
build  a  castlft  near  the  water-fall,  and  to  collect  within  its 
walls  the  population  of  the  neighbouring  villages. 

•  A  cord. — This  passage,  as  it  is  confessed  by  Landino, 
involves  a  fiction  sufficiently  obscure.  His  own  attempt 
to  unravel  it  does  not  much  lessen  the  difficulty.  That 
which  Lombardi  has  made  is  something  better.  It  is 
believed  that  our  poet,  in  the  earlier  part  of  his  life,  had 
entered  into  the  order  of  St.  Francis.     By  observing  the 


io8— 134. 


HELL. CANTO   XVI. 


87 


The  painted  leopard.      This  when  I  had  all 
Unloosen 'd  from  me  (so  my  master  bade) 
I  gather'd  up,  and  stretch'd  it  forth  to  him. 
Then  to  the  right  he  turn'd,  and  from  the  brink 
Standing  few  paces  distant,  cast  it  down* 
Into  the  deep  abyss.      "  And  somewhat  strange," 
Thus  to  myself  I  spake,  "signal  so  strange 
Betokens,  which  my  guide  with  earnest  eye 
Thus  follows."      Ah  I   what  caution  must  men  use 
With  those  who  look  not  at  the  deed  alone. 
But  spy  into  the  thoughts  with  subtle  skill. ^ 

"Quickly  shall  come,"  he  said,  "what  I  expect; 
Thine  eye  discover  quickly  that,  whereof 
Thy  thought  is  dreaming."      Ever  to  that  truth,** 
Which  but  the  semblance  of  a  falsehood  wears, 
A  man,  if  possible,  should  bar  his  lip  ; 
Since,  although  blameless,  he  incurs  reproach. 
But  silence  here  were  vain ;   and  by  these  notes,' 
Which  now  I  sing,  reader,  I  swear  to  thee. 
So  may  they  favour  find  to  latest  times ! 
That  through  the  gross  and  murky  air  I  spied 
A  shape  come  swimming  up,  that  might  have  quell'd 
The  stoutest  heart  with  wonder ;    in  such  guise 
As  one  returns,  who  hath  been  down  to  loose 
An  anchor  grappled  fast  against  some  rock. 
Or  to  aught  else  that  in  the  salt  wave  lies, 
Who,  upward  springing,  close  draws  in  his  feet. 


rules  of  that  profession,  he  had  designed  to  mortify  his 
carnal  appetites,  or,  as  he  expresses  it,  "to  take  the 
painted  leopard  "  (that  animal,  which,  as  we  have  seen  in 
a  note  to  the  first  canto,  represented  Pleasure)  "  with  this  . 
cord."  This  part  of  the  habit  he  is  now  desired  by  Virgil 
to  take  off;  and  it  is  thrown  down  the  gulf,  to  allure 
Geryon  to  them  with  the  expectation  of  carrying  down  one 
who  had  cloaked  his  iniquities  under  the  garb  of  penitence 
and  self-mortification ;  and  thus  (to  apply  to  Dante  on 
this  occasion  the  words  of  Milton) — 

"  He,  as  Franciscan,  thought  to  pass  disguised." 
'  But  spy  into  the  thoughts  with  subtle  skill. — 
"  Sorrise  Uranio,  che  per  entro  vede 
Gli  altrui  pensier  col  senno." 

Xfenzini,  Sonetlo.     Mentre  to  dormia. 
*  Ever  to  that  truth. — This  memorable  apophthegm  is 
repeated  by  Luigi  Pulci  and  Trissino  : 


"  Sempre  a  quel  ver,  ch'  ha  faccia  di  menzogna, 
E  piu  senno  tacer  la  lingua  cheta, 
Che  spesso  senza  colpa  fa  vergogna." 

Morgante  Maggiore,  c.  xxiv 
"  La  verita,  che  par  mensogna, 
Si  dovrebbe  tacer  dall'  uom  ch'  i  saggio." 

Italia  Lib.,  c.  xvi. 
•  By  these  notes. — So  Frezzi  : 

"  Per  queste  rime  mie,  letter,  ti  giuro." 

//  Quadriregio,  lib.  iii.,  cap.  16. 
In  like  manner,  Pindar  confirms  his  veracity  by  an  oath  : 

**  'Sal  fiA  ydp^OpKOVj  e^iv  So^av." 

Nem.,  xi.  30  ; 
which  is  imitated,  as  usual,  by  Chiabrera  : 
"  Ed  io  Umgo  il  Permesso 
Sacro  alle  Muse  oblighero  mia  fede." 

Canz.  Eroiche,  xliii.  75. 


CANTO    XVII. 


ARGUMENT. 


The  monster  Geryon  is  described ;  to  whom  while  Virgil  is  speaking  in  order  that  he  may  carry  them  both  down  to 
the  next  circle,  Dante,  by  permission,  goes  a  little  further  along  the  edge  of  the  void,  to  descry  the  third  species 
of  sinners  contained  in  this  compartment,  namely,  those  who  have  done  violence  to  i\xt ;  and  then  returning  to 
bis  master,  they  both  descend,  seated  on  the  back  of  Geryon. 

"TO!     the  fell  monster^  with  the  deadly  sting, 
■^     Who  passes  mountains,  breaks  through  fenced  walls 
And  firm  embattled  spears,  and  with  his  filth 
Taints  all  the  world."      Thus  me  my  guide  address'd, 
And  beckon'd  him,  that  he  should  come  to  shore, 
Near  to  the  stony  causeway's  utmost  edge. 

Forthwith  that  image  vile  of  Fraud  appear'd, 
His  head  and  upper  part  exposed  on  land, 
But  laid  not  on  the  shore  his  bestial  train. 
His  face  the  semblance  of  a  just  man's  wore, 
So  kind  and  gracious  was  its  outward  cheer; 
The  rest  was  serpent  all :   two  shaggy  claws 
Reach'd  to  the  arm-pits  ;   and  the  back  and  breast, 
And  either  side,  were  painted  o'er  with  nodes 
And  orbits.      Colours  variegated  more 
Nor  Turks  nor  Tartars  e'er  on  cloth  of  state 
With  interchangeable  embroidery  wove. 
Nor  spread  Arachne  o'er  her  curious  loom. 
As  oft-times  a  light  skiff,  moor'd  to  the  shore, 
Stands  part  in  water,  part  upon  the  land  ; 
Or,  as  where'  dwells  the  greedy  German  boor, 
The  beaver  settles,  watching  for  his  prey; 
So  on  the  rim,  that  fenced  the  sand  with  rock, 
Sat  perch'd  the  fiend  of  evil.      In  the  void 


•  The  fell  monsUr,—¥ta.vA. 


p.  88. 


Forthwith  that  image  vile  of  Fraud  appear'd. 

Canto  XVII.,  lint  7. 


I 


25-58.  HELL. — CANTO   XVII.  gg 

Glancing,  his  tail  upturn'd  its  venomous  fork, 

With  sting  like  scorpion's  arm'd.      Then  thus  my  guide; 

"  Now  need  our  way  must  turn  few  steps  apart, 

Far  as  to  that  ill  beast,  who  couches  there." 

Thereat,  toward  the  right  our  downward  course 
We  shaped,  and,  better  to  escape  the  flame 
And  burning  marie,  ten  paces  on  the  verge 
Proceeded.      Soon  as  we  to  him  arrive, 
A  little  further  on  mine  eye  beholds 
A  tribe  of  spirits,  seated  on  the  sand 
Near  to  the  void.      Forthwith  my  master  spake: 
"  That  to  the  full  thy  knowledge  may  extend 
Of  all  this  round  contains,  go  now,  and  mark 
The  mien  these  wear :    but  hold  not  long  discourse. 
Till  thou  returnest,  I  with  him  meantime 
Will  parley,  that  to  us  he  may  vouchsafe 
The  aid  of  his  strong  shoulders."      Thus  alone, 
Yet  forward  on  the  extremity  I  paced 
Of  that  seventh  circle,  where  the  mournful  tribe 
Were  seated.      At  the  eyes  forth  gush'd  their  pangs. 
Against  the  vapours  and  the  torrid  soil 
Alternately  their  shifting  hands  they  plied. 
Thus  use  the  dogs  in  summer  still  to  ply 
Their  jaws  and  feet  by  turns,  when  bitten  sore 
By  gnats,  or  flies,  or  gadflies  swarming  round. 

Noting  the  visages  of  some,  who  lay 
Beneath  the  pelting  of  that  dolorous  fire, 
One  of  them  all  I  knew  not ;    but  perceived, 
That  pendent  from  his  neck  each  bore  a  pouch' 
With  colours  and  with  emblems  various  mark'd, 
On  which  it  seem'd  as  if  their  eye  did  feed. 

And  when,  amongst  them,  looking  round  I  came, 
A  yellow  purse^  I  saw  with  azure  wrought, 
That  wore  a  lion's  countenance  and  port. 


♦  A  pouch. — A  purse,  whereon  the  armorial  bearings  of 
each  were  emblazoned.  According  to  Landino,  our  poet 
implies  that  the  usurer  can  pretend  to  no  other  honour 
than  such  as  he  derives  from  his  purse  and  his  family. 


The  description  of  persons  by  their  heraldic  insignia  is 
remarkable  on  several  occasions  in  this  poem. 

'  A  yellow  purse. — The  arms  of  the  Gianfigliazzi  of 
Florence. 

M 


90 


THE  VISION. 


«9--«6. 


Then,  still  my  sight  pursuing  its  career, 

Another'  I  beheld,  than  blood  more  red, 

-A  goose  display  of  whiter  wing  than  curd. 

And  one  who  bore  a  fat  and  azure  swine* 

Pictured  on  his  white  scrip,  address'd  me  thus : 

"  What  dost  thou  in  this  deep  ?    Go  now  and  know, 

Since  yet  thou  livest,  that  my  neighbour  here 

Vitaliano*  on  my  left  shall  sit. 

A  Paduan  with  these  Florentines  am  I. 

Oft-times  they  thunder  in  mine  ears,  exclaiming, 

'Ohl   haste  that  noble  knight,*  he  who  the  pouch 

With  the  three  goats^  will  bring.'"      This  said,  he  writhed 

The  mouth,  and  loll'd  the  tongue  out,  like  an  ox 

That  licks  his  nostrils,     I,  lest  longer  stay 

He  ill  might  brook,  who  bade  me  stay  not  long. 

Backward  my  steps  from  those  sad  spirits  turn'd. 

My  guide  already  seated  on  the  haunch 
Of  the  fierce  animal  I  found ;  and  thus 
He  me  encouraged.      "  Be  thou  stout :   be  bold. 
Down  such  a  steep  flight  must  we  now  descend. 
Mount  thou  before :   for,  that  no  power  the  tail 
May  have  to  harm  thee,  I  will  be  i'  th'  midst." 

As  one,^  who  hath  an  ague  fit  so  near, 
His  nails  already  are  turn'd  blue,  and  he 
Quivers  all  o'er,  if  he  but  eye  the  shade ; 
Such  was  my  cheer  at  hearing  of  his  words. 
But  shame'  soon  interposed  her  threat,  who  makes 
The  servant  bold  in  presence  of  his  lord. 


'  Another. — Those  of  the  Ubbiiachi,  another  Florentine 
family  of  high  distinction. 

'  A  fat  and  azure  swine. — The  arms  of  the  Scrovigni, 
a  noble  family  of  Padua. 

•  K»/a//Vj««.— Vitaliano  del  Dente,  A  Paduan. 

•  7"/r«/«oW<r^'«/>/i/.— Giovanni  BujSmonti,a  Florentine 
usurer,  the  most  infamous  of  his  time. 

•  <J(7<7/j.— Monti,  in  his  "  Proposta,"  had  introduced  a 
facetious  dialogue,  on  the  supposed  mistake  made  in  the 

.  interpretation  of  this  word  "  becchi  "  by  the  compilers  of 
the  Delia  Crusca  Dictionar)-,  who  translated  it  "  goats," 
instead  of  "beaks."  He  afterwards  saw  his  own  error, 
and  had  the  ingenuousness  to  confess  it  in  the  Appendix, 
p.  374.     Having  in  the  former  editions  of  this  work  been 


betrayed  into  the  same  misunderstanding  of  my  author, 
I  cannot  do  less  than  follow  so  good  an  example,  by 
acknowledging  and  correcting  it. 

'  As  one. —  Dante  trembled  with  fear,  like  a  man  who, 
expecting  the  return  of  a  quartan  ague,  shakes  even  at 
the  sight  of  a  place  made  cool  by  the  shade. 

'  But  shame. — 1  have  followed  the  reading  in  Vellu- 
tello's  edition : 

"  Ma  vergogna  mi  fe  le  sue  minacce ;" 
which  appears  preferable  to  the  common  one, 
"  Ma  vergogna  mi  fer,"  &c. 

It  is  necessary  that  I  should  observe  this,  because  it  has 
been  imputed  to  me  as  a  mistake. 


/•  '/>• 


New  terror  1  conceived  at  the  steep  plunge. 

Canto  XVII.,  Hue  117. 


87-1  Ji.  HELL.— CANTO    XVII.  9I 

I  settled  me  upon  those  shoulders  huge, 
And  would  have  said,  but  that  the  words  to  aid 
My  purpose  came  not,  "  Look  thou  clasp  me  firm." 

But  he  whose  succour  then  not  first  I  proved, 
Soon  as  I  mounted,  in  his  arms  aloft, 
Embracing,  held  me  up;   and  thus  he  spake: 
"  Geryon  !   now  move  thee  :   be  thy  wheeling  gyres 
Of  ample  circuit,  easy  thy  descent. 
Think  on  the  unusual  burden  thou  sustain'st." 

As  a  small  vessel,  backening  out  from  land, 
Her  station  quits;   so  thence  the  monster  loosed, 
And,  when  he  felt  himself  at  large,  turn'd  round 
There,  where  the  breast  had  been,  his  forked  tail. 
Thus,  like  an  eel,  outstretch'd  at  length  he  steer'd, 
Gathering  the  air  up  with  retractile  claws. 

Not  greater  was  the  dread,  when  Phaeton  ^ 

The  reins  let  drop  at  random,  whence  high  heaven, 
Whereof  signs  yet  appear,  was  wrapt  in  flames; 
Nor  when  ill-fated  Icarus  perceived. 
By  liquefaction  of  the  scalded  wax. 
The  trusted  pennons  loosen'd  from  his  loins, 
His  sire  exclaiming  loud,  "  141  way  thou  keep'st," 
Than  was  my  dread,  when  round  me  on  each  part 
The  air  I  view'd,  and  other  object  none 
Save  the  fell  beast.     He,  slowly  sailing,  wheels 
His  downward  motion,  unobserved  of  me. 
But  that  the  wind,  arising  to  my  face. 
Breathes  on  me  from  below.     Now  on  our  right 
I  heard  the  cataract  beneath  us  leap 
With  hideous  crash ;   whence  bending  down  to  explore, 
New  terror  I  conceived  at  the  steep  plunge ; 
For  flames  I  saw,  and  wailings  smote  mine  ear: 
So  that,  all  trembling,  close  I  crouch'd  my  limbs, 
And  then  distinguish'd,  unperceived  before. 
By  the  dread  torments  that  on  every  side 
Drew  nearer,  how  our  downward  course  we  wound. 

As  falcon,  that  hath  long  been  on  the  wing. 


92  Tim   VISION.  124—133 

But  lure  nor  bird  hath  seen,  while  in  despair 

The  falconer  cries,  "Ah  me  I   thou  stoop'st  to  earth," 

Wearied  descends,  whence  nimbly  he  arose 

In  many  an  airy  wheel,  and  lighting  sits 

At  distance  from  his  lord  in  angry  mood ; 

So  Geryon  lighting  places  us  on  foot 

Low  down  at  base  of  the  deep-furrow'd  rock, 

And,  of  his  burden  there  discharged,  forthwith 

Sprang  forward,  like  an  arrow  from  the  string. 


CANTO     XVIII. 


ARGUMENT. 

The  poet  describes  the  situation  and  form  of  the  eighth  circle,  divided  into  ten  gulfs,  which  contain  as  many  different 
descriptions  of  fraudulent  sinners ;  but  in  the  present  canto  he  treats  only  of  two  sorts :  the  first  is  of  those  who, 
either  for  their  own  pleasure  or  for  that  of  another,  have  seduced  any  woman  from  her  duty  ;  and  these  are  scourged 
of  demons  in  the  first  gulf :  the  other  sort  is  of  flatterers,  who  in  the  second  gulf  are  condemned  to  remain  immersed 


in  filth. 


npHERE  is  a  place  within  the  depths  of  hell 
Call'd  Malebolge,  all  of  rock  dark-stain'd 
With  hue  ferruginous,  e'en  as  the  steep 
That  round  it  circling  winds.     Right  in  the  midst 
Of  that  abominable  region  yawns 
A  spacious  gulf  profound,  whereof  the  frame 
Due  time  shall  tell.     The  circle,  that  remains, 
Throughout  its  round,  between  the  gulf  and  base 
Of  the  high  craggy  banks,  successive  forms 
Ten  bastions,  in  its  hollow  bottom  raised. 

As  where,  to  guard  the  walls,  full  many  a  fosse 
Begirds  some  stately  castle,  sure  defence' 
Affording  to  the  space  within  ;   so  here 
Were  modell'd  these:   and  as  like  fortresses, 
E'en  from  their  threshold  to  the  brink  without. 
Are  flank'd  with  bridges ;    from  the  rock's  low  base 
Thus  flinty  paths  advanced,  that  'cross  the  moles 
And  dikes  struck  onward  far  as  to  the  gulf, 


'  Sure  defence. — 

"  La  parte  dov'  e'  son  rendon  sicura." 
This  is  the  common  reading  ;  besides  which  there  are 
two  others  : 


and 


"  La  parte  dove  il  sol  rende  figura  ;" 


"  La  parte  dov'  ei  son  rende  figura  : " 
the  former  of  which   two,    Lombard!  says,  is  found  in 
Daniello's  edition,  printed  at  Venice,  1568;  in  that  printed 
in  the  same  city  with  the  commentaries  of  Landino  and 


Vellutello,  1572  ;  and  also  in  some  MSS.  The  latter, 
which  has  very  much  the  appearance  of  being  genuine, 
was  adopted  by  Lombardi  himself,  on  the  authority  of  a 
text  supposed  to  be  in  the  handwriting  of  Filippo  Villani, 
but  so  defaced  by  the  alterations  made  in  it  by  some  less 
slcilful  hand,  that  the  traces  of  the  old  ink  were  with 
difficulty  recovered  ;  and  it  has,  since  the  publication  of 
Lombardi's  edition,  been  met  with  also  in  the  Monte 
Casino  MS.  Monti  is  decided  in  favour  of  Lombdrdi's 
reading,  and  Biagioli  opposed  to  it. 


94 


THE    VISION. 


19-4'/ 


That  in  one  bound  collected  cuts  them  off. 
Such  was  the  place,  wherein  we  found  ourselves 
From  Geryon's  back  dislodged.     The  bard  to  left 
Held  on  his  way,  and  I  behind  him  moved. 

On  our  right  hand  new  misery  I  saw, 
New  pains,  new  executioners  of  wrath, 
That  swarming  peopled  the  first  chasm.      Below 
Were  naked  sinners.      Hitherward  they  came, 
Meeting  our  faces,  from  the  middle  point ; 
With  us  beyond,'  but  with  a  larger  stride. 
E'en  thus  the  Romans,*  when  the  year  returns 
Of  Jubilee,  with  better  speed  to  rid 
The  thronging  multitudes,  their  means  devise 
For  such  as  pass  the  bridge;   that  on  one  side 
All  front  toward  the  castle,  and  approach 
Saint  Peter's  fane,  on  the  other  towards  the  mount. 

Each  diverse  way,  along  the  grisly  rock, 
Horn'd  demons  I  beheld,  with  lashes  huge, 
That  on  their  back  unmercifully  smote. 
Ah  I   how  they  made  them  bound  at  the  first  stripe  I 
None  for  the  second  waited,  nor  the  third. 

Meantime,  as  on  I  pass'd,  one  met  my  sight. 
Whom  soon  as  view'd,  "  Of  him,"  cried  I,  "  not  yet 
Mine  eye  hath  had  his  fill."     I  therefore  stay'd^ 
My  feet  to  scan  him,  and  the  teacher  kind 
Paused  with  me,  and  consented  I  should  walk 
Backward  a  space ;   and  the  tormented  spirit. 
Who  thought  to  hide  him,  bent  his  visage  down. 
But  it  avail'd  him  nought ;   for  I  exclaim'd : 
"Thou  who  doth  cast  thine  eye  upon  the  ground, 
Unless  thy  features  do  belie  thee  much, 


'  Beyond, — Beyond  the  middle  point  they  tended  the 
tame  way  with  us,  but  their  pace  was  quicker  than  ours. 

'  Een  thus  the  Romans.  —  In  the  year  1300,  Pope 
Boniface  VIII.,  to  remedy  the  mconvenience  occasioned 
by  the  press  of  people  who  were  passing  over  the  bridge 
of  St  Angclo  during  the  time  of  the  Jubilee,  caused  it  to 
be  divided  lengthwise  by  a  partition  ;  and  ordered  that 
all  those  who  were  gomg  to  St.  Peter's  should  keep  one 
side,  and  those  returning  the  other.    G.  Villani,  who  was 


present,  describes  the  order  that  was  preserved,  lib.  viii., 
c.  xxxvi.  It  was  at  this  time,  and  on  this  occasion,  as 
the  honest  historian  tells  us,  that  he  first  conceived  the 
design  of  "  con-.piling  his  book." 

•  /  therefore  stayd. — "  I  piedi  affissi "  is  the  reading  of 
the  Nidobeatina  edition  ;  but  Lomb.-irdi  is  under  an  error 
when  he  tells  us  that  the  other  editions  have  "gli  occhi 
affissi;"  for  VcUutello's  at  least,  printed  in  1544.  agrees 
with  the  Nidobeatina. 


'C        >: 

4-1        ,« 

4-1 

en 

J3 


c 

3 
O 


V 

u 
S 

4-> 


«. 


JO— 82 


HELL. — CANTO   XVIII. 


95 


Venedico^  art  thou.     But  what  brings  thee 
Into  this  bitter  seasoning P"^      He  replied: 
"  Unwillingly  I  answer  to  thy  words. 
But  thy  clear  speech,  that  to  my  mind  recalls 
The  world  I  once  inhabited,  constrains  me. 
Know  then  'twas  I  who  led  fair  Ghisola 
To  do  the  Marquis'  will,  however  fame 
The  shameful  tale  have  bruited.     Nor  alone 
Bologna  hither  sendeth  me  to  mourn. 
Rather  with  us  the  place  is  so  o'erthrong'd. 
That  not  so  many  tongues  this  day  are  taught, 
Betwixt  the  Reno  and  Savena's  stream, 
To  answer  Sipa^  in  their  country's  phrase. 
And  if  of  that  securer  proof  thou  need, 
Remember  but  our  craving  thirst  for  gold." 

Him  speaking  thus,  a  demon  with  his  thong 
Struck  and  exclaim'd,  "  Away,  corrupter  I   here 
Women  are  none  for  sale."     Forthwith  I  join'd 
My  escort,  and  few  paces  thence  we  came 
To  where  a  rock  forth  issued  from  the  bank. 
That  easily  ascended,  to  the  right 
Upon  its  splinter  turning,  we  depart 
From  those  eternal  barriers.     When  arrived 
Where,  underneath,  the  gaping  arch  lets  pass 
The  scourged  souls.     "  Pause  here,"  the  teacher  said, 
"  And  let  these  others  miserable  now 
Strike  on  thy  ken  ;   faces  not  yet  beheld. 
For  that  together  they  with  us  have  walk'd." 

From  the  old  bridge  we  eyed  the  pack,  who  came 
From  the  other  side  toward  us,  like  the  rest, 
Excoriate  from  the  lash.      My  gentle  guide, 
By  me  unquestion'd,  thus  his  speech  resumed : 
"Behold  that  lofty  shade,  who  this  way  tends, 


'  Venedice. — Venedico  Caccianimico,  a  Bolognese,  who 
prevailed  on  his  sister  Ghisola  to  prostitute  herself  to 
Obizzo  da  Este,  Marquis  of  Ferrara. 

'  Seasomng.— Salse.  Monti,  in  his  "Proposta,"  takes 
this  to  be  the  name  of  a  place 


•  To  answer  Sipa.—He  denotes  Bologna  by  its  situa- 
tion between  the  rivers  Savena  to  the  east,  and  Reno  to 
the  west  of  that  city ;  and  by  a  peculiarity  of  dialect,  the 
use  of  the  affirmative  si^a  instead  either  of  st,  or,  as  Monti 
will  have  it,  of  sia. 


96  THE   VISION.  83—117. 

And  seems  too  woe-begone  to  drop  a  tear. 
How  yet  the  regal  aspect  he  retains  I 
■  Jason  is  he,  whose  skill  and  prowess  won 
The  ram  from  Colchos.      To  the  Lemnian  isle 
His  passage  thither  led  him,  when  those  bold 
And  pitiless  women  had  slain  all  their  males. 
There  he  with  tokens  and  fair  witching  words 
Hypsipyle'  beguiled,  a  virgin  young, 
Who  first  had  all  the  rest  herself  beguiled. 
Impregnated,  he  left  her  there  forlorn. 
Such  is  the  guilt  condemns  him  to  this  pain. 
Here  too  Medea's  injuries  are  avenged. 
All  bear  him  company,  who  like  deceit 
To  his  have  practised.     And  thus  much  to  know 
Of  the  first  vale  suffice  thee,  and  of  those 
Whom  its  keen  torments  urge."     Now  had  we  come 
Where,  crossing  the  next  pier,  the  straiten'd  path 
Bestrides  its  shoulders  to  another  arch. 

Hence,  in  the  second  chasm  we  heard  the  ghosts, 
Who  gibber  in  low  melancholy  sounds. 
With  wide-stretch'd  nostrils  snort,  and  on  themselves 
Smite  with  their  palms.      Upon  the  banks  a  scurf, 
From  the  foul  steam  condensed,  encrusting  hung. 
That  held  sharp  combat  with  the  sight  and  smell. 

So  hollow  is  the  depth,  that  from  no  part, 
Save  on  the  summit  of  the  rocky  span, 
Could  I  distinguish  aught.      Thus  far  we  came; 
And  thence  I  saw,  within  the  fosse  below, 
A  crowd  immersed  in  ordure,  that  appear'd 
Draff  of  the  human  body.      There  beneath 
Searching  with  eye  inquisitive,  I  mark'd 
One  with  his  head  so  grimed,  'twere  hard  to  deem 
If  he  were  clerk  or  layman.     Loud  he  cried  : 
"  Why  greedily  thus  bendest  more  on  me, 
Than  on  these  other  filthy  ones,  thy  ken?" 


»  /C>'/'"/>//'-—SeeApolloniusRhodius,l.i.,and  Valerius      ,       concealing  her  father  Thoas,  when  they  had  agreed  to 
Flaccus,  L  ii.    Hypsipyle  deceived  the  other  women,  by      I      put  all  their  males  to  death. 


/•-/'■ 


"  Why  greedily  thus  bendest  more  on  me, 
Than  on  these  other  filthy  ones,  thy  ken  ?  " 

Canto  Xyill.,  lines  Il6,  I17. 


.* 


li 


/.  97- 


Thais  is  this,  the  harlot,  whose  false  lip 
Answer'd  her  doting  paramour  that  ask'd, 
"  Thankest  me  much  ! " 


Canto  XVI 1 1.,  lines  130-132. 


ii8-ii3- 


HELL. 


;anto  xviil 


97 


"  Because,  if  true  my  memory,"  I  replied, 
"I  heretofore  have  seen  thee  with  dry  locks; 
And  thou  Alessio^  art,  of  Lucca  sprung. 
Therefore  than  all  the  rest  I  scan  thee  more." 

Then  beating  on  his  brain,  these  words  he  spake: 
"  Me  thus  low  down  my  flatteries  have  sunk, 
^  Wherewith  I  ne'er  enough  could  glut  my  tongue." 

My  leader  thus :    "  A  little  further  stretch 
Thy  face,  that  thou  the  visage  well  mayst  note. 
Of  that  besotted,  sluttish  courtesan. 
Who  there  doth  rend  her  with  defiled  nails, 
Now  crouching  down,  now  risen  on  her  feet. 
Thais'^  is  this,  the  harlot,  whose  false  lip 
Answer'd  her  doting  paramour  that  ask'd, 
'Thankest  me  much!' — 'Say  rather,  wondrously,' 
And,  seeing  this,  here  satiate  be  our  view." 


'  Alessio.  —  Alessio,  of  an  ancient  and  considerable 
family  in  Lucca,  called  the  Interminei. 

'  Thais. — He  alludes  to  that  passage  in  the  "Eunuchus" 
of  Terence,  where  Thraso  asks  if  Thais  was  obliged  to 
him  for  the  present  he  bad  sent  her  ;  and  Gnatho  replies. 


that  she  had  expressed  her  obligation  in  the  most  forcible 
terms — 

"  Thais.  Magnas  ve:o  agere  gratias  Thais  mihi  ? 
Gnatho,  Ingentas." 

Eunuchtts,  Act  iii.,  sc.  L 


N 


CANTO    XIX. 


ARGUMENT. 

rhey  come  to  the  third  gulf,  wherein  are  punished  those  who  have  been  guilty  of  simony.  These  are  fixed  with  the  head 
downwards  in  certain  apertures,  so  that  no  more  of  them  than  the  legs  appears  without,  and  on  the  soles  of  their  feet 
are  seen  burning  flames.  Dante  is  taken  down  by  his  guide  into  the  bottom  of  the  gulf;  and  there  finds  Pope 
Nicholas  v.,  whose  evil  deeds,  together  with  those  of  other  pontiffs,  are  bitterly  reprehended.  Virgil  then  carries  him 
up  again  to  the  arch,  which  affords  them  a  passage  over  the  following  gulf. 

1  li  TOE  to  thee,  Simon  Magus  I   woe  to  you, 
^  ^       His  wretched  followers !   who  the  things  of  God, 

Which  should  be  wedded  unto  goodness,  them. 

Rapacious  as  ye  are,  do  prostitute 

For  gold  and  silver  in  adultery. 

Now  must  th^  trumpet  sound  for  you,  since  yours 

Is  the  third  chasm.     Upon  the  following  vault 

We  now  had  mounted,  where  the  rock  impends 

Directly  o'er  the  centre  of  the  fosse. 

Wisdonl  Supreme !    how  wonderful  the  art, 

Which  thou  dost  manifest  in  heaven,  in  earth, 

And  in  the  evil  world,  how  just  a  meed 

Allotting  by  thy  virtue  unto  all. 

I  saw  the  livid  stone,  throughout  the  sides 

And  in  its  bottom  full  of  apertures, 

All  equal  in  their  width,  and  circular  each. 
Nor  ample  less  nor  larger  they  appear'd 

Than  in  Saint  John's  fair  dome^  of  me  beloved, 

Those  framed  to  hold  the  pure  baptismal  streams, 

One  of  the  which  I  brake,  some  few  years  past, 

To  save  a  whelming  infant:   and  be  this 

*  A  seal  to  undeceive  whoever  doubts 


•  Sainf  John's  fair  dome.— Tht  apertures  in  the  rock 
were  of  the  same  dimensions  as  the  fonts  of  St.  John  the 
Baptist  at  Florence ;  one  of  which,  Dante  says,  he  had 


broken,  to  rescue  a  child  that  was  playing  near  and  fell 
in.  He  intimates  that  the  motive  of  his  breaking  the  font 
had  been  maliciously  represented  by  his  enemies. 


« 


i 


/■  99- 


There  stood  1  like  the  friar  that  doth  shrive 
A  wretch  for  murder  doom'd. 


Canto  X/X.,  lines  51,  5  a. 


B3-SS- 


HELL. 


:ANT0   XIX. 


99 


^ 


The  motive  of  my  deed.     From  out  the  mouth 
Of  every  one  emerged  a  sinner's  feet, 
And  of  the  legs  high  upward  as  the  calf. 
The  rest  beneath  was  hid.      On  either  foot 
The  soles  were  burning;   whence  the  flexile  joints 
Glanced  with  such  violent  motion,  as  had  snapt 
Asunder  cords  or  twisted  withs.      As  flame, 
Feeding  on  unctuous  matter,  glides  along 
The  surface,  scarcely  touching  where  it  moves; 
So  here,  from  heel  to  point,  glided  the  flames. 

"  Master  1    say  who  is  he,  than  all  the  rest 
Glancing  in  fiercer  agony,  on  whom 
A  ruddier  flame  doth  prey?"     I  thus  inquired. 

"  If  thou  be  willing,"  he  replied,  "  that  I 
Carry  thee  down,  where  least  the  slope  bank  falls, 
He  of  himself  shall  tell  thee,  and  his  wrongs." 

I  then:   "As  pleases  thee,  to  me  is  best. 
Thou  art  my  lord  ;   and  know'st  that  ne'er  I-  quit 
Thy  will :   what  silence  hides,  that  knowest  thou." 

Thereat  on  the  fourth  pier  we  came,  we  turn'd, 
And  on  our  left  descended  to  the  depth, 
A  narrow  strait,  and  perforated  close. 
Nor  from  his  side  my  leader  set  me  down, 
Till  to  his  orifice  he  brought,  whose  limb 
Quivering  express'd  his  pang.     "  Whoe'er  thou  art, 
Sad  spirit  I   thus  reversed,  and  as  a  stake 
Driven  in  the  soil,"  I  in  these  words  began  ; 
"  If  thou  be  able,  utter  forth  thy  voice." 

There  stood  I  like  the  friar,  that  doth  shrive 
A  wretch  for  murder  doom'd,  who,  e'en  when  fix'd,' 
Calleth  him  back,  whence  death  awhile  delays. 

He  shouted:    "Ha!   already  standest  there? 
Already  standest  there,  O  Boniface  I*^ 


'  IVhen  fix'd.  —  The  commentators  on  Boccaccio's 
"  Decameron,"  p.  72,  ediz.  Ciunti,  1573,  cite  the  words  of 
the  statute  by  which  murderers  were  sentenced  thus  to 
Suffer  at  Florence  :  "Assassinus  trahatur  ad  caudam 
muli  seu  asini  usque  ad  locum  justitia: ;  et  ibidem 
plantctur  capite  deorsum,  ita  quod  moriatur."    "  Let  the 


assassin  be  dragged  at  the  tail  of  a  mule  or  ass  to  the 
place  of  justice  ;  and  there  let  him  be  set  in  the  ground 
with  his  face  downward,  so  that  he  die." 

'  O  Boniface! — The  spirit  mistakes  Dante  for  Boni- 
face VIII.,  who  was  then  alive;  and  who  he  did  not 
expect  would  have  arrived  so  soon,  in  consequence,  as  it 


lOO 


THE  VISION. 


56-87 


By  many  a  year  the  writing  play'd  me  false. 
So  early  dost  thou  surfeit  with  the  wealth, 
'  For  which  thou  fearedst  not  in  guile'  to  take 
The  lovely  lady,  and  then  mangle  her?" 

I  felt  as  those  who,  piercing  not  the  drift 
Of  answer  made  them,  stand  as  if  exposed 
In  mockery,  nor  know  what  to  reply ; 
When  Virgil  thus  admonish'd  :    "Tell  him  quick, 
'I  am  not  he,  not  he  whom  thou  believest.'" 

And  I,  as  was  enjoin'd  me,  straight  repliea. 

That  heard,  the  spirit  all  did  wrench  his  feet, 
And,  sighing,  next  in  woeful  accent  spake: 
"What  then  of  me  requirest?     If  to  know 
So  much  imports  thee,  who  I  am,  that  thou 
Hast  therefore  down  the  bank  descended,  learn 
That  in  the  mighty  mantle  I  was  robed,^ 
And  of  a  she-bear  was  indeed  the  son. 
So  eager  to  advance  my  whelps,  that  there 
My  having  in  my  purse  above  I  stow'd, 
And  here  myself.      Under  my  head  are  dragg'd 
The  rest,  my  predecessors  in  the  guilt 
Of  simony.     Stretch'd  at  their  length,  they  lie 
Along  an  opening  in  the  rock.     'Midst  them 
I  also  low  shall  fall,  soon  as  he  comes, 
For  whom  I  took  thee,  when  so  hastily 
I  question'd.     But  already  longer  time 
Hath  past,  since  my  soles  kindled,  and  I  thus 
Upturn'd  have  stood,  than  is  his  doom  to  stand 
Planted  with  fiery  feet.     For  after  him, 
One  yet  of  deeds  more  ugly  shall  arrive, 
From  forth  the  west,  a  shepherd  without  law,* 
Fated  to  cover  both  his  form  and  mine. 


should  seem,  of  a  prophecy,  which  predicted  the  I'eath  of 
that  pope  at  a  later  period.     Boniface  died  in  1303. 

'  In  g^dle.  — "  Thou  didst  presume  to  arrive  by 
fraudulent  means  at  the  Papal  power,  and  afterwards  to 
abuse  it." 

'  In  the  mii^hty  mniitle  I  was  rcbcd. — Nicholas  111. 
of    the   Orsini  family,  whom  the  poet    therefore   calls 


"figliuol  dcir  orsa,"  "son  of  the  she-bear."      He  died 
in  1281. 

•  From  forth  the  west,  a  shepherd  without  law.  — 
Bertrand  de  Got,  Archbishop  of  Bourdeaux,  who  suc- 
ceeded to  the  pontificate  in  1305,  and  assumed  the  title  of 
Clement  V.  He  transferred  the  holy  see  to  Avignon  in 
1308  (where  it  remained  till  1376),  and  died  in  1314. 


S8— 1  la 


HELL. — CANTO   XIX. 


lOI 


He  a  new  Jason^  shall  be  call'd,  of  whom 
In  Maccabees  we  read ;   and  favour  such 
As  to  that  priest  his  king  indulgent  show'd, 
Shall  be  of  France's  monarch^  shown  to  him." 

I  know  not  if  I  here  too  far  presumed, 
But  in  this  strain  I  answer'd :    "  Tell  me  now 
What  treasures  from  Saint  Peter  at  the  first 
Our  Lord  demanded,  when  he  put  the  keys 
Into  his  charge?     Surely  he  ask'd  no  more 
But  'Follow  me!'     Nor  Peter,^  nor  the  rest, 
Or  gold  or  silver  of  Matthias  took, 
When  lots  were  cast  upon  the  forfeit  place 
Of  the  condemned  soul.*    Abide  thou  then; 
Thy  punishment  of  right  is  merited  : 
And  look  thou  well  to  that  ill-gotten  coin. 
Which  against  Charles^  thy  hardihood  inspired. 
If  reverence  of  the  keys  restrain'd  me  not. 
Which  thou  fn  happier  time  didst  hold,  I  yet 
Severer  speech  might  use.     Your  avarice 
O'ercasts  the  world  with  mourning,  under  foot^ 
Treading  the  good,  and  raising  bad  men  up. 
Of  shepherds  like  to  you,  the  Evangelist^ 
Was  ware,  when  her,  who  sits  upon  the  waves. 


'  A  ntvf  Jason. — "  But  after  the  death  of  Seleucus, 
when  Antiochus,  called  Epiphanes,  took  the  kingdom, 
Jason,  the  brother  of  Onias,  laboured  underhand  to  be 
high-priest,  promising  unto  the  king,  by  intercession, 
three  hundred  and  threescore  talents  of  silver,  and  of 
another  revenue  eighty  talents."—  2  Mace.  iv.  7,  8. 

•  0/  Frances  monarch. — Philip  IV.  of  France.  See 
G.  Villani,  lib.  viii.,  c.  Ixxx. 

•  Nor  Peter. — Acts  i.  26. 

•  The  condemned  soul.— ]\idas. 

•  Against  Charles. — Nicholas  III.  was  enraged  against 
Charles  I.,  King  of  Sicily,  because  he  rejected  with  scorii 
a  proposition  made  by  that  pope  for  an  alliance  between 
their  families.     See  G.  Villani,  "  Hist.,"  lib.  vii.,  c.  liv. 

•  Underfoot. — 

"  So  shall  the  world  go  on. 
To  good  malignant,  to  bad  men  benign." 

Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  b.  xii.,  538. 
'  The  Evangelist. — Rev.  xvii.  I,  2,  3.  Petrarch,  in  one 
of  his  Epistles,  had  his  eye  on  these  line?  :  "  Gaiide 
(inquam)  ct  ad  aliquid  utilis  inventa  gloriare  bonorum 
hostis  et  malorum  hospes,  atque  asylum  pessiina  rerum 
Babylon  feris,  Rhodani  ripis  imposila,  famosa  dicam  an 
infantit    meretrix,  fornicata   cum    regibus   terra.     Ilia 


equidem  ipsa  es  quam  in  spiritu  sacer  vidit  Evangelista. 
Ilia  eadem,  inquam,  es,  non  alia,  sedens  super  aquas 
multas,  sive  ad  littora  tribus  cincta  flitminibus  sive  rerum 
atque  divitiarum  turba  m'ortaliuin  quibus  lasciviens  ac 
secura  insides  opiim  immemor  aternarum  sive  ut  idem 
qui  vidit,  exposuit.  Populi  et  gentes  et  linguae  aqua  sunt, 
super  quas  meretrix  sedes,  recognosce  habitum,"  &c. — 
Petrarcha  Opera,  ed.  fol.  Basil,  1 554,  Epist.  sine  litulo 
Liber,  ep.  xvi.,  p.  729.  The  text  is  here  probably  cor- 
rupted. The  construction  certainly  may  be  rendered 
easier  by  omitting  the  cut  before  littora,  and  substituting 
a  comma  for  a  full  stop  after  exposuit.  With  all  the 
respect  that  is  due  to  a  venerable  prelate  and  truly  learned 
critic,  I  cannot  but  point  out  a  mistake  he  has  fallen  into, 
relating  to  this  passage,  when  he  observes  that  "number- 
less passages  in  the  writings  of  Petrarch  speak  of  Rome 
under  the  name  of  Babylon.  But  an  equal  stress  is  not 
to  be  laid  on  all  these.  It  should  be  remembered  that 
the  popes,  in  Petrarch's  time,  resided  at  Avignon,  greatly 
to  the  disparagement  of  themselves,  as  he  thought,  and 
especially  of  Rome  ;  of  which  this  singular  man  was  little 
less  than  idolatrous.  The  situation  of  the  place,  sur- 
rounded by  waters,  and  his  splenetic  concern  for  the 
txiled  church  (for  under  this  idea  he  painted  to  himself 


I02 


THE   VISION. 


Ill— 130 


With  kings  in  filthy  whoredom  he  beheld; 

She  who  with  seven  heads  tower'd  at  her  birth, 

And  from  ten  horns  her  proof  of  glory  drew, 

Long  as  her  spouse  in  virtue  took  delight. 

Of  gold  and  silver  ye  have  made  your  god, 

Differing  wherein  from  the  idolater, 

But  that  he  worships  one,  a  hundred  ye? 

Ah,  ConstantineP   to  how  much  ill  gave  birth, 

Not  thy  conversion,  but  that  plenteous  dower, 

Which  the  first  wealthy  Father  gain'd  from  thee." 

Meanwhile,  as  thus  I  sung,  he,  whether  wrath 
Or  conscience  smote  him,  violent  upsprang 
Spinning  on  either  sole.     I  do  believe 
My  teacher  well  was  pleased,  with  so  composed 
A  lip  he  listen'd  ever  to  the  sound 
Of  the  true  words  I  utter'd.     In  both  arms 
He  caught,  and,  to  his  bosom  lifting  me, 
Upward  retraced  the  way  of  his  descent. 

Nor  weary  of  his  weight,  he  press'd  me  close. 
Till  to  the  summit  of  the  rock  we  came, 


the  Pope's  migration  to  the  banks  of  Avignon),  brought 
to  his  mind  the  condition  of  the  Jewish  Church  in  the 
Babylonian  captivity  ;  and  this  parallel  was  all,  perhaps, 
that  he  meant  to  insinuate  in  most  of  those  passages.  But 
when  he  applies  the  prophecies  to  Rome,  as  to  the  Apo- 
calyptic  Babylon  (as  he  clearly  does  in  the  epistle  under  <■ 
consideration),  his  meaning  is  not  equivocal,  and  we  do 
him  but  justice  to  give  him  an  honourable  place  among 
the  TESTES  VERITATIS."— .,4«  Introduction  to  the  Study 
of  the  Prophecies^  Sr'c,  by  Richard  Htird,  D.D.,  serm.  vii., 
p.  239,  note  Y,  ed.  1772.  Now,  a  reference  to  the  words 
printed  in  italics,  which  the  Bishop  of  Worcester  has 
omitted  in  his  quotation,  will  make  it  sufficiently  evident 
that  Avignon,  and  not  Roine,  is  here  alluded  to  by  ^ 
Petrarch.  The  application  that  is  made  of.  these  prophe- 
cies by  two  men  so  eminent  for  their  learning  and  sagacity 
as  Dante  and  Petrarch  is,  however,  very  remarkable,  and 
must  be  satisfactory  to  those  who  have  renounced  the 
errors  and  corruptions  of  the  Papacy.  Such  applications 
were  indeed  frequent  in  the  middle  ages,  as  may  be  seen 
in  the  "Sermons"  above  referred  to.  Balbo  observes 
that  it  is  not  Rome,  as  most  erroneously  interpreted,  but 
Avignon,  and  the  court  there,  that  is  termed  Babylon  by 
Dante  and  Petrarch.     "Vita  di  Dante,"  v.  ii.,  p.  103. 

'  Ah,  CoHstantine  I — He  alludes  to  the  pretended  gift 
of  the  Lateran  by  Constantine  to  Sylvester,  of  which 
Dante  himself  seems,  to  imply  a  doubt,  in  his  treatise  "  De 
Monarchia  :"  "  Ergo  scindere  Imperium,  Imperatori  non 
licet  Si  ergo  aliqux  dignitates  per  Constantinum  essent 
alienatae  (ut  dicunt)  ab  Imperio,"  &c.    Lib.  iii.     "  There- 


fore, to  make  a  rent  in  the  empire  exceeds  the  lawful 
power  of  the  emperor  himself.  If,  then,  some  dignities 
were  by  Constantine  alienated  (as  they  report)  from  the 
empire,"  &c  In  another  part  of  the  same  treatise  he 
speaks  of  the  alienation  with  less  doubt  indeed,  but  not 
with  less  disapprobation  :  "O  felicein  populum  !  O  Auso- 
niam  te  gloriosam  !  si  vel  numquam  infirmator  imperii 
tui  extitisset ;  vel  numquam  sua  pia  intentio  ipsum  fe- 
fellisset."  "  Oh,  happy  people !  Oh,  glorious  Italy  !  if 
either  he  who  thus  weakened  thine  empire  had  never  been 
born,  or  had  never  suffered  his  pious  intentions  to  mislead 
him."  Lib.  ii.,  ad  Jinem.  The  gift  is  by  Ariosto  very 
humorously  placed  in  the  moon,  among  the  things  lost 
or  abused  on  earth : 

"  Di  varj  fiori  ad  un  gran  monte  passa, 
Ch'  ebber  gia  buono  odore,  or  puzzan  forte, 
Questo  era  il  dono  (se  pero  dir  lece) 
Che  Costantino  al  buon  Silvestro  fece." 

Orlando  Furioso,  c  xxxiv.,  st.  80. 

Milton  has  translated  both  this  passage  and  that  in  the 
text.     Prose  Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  1 1,  ed.  1753 : 

"Ah,  Constantine  !  of  how  much  ill  was  cause 
Not  thy  conversion,  but  those  rich  domains 
That  the  first  wealthy  pope  received  of  thee. 
Then  pass'd  he  to  a  flowery  mountain  green. 
Which  once  smelt  sweet,  now  stinks  as  odiously; 
This  was  that  gift,  if  you  the  truth  will  have, 
That  Constantine  to  good  Silvester  gave." 


13«— '35- 


HELL. CANTO  XIX.  IO3 


Our  passage  from  the  fourth  to  the  fifth  pier. 
His  cherish'd  burden  there  gently  he  placed 
Upon  the  rugged  rock  and  steep,  a  path 
Not  easy  for  the  clambering  goat  to  mount. 
Thence  to  my  view  another  vale  appeax'd. 


CANTO     XX. 


ARGUMENT. 

The  poet  relates  the  punishment  of  such  as  presumed,  while  living,  to  predict  future  events.  It  is  to  have  their  faces 
reversed  and  set  the  contrary  way  on  their  limbs,  so  that,  being  deprived  of  the  power  to  see  before  them,  they  are 
constrained  ever  to  walk  backwards.  Among  these  Virgil  points  out  to  him  Amphiaraiis,  Tiresias,  Aruns,  and 
Manto  (from  the  mention  of  whom  he  takes  occasion  to  speak  of  the  origin  of  Mantua),  toeether  with  several  others, 
who  had  practised  the  arts  of  divination  and  astrology. 

A  ND  now  the  verse  proceeds  to  torments  new, 
Fit  argument  of  this  the  twentieth  strain 
Of  the  first  song,  whose  awful  theme  records 
The  spirits  whelm'd  in  woe.     Earnest  I  look'd 
Into  the  depth,  that  open'd  to  my  view, 
Moisten'd  with  tears  of  anguish,  and  beheld 
A  tribe,  that  came  along  the  hollow  vale. 
In  silence  weeping:   such  their  step  as  walk 
Quires,  chanting  solemn  litanies,  on  earth. 

As  on  them  more  direct  mine  eye  descends. 
Each  wonderously  seem'd  to  be  reversed* 
At  the  neck-bone,  so  that  the  countenance 
Was  from  the  reins  averted ;   and  because 
None  might  before  him  look,  they  were  compell'd 
To  advance  with  backward  gait.     Thus  one  perhaps 
Hath  been  by  force  of  palsy  clean  transposed, 
But  I  ne'er  saw  it  nor  believe  it  so. 

Now,  reader!   think  within  thyself,  so  God 
Fruit  of  thy  reading  give  thee  I   how  I  long 
Could  keep  my  visage  dry,'*  when  I  beheld 


Reversed. —  Both  feet  and  face  one  way  are  wont  to  lead." 


'But  very  uncouth  sight  was  to  behold 
How  he  did  fashion  his  untoward  pace  ; 
For  as  he  forward  moved  his  footing  old. 
So  backward  still  was  turn'd  his  wrinkled  face } 
Unlike  to  men,  who,  ever  as  they  trace, 


Spenser,  Fairy  Queen,  b.  i.,  c.  viii.,  St.  31. 
'  How  I  long  could  keep  my  visage  dry. — 
"  Siglit  so  deform  what  heart  of  man  could  long 
Dry-eyed  behold  ?    Adam  could  not,  but  wept." 

Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  b.  xi.,  495. 


2J— 45 


HELL. CiVNTO   XX. 


105 


Near  me  our  form  distorted  in  such  guise, 
That  on  the  hinder  parts  fallen  from  the  face 
The  tears  down-streaming  roll'd.     Against  a  rock 
I  leant  and  wept,  so  that  my  guide  exclaim'd, 
"  What  I  and  art  thou,  too,  witless  as  the  rest  ? 
Here  pity  most  doth  show  herself  alive, 
When  she  is  dead.     What  guilt  exceedeth  his, 
Who  with  Heavens  judgment  in  his  passion  strives? 
Raise  up  thy  head,  raise  up,  and  see  the  man 
Before  whose  eyes'  earth  gaped  in  Thebes,  when  all 
Cried  out  '  Amphiaraiis,  whither  rushest? 
Why  leavest  thou  the  war?'     He  not  the  less 
Fell  ruining"^  far  as  to  Minos  down. 
Whose  grapple  none  eludes.      Lo  I  how  he  makes 
The  breast  his  shoulders;    and  who  once  too  far 
Before  him  wish'd  to  see,  now  backward  looks, 
And  treads  reverse  his  path.      Tiresias^  note, 
Who  semblance  changed,  when  woman  he  became 
Of  male,  through  every  limb  transform'd ;   and  then 
Once  more  behoved  him  with  his  rod  to  strike 
The  two  entwining  serpents,  ere  the  plumes, 
That  mark'd  the  better  sex,  might  shoot  again. 
"  Aruns,*  with  rere  his  belly  facing,  comes. 
On  Luni's  mountains  'midst  the  marbles  white, 
Where  delves  Carrara's  hind,  who  wons  beneath, 


'  Be/ore  whose  O'"-— Amphiaraiis,  one  of  the  seven 
kings  who  besieged  Thebes.  He  is  said  to  have  been 
swallowed  up  by  an  opening  of  the  earth.  See  Lidgate's 
"Storie  of  Thebes,"  part  iii.,  where  it  is  told  how  the 
"  Bishop  Amphiaraiis  "  fell  down  to  hell : 

"  And  thus  the  devill,  for  his  outrages, 
Like  his  desert  payed  him  his  wages." 

A  different  reason  for  his  being  doomed  thus  to  perish  is 
assigned  by  Pindar: 

"of  •j»;i0<ap)ji,"  &c.     A'em.,  ix. 

"  For  thee,  Amphiaraiis,  earth, 
By  Jove's  all-riving  thunder  cleft, 
Her  mighty  bosom  open'd  wide, 
Thee  and  thy  plunging  steeds  to  hide, 
Or  ever  on  thy  back  the  spear 
Of  Periclymenus  impress'd 
A  wound  to  shame  thy  warlike  breast 
For  struck  with  panic  fear 
The  gods'  own  children  flee." 


'  Ruining.  —  "  Ruinare."      Hence,    perhaps,    Milton, 
"  Paradise  Lost,"  b.  vi.,  868  : 

"  Heaven  ruining  from  heaven." 
'  Tiresias. — 

"  Duo  magnorum  viridi  coeuntia  sylva 
Corpora  serpentum  baculi  violaverat  ictu, 
Deque  viro  factus  (mirabile)  foemina,  septem 
Egerat  autumnos.     Octavo  rursus  eosdem 
Vidit     Et,  est  vestras  si  tanta  potentia  plagae, 
Nunc  quoque  vos  feriam.     Percussis  anguibus  isdem 
Forma  prior  rediit,  genitivaque  venit  imago." 

Oviti,  Metamorphoses,  lib.  iii. 
*  Anins. — Aruns  is  said  to  have  dwelt  in  the  mountains 
of  Luni  (from  whence  that  territory  is  still  called  Luni- 
giana),  above  Carrara,  celebrated  for  its  marble.  Lucan, 
"  Pharsalia,"  hb.  i.,  575.  So  Boccaccio,  in  the  "  Fiam- 
metta,"  lib.  iii.  :  "  Quale  Arunte,"  &c.  "  Like  Aruns,  who, 
amidst  the  white  marbles  of  Luni,  contemplated  the 
celestial  bodies  and  their  molions."  Compare  Fazio  degli 
Uberti,  "  Dittamondo,"  1.  iii.,  cap.  vL 


io6 


THE   VISION. 


46-72. 


A  cavern  was  his  dwelling,  whence  the  stars 
And  main  sea  wide  in  boundless  view  he  held. 

"  The  next,  whose  loosen'd  tresses  overspread 
Her  bosom,  which  thou  seest  not  (for  each  hair 
On  that  side  grows)  was  Manto,^  she  who  search 'd 
Through  many  regions,  and  at  length  her  seat 
Fix'd  in  my  native  land :    whence  a  short  space 
My  words  detain  thy  audience.      When  her  sire 
From  life  departed,  and  in  servitude 
The  city  dedicate  to  Bacchus  mourn'd, 
Long  time  she  went  a  wanderer  through  the  world. 
Aloft  in  Italy's  delightful  land 
A  lake  there  lies,  at  foot  of  that  proud  Alp 
That  o'er  the  Tyrol  locks  Germania  in, 
Its  name  Benacus,  from  whose  ample  breast 
A  thousand  springs,  methinks,  and  more,  between 
Camonica^  and  Garda,  issuing  forth, 
Water  the  Apennine.      There  is  a  spot* 
At  midway  of  that  lake,  where  he  who  bears 
Of  Trento's  flock  the  pastoral  staff,  with  him 
Of  Brescia,  and  the  Veronese,  might  each 
Passing  that  way  his  benediction  give. 
A  garrison  of  goodly  site  and  strong* 
Peschiera^  stands,  to  awe  with  front  opposed 
The  Bergamese  and  Brescian,  whence  the  shore 
More  slope  each  way  descends.      There,  whatsoe'er 
Benacus'  bosom  holds  not,  tumbling  o'er 


'  Manto. — The  daughter  of  Tiresias  of  Thebes,  a  city 
dedicated  to  Bacchus.  From  Manto,  Mantua,  the  country 
of  Virgil,  derives  its  name.  The  poet  proceeds  to  describe 
the  situation  of  that  place. 

'  Camonica.—  Lombardi,  instead  of 


reads, 


"  Fra  Garda,  e  val  Camonica  e  Apennino," 
"  Fra  Garda  e  val  Camonica  Pennino," 


from  the  Nidobeatina  edition  (to  which  he  might  have 
added  that  of  Vellutello  in  1544),  and  two  MSB.,  all  of 
which  omit  the  second  conjunction,  the  only  part  of  the 
alteration  that  affects  the  sense.  I  have  re-translated  the 
passage,  which  in  the  former  editions  stood  thus  : 

"  Which  a  thousand  rills 
Methinks,  and  more,  water  between  the  vale 


Camonica  and  Garda,  and  the  height 

Of  Apennine  remote." 
It  should  be  added  that  Vellutello  reads  "  Valdimonica  " 
for  "  Val  Camonica; "  but  which  of  these  is  right  remains 
to  be  determined  by  a  collation  of  editions  and  MSS., 
and  still  more  perhaps  by  a  view  of  the  country  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  lake  (now  called  the  Lagodi  Garda), 
with  a  reference  to  this  passage. 

'  There  is  a  spot. — Prato  di  Fame,  where  the  dioceses 
of  Trento,  Verona,  and  Brescia  meet. 

*  A  garrisoH  0/ goodly  site  and  strong. — 

"  Gaza,  bello  e  forte  arnese 
Da  fronteggiar  i  regni  di  Soria." 

Tasso,  Gierusalemme  Liberata,  c.  i.,  st.  67. 

•  Peschiera. — A  garrison  situated  to  the  south  of  the 
lake,  where  it  empties  itself  and  forms  the  Mincius. 


^ 


73-104.  HELL. — CANTO   XX.  IO7 

Down  falls,  and  winds  a  river  flood  beneath 
Through  the  green  pastures.     Soon  as  in  his  course 
The  stream  makes  head,  Benacus  then  no  more 
They  call  the  name,  but  Mincius,  till  at  last 
Reaching  Governo,  into  Po  he  falls. 
Not  far  his  course  hath  run,  when  a  wide  flat 
It  finds,  which  overstretching  as  a  marsh 
It  covers,  pestilent  in  summer  oft. 
Hence  journeying,  the  savage  maiden  saw 
Midst  of  the  fen  a  territory  waste 
And  naked  of  inhabitants.     To  shun 
All  human  converse,  here  she  with  her  slaves, 
Plying  her  arts,  remain'd,  and  lived,  and  left 
Her  body  tenantless.      Thenceforth  the  tribes, 
Who  round  were  scatter'd,  gathering  to  that  place, 
Assembled  ;    for  its  strength  was  great,  enclosed 
On  all  parts  by  the  fen.     On  those  dead  bones 
They  rear'd  themselves  a  city,  for  her  sake 
Calling  it  Mantua,  who  first  chose  the  spot, 
Nor  ask'd  another  omen  for  the  name ; 
Wherein  more  numerous  the  people  dwelt, 
Ere  Casalodi's  madness'  by  deceit 
Was  wrong'd  of  Pinamonte.     If  thou  hear 
Henceforth  another  origin^  assign'd 
Of  that  my  country,  I  forewarn  thee  now, 
That  falsehood  none  beguile  thee  of  the  truth." 
I  answer'd,  "Teacher,  I  conclude  thy  words 
So  certain,  that  all  else  shall  be  to  me 
As  embers  lacking  life.      Bui  now  of  these, 
Who  here  proceed,  instruct  me,  if  thou  see 
Any  that  merit  more  especial  note. 
For  thereon  is  my  mind  alone  intent." 


'  CasalodCs  madness. — Alberto  da  Casalodi,  who  had  out  Casalodi  and  his  adherents,  and  obtained  the  sove- 

got  possession  of  Mantua,  was  persuaded,  by  Pinamonte  reignty  for  himself. 

Buonacossi,  that  he   might  ingratiate   himself  with   the  '  Another  origin. —  Lombardi  refers  to  Servius  on  the 

people,  by  banishing  to  their  own  castles  the  nobles,  who  Tenth  Book  of  the  "yEnc-id  :"  "  Alii  a  Tarchone  Tyrrheni 

were  obnoxious  to  them.      No  sooner  was  this  dor.e,  than  i      fratre  conditam  dicunt  Mantuam  autem  ideo  nominatam 

Pinamonte  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  populace,  drove  '      quia  Etrusca  lingua  Mantum  ditem  patrem  appellant'" 


io8 


THE    VISION. 


105— 1 18. 


He  straight  replied:   "That  spirit,  from  whose  cheek 
The  beard  sweeps  o'er  his  shoulders  brown,  what  time 
Graecia  was  emptied  of  her  males,  that  scarce 
The  cradles  were  supplied,  the  seer  was  he 
In  Aulis,  who  with  Calchas  gave  the  sign 
When  first  to  cut  the  cable.      Him  they  named 
Eurypilus  :   so  sings  my  tragic  strain.' 
In  which  majestic  measure  well  thou  know'st, 
Who  know'st  it  all.     That  other,  round  the  loins 
So  slender  of  his  shape,  was  Michael  Scot,* 
Practised  in  every  slight  of  magic  wile. 

"Guido  fionatti*  see:  Asdente*  mark, 
Who  now  were  willing  he  had  tended  still 
The  thread  and  cordwain,  and  too  late  repents. 


'  So  sings  my  tragic  strain. — 
"  Suspensi  Eurypilum  scitatum  oracula  Phcebi 

Mittimus."  Virgil,  jEneid,  ii.  14. 

'  Michael  Scot. — "  Egli  non  ha  ancora  guari,  che  in 
questa  citta  fu  un  gran  maestro  in  negromanzia,  il  quale 
ebbe  nome  Michele  Scotto,  percio  che  di  Scozia  era." — 
Boccaccio,  Decameron,  Giorn.  viii.,  Nov.  -9.  "  It  is  not 
long  since  there  was  in  this  city  (Florence)  a  great  master 
in  necromancy,  who  was  called  Michele  Scotto,  because 
he  was  from  Scotland."  See  also  G.  Villani,  "  Hist.,"  lib. 
X.,  cap.  cv.  and  cxli.,  and  lib.  xii.,  cap.  xviii. ;  and  Fazio 
degli  Uberti,  "  Dittamondo,"  1.  ii.,  cap.  xxvii.  I  make  no 
apology  for  adding  the  following  curious  particulars  ex- 
tracted from  the  notes  to  Mr.  Scott's  "  Lay  of  the  Last 
Minstrel,"  a  poem  in  which  a  happy  use  is  made  of  the 
superstitions  relating  to  the  subject  of  this  note  :— "  Sir 
Michael  Scott,  of  Balwearie,  flourished  during  the  thir- 
teenth century,  and  was  one  of  the  ambassadors  sent  to 
bring  the  Maid  of  Norway  to  Scotland  upon  the  death  of 
Alexander  1 1 L  He  was  a  man  of  much  learning,  chieily 
acquired  in  foreign  countries.  He  wrote  a  commentary 
upon  Aristotle,  printed  at  Venice  in  1496,  and  several 
treatises  upon  natural  philosophy,  from  which  he  appears 
to  have  been  addicted  to  the  abstruse  studies  of  judicial 
astrology,  alchemy,  physiognomy,  and  chiromancy.  Hence 
he  passed  among  his  contemporaries  for  a  skilful  magician. 
Dempster  informs  us  that  he  remembers  to  have  beard 
in  his  youth,  that  the  magic  books  of  Michael  Scott  were 
still  in  existence,  but  could  not  be  opened  without  danger, 
on  account  of  the  fiends  who  were  thereby  invoked. 
Dcmpsteri,  'Historia  Ecclesiastica,'  1627,  lib.  xii.,  p.  495. 
Leslie  characterises  Michael  Scott  as  'Singular!  philo- 
sophise astronomix  ac  medicinx  laude  prsestans,  dicebatur 
penitissimos  magix  recessus  indagasse.'  A  personage 
thus  spoken  of  by  biographers  and  historians  loses  little 
of  his  mystical  fame  in  vulgar  tradition.  Accordingly,  the 
memory  of  Sir  Michael  Scott  survives  in  many  a  legend  ; 
and  in  the  south  of  Scotland  any  work  of  great  labour 
and  antiquity  is  ascribed  either  to  the  agency  of  Auld 
Michael,  of  Sir  William  Wallace,  or  of  the  devil.  Tradi- 
tion varies  concerning  the  place  of  his  burial :    some 


contend  for  Holme  Coltrame,  in  Cumberland,  others  for 
Melrose  Abbey:  but  all  agree  that  his  books  of  magic, 
were  interred  in  his  grave,  or  preserved  in  the  convent 
where  he  died." — The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,  by  Walter 
Scott,  Esq.,  Lond.,  4to,  1805,  p.  234,  notes.  Mr.  Warton, 
speaking  of  the  new  translations  of  Aristotle,  from  the 
original  Greek  into  Latin,  about  the  twelfth  century, 
observes  :  "  I  believe  the  translators  understood  very 
little  Greek.  Our  countryman,  Michael  Scotus,  was  one 
of  the  first  of  them  ;  who  was  assisted  by  Andrew,  a  Jew. 
Michael  was  astrologer  to  Frederic  II.,  Emperor  of 
Germany,  and  appears  to  have  executed  his  translations 
at  Toledo,  in  Spain,  about  the  year  1220.  These  new 
versions  were  perhaps  little  more  than  corrections  from 
those  of  the  early  Arabians,  made  under  the  inspection  of 
the  learned  Spanish  Saracens."  —  History  of  English 
Poetry,  vol.  i.,  dissert,  ii.,  and  sect,  ix.,  p.  292.  Among 
the  Canonici  MSS.  in  the  Bodleian,  I  have  seen  (No.  520) 
the  astrological  works  of  Michael  Scot,  on  vellum,  with  an 
illuminated  portrait  of  him  at  the  beginning. 

'  Guido  Bonatti. — A"  astrologer  of  Forli,  on  whose 
skill  Guido  da  Montefeltro,  lord  of  that  place,  so  much 
relied,  that  he  is  reported  never  to  have  gone  into  battle, 
except  in  the  hour  recommended  to  hira  as  fortunate  by 
Bonatti.  Landino  and  VellutcUo  speak  of  a  book  which 
he  composed  on  the  subject  of  his  art.  MacchiavelU  men- 
tions him  in  the  "  History  of  Florence,"  L  i.,  p.  24,  ed. 
1550.  "He  flourished  about  1230  and  1260.  Though  a 
learned  astronomer,  he  was  seduced  by  astrology,  through 
which  he  was  greatly  in  favour  with  many  princes  of  that 
time.  His  many  works  are  miserably  spoiled  by  it." — 
Bettinelli,  Risorgimento  d' Italia,  t.  i.,  p.  118,  8vo,  1786. 
He  is  referred  to  in  Brown's  "  Vulgar  Errors,"  b.  iv.,  c  xii. 

*  Asdente. — A  shoemaker  at  Parma,  who  deserted  his 
business  to  practise  the  arts  of  divination.  How  much 
this  man  had  attracted  the  public  notice  appears  from 
a  passage  in  our  author's  "Convito,"  where  it  is  said, 
in  speaking  of  the  derivation  of  the  word  "  noble,"  that 
"  if  those  who  were  best  known  were  accounted  the  most 
noble,  Asdente,  the  shoemaker  of  Parma,  would  be  more 
noble  than  any  one  in  that  city." 


119— 128.  HELL. CANTO   XX.  IO9 

"  See  next  the  wretches,  who  the  needle  left, 
The  shuttle  and  the  spindle,  and  became 
Diviners  :    baneful  witcheries  they  wrought 
With  images  and  herbs.     But  onward  now : 
For  now  doth  Cain  with  fork  of  thorns^  confine 
On  either  hemisphere,  touching  the  wave 
^   Beneath  the  towers  of  Seville.     Yesternight 

The  moon  was  round.      Thou  mayst  remember  well : 

For  she  good  service  did  thee  in  the  gloom 

Of  the  deep  wood."      This  said,  both  onward  moved. 


•  Cain  with  fork  of  thorns. — By  Cain  and  the  thorns,  or  \  reader  may  consult  Brand  on  "  Popular  Antiquities,"  4to, 
what  is  still  vulgarly  called  the  Man  in  the  Moon,  the  I  1813,  vol:  ii.,  p.  476,and  Douce's  "  Illustrations  of  Shake- 
poet  denotes  that  luminary.     The  same  superstition  is  !  speare,"  8vo,  1807,  v.  i.,  p.  l& 
alluded  to  in  the  "  Paradise,"  canto  ii.  52.     The  curious  | 


CANTO     XXI. 


ARGUMENT. 

Still  «n  the  eighth  circle,  whi:h  bears  the  name  of  Malebolge,  they  look  down  from  the  bridge  that  passes  over  its  fifth 
gulf,  upon  the  barterers  or  public  peculators.  These  are  plunged  in  a  lake  of  boiling  pitch,  and  guarded  by  demons, 
to  whom  Virgil,  leaving  Dante  apart,  presents  himself;  and  licence  being  obtained  to  pass  onward,  both  pursue 
their  way. 

T^HUS  we  from  bridge  to  bridge,  with  other  talk, 

■*■       The  which  my  drama  cares  not  to  rehearse, 
Pass'd  on  ;  and  to  the  summit  reaching,  stood 
To  view  another  gap,  within  the  round 
Of  Malebolge,  other  bootless  pangs. 

Marvellous  darkness  shadow'd  o'er  the  place. 

In  the  Venetians'  arsenal'  as  boils 
Through  wintry  months  tenacious  pitch,  to  smear 
Their  unsound  vessels  ;    for  the  inclement  time 
Sea-faring  men  restrains,  and  in  that  while 
His  barque  one  builds  anew,  another  stops 
The  ribs  of  his  that  hath  made  many  a  voyage, 
One  hammers  at  the  prow,  one  at  the  poop. 
This  shapeth  oars,  that  other  cables  twirls, 
The  mizen  one  repairs,  and  main-sail  rent ; 
So,  not  by  force  of  fire  but  art  divine, 
Boil'd"^  here  a  glutinous  thick  mass,  that  round 
Limed  all  the  shore  beneath.     I  that  beheld, 
But  therein  nought  distinguish'd,  save  the  bubbles 
Raised  by  the  boiling,  and  one  mighty  swell 
Heave,*  and  by  turns  subsiding  fall.     While  there 


'  Jm  the  Venetians^  arsenal. — 

"  Come  dentr"  ai  Navai  delta  gran  terra, 
Tra  le  lacune  del  mar  d'Adria  posta, 
Serban  la  pece  la  togata  gente, 
Ad  uso  di  lor  navi  e  di  lor  triremi ; 
Per  solcar  poi  sicuri  il  mare  ondoso,"  &c. 

Ruccetlai.  Le  Apt,  v.  165. 


Dryden  seems  to  have  had  the  passage  in  the  text  before 
him  in  his  "  Annus  Mirabilis,"  st.  146,  &c. 

'  Boil'd. — "  Vidi  flumcn  magno  de  Inferno  procedere 
ardens,  atque  piceum." — Alberici  Visio,  §  xvii. 

'  One  mighty  swell  heave.  —  "  Vidi  etiam  os  putei 
magnum  flammas  emittentem,  et  nunc  sursum  nunc 
deorsum  descendentem." — Alberici  Visio,  §  xL 


."H 
'a 


22      S3- 


HELL. CANTO    XXI. 


ill 


I  fix'd  my  ken  below,  "Mark!  mark!"   my  guide 
Exclaiming,  drew  me  towards  him  from  the  place 
Wherein  I  stood.     I  turn'd  myself,  as  one 
Impatient  to  behold  that  which  beheld 
He  needs  must  shun,  whom  sudden  fear  unmans, 
That  he  his  flight  delays  not  for  the  view. 
Behind  me  I  discern'd  a  devil  black. 
That  running  up  advanced  along  the  rock. 
Ah  I   what  fierce  cruelty  his  look  bespake. 
In  act  how  bitter  did  he  seem,  with  wings 
Buoyant  outstretch'd  and^  feet  of  nimblest  tread. 
His  shoulder,  proudly  eminent  and  sharp, 
Was  with  a  sinner  charged;   by  either  haunch 
He  held  him,  the  foot's  sinew  griping  fast. 

"Ye  of  our  bridge  I"   he  cried,  "  keen-talon'd  fiends  I 
Lo  I   one  of  Santa  Zita's  elders.'     Him 
Whelm  ye  beneath,  while  I  return  for  more. 
That  land  hath  store  of  such.     All  men  are  there, 
Except  Bonturo,  barterers  :^  of  '  no ' 
For  lucre  there  an  'ay'  is  quickly  made." 

Him  dashing  down,  o'er  the  rough  rock  he  turn'd ; 
Nor  ever  after  thief  a  mastiff  loosed 
Sped  with  like  eager  haste.     That  other  sank, 
And  forthwith  writhing  to  the  surface  rose. 
But  those  dark  demons,  shrouded  by  the  bridge, 
Cried,  "  Here  the  hallow'd  visage*  saves  not :   here 
Is  other  swimming  than  in  Serchio's  wave,* 
Wherefore,  if  thou  desire  we  rend  thee  not, 
Take  heed  thou  mount  not  o'er  the  pitch."     This  said, 
They  grappled  him  with  more  than  hundred  hooks, 
And  shouted,  "  Cover'd  thou  must  sport  thee  here ; 
So,  if  thou  canst,  in  secret  mayst  thou  filch." 


•  One  of  Santa  Zita's  elders.— The  elders  or  chief 
magistrates  of  Lucca,  where  Santa  Zita  was  held  in  es- 
pecial veneration.  The  name  of  this  sinner  is  supposed 
to  have  been  Martino  Bataio. 

'  Except  Bonturo,  barterers. — This  is  said  ironically  of 
Bonturo  de'  Dati.  By  barterers  are  meant  peculators  of 
every  description  ;  all  who  traffic  the  interests  of  the 
public  for  their  own  private  advantage. 


'  The  hallo-ufd  visage. — A  representation  of  the  head 
of  our  Saviour  worshipped  at  Lucca. 

*  Is  other  swimming  than  in  Serchio's  wave. — 

"  Qui  si  nuota  altrimenti  che  nel  Serchio." 

Serchio   is  the   river  that   flows  by  Lucca.      So  Pulci. 
"  Morgante  Maggiore,"  c.  xxiv.  : 

"  Qui  si  nuota  nel  sangue,  e  non  nel  Serchio.' 


112  THE   VISION,  54-8S. 

E'en  thus  the  cobk  bestirs  him,  with  his  grooms, 
To  thrust  the  flesh'  into  the  caldron  down 
With  flesh-hooks,  that  it  float  not  on  the  top. 

m 

Me  then  my  guide  bespake :   "  Lest  they  descry 
That  thou  art  here,  behind  a  craggy  rock 
Bend  low  and  screen  thee:   and  whate'er  of  force 
Be  offer'd  me,  or  insult,  fear  thou  not; 
For  I  am  well  advised,  who  have  been  erst 
In  the  like  fray,"     Beyond  the  bridge's  head 
Therewith  he  pass'd ;   and  reaching  the  sixth  pier, 
Behoved  him  then  a  forehead  terror-proof. 

With  storm  and  fury,  as  when  dogs  rush  forth 
Upon  the  poor  man's  back,  who  suddenly 
From  whence  he  standeth  makes  his  suit ;    so  rush'd 
Those  from'  beneath  the  arch,  and  against  him 
Their  weapons  all  they  pointed.     He,  aloud: 
"  Be  none  of  you  outrageous :   ere  your  tine 
Dare  seize  me,  come  forth  from  amongst  you  one, 
Who  having  heard  my  words,  decide  he  then 
If  he  shall  tear  these  limbs."     They  shouted  loud 
"Go,  Malacoda!"      Whereat  one  advanced. 
The  others  standing  firm,  and  as  he  came, 
"What  may  this  turn  avail  him?"   he  exclaim'd. 

"  Believest  thou,  Malacoda!    I  had  come 
Thus  far  from  all  your  skirmishing  secure," 
My  teacher  answer'd,  "  without  will  divine 
And  destiny  propitious  ?      Pass  we  then  ; 
For  so  Heaven's  pleasure  is,  that  I  should  lead 
Another  through  this  savage  wilderness." 

Forthwith  so  fell  his  pride,  that  he  let  drop 
The  instrument  of  torture  at  his  feet, 
And  to  the  rest  exclaim'd,  "  We  have  no  power 
To  strike  him."    Then  to  me  my  guide :    "  Oh,  thou  I 
Who  on  the  bridge  among  the  crags  dost  sit 
Low  crouching,  safely  now  to  me  return." 


'  7X'y?'-fA-— "  In  eundem  flumen  corruunt:  rursumque      I      antur,  donee  in  morem  carnium  excocti,"  &c. — Albertci 
assurgentes,  ac  denuo  recidentes,  tamdiu   ibidem  cruci-      |       I'isio,  §  xvii. 


89—117.  HELL. CANTO   XXL  T  I3 

I  rose,  and  towards  him  moved  with  speed  ;   the  jEiends 
Meantime  all  forward  drew :    me  terror  seized. 
Lest  they  should  break  the  compact  they  had  made. 
Thus  issuing  from  Caprona,^  once  I  saw 
The  infantry,  dreading  lest  his  covenant 
The  foe  should  break ;   so  close  he  hemm'd  them  round. 
t^  I  to  my  leader's  side  adhered,  mine  eyes 

With  fixed  and  motionless  observance  bent 
On  their  unkindly  visage.     They  their  hooks 
Protruding,  one  the  other  thus  bespake : 
"Wilt  thou  I  touch  him  on  the  hip?"     To  whom 
Was  answer'd,  "  Even  so ;  nor  miss  thy  aim." 

But  he,  who  was  in  conference  with  my  guide, 
Turn'd  rapid  round ;   and  thus  the  demon  spake : 
"Stay,  stay  thee,  Scarmiglionel"     Then  to  us 
He  added :    "  Further  footing  to  your  step 
This  rock  affords  not,  shiver'd  to  the  base 
Of  the  sixth  arch.     But  would  ye  still  proceed. 
Up  by  this  cavern  go  :   not  distant  far, 
Another  rock  will  yield  you  passage  safe. 
Yesterday,*^  later  by  five  hours  than  now, 
Twelve  hundred  threescore  years  and  six  had  fill'd 
The  circuit  of  their  course,  since  here  the  way 
Was  broken.     Thitherward  I  straight  dispatch 
Certain  of  these  my  scouts,  who  shall  espy 
If  any  on  the  surface  bask.     With  them 
Go  ye :    for  ye  shall  find  them  nothing  fell. 
Come  Alichino,  forth,"  with  that  he  cried, 
"And  Calcabrina,  and  Cagnazzo^  thou  I 


'  From  Caprona. — The  surrender  of  the  castle  of  Ca-      1      Dante,  was  felt  even  in  the  depths  of  helL    See  canto 


prona  to  the  combined  forces  of  Florence  and  Lucca,  on 
condition  that  the  garrison  should  march  out  in  safety,  to 
which  event  Dante  was  a  witness,  took  place  in  I2ga 
See  G.  Villani,  "  Hist,"  lib.  vii.,  c.  cxxxvl 

'  Yesterday. — Tliis  passage  fixes  the  era  of  Dante's 
descent  at  Good  Friday,  in  the  year  1300  (lliirty-four  years 
from  our  blessed  Lord's  incarnation  being  added  to  1266), 
and  at  the  thirty-fifth  year  of  our  poet's  age.  See  canto  i., 
V.  I.  The  awful  event  alluded  to,  the  Evangelists  inform  us, 
happened  "at  the  ninth  hour,"  that  is,  our  sixth,  wlien 
"  the  rocks  were  rent,"  and  the  convulsion,  according  to 


xii.,  V.  38. 

•  Cajrnazzo. — Pulci  introduces  some  of  these  demons 
in  a  very  pleasant  adventure,  related  near  the  beginnmg 
of  the  second  canto  of  his  "  Morgante  Maggiore :" 
"  Non  senti  tu,  Orlando,  in  quella  tomba 

Quelle  parole,  che  colui  rimbomba  ? 

lo  voglio  andar  a  scoprir  qucUo  avello, 

La  dove  e'  par  che  quella  voce  s'oda, 

Ed  escape  Cagnazzo,  e  Farfarello, 

O  Libicocco,  col  suo  Malnccda; 

E  finalmente  s'accostava  a  quello, 


114 


THE   VISION. 


"8-137 


The  troop  of  ten  let  Barbariccia  lead. 

With  Libicocco,  Draghinazzo  haste, 

Fang'd  Ciriatto,  Graiifiacane  fierce, 

And  Farfarello,  and  mad  Rubicant. 

Search  ye  around  the  bubbling  tar.     For  these, 

In  safety  lead  them,  where  the  other  crag 

Uninterrupted  traverses  the  dens." 

I  then:   "Oh,  master  P  what  a  sight  is  there. 
Ah  I   without  escort,  journey  we  alone. 
Which,  if  thou  know  the  way,  I  covet  not. 
Unless  thy  prudence  fail  thee,  dost  not  mark 
How  they  do  gnarl  upon  us,  and  their  scowl 
Threatens  us  present  tortures  ?"     He  replied  : 
"  I  charge  thee,  fear  not :    let  them,  as  they  will, 
Gnarl  on  :   'tis  but  in  token  of  their  spite 
Against  the  souls  who  mourn  in  torment  steep'd." 

To  leftward  o'er  the  pier  they  turn'd  ;   but  each 
Had  first  between  his  teeth  prest  close  the  tongue, 
Toward  their  leader  for  a  signal  looking. 
Which  he  with  sound  obscene'  triumphant  gave. 


Pero  che  Orlando  questa  impresa  loda, 
£  disse ;  scuopri,  se  vi  fussi  dentro 
Quanti  ne  piovon  mai  dal  ciel  nel  centra" 

Stanze  xxx.  I. 

" '  Perceivest  the  words,  Orlando,  which  this  fellow 
"Doth  in  our  ears  out  of  that  tomb  rebellow  ? 
I'll  go,  and  straight  the  sepulchre  uncase, 
From  whence,  as  seems  to  me,  that  voice  was  heard; 
Be  Farfarel  and  Cagnazzo  to  my  face. 
Or  Libicoc  with  Malacoda,  stirr'd  :' 
And  finally  he  drew  near  to  the  place ; 


The  emprize  Orlando  praising  with  this  word  : 

'  Uncase  it,  though  within  as  many  dwell. 

As  ever  were  from  heaven  rain'd  down  to  helL'  " 

'  Oh,  master/ — Lombardi  tells  us  that  every  edition, 
except  his  favourite  Nidobeatina,  has  "Ome"  printed 
separately,  instead  of  "  Omd."  This  is  not  the  case  at 
least  with  Landino's  of  1484.  But  there  is  no  end  of 
these  inaccuracies. 

'  IVilh  sound  obscene. — Compare  the  original  with 
Aristophanes,  "Nubes,"  165: 

" vaXirtYi  h  ffuKrhi  iarlv" 


CANTO     XXII. 


ARGUMENT. 

Virgil  and  Dante  proceed,  accompanied  by  the  demons,  and  see  other  sinners  of  the  same  description  in  the  same  gulf. 
The  device  of  Ciampolo,  one  of  these,  to  escape  from  the  demons,  who  h.id  laid  hold  on  him. 


T  T  hath  been  heretofore  my  chance  to  see 

Horsemen  with  martial  order  shifting  camp, 
To  onset  sallying,  or  in  muster  ranged, 
Or  in  retreat  sometimes  outstretch 'd  for  flight : 
Light-armed  squadrons  and  fleet  foragers 
Scouring  thy  plains,  Arezzo  !   have  I  seen 
And  clashing  tournaments,  and  tilting  jousts, 
Now  with  the  sound  of  trumpets,  now  of  bells, 
Tabors,^  or  signals  made  from  castled  heights, 
And  with  inventions  multiform,  our  own. 
Or  introduced  from  foreign  land ;   but  r^^'t;? 
To  such  a  strange  recorder  I  beheld, 
In' evolution  moving,  horse  nor  foot. 
Nor  ship,  that  tg.c"k'd  by  sign  from  land  or  star. 
With  the  ten  demons  on  our  way  we  went ; 
Ah,  feaviul  company  I    but  in  the  church*^ 
WitAi  saints,  with  gluttons  at  the  tavern's  mess. 
Still  earnest  on  the  pitch  I  gazed,  to  mark 
All  things  whate'er  the  chasm  contain'd,^  and  those 
Who  burn'd  within.     As  dolphins*  that,  in  sign 


'  Taborj. — "Tabour,  a  drum,  a  common  accompani- 
ment of  war,  is  mentioned  as  one  of  the  instruments  of 
martial  n.iusic  in  this  battle  (in  Richard  Cceur-dc-Lion) 
with  characteristical  propriety.  It  was  imported  into  the 
European  irmies  from  the  Saracens  in  the  holy  war. 
Joiaville  describes  a  superb  barque  or  galley  belonging  to 
a  Saracen  chief  whicli,  he  says,  was  filled  with  cymb.nls, 
labours,  and  Saracen  horns.  '  Hist  de  S.  Loys,'  p. 
30." — IVarioii's  History  of  English  Poetry,  v.  i.,  §  iv., 
p.  167. 


*  In  the  church. — This  pro>";rb  is  repeated  by  Pulci, 
"  Morgante  Maggiore,"  c.  xvii. 

*  Whatever  the  chasm  contaiiCd. — Monti,  in  his  "  Pro- 
posta,"  interprets  "  contegno  "  to  mean,  not  "  contents," 
but  "  state,"  "  condition." 

*  As  dolphins. — 

"  Li  lieti  delfini 
Givan  saltando  sopra  I'onde  chiare, 
*  Che  soglion  di  fortuf  a  esser  divini." 

Frezzi,  II  Quadriregio,  lib.  i.,  cap.  xv. 


ii6 


THE   VISION. 


21 — 51 


To  mariners,  heave  high  their  arched  backs, 
That  thence  forewarn 'd  they  may  advise  to  save 
Their  threaten'd  vessel ;   so,  at  intervals, 
To  ease  the  pain,  his  back  some  sinner  show'd, 
Then  hid  more  nimbly  than  the  lightning-glance. 

E'en  as  the  frogs,  that  of  a  watery  moat 
Stand  at  the  brink,  with  the  jaws  only  out. 
Their  feet  and  of  the  trunk  all  else  conceal'd, 
Thus  on  each  part  the  sinners  stood ;   but  soon 
As  Barbariccia  was  at  hand,  so  they 
Drew  back  under  the  wave.     I  saw,  and  yet 
My  heart  doth  stagger,  one,  that  waited  thus, 
As  it  befalls  that  oft  one  frog  remains, 
While  the  next  springs  away :   and  Graffiacan,* 
Who  of  the  fiends  was  nearest,  grappling  seized 
His  clotted  locks,  and  dragg'd  him  sprawling  up, 
That  he  appear'd  to  me  an  otter.      Each 
Already  by  their  names  I  knew,  so  well 
When  they  were  chosen  I  observed,  and  mark'd 
iJow  one  the  other  call'd.     "O  Rubicant! 
See  that  his  Jiide  thou  with  thy  talons  flay," 
Shouted  together  all  the  cursed  crew. 

Then  I :   "  Inform  thee,  master !   if  thou  may, 
What  wretched  soul  is  this,  on  whom  their  hands 
His  foes  have  laid."     ]\Iy  leader  to  his  side 
Approach "d,  and  whence  he  came  inquired  ;   to ,  whom 
Was  answer'd  thus :    "  Born  in  Navarre's  domaifij* 
My  mother  placed  me  in  a  lord's  retinue ; 
For  she  had  borne  me  to  a  losel  vile, 
A  spendthrift  of  his  substance  and  himself. 
The  good  king  Thibault^  after  that  I  served: 


'  Graffiacan.  — Fuseli,  in  a  note  to  his  third  Lecture, 
observes,  that  "  the  Minos  of  Dante,  in  Messer  Biagio  da 
Ceseno,  and  his  Charon,  have  been  recognised  by  all ; 
but  less  the  shivering  wretch  held  over  the  barge  by  a 
hook,  and  evidently  taken  from  this  passage."  He  is 
speaking  of  Michael  Angelo's  "  Last  Judgment" 

'  Born  in  Navarre's  domain.— The  name  of  this  pecu- 
lator is  said  to  have  been  Ciampolo. 

»  Tki  good  king   ThibauiL—"  Thibault   1.,   King   of 


Navarre,  died  on  the  8th  of  June,  1233,  m  muc  h  to  be 
commended  for  the  desire  he  showed  of  aiding  the  \var  in 
the  Holy  Land,  as  reprehensible  and  faulty  for  his  design 
of  oppressing  the  rights  and  privileges  of  the  Church ;  on 
which  account  it  is  said  that  the  whole  kingdom  was 
under  an  interdict  for  the  space  of  three  entire  years. 
Thibault  undoubtedly  merits  praise,  as  for  his  oilier  en- 
dowments, so  especially  for  his  cultivation  of  the  liberal 
arts,  his  exercise  and  knowledge  of  music  and  poetry,  in 


5»— 81. 


HELL. CANTO   XXII. 


117 


To  peculating  here  my  thoughts  were  turn'd, 
Whereof  I  give  account  in  this  dire  heat." 

Straight  Ciriatto,  from  whose  mouth  a  tuslc 
Issued  on  either  side,  as  from  a  boar, 
Ripp'd  him  with  one  of  these.     Twixt  evil  claws 
The  mouse  had  fallen  :   but  Barbariccia  cried, 
Seizing  him  with  both  arms  :    "  Stand  thou  apart, 
While  I  do  fix  him  on  my  prong  transpierced." 
Then  added,  turning  to  my  guide  his  face, 
"  Inquire  of  him,  if  more  thou  wish  to  learn. 
Ere  he  again  be  rent."     My  leader  thus  : 
"  Then  tell  us  of  the  partners  in  thy  guilt ; 
Knowest  thou  any  sprung  of  Latian  land 
Under  the  tar?"     "I  parted,"  he  replied, 
"  But  now  from  one,  who  sojourn'd  not  far  thence ; 
So  were  I  under  shelter  now  with  him, 
Nor  hook  nor  talon  then  should  scare  me  more." 

"  Too  long  we  suffer,"  Libicocco  cried  ; 
Then,  darting  forth  a  prong,  seized  on  his  arm, 
And  mangled  bore  away  the  sinewy  part. 
Him  Draghinazzo  by  his  thighs  beneath 
Would  next  have  caught ;   whence  angrily  tlieir  chief, 
Turning  on  all  sides  round,  with  threatening  brow 
Restrain'd  them.     When  their  strife  a  little  ceased. 
Of  him,  who  yet  was  gazing  on  his  wound. 
My  teacher  thus  without  delay  inquired : 
"  Who  was  the  spirit,  from  whom  by  evil  hap 
Parting,  as  thou  hast  told,  thou  earnest  to  shore?" 

"  It  was  the  friar  Gomita,"i  he  rejoin'd, 
"  He  of  Gallura,  vessel  of  all  guile, 


which  he  so  much  excelled,  that  he  was  accustomed  to 
compose  verses  and  sing  them  to  the  viol,  and  to  exhibit 
his  poetical  compositions  publicly  in  his  palace,  that  they 
might  be  criticised  by  all." — Mariana,  History  of  Spain, 
b.  xiii.,  c  ix.  An  account  of  Thibault,  and  two  of  his 
songs,  with  what  were  probably  the  original  melodies, 
may  be  seen  in  Dr.  Barney's  "  History  of  Music,"  v.  ii.,  c. 
iv.  His  poems,  which  are  in  the  French  language,  were 
sriited  by  M.  I'Eveque  de  la  Ravalliere ;  Paris,  1742, 
2  vols.  i2mo.  Dante  twice  quotes  one  of  his  verses  in 
the  "  Treatise  de  Vulgari  Eloquentia,"  lib.  i.,  c.  ix.,  and 


lib.  ii.,  c.  v.,  and  refers  to  him  again,  lib.  ii.,  c.  yi.  From 
"the  good  king  Thibault "  are  descended  the  good,  but 
more  unfortunate  monarch,  Louis  XVI.  of  France,  and 
consequently  the  present  legitimate  sovereign  of  that 
realm.     See  Henault,  "  Abn'gc  Chron.,"  1252,  3,  4. 

'  The  friar  Gomila. — He  was  entrusted  by  Nino  de' 
Visconti  with  the  government  of  Gallura,  one  of  the  four 
jurisdictions  into  which  Sardinia  was  divided.  Having 
his  master's  enemies  in  his  power,  he  took  a  bribe  from 
them,  and  allowed  them  to  escape.  Mention  of  Nino  will 
recur  in  the  Notes  to  canto  xxxiiL 


Il8  THE    VISION.  82-U7. 

Who  had  his  master's  enemies  in  hand. 

And  used  them  so  that  they  commend  him  well. 

Money  he  took,  and  them  at  large  dismiss'd; 

So  he  reports  ;   and  in  each  other  charge 

Committed  to  his  keeping  play'd  the  part 

Of  barterer  to  the  height.     With  him  doth  herd 

The  chief  of  Logodoro,  Michel  Zanche.' 

Sardinia  is  a  theme  whereof  their  tongue 

Is  never  weary.     Out  1   alas  I    behold 

That  other,  how  he  grins.     More  would  I  say, 

But  tremble  lest  he  mean  to  maul  me  sore." 

Their  captain  then  to  Farfarello  turning, 
Who  roU'd  his  moony  eyes  in  act  to  strike, 
Rebuked  him  thus  :    "  Off,  cursed  bird  !   avaunt  I" 

"  If  ye  desire  to  see  or  hear,"  he  thus 
Quaking  with  dread  resumed,  "  or  Tuscan  spirits 
Or  Lombard,  I  will  cause  them  to  appear. 
Meantime  let  these  ill  talons  bate  their  fury, 
So  that  no  vengeance  they  may  fear  from  them. 
And  I,  remaining  in  this  self-same  place. 
Will,  for  myself  but  one,  make  seven  appear, 
When  my  shrill  whistle  shall  be  heard  :   for  so 
Our  custom  is  to  call  each  other  up." 

Cagnazzo  at  that  word  deriding  grinn'd, 
Then  wagg'd  the  head  and  spake:    "Hear  his  device, 
Mischievous  as  he  is,  to  plunge  him  down." 

Whereto  he  thus,  who  fail'd  not  in  rich  store 

« 

Of.nice-wove  toils:    "Mischief,  forsooth,  extreme  I 
'   Meant  only  to  procure  myself  more  woe." 
No  longer  Alichino  then  refrain'd, 
But  thus,  the  rest  gainsaying,  him  bespake: 
•'  If  thou  do  cast  thee  down,  I  not  on  foot 
Will  chase  thee,  but  above  the  pitch  will  beat 
My  plumes.     Quit  we  the  vantage  ground,  and  let 
The  bank  be  as  a  shield  ;   that  we  may  see, 
If  singly  thou  prevail  against  us  all." 

•  Michel  Zanche, — The  president  of  Logodoro,  another  of  the  four  Sardinian  jurisdictions.    See  canto  xxxiii.  136,  Note. 


3 


p.  119. 


But  the  other  proved 
A  goshawk  able  to  rend  well  his  foe  ; 
And  in  the  boiling  lake  both  fell. 

Canto  XXII.,  tines  137-139. 


II8-I48.  HELL. CANTO   XXIL  II9 

Now,  reader,  of  new  sport  expect  to  hear. 

They  each  one  turn'd  his  eyes  to  the  other  shore. 
He  first,  who  was  the  hardest  to  persuade. 
The  spirit  of  Navarre  chose  well  his  time, 
Planted  his  feet  on  land,  and  at  one  leap 
Escaping,  disappointed  their  resolve. 
^  Them  quick  resentment  stung,  but  him  the  most 

Who  was  the  cause  of  failure :    in  pursuit 
He  therefore  sped,  exclaiming,  "  Thou  art  caught." 

But  little  it  avail'd ;   terror  outstripp'd 
His  following  flight ;   the  other  plunged  beneath, 
And  he  with  upward  pinion  raised  his  breast : 
E'en  thus  the  water-fowl,  when  she  perceives 
The  falcon  near,  dives  instant  down,  while  he 
Enraged  and  spent  retires.      That  mockery 
In  Calcabrina  fury  stirr'd,  who  flew 
After  him,  with  desire  of  strife  inflamed  ; 
And,  for  the  barterer  had  'scaped,  so  turn'd 
Ilis  talons  on  his  comrade.     O'er  the  dyke 
In  grapple  close  they  join'd  ;   but  the  other  proved 
A  goshawk  able  to  rend  well  his  foe; 
And  in  the  boiling  lake  both  fell.      The  heat 
Was  umpire'  soon  between  them ;    but  in  vain 
To  lift  themselves  they  strove,  so  fast  were  glued 
Their  pennons.      Barbariccia,  as  the  rest. 
That  chance  lamenting,  four  in  flight  dispatch'd 
From  the  other  coast,  with  all  their  weapons  arm'd. 
They,  to  their  post  on  each  side  speedily 
Descending,  stretch'd  their  hooks  toward  the  fiends, 
Who  flounder'd,  inly  burning  from  their  scars : 
And  we  departing  left  them  to  that  broil. 


'  Umpire. — Schermidor.     The  reader,  if  he  thinks  it      I      this  word,  which,  with  Lombard!,  he  would  alter  to  sgher- 
worth  while,  may  consult  the  "Proposta"  of  Monti  on      I      mitor. 


CANTO    XXIII. 


ARGUMENT. 

The  enraged  demons  pursue  Dante,  but  he  is  preserved  from  them  by  VirgiL  On  reaching  the  sixth  grilf,  he  beholds  tht 
punishment  of  the  hypocrites  j  which  is,  to  pace  continually  round  the  gulf  under  the  pressure  of  caps  and  hoods 
that  are  gilt  on  the  outside,  but  leaden  within.  He  is  addressed  by  two  of  these,  Cafalano  and  Loderingo,  knights  o» 
Saint  Mary,  otherwise  called  Joyous  Friars  of  Bologna.  Caiaphas  is  seen  fixed  to  a  cross  on  the  ground,  and  lies  so 
stretched  along  the  way,  that  all  tread  on  him  in  passing. 

T  N  silence  and  in  solitude  we  went, 

One  first,  the  other  following  his  steps, 
As  minor  friars  journeying  on  their  road. 

The  present  fray  had  turn'd  my  thoughts  to  muse 
Upon  old  .^sop's  fable,^  where  he  told 
What  fate  unto  the  mouse  and  frog  befell ; 
For  language  hath  not  sounds  more  like  in  sense, 
Than  are  these  chances,  if  the  origin 
And  end  of  each  be  heedfully  compared. 
And  as  one  thought  bursts  from  another  forth, 
So  afterward  from  that  another  sprang, 
Which  added  doubly  to  my  former  fear. 
For  thus  I  reason'd  :    "  These  through  us  have  been 
So  foil'd,  with  loss  and  mockery  so  complete, 
As  needs  must  sting  them  sore.      If  anger  then 
Be  to  their  evil  will  conjoin'd,  more  fell 
They  shall  pursue  us,  than  the  savage  hound 
Snatches  the  leveret  panting  'twixt  his  jaws." 

Already  I  perceived  my  hair  stand  all 
On  end  with  terror,  and.  look'd  eager  back. 

"  Teacher,"  I  thus  began,  "  if  speedily 
Thyself  and  me  thou  hide  not,  much  I  dread 
Those  evil  talons.      Even  now  behind 


'  jEsop's  /ai/t.—The  frog,  who  offered  to  carry  the      i      when  both  were  carried  off  by  a  kite.    It  is  not  among 
mouse  across  a  ditch,  with  the  intention  of  drowning  him,      I      those  Greek  fables  which  go  under  the  name  of  /Esop. 


I 


/.  131. 


Scarcely  had  his  feet 
Rcach'd  to  the  lowest  of  the  bed  beneath, 
When  over  us  the  steep  they  reach'd. 

Canto  XX III.,  ktui  sa-S4. 


24—57  HELL. CANTO    XXIII.  J2i 

They  urge  us :   quick  imagination  works  ' 
So  forcibly,  that  I  already  feel  them." 

He  answer'd :    "Were  I  form'd  of  leaded  glass, 
I  should  not  sooner  draw  unto  myself 
Thy  outward  image,  than  I  now  imprint 
That  from  within.      This  moment  came  thy  thoughts 
Presented  before  mine,  with  similar  act 
And  countenance  smiilar,  so  that  from  both 
I  one  design  have  framed.     If  the  right  coast 
Incline  so  much,  that  we  may  thence  descend 
Into  the  other  chasm,  we  shall  escape 
Secure  from  this  imagined  pursuit." 

He  had  not  spoke^  his  purpose  to  the  end, 
When  I  from  far  beheld  them  with  spread  wings 
Approach  to  take  us.     Suddenly  my  guide 
Caught  me,  even  as  a  mother  that  from  sleep 
Is  by  the  noise  aroused,  and  near  her  sees 
The  climbing  fires,  who  snatches  up  her  babe 
And  flies  ne'er  pausing,  careful  more  of  him 
Than  of  herself,  that  but  a  single  vest 
Clings  round  her  limbs.     Down  from  the  jutting  beach 
Supine  he  cast  him  to  that  pendent  rock. 
Which  closes  on  one  part  the  other  chasm. 

Never  ran  water  with  such  hurrying  pace 
Adown  the  tube  to  turn  a  land-mill's  wheel, 
When  nearest  it  approaches  to  the  spokes. 
As  then  along  that  edge  my  master  ran, 
Carrying  me  in  his  bosom,  as  a  child, 
Not  a  companion.      Scarcely  had  his  feet 
Reach'd  to  the  lowest  of  the  bed  beneath, 
When  over  us  the  steep  they  reach'd  :   but  fear 
In  him  was  none ;   for  that  high  Providence, 
Which  placed  them  ministers  of  the  fifth  fosse, 
Power  of  departing  thence  took  from  them  all. 


'  ITe  had  not  spoke.  —  "Cumque  ego  cum  angelis 
relictus  stnrcm  pavidus,  unus  ex  illis  tartareis  ministris 
horridis  (  ?  horridus)  hispidis  (  ?  hispidus)  aspectuque 
procerus    festinus    adveniens    me    impellere,    et    quo- 


modocumque  noccre  conabatur :  cum  ecce  apostolus 
velocius  accurrcns,  meque  subito  airiplens  in  qurndam 
locum      gloiiose     projecit     visionis."  —  Alberki    Viiio-, 

%  XV. 


122 


THE   VISION.  58-92- 

There  in  the  depth  we  saw  a  painted  tribe, 
Who  paced  with  tardy  steps  around,  and  wept, 
Faint  in  appearance  and  o'ercome  with  toil. 
Caps  had  they  on,  with  hoods,  that  fell  low  down 
Before  their  eyes,  in  fashion  like  to  those 
Worn  by  the  monks  in  Cologne.'     Their  outside 
Was  overlaid  with  gold,  dazzling  to  view, 
But  leaden  all  within,  and  of  such  weight. 
That  Frederick's^  compared  to  these  were  straw. 
Oh,  everlasting  wearisome  attire! 

We  yet  once  more  with  them  together  turn'd 
To  leftward,  on  their  dismal  moan  intent. 
But  by  the  weight  opprest,  so  slowly  came 
The  fainting  people,  that  our  company 
Was  changed,  at  every  movement  of  the  step. 

Whence  I  my  guide  address'd :    "See  that  thou  find 
Some  spirit,  whose  name  may  by  his  deeds  be  known; 
And  to  that  end  look  round  thee  as  thou  go'st/' 
Then  one,  who  understood  the  Tuscan  voice, 
Cried  after  us  aloud  :    "  Hold  in  your  feet, 
Ye  who  so  swiftly  speed  through  the  dusk  air. 
Perchance  from  me  thou  shalt  obtain  thy  wish/' 

Whereat  my  leader,  turning,  me  bespake : 
"  Pause,  and  then  onward  at  their  pace  proceed." 
I  stayed,  and  saw  two  spirits  in  whose  look 
Impatient  eagerness  of  mind  was  mark'd 
To  overtake  me;   but  the  load  they  bare 
And  narrow  path  retarded  their  approach. 

Soon  as  arrived,  they  with  an  eye  askance 
Perused  me,  but  spake  not :   then  turning,  each 
To  other  thus  conferring  said  :    "  This  one 
Seems,  by  the  action  of  his  throat,  alive; 
And,  be  they  dead,  what  privilege  allows 
They  walk  unmantled  by  the  cumbrous  stole?" 
Then  thus  to  me  :    "  Tuscan,  who  visitest 


'  Monks  in  Cologne  —liidy  wore  large  cowls.  I      have  punished  those  who  were  guilty  of  high  treason  bj 

»  FredeiicKs.—'Wve.  Emperor  Frederick  II.  is  said  to      I      wrapping  them  in  lead,  and  casting  them  into  a  furnace. 


> 

o 

c 
rt 

3 

H 


A  "3. 


"  That  pierced  spirit,  whom  intent 
Thou  view'st,  was  he  who  gave  the  Pharisees 
Counsel,  that  it  were  fitting  for  one  man 
To  suffer  for  the  people." 

Canto  XXIII.,  lints  117-120. 


93— "7. 


HELL. — CANTO   XXIII. 


123 


♦, 


The  college  of  the  mourning  hypocrites, 
Disdain  not  to  instruct  us  who  thou  art." 

"  By  Arno's  pleasant  stream,"  I  thus  replied 
"In  the  great  city  I  was  bred  and  grew, 
And  wear  the  body  I  have  ever  worn. 
But  who  are  ye,  from  whom  such  mighty  grief. 
As  now  I  witness,  courseth  down  your  cheeks? 
What  torment  breaks  forth  in  this  bitter  woe  ?" 

"Our  bonnets  gleaming  bright  with  orange  hue. 
One  of  them  answer'd,  "  are  so  leaden  gross, 
That  with  their  weight  they  make  the  balances 
To  crack  beneath  them.     Joyous  friars'  we  were, 
Bologna's  natives ;    Catalano  I, 
He  Loderingo  named  ;    and  by  thy  land 
Together  taken,  as  men  used  to  take 
A  single  and  indifferent  arbiter. 
To  reconcile  their  strifes.      How  there  we  sped, 
Gardingo's  vicinage^  can  best  declare." 

"Oh,  friars!"   I  began,  "your  miseries -" 

But  there  brake  off,  for  one  had  caught  mine  eye, 
Fix'd  to  a  cross  with  thriee  stakes  on  the  ground  : 
He,  when  he  saw  me,  writhed  himself,  throughout 
Distorted,  ruffling  with  deep  sighs  his  beard. 
And  Catalano,  who  thereof  was  'ware. 
Thus  spake :    "  That  pierced  spirit,*  whom  intent 


•»i 


'  GUiiming  bright  with  orange  hue. — It  is  observed  by 
Venturi,  that  the  word  "  ranee "  does  not  here  signify 
"rancid  or  disgustful,"  as  it  is  explained  by  the  old  com- 
mentators, but  "  orange-coloured,"  in  which  sense  it  occurs 
in  the  "Purgatory,"  canto  ii.  9.  By  the  erroneous  inter- 
pretation Miiton  appears  to  have  been  misled:  "Ever 
since  the  day  peepe,  till  now  the  sun  was  grown  some- 
what ranke." — Prose  Works,  v.  i.,  p.  160,  ed.  1753. 

'  Joyous  friars. — "Those  who  ruled  the  city  of  Florence 
on  the  part  of  the  Ghibellines,  perceiving  this  discontent 
and  murmuring,  which  they  were  fearful  might  produce  a 
rebellion  against  themselves,  in  order  to  satisfy  the  people, 
made  choice  of  two  knights,  Frati  Godenti  (joyous  friars) 
of  Bologna,  on  whom  they  conferred  the  chief  power  in 
Florence;  one  named  M.  Catalano  de'  Malavoiti,  the 
other  M.  Loderingo  di  Liandolo  ;  one  an  adherent  of  the 
Guelph,  the  other  of  the  Ghibelline  party.  It  is  to  be 
remarked,  that  the  Joyous  Friars  were  called  Knights  of 
St  Mary,  and  became  knights  on  taking  that  habit.  Their 
robes  were  white,  the  mantle  saljle,  and  the  arms  a  white 
field  and  red  cross  with  two  stars.    Their  office  was  to 


defend  widows  and  orphans  ;  they  were  to  act  as  media- 
tors. They  had  internal  regulations,  like  other  religious 
bodies.  The  above-mentioned  M.  Loderingo  was  the 
founder  of  that  order.  But  it  was  not  long  before  they 
too  well  deserved  the  appellation  given  them,  and  were 
found  to  be  more  bent  on  enjoying  themselves  than  on 
any  other  object.  These  two  friars  were  called  in  by  the 
Florentines,  and  had  a  residence  assigned  them  in  the 
palace  belonging  to  the  people,  over  against  the  Abbey. 
Such  was  the  dependence  placed  on  the  character  of  their 
order,  that  it  was  expected  they  would'  be  impartial,  and 
would  save  the  commonwealth  any  unnecessary  expense  ; 
instead  of  which,  though  inclined  to  opposite  parties,  they 
secretly  and  hypocritically  concurred  in  promoting  their 
own  advantage  rather  than  the  public  good." — G.Viliani, 
b.  vii.,  c.  xiii.     This  happened  in  1266. 

»  Gardingo's  vicinage.— T\\e  name  of  that  part  of  the 
city  which  was  inhabited  by  llie  powerful  Ghibelline 
family  of  the  Uberti,  and  destroyed  under  the  partial  and 
initiuitous  administration  of  Catalano  and  Loceringa 

*  That  pierced  spirit. — Caiaphas. 


124  "^"^  VISION.  u«-iSi. 

Thou  view'st,  was  he  who  gave  the  Pharisees 
Counsel,  that  it  were  fitting  for  one  man 
■    To  suffer  for  the  people.      He  doth  lie 
Transverse ;   nor  any  passes,  but  him  first 
Behoves  make  feeling  trial  how  each  weighs. 
In  straits  like  this  along  the  fosse  are  placed 
The  father  of  his  consort,^  and  the  rest 
Partakers  in  that  council,  seed  of  ill 
And  sorrow  to  the  Jews."      I  noted  then, 
How  Virgil  gazed  with  wonder  upon  him, 
Thus  abjectly  extended  on  the  cross 
In  banishment  eternal.      To  the  friar 
He  next  his  words  addressed:   "We  pray  ye  tell, 
If  so  be  lawful,  whether  on  our  right 
Lies  any  opening  in  the  rock,  whereby 
We  both  may  issue  hence,  without  constraint 
On  the  dark  angels,  that  compell'd  they  come 
To  lead  us  from  this  depth."      He  thus  replied: 
*'  Nearer  than  thou  dost  hope,  there  is  a  rock 
From  the  great ^  circle  moving,  which  o'ersteps 
Each  vale  of  horror,  save  that  here  his  cope 
Is  shatter'd.      By  the  ruin  ye  may  mount : 
For  on  the  side  it  slants,  and  most  the  height 
Rises  below."      With  head  bent  down  awhile 
My  leader  stood ;   then  spake :    "  He  warn'd  us  ill,' 
Who  yonder  hangs  the  sinners  on  his  hook." 

To  whom  the  friar :   "  At  Bologna  erst 
I  many  vices  of  the  devil  heard ; 
Among  the  rest  was  said,  '  He  is  a  liar,* 
And  the  father  of  lies  I'"      When  he  had  spoke, 
My  leader  with  large  strides  proceeded  on, 
Somewhat  disturb'd  with  anger  in  his  look. 
I  therefore  left  the  spirits  heavy  laden. 
And,  following,  his  beloved  footsteps  mark'd. 


'  The  father  of  his  cofuort.— Annas,  father-in-law  to 
Caiaplias. 

'  Great.— In  the  former  editions  it  was  printed  "  next" 
The  error  was  observed  by  Mr.  Carlyle. 


•  He  warn'd  us  ill. — He  refers  to  the  falsehood  told 
him  by  the  demon,  canto  xxi.  io8. 

*  //e  is  a  liar. — yo/i/t  viii.  44.      Dante  had   perhaps 
heard  this  text  from  one  of  the  piilpits  in  Bologna. 


CANTO     XXIV. 


ARGUMENT. 

Under  the  escort  of  his  faithful  master,  Dante,  not  without  difficulty,  makes  his  way  out  of  the  sixth  gulf,  and  in 
the  seventh  sees  the  robbers  tormented  by  venomous  and  pestilent  serpents.  The  soul  of  Vanni  Fucci,  who 
had  pillaged  the  sacristy  of  Saint  James  in  Pistoia,  predicts  some  calamities  that  impended  over  that  city,  and 
over  the  Florentines. 

T  N  the  year's  early  nonage,'  when  the  sun 

Tempers  his  tresses  in  Aquarius'  urn, 
And  now  towards  equal  day  the  nights  recede ; 
Whenas  the  rime  upon  the  earth  puts  on 
Her  dazzling  sister's  image,^  but  not  long 
Her  milder  sway  endures  ;   then  riseth  up 
The  village  hind,  whom  fails  his  wintry  store," 
And  looking  out  beholds  the  plain  around 
All  whiten'd ;   whence  impatiently  he  smites 
His  thighs,  and  to  his  hut  returning  in, 
There  paces  to  and  fro,  wailing  his  lot, 
As  a  discomfited  and  helpless  man ; 
Then  comes  he  forth  again,  and  feels  new  hope 
Spring  in  his  bosom,  finding  e'en  thus  soon 
The  world  hath  changed  its  countenance,  grasps  his  crook, 
And  forth  to  pasture  drives  his  little  flock : 
So  me  my  guide  dishearten'd,  when  I  saw 
His  troubled  forehead ;   and  so  speedily 
That  ill  was  cured  ;    for  at  the  fallen  bridge 
Arriving,  towards  me  with  a  look  as  sweet, 


'  /*  tkt  year's  early  nonage. — "  At  the  latter  part  of      I  *•  Kaeit 


January,   when  the  sun  enters  into  Aquarius,  and  the 
equinox   is   drawing  near,  when  the  hoar-frosts   in  the 
morning  often   wear  the  appearance   of  snow,  but  are 
melted  by  the  rising  sun." 
'  Her  dazzling  sister's  image. — 

"  \iyviiy  fUXaivaVf  aiiiXriy  tru^^Q  icaatv." 

ACschylus,  Septem  Contra  Thehas,  v.  490,  Blomfield'i  edit. 


/Eschylus,  Agamemnon,  v.  478,  Blomjield 
•  Whom  fails  his  wintry  store. — 

"  A  cui  la  roba  manca." 
So  in  the  "  Purgatorio,"  c.  xiii.  61  : 

"  Cosi  gli  ciechi  a  cui  la  roba  manca." 


126 


THE    VISION, 


3i— 51 


He  turn'd  him  back,  as  that  I  first  beheld 
At  the  steep  mountain's  foot.     Regarding  well 
The  ruin,  and  some  counsel  first  maintain'd 
With  his  own  thought,  he  open'd  wide  his  arm 
And  took  me  up.      As  one,  who,  while  he  works, 
Computes  his  labour's  issue,  that  he  seems 
Still  to  foresee  the  effect ;   so  lifting  me 
Up  to  the  summit  of  one  peak,  he  fix'd 
His  eye  upon  another.     "  Grapple  that," 
Said  he,  "  but  first  make  proof,  if  it  be  such 
As  will  sustain  thee."     For  one  capt  with  lead 
This  were  no  journey.      Scarcely  he,  though  light, 
And  I,  though  onward  push'd  from  crag  to  crag, 
Could  mount.     And  if  the  precinct  of  this  coast 
Were  not  less  ample  than  the  last,  for  him 
I  know  not,  but  my  strength  had  surely  failed. 
But  Malebolge  all  toward  the  mouth 
Inclining  of  the  nethermost  abyss. 
The  site  ^of  every  valley  hence  requires, 
That  one  side  upward  slope,  the  other  fall. 

At  length  the  point  from  whence^  the  utmost  stone 
Juts  down,  we  reach'd  ;   soon  as  to  that  arrived, 
So  was  the  breath  exhausted  from  my  lungs 
I  could  no  further,  but  did  seat  me  there. 

"  Now  needs  thy  best  of  man  ;"   so  spake  my  guide: 
"  For  not  on  downy  plumes,^  nor  under  shade 
Of  canopy  reposing,  fame  is  won ; 
Without  which  whosoe'er  consumes  his  days, 
Leaveth  such  vestige  of  himself  on  earth. 
As  smoke  in  air,  or  foam  upon  the  wave. 
Thou  therefore  rise :   vanquish  thy  weariness^ 


'  From  whence.— lAr.  Carlyle  ftotes  the  mistake  in  my 
former  translation,  and  I  have  corrected  it  accordingly. 
•  Not  on  downy  plumes. — 

"  Lettor,  tu  dei  pensar  che,  senza  ardire, 

Senza  afianno  soffrir,  I'uomo  non  puote 

Fama  acquistar,  ne  gran  cose  fomire." 

Fasio  degli  Uberli,  Dittamondo,  lib.  iv.,  cap.  iv 

"  Nessim  mai  per  fuggir,  o  per  riposo, 

Venne  in  nitczza  fama  ovver  in  gloria." 

FrexzL  II  Quadriregto,  lib.  ii.,  cap.  ii. 


"  Signor,  non  sotto  I'ombra  in  piaggia  molle 
Tra  fonti  e  fior,  tra  Ninfe  e  tra  Sirene, 
Ma  in  cima  all'  erto  c  faticoso  colle 
Delia  virlii  riposto  i  il  nostro  bene." 

Tasso,  Gierusalemme  Liberala,  c.  xvii.,  st.  6i. 
Vanquish  thy  weariness. — 

"  Quin  corpus  onustum 
Hestemis  vitiis  animum  quoque  prsgravat  una, 
Atque  afiigit  humi  divina:  particulam  aurae.'' 

Horace,  Sat.  ii.,  lib.  ii.  78. 


52-85. 


HELL. — CANTO    XXIV. 


127 


By  the  mind's  effort,  in  each  struggle  form'd 
To  vanquish,  if  she  suffer  not  the  weight 
Of  her  corporeal  frame  to  crush  her  down. 
A  longer  ladder  yet  remains  to  scale. 
From  these  to  have  escaped  sufficeth  not, 
If  well  thou  note  me,  profit  by  my  words." 
^  I  straightway  rose,  and  show'd  myself  less  spent 

Than  I  in  truth  did  feel  me.     "  On,"  I  cried, 
"  For  I  am  stout  and  fearless."     Up  the  rock 
Our  way  we  held,  more  rugged  than  before. 
Narrower,  and  steeper  far  to  climb.      From  talk 
I  ceased  not,  as  we  journey 'd,  so  to  seem 
Least  faint ;   whereat  a  voice  from  the  other  fosse 
Did  issue  forth,  for  utterance  suited  ill. 
Though  on  the  arch  that  crosses  there  I  stood, 
What  were  the  words  I  knew  not,  but  who  spake 
Seem'd  moved  in  anger.      Down  I  stoop'd  to  look; 
But  my  quick  eye  might  reach  not  to  the  depth 
For  shrouding  darkness ;   wherefore  thus  I  spake : 
"  To  the  next  circle,  teacher,  bend  thy  steps, 
And  from  the  wall  dismount  we;   for  as  hence 
I  hear  and  understand  not,  so  I  see 
Beneath,  and  nought  discern."     "  I  answer  not," 
Said  he,  "  but  by  the  deed.      To  fair  request 
Silent  performance  maketh  best  return," 

We  from  the  bridge's  head  descended,  where 
To  the  eighth  mound  it  joins;    and  then,  the  chasm 
Opening  to  view,  I  saw  a  crowd  within 
Of  serpents  terrible,^  so  strange  of  shape 
And  hideous,  that  remembrance  in  my  veins 
Yet  shrinks  the  vital  current.     Of  her  sands> 
Let  Libya  vaunt  no  more :    if  Jaculus, 
Pareas  and  Chelyder  be  her  brood, 
Cenchris  and  Amphisbasna,  plagues  so  dire 


*  /  saw  a  crowd  within 

Of  serpents  terrible. — 
'  Vidi  locum  horridum  tenebrosutn  foetoribus  cxhalanti- 


bus  flammis  crcpitantibus  serpentibus,  draconrbm  .  .  . 
repletum." — Alberici  Visic,  \  rz. 
'  Sands. — Compare  Ltican,  "  Pharsalia,"  lib.  ix.  70.^ 


128 


THE   VISION. 


86— 109 


Or  in  such  numbers  swarming  ne'er  she  shovv'd, 
Not  with  all  Ethiopia,  and  whate'er 
Above  the  Erythraean  sea  is  spawn'd. 

Amid  this  dread  exuberance  of  woe 
Ran  naked  spirits  wing'd  with  horrid  fear, 
Nor  hope  had  they  of  crevice  where  to  hide, 
Or  heliotrope^  to  charm  them  out  of  view. 
With  serpents  were  their  hands  behind  them  bound, 
Which  through  their  reins  infix'd  the  tail  and  head, 
Twisted  in  folds  before.     And,  lo  I   on  one 
Near  to  our  side,  darted  an  adder  up, 
And,  where  the  neck  is  on  the  shoulders  tied, 
Transpierced  him.      Far  more  quickly  than  e'er  pen 
Wrote  O  or  I,  he  kindled,  burn'd,  and  changed 
To  ashes  all,  pour'd  out  upon  the  earth. 
When  there  dissolved  he  lay,  the  dust  again 
UproH'd  spontaneous,  and  the  self-same  form 
Instant  resumed.     So  mighty  sages  tell. 
The  Arabian  Phoenix,^  when  five  hundred  years 
Have  well  nigh  circled,  dies,  and  springs  forthwith 
Renascent :    blade  nor  herb  throughout  his  life 
He  tastes,  but  tears  of  frankincense^  alone 
And  adorous  amomum ;   swaths  of  nard 
And  myrrh  his  funeral  shroud.     As  one  that  falls. 


'  Heliotrope. — "  Viridi  colore  est  (gemma  heliotropion) 
non  ita  acuto  sed  nubilo  magis  et  represso,  stcllis  puniceis 
supcrspcrsa.  Causa  nominis  de  eflectu  lapiUis  est  et 
potestate.  Dejecta  in  labris  xneis  radios  solis  mutat 
sanguineo  repercussu,  utraque  aqu^  splendorem  aeris 
abjicit  et  avertit.  Etiam  illud  posse  dicitur,  ut  herba 
ejusdem  nominis  mixta  et  prascantationibus  iegitimis 
consccrata,  eum,  a  quocunque  gestabitur,  subtrahat 
visibus  ohs'wxMva."  —Solinus,  c.  xl.  "A  stone,"  says 
Boccaccio,  in  his  humorous  tale  of  "Calandrino,"  "which 
we  lapidaries  call  heliotrope,  of  such  extraordinary  virtue, 
that  the  be.irer  of  it  is  effectually  concealed  from  the 
sight  of  all  present." — Decameron,  Giorn.  viii.,  Nov.  3. 
In  Chiabrera's  "  Ruggicro,"  Scaltrimento  begs  of  Sofia, 
who  is  sending  him  on  a  perilous  errand,  to  lend  him  the 
heliotrope : 

"In  mia  man  fida 
L'elitropia,  j)er  cui  possa  involarmi 
Secondo  il  inio  talento  agli  occhi  altrui,"  c.  vi. 
"Trust  to  my  hand  the  heliotrope,  by  which 
I  may  at  will  from  others'  eyes  conceal  me." 
Compare  Ariosto,  «  II  Negromante,"  Act  iii.,  sc.  3 ;  Pulci, 


"  Morgante  Maggiore,"  c  xxv. ;  and  Fortiguerra,  "Ricci- 
ardetto,"  c  x.,  sL  17.  Cower,  in  his  "  Confessio  Amantis," 
lib.  vii.,  enumerates  it  among  the  jewels  in  the  diadem  of 
the  sun  : 

"  Jaspis  and  helitropius." 

•  The  Arabian  Phoenix. — This  is  translated  from  Ovid, 
"  Metamorphoses,"  lib.  xv. : 

"  Una  est  quiE  reparat,  seque  ipsa  reseminat  ales  ; 
Assyrii  Phoenica  vocant.     Nee  fruge  neque  herbis, 
Sed  thuris  lacrymis,  et  succo  vivit  amomi. 
Ha;c  ubi  quinque  su.-e  complevit  secula  vita, 
Ilicis  in  ramis,  tremuteve  cacumine  palmx, 
Unguibus  et  pando  nidum  sibi  cons'.ruit  ore. 
Qua  simul  ut  casias,  et  nardi  lenis  aristas, 
Quassaque  cum  fulva  siibstravit  cinnama  myrrhi, 
Se  super  imponit,  finitque  in  odoribus  a;vum." 
See  also  Petrarch,  canzone  "  QuaJ  piu,"  &c. 

"  Tears  of  frankincense. — 

"  Incenso  e  mirra  e  quello  onde  si  pasce." 
Fazio  degli  Uberti,  "Dittamondo,"  in  a  gorgeous  descrip- 
tion of  the  phoenix,  lib.  ii..  cao.  v. 


► 


I 


IIO-I4I.  HELL. CANTO   XXIV.  129 

He  knows  not  how,  by  force  demoniac  dragg'd 

To  earth,  or  through  obstruction  fettering  up 

In  chains  invisible  the  powers  of  man,  ; 

Who,  risen  from  his  trance,  gazeth  around,^ 

Bewiider'd  with  the  monstrous  agony 

He  hath  endured,  and  wildly  staring  sighs ; 

So  stood  aghast  the  sinner  when  he  rose. 

Oh  I    how  severe  God's  judgment,  that  deals  out 
Such  blows  in  stormy  vengeance.     Who  he  was, 
My  teacher  next  inquired;   and  thus  in  few 
He  answer'd :    "Vanni  Fucci-  am  I  call'd, 
Not  long  since  rained  down  from  Tuscany 
To  this  dire  gullet.      Me  the  bestial  life 
And  not  the  human  pleased,  mule  that  I  was, 
Who  in  Pistoia  found  my  worthy  den." 

I  then  to  Virgil:   "Bid  him  stir  not  hence; 
And  ask  him  what  crime  did  thrust  him  hither :   once 
A  man  I  knew  him,  choleric  and  bloody." 

The  sinner  heard  and  feign'd  not,  but  towards  .me 
His  mind  directing  and  his  face,  wherein 
Was  dismal  shame  depictured,  thus  he  spake : 
"  It  grieves  me  more  to  have  been  caught  by  thee 
In  this  sad  plight,  which  thou  beholdest,  than 
When  I  was  taken  from  the  other  life. 
I  have  no  power  permitted  to  deny 
What  thou  inquirest.      I  am  doom'd  thus  low 
To  dwell,  for  that  the  sacristy  by  me 
Was  rifled  of  its  goodly  ornaments. 
And  with  the  guilt  another  falsely  charged. 
But  that  thou  mayst  not  joy  to  see  me  thus, 
So  as  thou  e'er  shalt  'scape  this  darksome  realm, 
Open  thine  ears  and  hear  what  I  forebode. 


•  Gazeth  around.— 

"  Su  mi  levai  senza  far  piu  parole, 

Cogli  occhi  intorno  stupido  mirando, 
Si  come  I'Epilentico  far  suole." 

Frtzzi,  II  Quadriregio,  lib.  ii.,  cap.  iii. 


'  Vanni  Fucci. — He  is  said  to  have  been  an  illegitimate 
offspring  of  the  family  of  Lazari,  in  Pistoia,  and,  having 
robbed  the  sacristy  of  the  church  of  St.  James  in  that 
city,  to  have  charged  Vanni  della  Nona  with  the  sacri- 
lege ;  in  consequence  of  which  accusation  the  latter 
suffered  death. 

K 


130 


THE   VISION. 


143—150. 


Reft  of  the  Neri  first  Pistoia'  pines ; 
Then  Florence*  changeth  citizens  and  laws ; 
From  Valdimagra/  drawn  by  wrathful  Mars, 
A  vapour  rises,  wrapt  in  turbid  mists. 
And  sharp  and  eager  driveth  on  the  storm 
With  arrowy  hurtling  o'er  Piceno's  field, 
Whence  suddenly  the  cloud  shall  burst,  and  strike 
Each  helpless  Bianco  prostrate  to  the  ground. 
This  have  I  told,  that  grief  may  rend  thy  heart." 


'  PisMa. — "In  May,  1301,  the  Bianchi  party  of  Pistoia, 
irith  the  assistance  and  favour  of  the  Qianchi,  who  ruled 
Florence,  drove  out  the  party  of  the  Neri  from  the  former 
place,  destroying  their  houses,  palaces,  and  farms." — G. 
Villani,  Hist.,  lib.  viii.,  c.  xliv. 

'  Then  Florence. — "Soon  after  the  Bianchi  will  be 
expelled  from  Florence,  the  Neri  will  prevail,  and  the 
laws  and  people  will  be  changed." 

•  From  Valdimagra. — The  commentators  explain  this 
prophetical  threat  to  allude  to  the  victory  obtained  by 
the  Marquis  Morello  Malaspina  of  Valdimagra  (a  tract  of 
country  now  called  the  Lunigiana),  who  put  himself  at 


the  head  of  the  Men,  and  defeated  tkdr  opponents,  the 
Bianchi,  in  the  Campo  Piceno  near  Pistoia,  soon  after  the 
occurrence  related  in  tlie  preceding  note  on  line  142.  Of 
this  engagement  I  find  no  mention  in  Villani.  Balbo 
("Vita  di  Dante,"  v.  ii.,  p.  143)  refers  to  Gerini,  "Memorie 
Storiche  di  Lunigiana,"  tom.  ii.,  p.  123,  for  the  whole 
history  of  this  Morello  or  Moroello.  Currado  Malaspina| 
is  introduced  in  the  eighth  canto  of  the  "  Purgatory,", 
where  it  appears,  that  although  on  the  present  occasion! 
they  espoused  contrary  sides,  most  important  favours 
were  nevertheless  conferred  by  that  family  od  our  poet,  at 
a  subsequent  period  of  his  exile,  in  1307. 


i 


CANTO    XXV. 


ARGUMENT. 

The  sactilegious  Fucci  vents  his  fury  in  blasphemy,  is  seized  by  serpents,  and  flying  is  pursued  by  Cacus  in  the  form  of  a 
centaur,  who  is  described  with  a  swarm  of  serpents  on  his  haunch,  and  a  dragon  on  his  shoulders  breathing  forth 
fire.  Our  poet  then  meets  with  the  spirits  of  three  of  his  countrymen,  two  of  whom  undergo  a  marvellous  trans- 
formation in  his  presence. 

"\  "\  THEN  he  had  spoke,  the  sinner  raised  his  hands^ 

Pointed  in  mockery,  and  cried:    "Take  them,  Godl 
I  level  them  at  thee.''      From  that  day  forth 
The  serpents  were  my  friends ;   for  round  his  neck 
One  of  them  rolling  twisted,  as  it  said, 
"Be  silent,  tongue  1"     Another,  to  his  arms 
Upgliding,  tied  them,  riveting  itself 
So  close,  it  took  from  them  the  power  to  move. 

Pistoia  1   ah,  Pistoia !   why  dost  doubt 
To  turn  liiee  into  ashes,  cumbering  earth 
No  longer,  since  in  evil  act  so  far 
Thou  hast  undone  thy  seed?*     I  did  not  mark, 
Through  all  the  gloomy  circles  of  the  abyss, 
Spirit,  that  swell'd  so  proudly  'gainst  his  God  ; 
Not  him,'  who  headlong  fell  from  Thebes,      He  fled. 
Nor  utterd  more;   and  after  him  there  came 
A  centaur  full  of  fury,  shouting,  "Where, 
Where  is  the  caitiff?"    On  Maremma's  marsh* 


"  •  His  hands.— 

"  Le  mani  alzd,  con  ambeduo  le  fiche." 
So  Frezzi : 

"  E  fe  le  fiche  a  Dio  '1  superbo  vermo." 

//  Quadriregio,  lib.  iL,  cap.  xix. 
"lo  vidi  I'ira  poi  con  crudel  faccia; 
E  fe  le  fiche  a  Dio  il  mostro  rio, 
Stringendo  i  denti  ed  alzando  le  braccia." 

Ibid.,  lib.  iii.,  c.  x. 
And  Trissino: 

"  Poi  facea  con  le  man  le  fiche  al  cielo 

Dicendo :  Togli,  Iddio  ;  che  puoi  piu  farmi  ?" 

Vital.  Liberaia,  c.  xii 


"  The  practice  of  thrusting  out  the  thumb  between  the 
first  and  second  fingers,  to  express  the  feelings  of  insult 
and  contempt,  has  prevailed  very  generally  among  the 
nations  of  Europe,  and  for  many  ages  had  been  denomi- 
nated 'making  the  fig,'  or  described  at  least  by  some 
equivalent  expression." — Doners  Illustrations  of  Shake- 
speare, voL  i,,  p.  492,  ed.  1807.  The  passage  in  the 
original  text  has  not  escaped  this  diligent  commen- 
tator. 

'  Thy  seed. — Tliy  ancestry. 

•  Not  him. — Capaneus,  canto  xiv. 

<  On  Maremmds  marsh.— An  extensive  tract  near  the 
8ea-shore  of  Tuscany. 


132 


THE    VISION. 


19— ca 


Swarm  not  the  serpent  tribe,  as  on  his  haunch 

They  swarm 'd,  to  where  the  human  face  begins. 

Behind  his  head,  upon  the  shoulders,  lay 

With  open  wings  a  dragon,  breathing  fire 

On  whomsoe'er  he  met.     To  me  my  guide: 

•'Cacus'  is  this,  who  underneath  the  rock 

Of  Aventinc  spread  oft  a  lake  of  blood. 

He,  from  his  brethren  parted,  here  must  tread 

A  different  journey,  for  his  fraudful  theft 

Of  the  great  herd  that  near  him  stall'd;   whence  found 

His  felon  deeds  their  end,  beneath  the  mace 

Of  stout  Alcides,  that  perchance  laid  on 

A  hundred  blows,^  and  not  the  tenth  was  felt." 

While  yet  he  spake,  the  centaur  sped  away : 
And  under  us  three  spirits  came,  of  whom 
Nor  I  nor  he  was  ware,  till  they  exclaim'd, 
"Say  who  are  ye  I"     We  then  brake  off  discourse, 
Intent  on  these  alone.      I  knew  them  not: 
But,  as  it  chanceth  oft,  befell,  that  one 
Had  need  to  name  another.     "Where,"  said  he, 
"Doth  Cianfa^  lurk?"     I,  for  a  sign  my  guide 
Should  stand  attentive,  placed  against  my  lips 
The  finger  lifted.      If,  oh,  reader  I   now 
Thou  be  not  apt  to  .credit  what  I  tell, 
No.  marvel ;   for  myself  do  scarce  allow 
The  witness  of  mine  eyes.      But  as  I  look'd 
Toward  them,  lo !   a  serpent  with  six  feet 
Springs  forth  on  one,  and  fastens  full  upon  him : 
His  midmost  grasp'd  the  belly,  a  forefoot 
Seized  on  each  arm  (while  deep  in  either  cheek* 
He  flesh 'd  his  fangs) ;   the  hinder  on  the  thighs 
Were  spread,  'twixt  which  the  tail  inserted  curl'd 


'  Cacus. — Virgil,  "  iEneid,"  lib.  viii.  193. 

'  A  hundred  blows. — Less  than  ten  blows,  out  of  the 
hundred  Hercules  gave  him,  had  deprived  him  of 
feeling. 

•  Cianfa. — He  is  said  to  have  been  of  the  family  of 
Uonati  at  Florence. 


•  In  titker  cheek. — "  Ostendit  mihi  post  hoc  apostolus 
lacum  magnum  tetrum,  et  aquae  sulpliureae  plenum,  in 
quo  animarum  multitudo  demcrsa  est,  plenum  serpentibus 
ac  scorpionibus  ;  stabant  vero  ibi  et  daemones  scrpentes 
tenenles  et  ora  vultus  et  capita  hominum  cum  eisdem 
serpentibus  percutientes." — Alberici  Visio,  %  xxiiL 


A  «33- 


The  other  two 
Look'd  on,  exclaiming,  "Ah!  how  dost  thou  change, 
Agnello ! " 

Canto  XXV.,  lines  59-61. 


I 


♦. 


5«-79-  HELL. — CANTO   XXV. 

Upon  the  reins  behind.      Ivy  ne'er  clasp'dV  • 

A  dodder'd  oak,  as  round  the  other's  limbs 

The  hideous  monster  intertwined  his  own. 

Then,  as  they  both  had  been  of  burning  wax,. 

Each  melted  into  other,  mingling  hues. 

That  which  was  either  now  was  seen  no  more.    • 

Thus  up  the  shrinking  paper,^  ere  it  burns, 

A  brown  tint  glides,  not  turning  yet  to  black, 

And  the  clean  white  expires.      The  other  two 

Look'd  on,  exclaiming,  "  Ah  I    how  dost  thou  change,. 

Agnello  P      See  I    thou  art  nor  double  now, 

Nor  only  one."      The  two  heads  now  became 

One,  and  two  figures  blended  in  one  form 

Appear'd,  where  both  were  lost.      Of  the  four  lengths 

Two  arms  were  made :   the  belly  an.d  the  chest, 

The  thighs  and  legs,  into  such  members  changed 

As  never  eye  hath  seen.      Of  former  shape 

All  trace  was  vanish'd.      Two,  yet  neither,  seem'd 

That  image  miscreate,  and  so  pass'd  on 

With  tardy  steps.      As  underneath  the  scourge 

Of  the  fierce  dog-star  that  lays  bare  the  fields. 

Shifting  from  brake  to  brake  the  lizard  seems  ; 

A  flash  of  lightning,  if  he  thwart  the  road ; 

So  toward  the  entrails  of  the  other  two 

Approaching  seem'd  an  adder  all  on  fire, 

As  the  dark  pepper-grain  livid  and  swart. 

In  that  part,*  whence  our  life  is  nourish'd  first. 

One  he  transpierced;    then  down  before  him  fell 

Stretch'd  out.      The  pierced  spirit  look'd  on  him, 


123 


•  Ivjf  n/er  clasp' d.— 

"  'Ox-oia  Ktaadt  ifvi(  SiriDf  rijai'  liofuu." 

Euripides,  Hecuba,  v.  102. 
"Like  ivy  to  an  oak,  how  will  1  cling  to  her  !  " 

•  Thus  up  the  shrinking  paper. — Many  of  the  commen- 
tators suppose  thai  by  "papiro"  is  here  meant  the  wick 
of  a  lamp  or  candle,  and  Lombardi  adduces  an  extract 
from  Pier  Crescenzio  ("Agricolt.,"  lib.  vi.,  cap.  ix.)  to 
show  that  this  use  was  then  made  of  the  plant.  But  Tira- 
boschi  has  proved  that  paper  made  of  linen  came  into  use 
towards  the  latter  half  of  the  fourteenth  century,  and  that 
the  inventor  of  it  was  Pier  da  Fabiano,  who  canied  on 


his  manufactory  in  the  city  of  Trevigi;  whereas  paper  ol 
cotton,  with,  perhaps,  some  linen  mixed,  was  used  during 
the  twelfth  century.— .T^r/d  cklla  Lett.  Hal.,  torn,  v., 
lib.  i.,  c.  iv.,  §  iv. 

"  All  my  bowels  crumble  up  to  dust 
I  am  a  scribbled  form,  drawn  with  a  pen 
■Upon  a  parchment ;  and  against  this  fire 
Do  I  shrink  up." 

Shakespeare,  King  John,  Act  v.,  sc.  7. 

•  Agnello/ — Agnello  Brunelleschi. 

*  In  that  part.— Ihe  navel 


»34 


THE   VISION. 


80— I IX 


But  spake  not;  yea,  stood  motionless  and  yawn'd. 
As  if  by  sleep  or  feverous  fit  assail'd.' 
He  eyed  the  serpent,  and  the  serpent  him. 
One  from  the  wound,  the  other  from  the  mouth 
Breathed  a  thick  smoke,  whose  vapoury  columns  join'd. 

Lucan=  in  mute  attention  now  may  hear, 
Nor  thy  disastrous  fate,  Sabellus,  tell, 
Nor  thine,  Nasidius,     Ovid*  now  be  mute. 
What  if  in  warbling  fiction  he  record 
Cadmus  and  Arethusa,  to  a  snake 
Him  changed,  and  her  into  a  fountain  clear, 
I  envy  not ;    for  never  face  to  face 
Two  natures  thus  transmuted  did  he  sing, 
Wherein  both  shapes  were  ready  to  assume 
The  other's  substance.     They  in  mutual  guise 
So  answer'd,  that  the  serpent  split  his  train 
Divided  to  a  fork,  and  the  pierced  spirit 
Drew  close  his  steps  together,  legs  and  thighs 
Compacted,  that  no  sign  of  juncture  soon 
Was  visible :   the  tail,  disparted,  took 
The  figure  which  the  spirit  lost ;    its  skin 
Softening,  his  indurated  to  a  rind. 
The  shoulders  next  I  mark'd,  that  entering  join'd 
The  monster's  arm-pits,  whose  two  shorter  feet 
So  lengthen'd,  as  the  others  dwindling  shnmk. 
The  feet  behind  then  twisting  up  became 
That  part  that  man  conceals,  which  in  the  wretch 
Was  cleft  in  twain.     While  both  the  shadowy  smoke 
With  a  new  colour  veils,  and  generates 
The  excrescent  pile  on  one,  peeling  it  off 
From  the  other  body,  lol    upon  his  feet 
One  upright  rose,  and  prone  the  other  fell. 
Nor  yet  their  glaring  and  malignant  lamps 


'  At  if  by  sltep  or  feverous  fit  assail'd.— 
"  O  Rome  !  thy  head 
It  drown'd  in  sleep,  and  all  thy  body  fev'ry." 

Ben  y orison's  Caliline. 
•  iMcan.—"  Pharsalia,"  lib.  ix.,  766  and  793 : 


"Lucan  di  alcun  di  quest!  poetando 
Conta  si  come  Sabcllo  e  Nasidio 
Fil  punti  e  trasfoimati  ivi  passando." 

Fazio  degli  Ubati,  Ditlamondo,  1.  v.,  cap.  xvii 

•  Ovid. — "  Metamorphoses,"  lib.  iv.  and  v. 


113—140. 


HELL. CANTO   XXV. 


>35 


Were  shifted,  though  each  feature  changed  beneath. 
Of  him  who  stood  erect,  the  mounting  face 
Retreated  towards  the  temples,  and  what  there 
Superfluous  matter  came,  shot  out  in  ears 
From  the  smooth  cheeks  ;   the  rest,  not  backward  dragg'd, 
Of  its  excess  did  shape  the  nose;   and  swell'd 
^  Into  due  size  protuberant  the  lips. 

He,  on  the  earth  who  lay,  meanwhile  extends 
His  sharpen'd  visage,^  and  draws  down  the  ears 
Into  the  head,  as  doth  the  slug  his  horns. 
His  tongue,  continuous  before  and  apt 
For  utterance,  severs  ;   and  the  other's  fork 
Closing  unites.      That  done,  the  smoke  was  laid.  • 
The  soul,  transform'd  into  the  brute,  glides  oft", 
Hissing  along  the  vale,  and  after  him 
The  other  talking  sputters  ;   but  soon  turn'd 
His  new-grown  shoulders  on  him,  and  in  few 
Thus  to  another  spake :    "  Along  this  path 
Crawling,  as  I  have  done,  speed  Buoso^  now  I" 

So  saw  I  fluctuate  in  successive  change 
The  unsteady  ballast  of  the  seventh  hold  : 
And  here  if  aught  my  pen^  have  swerved,  events 
So  strange  may  be  its  warrant.     O'er  mine  eyes 
Confusion  hung,  and  on  my  thoughts  amaze. 

Yet  scaped  they  not  so  covertly,  but  well 
I  mark'd  Sciancato  :*  he  alone  it  was 
Of  the  three  first  that  came,  who  changed  not :   thou 
The  other's  fate,  Gaville  1^   still  dost  rue. 


'  His  sharpened  visage. — Compare  Milton,  "  Paradise 
Lost,"  b.  X.,  511,  &c. 

•  Btioso. — He  is  also  said  by  some  to  have  been  of  the 
Donati  family,  but  by  others  of  the  AbbatL 

•  My  pen.— homhdi\di  justly  prefers  "la  pcnna"  to  "la 
lingua  ;"  but,  when  he  teils  us  that  the  former  is  in  the 
Nidobeatina,  and  the  latter  in  the  other  editions,  he 
ought  to  have  excepted  at  least  Landino's  of  14S4,  and 
Vellutello's  of  1 S44,  and,  perhaps,  many  besides  these. 


*  Sciancaio. — Puccio  Sciancato,  a  noted  robber,  whose 
family,  Venturi  says,  he  has  not  been  able  to  discover. 
The  Latin  annotator  on  the  Monte  Casino  MS.  informs 
us  that  he  was  one  of  the  Galigai  of  Florence,  the  decline 
of  which  house  is  mentioned  in  the  "  Paradise,"  canto 
xvi.  96. 

'  Gaville! — Francesco  Guercio  Cavalcante  was  killed 
at  Gaville,  near  Florence ;  and  in  revenge  of  his  death 
several  inhabitants  of  that  district  were  put  to  death. 


CANTO    XXVI. 


ARGUMENT. 


Remounting  by  the  steps,  down  which  they  had  descended  to  the  seventh  gulf,  they  go  forward  to  the  arch  that  stretches 
over  the  eighth,  and  from  thence  behold  numberless  flames  wherein  are  punished  the  evil  counsellors,  each  flame 
containing  a  sinner,  save  one,  in   which  were  Diomede  and  Ulysses,  the  latter  of  whom  relates  the  manner  ol 


his  death. 


Tj^LORENCE,  exult  I    for  thou  so  mightily 

''■        Hast  thriven,  that  o'er  land  and  sea*  thy  wings 

Thou  beatest,  and  thy  name  spreads  over  hell. 

Among  the  plunderers,  such  the  three  I  found 

Thy  citizens  ;   whence  shame  to  me  thy  son, 

And  no  proud  honour  to  thyself  redounds. 

But  if  our  minds,*^  when  dreaming  near  the  dawn, 
Are  of  the  truth  presage ful,  thou  ere  long 
Shalt  feel  what  Prato^  (not  to  say  the  rest) 
Would  fain  might  come  upon  thee;   and  that  chance 
Were  in  good  time,  if  it  befell- thee  now. 
Would  so  it  were,  since  it  must  needs  befall  I 
For  as  time*  wears  me,  I  shall  grieve  the  more. 

We  from  the  depth  departed  ;   and  my  guide 
Remounting  scaled  the  flinty  steps,*  which  late 
We  downward  traced,  and  drew  me  up  the  steep. 
Pursuing  thus  our  solitary  way 


^  O'er  land  and  sea. — 
"  For  he  can  spread  thy  name  o'er  lands  and  seas." 

Millon,  Sonnet  viii. 

•  But  if  our  minds. — 

"  Namque  sub  Auroram,  jam  dormitante  luccrni, 
Somnia  quo  cerni  tempore  vera  solent." 

Ovid,  Epist.  xix. 
The  same  poetical  superstition  is  alluded  to  in  the  "  Pur- 
g.itory,"  canto  ix.  and  xxvii. 

•  Shalt  feel  what  Prato. — The  poet  prognosticates  the 
calamities  which  were  soon  to  befall  his  native  city,  and 
which,  he  says,  even  her  nearest  neighbour,  I'rato,  would 
wish  her.    The  caJamities  more  particularly  pointed  at 


are  said  to  be  the  fall  of  a  wooden  bridge  over  the  Arno, 
in  May,  1304,  where  a  large  multitude  were  assembled  to 
witness  a  representation  of  hell  and  the  infernal  torments, 
in  consequence  of  which  accident  many  lives  were  lost ; 
and  a  conflagration,  that  in  the  following  month  destroyed 
more  than  1,700  houses,  many  of  them  sumptuous  build- 
ings.    See  G.  Villani,  "  Hist.,"  lib.  viii.,  c.  Ixx.  and  Ixxi. 

'  As  time. — "  1  shall  feel  all  calamities  more  sensibly 
as  I  am  further  advanced  in  life." 

>  The  flinty  steps.— \ cvAwxi,  after  DanicUo  and  Volpi, 
expLiins  the  word  in  the  origin.-il,  "borni,"  to  mean  the 
stones  that  project  from  a  wall,  for  other  buildings  to  be 
joined  to,  which  the  workmen  call  "  toothingis." 


/.  137- 


The  guide,  who  mark'd 
How  I  did  gaze  attentive,  thus  began : 
'  Within  these  ardours  are  the  spirits,  each 
Swathed  in  confining  fire." 

Canto  XXVI. ,  lines  46-49. 


18-49-  HELL. CANTO   XXVL 

Among  the  crags  and  splinters  of  the  rock, 
Sped  not  our  feet  without  the  help  of  hands. 

Then  sorrow  seized  me,  which  e'en  now  revives. 
As  my  thought  turns  again  to  what  I  saw, 
And,  more  than  I  am  wont,^  I  rein  and  curb 
The  powers  of  nature  in  me,  lest  they  run 
Where  Virtue  guides  not ;   that,  if  aught  of  good 
My  gentle  star  or  something  better  gave  me, 
I  envy  not  myself  the  precious  boon. 

As  in  that  season,  when  the  sun  least  veils 
His  face  that  lightens  all,  what  time  the  fly 
Gives  way  to  the  shrill  gnat,  the  peasant  then, 
Upon  some  cliff  reclined,  beneath  him  sees 
Fire-flies  innumerous  spangling  o'er  the  vale. 
Vineyard  or  tilth,  where  his  day-labour  lies ; 
With  flames  so  numberless  throughout  its  space 
Shone  the  eighth  chasm,  apparent,  when  the  depth 
Was  to  my  view  exposed.      As  he,  whose  wrongs* 
The  bears  avenged,  at  its  departure  saw 
Elijah's  chariot,  when  the  steeds  erect 
Raised  their  steep  flight  for  heaven  ;   his  eyes,  meanwhile, 
Straining  pursued  them,  till  the  flame  alone, 
Upsoaring  like  a  misty  speck,  he  kenn'd  : 
E'en  thus  along  the  gulf  moves  every  flame, 
A  sinner  so  enfolded  close  in  each. 
That  none  exhibits  token  of  the  theft. 

Upon  the  bridge  I  forward  bent  to  look. 
And  grasp'd  a  flinty  mass,  or  else  had  fallen, 
Though  push'd  not  from  the  height.     The  guide,  who  mark'd 
How  I  did  gaze  attentive,  thus  began : 
"  Within  these  ardours  are  the  spirits,  each 
Swathed  in  confining  fire."     "  Master  I   thy  word," 


137 


'  More  than  I  am  wont.—"  When  I  reflect  on  the 
punishment  allotted  to  those  who  do  not  give  sincere  and 
upright  advice  to  others,  I  am  more  anxious  than  ever  not 
to  abuse  to  so  bad  a  purpose  those  talents,  whatever  they 
may  be,  which  Nature,  or  rather  Providence,  has  con- 
ferred on  me."     It  is  probable  that  this  declaration  was 


the  result  of  real  feeling  in  the  mind  of  Dante,  whose 
political  character  would  have  given  great  weight  to  any 
opinion  or  party  he  had  espoused,  and  to  whom  indigence 
and  exile  might  have  ofTered  temptations  to  deviate  from 
that  line  of  conduct  which  a  strict  sense  of  duty  prescribed. 
'  As  he,  whose  wrc/igs. — 2  Kings  ii. 

S 


138 


THE   VISION. 


SO— 8a 


I  answer'd,  "  hath  assured  me ;  yet  I  deem'd 

Already  of  the  truth,  already  wish'd 

To  ask  thee  who  is  in  yon  fire,  that  comes 

So  parted  at  the  summit,  as  it  seem'd 

Ascending  from  that  funeral  pile*  where  lay 

The  Theban  brothers."     He  replied  :    "  Within, 

Ulysses  there  and  Diomede  endure 

Their  penal  tortures,  thus  to  vengeance  now 

Together  hasting,  as  erewhile  to  wrath. 

These  in  the  flame  with  ceaseless  groans  deplore 

The  ambush  of  the  horse,*  that  open'd  wide 

A  portal  for  that  goodly  seed  to  pass, 

Which  sow'd  imperial  Rome ;   nor  less  the  guile 

Lament  they,  whence,  of  her  Achilles  'reft, 

Deidamia  yet  in  death  complains. 

And  there  is  rued  the  stratagem  that  Troy 

Of  her  Palladium  spoil'd."     "  If  they  have  power 

Of  utterance  from  within  these  sparks,"  said  I, 

"  Oh,  master !   think  my  prayer  a  thousand-fold 

In  repetition  urged,  that  thou  vouchsafe 

To  pause  till  here  the  horned  flame  arrive. 

See,  how  toward  it  with  desire  I  bend." 

He  thus  :    "  Thy  prayer  is  worthy  of  much  praise. 
And  I  accept  it  therefore :   but  do  thou 
Thy  tongue  refrain  :   to  question  them  be  mine ; 
For  I  divine  thy  wish  ;   and  they  perchance. 
For  they  were  Greeks,^  might  shun  discourse  with  thee." 

When  there  the. flame  had  come,  where  time  and  place 
Seem'd  fitting  to  my  guide,  he  thus  began  : 
"  Oh,  ye,  who  dwell  two  spirits  in  one  fire ! 
If,  living,  I  of  you  did  merit  aught, 


1 


•  Ascending  from  that  funeral  pile. — The  flame  is  said 
to  have  divided  on  the  funeral  pile  which  consumed  the 
bodies  of  Eteocles  and  Polynices. 

"  Ecce  iterum  fratris  primos  ut  contigit  artus 
Ignis  edax,  Iremuere  rogi,  et  novus  advena  busto 
Pellitur,  cxundant  diviso  vertice  flammx, 
Akernosque  apices  abrupta  luce  coruscant." 

Statins,  Thebais,  lib.  xii 


»  The  ambush  of  the  horse.— "'V]\e  ambush  of  the 
wooden  horse,  that  caused  ^neas  to  quit  the  city  of  Troy 
and  seek  his  fortune  in  Italy,  where  his  descendants 
founded  the  Roman  Empire." 

'  For  they  were  Greeks. — By  this  it  is,  perhaps,  implied 
that  they  were  haughly  and  arrogant  So,  in  our  poet's 
twenty-fourth  Sonnet,  he  says: 

"  Ed  ella  mi  rispose,  come  un  Greca" 


8l — 113. 


HELL. 


:ANT0   XXVI. 


139 


Whate'er  the  measure  were  of  that  desert, 
When  in  the  world  my  lofty  strain  I  pour'd, 
Move  ye  not  on,  till  one  of  you  unfold 
In  what  clime  death  o'ertook  him  self-destroy'd." 
Of  the  old  flame  forthwith  the  greater  horn 
Began  to  roll,  murmuring,  as  a  fire 
That  labours  with  the  wind,  then  to  and  fro 
Wagging  the  top,  as  a  tongue  uttering  sounds, 
Threw  out  its  voice,  and  spake :    "  When  I  escaped 
From  Circe,  who  beyond  a  circling  year 
Had  held  me  near  Caieta^  by  her  charms, 
Ere  thus  ^neas  yet  had  named  the  shore ; 
Nor  fondness  for  my  son,^  nor  reverence 
Of  my  old  father,  nor  return  of  love. 
That  should  have  crown'd  Penelope  with  joy, 
Could  overcome  in  me  the  zeal  I  had 
To  explore  the  world,  and  search  the  ways  of  life, 
Man's  evil  and  his  virtue.      Forth  I  sail'd 
Into  the  deep  illimitable  main, 
With  but  one  barque,  and  the  small  faithful  band 
That  yet  cleaved  to  me.      As  Iberia  far, 
Far  as  Marocco,  either  shore  I  saw, 
And  the  Sardinian  and  each  isle  beside 
Which  round  that  ocean  bathes.     Tardy  with  age 
Were  I  and  my  companions,  when  we  came 
To  the  strait  pass,^  where  Hercules  ordain'd 
The  boundaries  not  to  be  o'erstepp'd  by  man. 
The  walls  of  Seville  to  my  right  I  left. 
On  the  other  hand  already  Ceuta  past. 
'Oh,  brothers  I'  I  began,  'who  to  the  west 
Through  perils  without  number  now  have  reach'd ; 
To  this  the  short  remaining  watch,  that  yet 


'  Ca»V/a.— Virgil,  "  JEnexA,"  lib.  vii.  I. 
•  Nor   fondness  for    my    son.  —  Imitated    by    Tasso, 
"  Gierusalenune  Liberata,"c.  viii.,  st.  7  : 

"  Ne  timor  di  fatica  6  di  periglio, 
Ne  vaghczza  del  regno,  ne  pietade 
Del  vecchio  genitor,  si  degno  affetto 
Intiepedir  nel  generoso  petto." 


This   imagined  voyage  ol   Ulysses  into  the  Atlantic  is 
alluded  to  by  Pulci ; 

"  E  sopralutto  commendava  Ulisse, 
Che  per  veder  nell'  altro  mondo  gisse." 

Morgante  Maggiore,  c.  xxv. 

And  by  Tasso,  "  Gierusalenime  Liberata,"  c  xv.  25. 
•  The  strait  pass.— The  straits  of  Gibraltar. 


138 


THE   VISION. 


SO— 8a 


I  answer'd,  "  hath  assured  me ;  yet  I  deem'd 

Already  of  the  truth,  already  wish'd 

To  ask  thee  who  is  in  yon  fire,  that  comes 

So  parted  at  the  summit,  as  it  seem'd 

Ascending  from  that  funeral  pile^  where  lay 

The  Theban  brothers."     He  replied  :   "  Within, 

Ulysses  there  and  Diomede  endure 

Their  penal  tortures,  thus  to  vengeance  now 

Together  hasting,  as  erewhile  to  wrath. 

These  in  the  flame  with  ceaseless  groans  deplore 

The  ambush  of  the  horse,^  that  open'd  wide 

A  portal  for  that  goodly  seed  to  pass, 

Which  sow'd  imperial  Rome ;   nor  less  the  guile 

Lament  they,  whence,  of  her  Achilles  'reft, 

Dei'damia  yet  in  death  complains. 

And  there  is  rued  the  stratagem  that  Troy 

Of  her  Palladium  spoil'd."     "  If  they  have  power 

Of  utterance  from  within  these  sparks,"  said  I, 

"  Oh,  master  I   think  my  prayer  a  thousand-fold 

In  repetition  urged,  that  thou  vouchsafe 

To  pause  till  here  the  horned  flame  arrive. 

See,  how  toward  it  with  desire  I  bend." 

He  thus  :    "  Thy  prayer  is  worthy  of  much  praise, 
And  I  accept  it  therefore :   but  do  thou 
Thy  tongue  refrain  :   to  question  them  be  mine ; 
For  I  divine  thy  wish  ;   and  they  perchance. 
For  they  were  Greeks,^  might  shun  discourse  with  thee." 

When  there  the. flame  had  come,  where  time  and  place 
Seem'd  fitting  to  my  guide,  he  thus  began  : 
"  Oh,  ye,  who  dwell  two  spirits  in  one  fire  I 
If,  living,  I  of  you  did  merit  aught, 


•  Ascending  from  that  funeral  pile. — The  flame  is  said 
to  have  divided  on  the  funeral  pile  which  consumed  the 
bodies  of  Eteocles  and  Polynices. 

"  Ecce  itenim  fratris  primos  ut  contigit  artus 
Ignis  edax,  tremuere  rogi,  et  novus  advena  busto 
Pelhtur,  exundant  diviso  vertice  fiammx, 
Alternosque  apices  abrupta  luce  coruscant." 

Slatius,  Tketais,  lib.  xii 


*  The  ambush  of  the  horse.— "Tht  ambush  of  the 
wooden  horse,  thai  caused  /Eneas  to  quit  the  city  of  Troy 
and  seek  his  fortune  in  Italy,  where  his  descendants 
founded  the  Roman  Empire." 

'  For  they  were  Greeks. — By  this  it  is,  perhaps,  implied 
that  they  were  haughty  and  arrogant  So,  in  our  poet's 
twenty-fourth  Sonnet,  he  says : 

"  Ed  ella  mi  rispose,  come  un  Greca" 


8l— H2. 


HELL.- 


;ANT0   XXVI. 


139 


Whate'er  the  measure  were  of  that  desert, 
When  in  the  world  my  lofty  strain  I  pour'd, 
Move  ye  not  on,  till  one  of  you  unfold 
In  what  clime  death  o'ertook  him  self-destroy'd." 
Of  the  old  flame  forthwith  the  greater  horn 
Began  to  roll,  murmuring,  as  a  fire 
That  labours  with  the  wind,  then  to  and  fro 
Wagging  the  top,  as  a  tongue  uttering  sounds, 
Threw  out  its  voice,  and  spake :    "  When  I  escaped 
From  Circe,  who  beyond  a  circling  year 
Had  held  me  near  Caieta^  by  her  charms, 
Ere  thus  ^neas  yet  had  named  the  shore; 
Nor  fondness  for  my  son,^  nor  reverence 
Of  my  old .  father,  nor  return  of  love. 
That  should  have  crown'd  Penelope  with  joy, 
Could  overcome  in  me  the  zeal  I  had 
To  explore  the  world,  and  search  the  ways  of  life, 
Man's  evil  and  his  virtue.      Forth  I  sail'd 
Into  the  deep  illimitable  main, 
With  but  one  barque,  and  the  small  faithful  band 
That  yet  cleaved  to  me.      As  Iberia  far, 
Far  as  Marocco,  either  shore  I  saw. 
And  the  Sardinian  and  each  isle  beside 
Which  round  that  ocean  bathes.     Tardy  with  age 
Were  I  and  my  companions,  when  we  came 
To  the  strait  pass,'  where  Hercules  ordain'd 
The  boundaries  not  to  be  o'erstepp'd  by  man. 
The  walls  of  Seville  to  my  right  I  left. 
On  the  other  hand  already  Ceuta  past. 
'Oh,  brothers!'  I  began,  'who  to  the  west 
Through  perils  without  number  now  have  reach'd ; 
To  this  the  short  remaining  watch,  that  yet 


•  OkV/it.— Virgil,  "j^neid,"  lib.  vii.  I. 

•  A/or  fondntss  for   my    son.  —  Imitated    by    Tasso, 
"  Gierusalemme  Liberata,"  c.  viii.,  st.  7  : 

"  Ne  timor  di  fatica  6  di  periglio, 
Ne  vaghezza  del  regno,  ne  pietade 
Del  vecchio  genltor,  si  degno  affetto 
Intiepedir  nel  generoso  petto." 


This  imagined  voyage  of  Ulysses  into  the  Atlantic  is 
alluded  to  by  Pulci : 

"  E  sopratutto  commendava  Ulisse, 
Che  per  veder  nell'  altro  mondo  gisse." 

Morgante  Maggiore,  c.  xxv. 
And  by  Tasso,  "  Gierusalemme  Liberata,"  c.  xv.  25. 
»  The  strait  pass.— I'ii^  straits  of  Gibraltar. 


140 


THE   VISION. 


113-135. 


Our  senses  have  to  wake,  refuse  not  proof 
Of  the  unpeopled  world,  following  the  track 
Of  Phoebus.     Call  to  mind  from  whence  ye  sprang: 
Ye  were  not  form'd  to  live  the  life  of  brutes, 
But  virtue  to  pursue,  and  knowledge  high.' 
With  these  few  words  I  sharpen'd  for  the  voyage 
The  mind  of  my  associates,  that  I  then 
Could  scarcely  have  withheld  them.      To  the  dawn 
Our  poop  we  turn'd,  and  for  the  witless  flight 
Made  our  oars  wings, ^  still  gaining  on  the  left. 
Each  star  of  the  other  pole  night  now  beheld,* 
And  ours  so  low,  that  from  the  ocean  floor 
It  rose  not.     Five  times  re-illumed,  as  oft 
Vanish'd  the  light  from  underneath  the  moon, 
-  Since  the  deep  way  we  enter'd,  when  from  far 
Appear'd  a  mountain  dim,^  loftiest  methought 
Of  all  I  e'er  beheld.     Joy  seized  us  straight ; 
But  soon  to  mourning  changed.     From  the  new  land 
A  whirlwind  sprung,  and  at  her  foremost  side 
Did  strike  the  vessel.     Thrice*  it  whirl'd  her  round 
With  all  the  waves ;   the  fourth  time  lifted  up 
The  poop,  and  sank  the  prow :  so  fate  decreed : 
And  over  us  the  booming  billow  closed."* 


'  Made  our  oars  wings. — 

"  OOf  tiilipt'  iffTiii,  rd  rt  irrepii  vtivai  jriXowai." 

Homer,  Odyssey,  xi.  124. 
So  Chiabrera,  "  Canz.  Eroiche,"  xiii : 

"  Faro  de'  remi  un  volo." 
And  Tasso,  Ibid.,  26. 

'  Ni^ht  now  deheld—PetTZxch  is  here  cited  by  Loin- 
bardi : 

"  Ne  li  su  sopra  il  cerchio  della  luna 
Vide  mai  tante  stelle  alcuna  notie." 

Cam.,  xxxvii.  I. 
"  Nor  there  above  the  circle  of  the  moon 
Did  ever  night  behold  so  many  stars." 
■  •  A   mountain  dim.  —  The    mouptain   of    Purgatory. 
Amongst  the  various  opinions  of  theologians  respecting 
the  situation  of  the  terrestrial  paradise,  Pictro  Lombardo 
relates  that  "  it  was  separated  by  a  long  space,  either  of 
Ma  or  land,  from  the  regions  inhabited  by  men,  and 


placed  in  the  ocean,  reaching  as  far  as  to  the  lunar  circle, 
so  that  the  waters  of  the  deluge  did  not  reach  iV—Sent., 
lib.  iL,  dist  1 7.     Thus  Lombardi. 

*  Ihrice.— 

"  Ast  ilium  ter  fluctus  ibidem 

Torquet  agens  circum,  et  rapidus  vorat  aequore  vortex." 

Virgil,  ACiteid,  lib.  L  1 16. 

»  Closed. — Venturi  refers  to  Pliny  and  Solinus  for  the 
opinion  that  Ulysses  was  the  founder  of  Lisbon,  from 
whence  he  thinks  it  was  easy  for  the  fancy  of  a  poet  to 
send  him  on  yet  further  enterprises.  Perhaps  the  story 
(which  it  is  not  unlikely  that  our  author  will  be  found  to 
have  borrowed  from  some  legend  of  the  Middle  Ages) 
may  have  taken  its  rise  partly  from  the  obscure  oracle 
returned  by  the  ghost  of  Tiresias  to  Ulysses  (see  the 
eleventh  book  of  the  "  Odyssey "),  and  partly  from  the 
fate  which  there  was  reason  to  suppose  had  befallen  some 
adventurous  explorers  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 


CANTO     XXVII. 


ARGUMENT. 

The  poet,  treating  of  the  same  punishment  as  in  the  last  canto,  relates  that  he  turned  towards  a  flame  in  which  was  the 
Count  Guido  da  Montefeltro,  whose  inquiries  respecting  the  state  of  Romagna  he  answers ;  and  Guido  is  thereby 
induced  to  declare  who  he  is,  and  why  condemned  to  that  torment 

XT  OW  upward  rose  the  flame,  and  still'd  its  light 

To  speak  no  more,  and  now  pass'd  on  with  leave 
From  the  mild  poet  gain'd  ;   when  following  came 
Another,  from  whose  top  a  sound  confused. 
Forth  issuing,  drew  our  eyes  that  way  to  look. 

As  the  Sicilian  bull,'  that  rightfully 
His  cries  first  echoed  who  had  shaped  its  mould, 
Did  so  rebellow,  with  the  voice  of  him 
Tormented,  that  the  brazen  monster  seem'd 
Pierced  through  with  pain  ;  thus,  while  no  way  they  found, 
Nor  avenue  immediate  through  the  flame, 
Into  its  language  turn'd  the  dismal  words : 
But  soon  as  they  had  won  their  passage  forth, 
Up  from  the  point,  which  vibrating  obey'd 
Their  motion  at  the  tongue,  these  sounds  were  heard : 
"Oh,  thou  I  to  whom.  I  now  direct  my  voice. 
That  lately  didst  exclaim  in  Lombard  phrase, 
'Depart  thou;    I  solicit  thee  no  more;' 
Though  somewhat  tardy  I  perchance  arrive, 
Let  it  not  irk  thee  here  to  pause  awhile, 
And  with  me  parley :   lo  I    it  irks  not  me, 
And  yet  I  burn.      If  but  e'en  now  thou  fall 
Into  this  blind  world,  from  that  pleasant  land 
Of  Latium,  whence  I  draw  my  sum  of  guilt, 
Tell  me  if  those  who  in  Romagna  dwell 


•  The  Sicilian  bull.— The  engine  of  torture  invented  by  Perilhis,  for  the  tyrant  Phalaris; 


142 


THE  VISION. 


a6-45 


Have  peace  or  war.     For  of  the  mountains  there^ 
Was  I,  betwixt  Urbino  and  the  height 
Whence  Tiber  first  unlocks  his  mighty  flood." 

Leaning  I  listen'd  yet  with  heedful  ear, 
When,  as  he  touch'd  my  side,  the  leader  thus : 
"  Speak  thou  :   he  is  a  Latian."     My  reply 
Was  ready,  and  I  spake  without  delay : 
"  Oh,  spirit  I   who  art  hidden  here  below, 
Never  was  thy  Romagna  without  war 
In  her  proud  tyrants'  bosoms,  nor  is  now: 
But  open  war  there  left  I  none.     The  state, 
Ravenna  hath  maintain'd  this  many  a  year. 
Is  steadfast.     There  Polenta's  eagle*^  broods ; 
And  in  his  broad  circumference  of  plume 
O'ershadows  Cervia.     The  green  talons  grasp 
The  land,^  that  stood  erewhile  the  proof  so  long 
And  piled  in  bloody  heap  the  host  of  France. 

"The  old  mastiff  of  Verruchio  and  the  young,* 
That  tore  Montagna^  in  their  wrath,  still  make, 
Where  they  are  wont,  an  auger  of  their  fangs. 


'  Of  the  mountains  there. — Montefeltro. 

'  Polenta' s  eagle.— GwAo  Novello  da  Polenta,  who  bore 
an  eagle  for  his  coat  of  arms.  The  name  of  Polenta  was 
derived  from  a  castle  so  called,  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Brittonoro.  Cervia  is  a  small  maritime  city,  about  fifteen 
miles  to  the  south  of  Ravenna.  Guido  was  the  son  of 
Ostasio  da  Polenta,  and  made  himself  master  of  Ravenna 
in  1265.  In  1322  he  was  deprived  of  his  sovereignty,  and 
died  at  Bologna  in  the  year  following.  This  last  and 
most  munificent  patron  of  Dante  is  himself  enumerated, 
by  the  historian  of  Italian  literature,  among  the  poets  of 
his  time.  Tiraboschi,  "  Storia  della  Lett.  Ital.,"  torn,  v., 
lib.  iii.,  c.  ii.,  §  xiii.  The  passage  in  the  text  might  have 
removed  the  uncertainty  which  Tiraboschi  expressed, 
respecting  the  duration  of  Guido's  absence  from  Ravenna, 
when  he  was  driven  from  that  city  in  1295,  by  the  arms 
of  Pietro,  Archbishop  of  Monreale.  It  must  evidently 
have  been  very  short,  since  his  government  is  here  repre- 
sented (in  1300)  as  not  having  suffered  any  material  dis- 
turbance for  many  years.  In  the  Proemium  to  the  Anno- 
tations on  the  "Decameron"  of  Boccaccio,  written  by 
those  who  were  deputed  to  that  work,  Ediz.  Giunti,  1573, 
it  is  said  of  Guido  Novello,  "  Del  quale  si  leggono  ancora 
alcune  composizioni,  per  poche  che  elle  sieno,  secondo 
quella  eti,  belle  e  Icggiadre;"  and  in  the  collection  edited 
by  AUacci  at  Naples,  1661,  p.  382,  is  a  sonnet  of  his, 
which  breathes  a  high  and  pure  spirit  of  Platonism. 
Among  the  MSS.  of  the  "Iliad"  in  the  Ambrosian 
Library  at  Milan,  described  by  Mai,  there  is  one  that  was 
in  the  possession  of  Guido.    lliadis  Fragmenta,  &•<•.,  foL, 


Medial.  18 19.  Proemium,  p.  xlviiL  It  was,  perhaps, 
seen  by  Dante.  To  this  account  I  must  now  subjoin  that 
which  has  since  been  given,  but  without  any  reference  to 
authorities,  by  Troya:  "In  the  course  of  eight  years, 
from  131010  1318,  Guido  III.  of  Polenta,  father  of  Fran- 
cesca,  together  with  his  sons  Bernardino  and  Ostasio, 
had  died.  A  third  son,  named  Bannino,  was  father  of 
Guido  IV.  Of  these  two  it  is  not  known  whether  they 
held  the  lordship  of  Ravenna,  But  it  came  to  the  sons  of 
Ostasio,  Guido  V,  called  Novello,  and  Rinaldo,  the  arch- 
bishop: on  the  sons  of  Bernardino  devolved  the  sove- 
reignty of  the  neighbouring  city  of  Cervia."  — Veltro 
Allegorico  di  Dante,  ed.  1826,  p.  176. 

•  The  land. — The  territory  of  Foili,  the  inhabitants  of 
which,  in  1282,  were  enabled,  by  the  stratagem  of  Guido 
da  Montefeltro,  who  then  governed  it,  to  defeat  with  great 
slaughter  the  French  army  by  which  it  had  been  besieged. 
See  G.  Villani,  lib.  vii.,  c.  Ixxxi.  The  poet  informs  Guido, 
its  former  ruler,  that  it  is  now  in  the  possession  of  Sini- 
baldo  Ordolaffi,  or  Ardelaffi,  whom  he  designates  by  his 
coat  of  arms,  a  lion  vert. 

•  Tlie  old  mastiff  of  Vemuhio  and  the  young. — Mala- 
testa  and  Malatestino  his  son,  lords  of  Rimini,  called, 
from  their  ferocity,  the  mastiffs  of  Verruchio,  which  was 
the  name  of  their  castle.  Malatestino  was,  perhaps,  the 
husband  of  Francesca,  daughter  of  Guido  da  Polenta. 
See  Notes  to  canto  v.  1 13. 

•  /l/(7;j/a^(Z.— Montagna  de'  Parcitati,  a  noble  knight, 
and  leader  of  the  Ghibelline  party  at  Rimini,  murdered 
by  Malatestino. 


46-75. 


HELL. CANTO   XXVII. 


143 


"  Lamone's  city,  and  Santerno's,^  range 
Under  the  lion  of  tiie  snowy  lair,*^ 
Inconstant  partisan,  that  changeth  sides, 
Or  ever  summer  yields  to  winter's  frost. 
And  she.  whose  flank  is  wash'd  of  Savio's  wave,^ 
As  'twixt  the  level  and  the  steep  she  lies, 
Lives  so  'twixt  tyrant  power  and  liberty. 

"  Now  tell  us,  I  entreat  thee,  who  art  thou : 
Be  not  more  hard  than  others.     In  the  world, 
So  may  thy  name  still  rear  its  forehead  high." 

Then  roar'd  awhile  the  fire,  its  sharpen'd  point 
On  either  side  waved,  and  thus  breathed  at  last: 
"  If  I  did  think  my  answer  were  to  one 
Who  ever  could  return  unto  the  world, 
This  flame  should  rest  unshaken.     But  since  ne'er, 
If  true  be  told  me,  any  from  this  depth 
Has  found  his  upward  way,  I  answer  thee, 
Nor  fear  lest  infamy  record  the  words. 

"A  man  of  arms*  at  first,  I  clothed  me  then 
In  good  Saint  Francis'  girdle,  hoping  so 
To  have  made  amends.     And  certainly  my  hope 
Had  fail'd  not,  but  that  he,  whom  curses  light  on, 
The  high  priest,®  again  seduced  me  into  sin. 
And  how,  and  wherefore,  listen  while  I  tell. 
Long  as  this  spirit  moved  the  bones  and  pulp 
My  mother  gave  me,  less  my  deeds  bespake 
The  nature  of  the  lion  than  the  fox.* 
All  ways  of  winding  subtlety  I  knew. 
And  with  such  art  conducted,  that  the  sound 
Reach'd  the  world's  limit.     Soon  as  to  that  part 


'  Lamor.^s  city,  and  Santerno's. — Lamone  is  the  river 
at  Faenza,  and  Santerno  at  Itnola. 

'  The  lion  of  the  snowy  lair. — Machtnardo  Pagano, 
whose  arms  were  a  lion  azure  on  a  field  argent ;  men- 
tioned again  in  the  "  Purgatory,"  canto  xiv.  122.  See 
G.  Villani  passim,  where  he  is  called  Machinardo  da 
Susinana. 

•  Whose  flank  is  wash'd  of  Savio's  wave. — Cesena, 
situated  at  the  foot  of  a  mountain,  and  washed  by  the 
river  Savio,  that  often  descends  with  a  swollen  and  rapid 
stream  from  the  Apennine. 


*  A  man  of  arms. — Guido  da  Montefeltro. 

•  The  high  priest.— Bomia.c&Vni. 

'  The  nature  of  the  lion  than  tJiefox. — 

"  Non  furon  leonine  ma  di  volpe." 

So  Pulci,  "Morgante  Maggiore,"  c  xix. : 

"  E  furon  le  sue  opre  e  le  sue  colpe 
Non  creder  leonine  ma  di  volpe." 

"  Fraus  quasi  vulpeculse,  vis  leonis  videtur." 

Cicero  de  OJjiciis,  lib.  i.,  c.  13. 


142 


Have  peace  or  wa^. 
Was  I,  betwixt  T 
Whence  Tiber  l^ 

Leaning  \f. 
When,  as  he(f 
"  Speak  tlio 
Was  ready 
"  Oh,  spi4,^ 
Never  v 


\ 


% 


76-98 


% 


He,  his 
In  himseh 
Which  used 
As  in  Soractt 
To  cure  his  le^ 


•  To  lower  sails.— 0\ir  poet  had  the  satrn.  • 
thought  as  wlien  he  wrote  that  most  beautiful  passajo— 
his  "Convito,"  beginning  "E  qui  6  da  sapere,  che  siccome' 
dice  TuUio  in  quelle  di  Senettute,  la  nalurale  morte,"&c., 
p.  209.  "As  it  hath  been  said  by  Cicero,  in  his  treatise 
on  old  age,  natural  death  is  like  a  port  and  haven  to  us 
after  a  long  voyage  ;  and  even  as  the  good  mariner,  wlien 
he  draws  near  the  port,  lowers  his  sails,  and  enters  it 
sofily  with  a  weak  and  inoffensive  motion,  so  ought  we  to 
lower  the  sails  of  our  worldly  operations,  and  to  return  to 
God  with  all  our  understanding  and  heart,  to  the  end  thai 
v/e  may  reach  this  haven  with  all  quietness  and  with  all 
peace.  And  herein  we  are  mightily  instructed  by  Nature 
in  a  lesson  of  mildness ;  for  in  such  a  death  itself  there  is 
neither  pain  nor  bitterness  ;  but,  as  ripe  fruit  is  lightly 
and  without  violence  loosened  from  its  branch,  so  our  soul 
without  grieving  departs  from  the  body  in  which  it  hath 
been.'' 

"  So  mayst  thou  live,  till  like  ripe  fruit  thou  drop 
Into  thy  niotliers  lap,  or  be  with  ease 
Gather'd,  not  harshly  pluck'd,  for  death  mature." 

Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  b.  x*.  537. 

•  Tkt  chief  0/  the  new  Pharisees. — Boniface  VIII., 
whose  enmity  to  the  family  of  Colonna  prompted  him  to 
destroy  their  houses  near  tlie  Lateran.  Wishing  to  obtain 
possession  of  their  other  seat,  Penestrino,  he  consulted 
with  Guido  da  Montefeltro  how  he  might  accomplish  his 
purpose,  offering  him  at  the  same  time  absolutioi  for  his 
past  sins,  as  well  as  for  that  which  Jie  was  then  tempting 
him  to  commit.  Guido's  advice  was,  that  kind  T/ords  and 
fair  promises  would  put  his  enemies  into  his  pt  wer ;  and 
they  accordingly  soon  afterwards  fell  into  the  snare  laid 
for  them,  A.D.  1298.  See  G.  Villani,  lib.  viiu,  c.  xxiii. 
There  is  a  relation  similar  to  this  in  the  iiistorj  of  Ferreto 
Vincentino,  lib.  ii.,  anno  1294;  and  the  write-  adds  tliat 
our  poet  had  justly  condemned  Guido  to  the  tjrments  he 
has  allotted  him.  See  Muratori,  "  Script.  Ita!.,"  torn,  ix., 
p.  07a  where  the  editor  observes :  "  Probosi   liujus  faci- 


ationi  fidem  adjungere  nemo  probus  velit,  quod 
nxerint  Bonifacii  aemuli,"  &c.  And  indeed  it 
seem  as  if  Dante  himself  had  either  not  heard  or 
id  not  believed  the  report  of  Guido's  having  sold  him- 
self thus  foolishly  to  the  Pope,  when  he  wrote  the  passage 
in  the  "  Convito,"  cited  in  the  Note  to  line  77  ;  for  he  soon 
after  speaks  of  him  as  one  of  those  noble  spirits  "who, 
when  they  approached  the  last  haven,  lowered  the  sails  of 
their  worldly  operations,  and  gave  themselves  up  to 
religion  in  their  old  age,  laying  aside  every  worldly  delight 
and  wish." 

•  Nor  against  Acre  one  had  fought. — He  alludes  to  the 
renegade  Christians,  by  whom  the  Sarace.is,  in  April, 
1291,  were  assisted  to  recover  St.  John  d'Acre,  the  last 
possession  of  the  Christians  in  the  Holy  Land.  The 
regret  expressed  by  the  Florentine  annalist,  G.  Villani,  for 
the  loss  of  this  valuable  fortress,  is  well  worthy  of  observa- 
tion, lib.  vii.,  c.  cxliv.  :  "  From  this  event  Christendom 
suffered  the  greatest  detriment :  for  by  the  loss  of  Acre 
there  no  longer  remained  in  the  Holy  Land  any  fooling 
for  the  Christians  ;  and  all  our  good  maritime  places  of 
trade  never  afterwards  derived  half  the  advantage  from 
their  merchandise  and  manufactures ;  so  favourable  was 
the  situation  of  the  city  of  Acre,  in  the  vei7  front  of  our 
sea,  in  the  middle  of  Syria,  and  as  it  were  in  the  middle 
of  the  inhabited  world,  seventy  miles  from  Jerusalem, 
both  source  and  receptacle  of  every  kind  of  merchandise, 
as  well  from  the  east  as  from  the  west ;  the  resort  of  all 
people  from  all  countries,  and  of  the  eastern  nations  of 
every  different  tongue;  so  that  it  might  be  considered  as 
the  aliment  of  the  world." 

*  As  in  Scracte,  Constantine  besought. — So  in  Dante's 
treatise,  "  Ue  Monarchia  :"  "  Dicunt  quidam  adhuc,  quod 
Constantinus  Imperator,  mundntus  a  lepra  intercessione 
Sylvestri,  tunc  summi  pontificis,  imperii  sedem,  scilicet 
Romam,  donavit  ecclesije,  cum  mullis  aliis  imperii  digni- 
tatibus,"  lib.  iii.  Compare  Fazio  degh  Uberti,  "  Ditta- 
mondo,"  lib.  ii.,  cap.  xii. 


9i-'2S-  HELL. — CANTO   XXVII. 

So  me,  to  cure  the  fever  of  his  pride, 

This  man  besought :    my  counsel  to  that  end 

He  ask'd  ;   and  I  was  silent ;    for  his  words 

Seem'd  drunken:   but  forthwith  he  thus  resumed: 

'  From  thy  heart  banish  fear :   of  all  offence 

I  hitherto  absolve  thee.      In  return, 

Teach  me  my  purpose  so  to  execute. 

That  Penestrino  cumber  earth  no  more. 

Heaven,  as  thou  knowest,  I  have  no  power  to  shut 

And  open :   and  the  keys  are  therefore  twain, 

The  which  my  predecessor'  meanly  prized.' 

"  Then,  yielding  to  the  forceful  arguments, 
Of  silence  as  more  perilous  I  deem'd, 
And  answer'd  :    '  Father  I   since  thou  washest  me 
Clear  of  that  guilt  wherein  I  now  must  fall. 
Large  promise  with  performance  scant,  be  sure. 
Shall  make  thee  triumph  in  thy  lofty  seat.' 

"  When  I  was  number'd  with  the  dead,  then  came 
Saint  Francis  for  me ;   but  a  cherub  dark 
He  met,  who  cried,  '  Wrong  me  not ;   he  is  mine, 
And  must  below  to  join  the  wretched  crew, 
For  the  deceitful  counsel  which  he  gave. 
E'er  since  I  watch'd  him,  hovering  at  his  hair. 
No  power  can  the  impenitent  absolve ; 
Nor  to  repent,  and  will,  at  once  consist, 
By  contradiction  absolute  forbid.' 
Oh,  misery  I  how  I  shook  myself,  when  he 
Seized  me,  and  cried,  'Thou  haply  thought'st  me  not 
A  disputant  in  logic  so  exact!' 
To  Minos  down  he  bore  me;   and  the  judge 
Twined  eight  times  round  his  callous  back  the  tail, 
Which  biting  with  excess  of  rage,  he  spake : 
'This  is  a  guilty  soul,  that  in  the  fire 
Must  vanish.'      Hence,  perdition-doom'd,  I  rove 
A  prey  to  rankling  sorrow,  in  this  garb." 


145 


'  My  predecessor. — Celestine  V.     See  Notes  to  canto  iiL 


146  THE  VISION.  ia6-i3- 

When  he  had  thus  fulfill'd  his  words,  the  flame 
In  dolour  parted,  beating  to  and  fro. 
And  writhing  its  sharp  horn.      We  onward  went, 
1  and  my  leader,  up  along  the  rock, 
Far  as  another  arch,  that  overhangs 
The  fosse,  wherein  the  penalty  is  paid 
Of  those  who  load  them  with  committed  sin. 


CANTO     XXVIII. 


ARGUMENT. 

They  arrive  in  the  ninth  gul^  where  the  sowers  of  scandal,  schismatics,  and  heretics  are  seen  with  their  limbs  miserably- 
maimed  or  divided  in  different  ways.  Among  these  the  poet  finds  Mahomet,  Piero  da  Medicina,  Curio,  Mosca,  and 
Bertrand  de  Born. 

"\  ^/"HO,  e'en  in  words  unfetter'd,  might  at  full 

Tell  of  the  wounds  and  blood  that  now  I  saw, 
Though  he  repeated  oft  the  tale  ?      No  tongue 
So  vast  a  theme  could  equal,  speech  and  thought 
Both  impotent  alike.      If  in  one  band 
Collected,  stood  the  people  all,  who  e'er 
Pour'd  on  Apulia's  happy  soil'  their  blood, 
Slain  by  the  Trojans,*^  and  in  that  long  war,^ 
When  of  the  rings*  the  measured  booty  made 
A  pile  so  high,  as  Rome's  historian  writes 
Who  errs  not ;   with  the  multitude,  that  felt 
The  griding  force  of  Guiscard's  Norman  steel,* 
And  those  the  rest,*  whose  bones  are  gather'd  yet 
At  Ceperano,  there  where  treachery 


'  Happy  soil. — There  is  a  strange  discordance  here 
among  the  expounders.  "  'Fortunata  terra,'  because.of  tlie 
vicissitudes  of  fortune  which  it  experienced,"  Landino. 
"  Fortunate,  with  respect  to  those  who  conquered  in  it," 
Vellutello.  "  Or  on  account  of  its  natural  fertility," 
Venturi.  "The  context  requires  that  we  should  under- 
stand by  '  fortunata,'  '  calamitous,'  '  disgraziata,'  to  which 
sense  the  word  is  extended  in  the  'Vocabulary'  of  La 
Crusca,"  Lombard!.  Volpi  is  silent.  On  this  note  the 
late  Archdeacon  Fisher  favoured  me  with  the  following 
remark:  "Volpi  is,  indeed,  silent  at  the  passage ;  but  in 
the  article  'Puglia,'  in  his  second  Index,  he  writes, '  Dante 
la  chiama  fortunata,  cioe  pingue  e  feconda.'  This  is  your 
own  translation,  and  is  the  same  word  in  meaning  with 
lilmiiutv  and _/&//>,  in  Xenophon's  'Anabasis'  and  Horace 
passim." 

'  TAe  Trojans.  — Some  MSB.  have  "  Romani,"  and 
Lombard!  has  admitted  it  into  the  text  Venturi  had, 
indeed,  before  met  with  the  same  reading  in  some  edition, 
but  he  has  not  told  us  in  which. 

•  In  that  long  war. — The  war  of  Hannibal  in  Italy 


"  When  Mago  brought  news  of  his  victories  to  Carthage, 
in  order  to  make  his  successes  more  easily  credited,  he 
commanded  the  golden  rings  to  be  poured  out  in  the 
senate-house,  which  made  so  large  a  heap,  that,  as  some 
relate,  they  filled  three  modii  and  a  half.  A  more  pro- 
bable account  represents  them  not  to  have  exceeded  one 
viodius." — Livy,  Hist.,  lib.  xxiii.  12. 

•  The  rings. — So  Frezzi : 

"  Non  quella,  che  riempie  i  moggi  d'anella." 

//  Quadriregio,  lib.  ii.,  cap.  9. 

•  Guiscard's  Nortnan  j/«/.  — Robert  Guiscard,  who 
conquered  the  kingdom  of  Naples,  and  died  in  11 10. 
G.  Villani,  lib.  iv.,  cap.  xviii.  He  is  introduced  in  the 
"  Paradise,"  canto  xviii. 

•  And  those  the  rest.—Tht  army  of  Manfredi,  which, 
through  the  treachery  of  the  Apulian  troops,  was  over- 
come by  Charles  of  Anjou  in  1265,  and  fell  in  such 
numbers,  that  the  bones  of  the  slain  were  still  gathered 
near  Ceperano.  G.  Villani,  lib.  vii.,  cap.  ix.  See  the 
"  Purgatory,"  canto  iii. 


148 


THE  VISION. 

Branded  the  ApuHan  name,  or  where  beyond 
Thy  walls,  O  Tagliacozzo,>  without  arms 
The  old  Alardo  conquer'd  ;   and  his  limbf. 
One  were  to  show  transpierced,  another  his 
Clean  lopt  away;   a  spectacle  like  this 
Were  but  a  thing  of  nought,  to  the  hideous  sight 
Of  the  ninth  chasm.      A  ruridlet,  that  hath  lost 
Its  middle  or  side  stave,  gapes  not  so  wide 
As  one  I  mark'd,.  torn  from  the  chin  throughout 
Down  to  the  hinder  passage :    'twixt  the  legs 
Dangling  his  entrails  hung,  the  midriff  lay 
Open  to  view;  and  wretched  ventricle, 
That  turns  the  englutted  aliment  to  dross. 
Whilst  eagerly  1  fix  on  him  my  gaze, 
He  eyed  me^  with  his  hands  laid  his  breast  bare. 
And  cried,  "  Now  mark  how  I  do  rip  me :    lo  I 
How  is  Mahomet  mangled  :   before  me 
Walks  Ali'^  weeping,  from  the  chin  his  face 
Cleft  to  the  forelock ;   and  the  others  all. 
Whom  here  thou  seest,  while  they  lived,  did  sow 
Scandal  and  schism,  and  therefore  thus  are  rent. 
A  fiend  is  here  behind,  who  with  his  sword 
Hacks  us  thus  cruelly,  slivering  again 
Each  of  this  realm,  when  we  have  compast  round 
The  dismal  way ;    for  first  our  gashes  close 
Ere  we  re-pass  before  him.      But,  say  who 
Art  thou,  that  standest  musing  on  the  rock, 
Haply  so  lingering  to  delay  the  pain 
Sentenced  upon  thy  crimes."     "  Him  death  not  yet," 
My  guide  rejoin'd,  ."hath  overta'en,  nor  sin 
Conducts-  to  torment ;   but,  that  he  may  make 
Full  trial  of, your  state;  I  who  am  dead 
Must  through  the  depths  of  hell,  from  orb  to  orb, 
Conduct  him.      Trust  my  words  ;    for  they  are  true." 


15—48. 


'  Or  -where  beyond 

Thy  walls,  O   Tagliacozzo. — 
He  alludes  to   the  victory  which  Charles  gained  over 


Conradino,  by  the  sage  advice  of  the  Sieur  de  Valeri,  in 
1268.     G.  Viliani,  lib.  vii.,  c.  xxvii. 
»  .4//.— The  disciple  of  Mahomet 


A  140- 


"  Now  mark  liovv  1  do  rip  mc  :  lo  ! 
How  is  Mahomet  mangled." 

Canto  XXV in.,  lines  30,  31 


•a 

c 

■§ 
o 


o 


c    « 


.•o 

4J 


o 
o 


49-74- 


HELL. — CANTO   XXVIII. 


149 


-More  than  a  hundred  spirits,  when  that  they  heard, 
Stood. in  the  fosse  to  mark  me,  through  amaze 
Forgetful  of  their  pangs.     "  Thou,  who  perchance 
Shalt  shortly  view  the  sun,  this  warning  thou 
Bear  to  Dolcino:^   bid  him,  if  he  wish  not 
Here  soon  to  follow  me,  that  with  good  store 
Of  food  he  arm  him,  lest  imprisoning  snows 
Yield  him  a  victim  to  Novara's  power ; 
No  easy  conquest  else : "   with  foot  upraised 
For  stepping,  spake  Mahomet,  on  the  ground 
Then  fix'd  it  to  depart.     Another  shade, 
Pierced  in  the  throat,  his  nostrils  mutilate 
E'en  from  beneath  the  eyebrows,  and  one  ear 
Lopt  off,  who,  with  the  rest,  through  wonder  stood 
Gazing,  before  the  rest  advanced,  and  bared 
His  windpipe,  that  without  was  all  o'ersmear'd 
With  crimson  stain.      "Oh,  thou  I"   said  he,    "whom  sin 
Condemns  not,  and  whom  erst  (unless  too  near 
Resemblance  do  deceive  me)  I  aloft 
Have  seen  on  Latian  ground,  call  thou  to  mind 
Piero  of  Medicina,^  if  again 
Returning,  thou  behold'st  the  pleasant  land* 
That  from  Vercelli  slopes  to  Mercabo ; 
And  there  instruct  the  twain,*  whom  Fano  boasts 
Her  worthiest  sons,  Guido  and  Angelo, 
That  if  'tis  given  us  here  to  scan  aright 


'  DoUino.-"  In  1^05  a  friar,  called  Dolcino,  who  be- 
longed to  no  regular  order,  contrived  to  raise  in  Novara, 
in  Lombard/,  a  laige  company  of  the  meaner  sort  of 
people,  declaring  himself  to  be  a  true  apostle  of  Christ, 
and  promulgating  a  community  of  property  and  of  wives, 
with  many  other  such  heretical  doctrines.  He  blamed 
the  Pope,  cardinals,  and  other  prelates  of  the  holy  Church, 
for  not  observing  their  duty,  nor  leading  the  angelic  life, 
and  affirmed  that  he  ought  to  be  pope.  He  was  followed 
by  more  than  3,000  men  and  women,  who  lived  promis- 
cuously on  the  mountains  together,  like  beasts,  and,  when 
they  wanted  provisions,  supplied  themselves  by  depreda- 
tion and  rapine.  This  lasted  for  two  years,  till  many 
being  struck  with  compunction  at  the  dissolute  life  they 
led,  his  sect  was  much  diminished;  and,  through  failure 
of  food  and  the  severity  of  the  snows,  he  was  taken  by 
the  people  of  Novara,  and  burnt,  with  Margarita,  his 
companion,  and  many  other  men  and  women  whom  his 
errors  had   seduced."  —  G.    Villani,   lib.   viii.,  c.   Ixxxiv. 


Landino  observes  that  he  was  possessed  of  singular  elo- 
quence, and  that  both  he  and  Margarita  endured  their 
fate  with  a  firmness  worthy  of  a  better  cause.  For  a 
further  account  of  him,  see  Muratori,  "  Rcrum  Italicarum 
Scriptores,"tom.  ix.,  p.  427.  Fazio  degli  Uberti,  speaking 
of  the  polygamy  allowed  by  Mahomet,  adds : 

"E  qui  con  fra  Dolcin  par  che  s'intenda." 

Ditlavtondo,  lib.  v.,  cap.  xii. 

'  Meiiicina. — A  place  in  the  territory  of  Bologna.  Piero 
fomented  dissensions  among  the  inhabitants  of  that  city, 
and  among  the  leaders  of  the  neighbouring  states. 

'  The  pleasant  land. — Lombardy. 

'  The  (wain. — Guido  del  Casscro  and  Angiolello  da 
Cagnnno,  two  of  the  worthiest  and  most  distinguished 
citizens  of  Fano,  were  invited  by  Malatestino  da  Rimini 
to  an  entertainment,  on  pretence  that  he  had  some  im- 
portant business  to  transact  with  them  ;  and,  according 
to  instructions  given  by  him,  they  were  drowned  in  their 
passage  near  Cattolica,  between  Rimini  and  Fano. 


ISO 


THE  VISION. 


75— loa. 


The  future,  they  out  of  life's  tenement' 

Shall  be  cast  forth,  and  whelm'd  under  the  waves 

Near  to  Cattolica,  through  perfidy 

Of  a  fell  tyrant.      'Twixt  the  Cyprian  isle 

And  Balearic,  ne'er  hath  Neptune  seen 

An  injury  so  foul,  by  pirates  done. 

Or  Argive  crew  of  old.      That  one-eyed  traitor 

(Whose  realm,  there  is  a  spirit  here  were  fain 

His  eye  had  still  lack'd  sight  of)  them  shall  bring 

To  conference  with  him,  then  so  shape  his  end. 

That  they  shall  need  not  'gainst  Focara's  wind* 

Offer  up  vow  nor  prayer."      I  answering  thus : 

"  Declare,  as  thou  dost  wish  that  I  above 

May  carry  tidings  of  ihee,  who  is  he. 

In  whom  that  sight  doth  wake  such  sad  remembrance." 

Forthwith  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  cheek-bone 
Of  one,  his  fellow-spirit,  and  his  jaws 
Expanding,  cried:    "Lot   this  is  he  I  wot  of: 
He  speaks  not  for  himself:    the  outcast  this, 
Who  overwhelm 'd  the  doubt  in  Caesar's  mind,' 
Affirming  that  delay  to  men  prepared 
Was  ever  harmful."      Oh !    how  terrified 
Mcthought  was  Curio,  from  whose  throat  was  cut 
The  tongue,  which  spake  that  hardy  word.      Then  one, 
Maim'd  of  each  hand,  uplifted  in  the  gloom 
The  bleeding  stumps,  that  they  with  gory  spots 
Sullied  his  face,  and  cried  :    "  Remember  thee 
Of  Mosca*  too ;    I  who,  alas  1   exclaim'd, 


'  OvI  of  life's  tenement. — "  Fuor  di  lor  vascllo"  is  con- 
strued, by  the  old  Latin  annotator  on  the  Monte  Casino 
MS.  and  by  I.ombardi,  "out  of  the  ship."  Volpi  under- 
stands "vascllo  "  to  mean  "their  city  or  country."  Others 
take  the  word  in  the  sense  according  to  which,  though 
not  without  some  doubt,  it  is  rendered  in  this  trans- 
lation. 

'  Fccara's  wind. — Focara  is  a  mountain,  from  which  a 
wind  blows  that  is  peculiarly  dangerous  to  the  navigators 
of  that  coast. 

•  T/ie  doubt  in  Ccesar's  tnind. — Curio,  whose  speech 
(according  to  Lucari)  determined  Julius  Cssar  to  proceed 
when  he  had  arrived  at  Rimini  (the  ancient  Ariminum), 
and  doubted  whether  he  should  prosecute  the  civil 
war: 


"ToUe  moras :  semper  nocuit  difTerre  paratis." 

Pharsalia,  L  i.  281. 

"  Haste,  then,  thy  towering  eagles  on  their  way; 
When  fair  occasion  calls,  'tis  fatal  to  delay."— /?(7a«. 

*  Mosca. — Buondelmonte  was  engaged  to  marry  a  lady 
of  the  Amidei  family,  but  broke  his  promise,  and  united 
himself  to  one  of  the  Uonati.  This  was  so  much  resented 
by  the  former,  that  a  meeting  of  themselves  and  their 
kinsmen  was  held,  to  consider  of  the  best  means  of  re- 
venging the  insult.  Mosca  degli  Uberti,  or  de'  Lamberti, 
persuaded  them  to  resolve  on  the  assassination  of  Buon- 
delmonte, exclaiming  to  them,  "The  thing  once  done, 
there  is  an  end."  The  counsel  and  its  effects  were  the 
source  of  many  terrible  calamities  to  the  state  of  Florence : 


^ 


/.  i5«- 


By  the  hair 
U  bore  the  sever'd  member,  lantern-wise 
Pendent  in  hand,  which  look'd  at  us,  and  said, 
"Woe's  mel" 

Canto  XXVIII.,  lines  Ii6-iig. 


103— 130 


HELL, 


:ANT0    XXVIII, 


15^ 


*  The  deed  once  done,  there  is  an  end,'  that  proved 
A  seed  of  sorrow  to  the  Tuscan  race." 

I  added  :    "  Ay,  and  death  to  thine  own  tribe." 
Whence,  heaping  woe  on  woe,  he  hurried  off, 
As  one  grief-stung  to  madness.      But  I  there 
Still  linger'd  to  behold  the  troop,  and  saw 
Thing,  such  as  I  may  fear  without  more  proof 
To  tell  of,  but  that  conscience  makes  me  firm, 
The  boon  companion, ^  who  her  strong  breastplate 
Buckles  on  him,  that  feels  no  guilt  within. 
And  bids  him  on  and  fear  not.     Without  doubt 
I  saw,  and  yet  it  seems  to  pass  before  me, 
A  headless  trunk,  that  even  as  the  rest 
Of  the  sad  flock  paced  onward.      By  the  hair 
It  bore  the  sever'd  member,  lantern-wise 
Pendent  in  hand,  which  look'd  at  us,  and  said, 
"Woe's  me!"     The  spirit  lighted  thus  himself; 
And  two  there  were  in  one,  and  one  in  two. 
How  that  may  be,  he  knows  who  ordereth  so. 
When  at  the  bridge's  foot  direct  he  stood, 
His  arm  aloft  he  rear'd,  thrusting  the  head 
Full  in  our  view,  that  nearer  we  might  hear 
The  words,  which  thus  it  utter'd :    "  Now  behold 
This  grievous  torment,  thou,  who  breathing  go'st 
To  spy  the  dead  :   behold,  if  any  else 
Be  terrible  as  this.      And,  that  on  earth 
Thou  mayst  bear  tidings  of  me,  know  that  I 
Am  Bertrand,^  he  of  Born,  who  gave  King  John 


"  This  murder,"  says  G.  Villani,  lib.  v.,  cap.  xxxviii.,  "was 
the  cause  and  beginning  of  the  accursed   Guelph  and 
Chibelline  parlies  in  Florence."      It  happened  in  1215. 
See  the  "  Paradise,"  canto  xvi.  139. 
'  The  boon  companion. — 

"  What  stronger  breastplate  than  a  heart  untainted?" 
Shakespeare,  2  Henry  VI.,  Act  iii.,  sc.  7. 

•  Ber/ran/i.—Bertrznd  de  Corn,  Vicomte  de  Hautefort, 
ne.ir  Perigueux  in  Guicnne,  who  incited  John  to  rebel 
ag.ainst  his  father,  Henry  II.  of  England.  Bertrand 
holds  a  distinguished  place  among  the  Provencal  poets. 
He  is  quoted  in  Dante,  "  De  Vulgar!  Eloqiientia,"  lib.  ii., 
cap.  ii.,  where  it  is  said  "that  he  treated  of  war,  which  no 
Italian  poet  had  yet  done."     "  Arma  vero  nullum  Italum 


adhuc  poetasse  invenio."  The  triple  division  of  subjects 
for  poetry,  made  in  this  chapter  of  the  "  De  Vulgari  Elo- 
quenlia,"  is  very  remarkable.  For  the  translation  of  some 
extracts  from  Bertrand  de  Bom's  poems,  see  Millot, 
"Hist.  Litteraire  des  Troubadours,"  torn,  i.,  p.  210;  but 
the  historical  parts  of  that  work  are,  1  believe,  not  to  be 
relied  on.  Bertrand  had  a  son  of  the  same  name,  who 
wrote  a  poem  against  John,  King  of  England.  It  is  that 
species  of  composition  called  "the  serventese,"  and  is  in 
the  Vatican,  a  MS.  in  Cod.  3,204.  See  Bastero,  "La 
Crusca  Proveflzale,  Roma.,"  1724,  p.  80.  For  many  par- 
ticulars respecting  both  Bertrands,  consult  Raynouard's 
"  Poesies  des  Troubadours,"  in  which  excellent  work,  and 
in  his  "  Lexique  Roman,"  Paris,  i8j8,  several  of  their 
poems,  in  the  Provencal  language,  may  be  seen. 


\ 


152 


THE   VISION. 


131—138. 


The  counsel  mischievous.      Father  and  son 
I  set  at.  mutual  war.      For  Absalom 
"And  David  more  did  not  Ahithophel, 
Spurring  them  on  maliciously  to  strife. 
For  parting  those  so  closely  knit,  my  brain 
Parted,  alas  1    I  carry  from  its  source, 
That  in  this  trunk  inhabits.    Thus  the  law 
Of  retribution  fiercely  works  in  me." 


/•  153- 


But  Virgil  roused  me :  "  What  yet  gazest  on  ? 
Wherefore  doth  fasten  yet  thy  sight  below 
Amongst  the  maim'd  and  miserable  shades?  " 

Canto  XXIX.,  lines  4-6. 


CANTO     XXIX. 


ARGUMENT. 

Dante,  at  the  desire  of  Virgil,  proceeds  onward  to  the  bridge  that  crosses  the  tenth  gulf,  from  whence  he  hears  the  cries  ol 
the  alchemists  and  forgers,  who  are  tormented  therein ;  but  not  being  able  to  discern  anything  on  account  of  the 
darkness,  they  descend  the  rock,  that  bounds  this  the  last  of  the  compartments  in  which  the  eighth  circle  is  divided, 
and  then  behold  the  spirits  who  are  afflicted  by  divers  plagues  and  diseases.  Two  of  them,  namely,  Grifolino  of  Arezzo, 
and  Capocchio  of  Sienna,  are  introduced  speaking. 

00  were  mine  eyes  inebriate  with  the  view 

Of  the  vast  multitude,  whom  various  wounds    , 
"Disfigured,  that  they  long'd  to  stay  and  weep. 

But  Virgil  roused  me :    "  What  yet  gazest  on  ?   . 
Wherefore  doth  fasten  yet  thy  sight  below 
Among  the  maim'd  and  miserable  shades  ? 
Thou  hast  not  shown  in  any  chasm  beside 
This  weakness.      Know,  if  thou  wouldst  number  them, 
That  two  and  twenty  miles  the  valley  winds 
Its  circuit,  and  already  is  the  moon 
Beneath  our  feet:   the  time  permitted  now 
Is  short ;   and  more,  not  seen,  remains  to  see." 

"  If  thou,"  I  straight  replied,  "  hadst  weigh 'd  the  cause, 
For  which  I  look'd,  thou  hadst  perchance  excused 
The  tarrying  still."      My  leader  part  pursued 
His  way,  the  while  I  follow'd,  answering  him. 
And  adding  thus :    "  Within  that  cave  I  deem, 
Whereon  so  fixedly  I  held  my  ken. 
There  is  a  spirit  dwells,  one  of  my  blood, 
Wailing  the  crime  that  costs  him  now  so  dear." 

Then  spake  my  master :  "  Let  thy  soul  no  more 
Afflict  itself  for  him.      Direct  elsewhere 
Its  thought,  and  leave  him.      At  the  bridge's  foot 

1  mark'd  how  he»did  point  with  menacing  look 

At  thee,  and  heard  him  by  the  others  named 

U 


'54 


THE    VISION. 


26— SI. 


Geri  of  Bello.''^     Thou  so  wholly  then 
Wert  busied  with  his  spirit,  who  once  ruled 
The  towers  of  Hautefort,  that  thou  lookedst  not 
That  way,  ere  he  was  gone."      "Oh,  guide  beloved! 
His  violent  death  yet  unavenged,"  said  I, 
•'  By  any,  who  are  partners  in  his  shame, 
Made  him  contemptuous ;   therefore,  as  I  think, 
He  pass'd  me  speechless  by ;   and,  doing  so, 
Hath  made  me  more  compassionate  his  fate." 

So  we  discoursed  to  where  the  rock  first  show'd 
The  other  valley,  had  more  light  been  there. 
E'en  to  the  lowest  depth.      Soon  as  we  came 
O'er  the  last  cloister  in  the  dismal  rounds 
Of  Malebolge,  and  the  brotherhood 
Were  to  our  view  exposed,  then  many  a  dart 
Of  sore  lament  assail'd  me,  headed  all 
With  points  of  thrilling  pity,  that  I  closed 
Both  ears  against  the  volley  with  mine  hands. 

As  were  the  torment,"^  if  each  lazar-house 
Of  Valdichiana,^  in  the  sultry  time 
'Twixt  July  and  September,  with  the  isle 
Sardinia  and  Maremma's  pestilent  fen,* 
Had  heap'd  their  maladies  all  in  one  fosse 
Together ;   such  was  here  the  torment :   dire 
The  stench,  as  issuing  steams  from  fester'd  limbs. 

We  on  the  utmost  shore  of  the  long  rock 


•  Geri  of  Belto. — A  kinsman  of  the  poet's,  who  was 
murdered  by  one  of  the  Sacchetti  family.  His  being 
placed  here  may  be  considered  as  a  proof  that  Dante  was 
more  impartial  in  the  allotment  of  hii  punishments  than 
has  generally  been  supposed.  He  was  the  son  of  IjcUo, 
who  was  brother  to  BcUincione,  our  poet's  grandfather. 
Felli,  "  Mem.  per  la  Vita  di  Dante,"  "  Opere  di  Dante," 
tatta  ediz.,  tom.  iv.,  part  ii.,  p.  23. 

•  As  were  the  torment.— \\.  is  very,  probable  that  these 
lines  gave  Milton  the  idea  of  his  celebrated  description: 

"  Immediately  a  place 
Before  their  eyes  appcar'd,  sad,  noisome,  dark. 
A  lazar-house  it  secm'd,  wherein  were  laid 
Numbers  of  all  diseased,  all  maladies,"  &c 

Paradise  Lost,  b.  xi.  477. 

Yet  the  enumeration  of  diseases  which  loUows  appears  to 
have  been  taken  by  Milton  from  the  "  Quadtiregio:" 


"Quivi  eran  zoppi,  monchi,  sordi,  c  orbi, 
Quivi  era  il  mal  podagrico  e  di  fianc<\ 
Quivi  la  frenesia  cogli  occhi  torbi. 
Quivi  il  dolor  gridante,  e  non  mai  stanco, 
Quivi  il  catarro  con  la  gran  cianfarda, 
L'asma,  la  polmonia  quivi  eran'  anco. 
L'idropisia  quivi  era  grave  e  tarda, 
Di  tutte  febbri  quel  piano  era  pieno, 
Quivi  quel  mal,  che  par  che  la  carne  arda." 

Lib.  ii.,  cap.  8. 
'  Of  Valdichiana. — The  valley  through  which  passes 
the  river  Chiana,  bounded  by  Arezzo,  Cortona,  Monte- 
pulciano,  and  Chiusi.  In  the  heat  of  autumn  it  was 
formerly  rendered  unwholesome  by  the  stagnation  of  the 
water,  but  has  since  been  drained  by  the  Emperor  Leo- 
pold II.  The  Chiana  is  mentioned  as  a  remarkably 
sluggish  stream,  in  the  "  Paradise,"  canto  xiii.  21. 
*  Maremina's  pestilent  fen.— S<x  note  to  canto  xxv.  18 


/•  '55. 


Then  my  sight 
Was  livelier  to  explore  the  depth,  wherein 
The  minister  of  the  most  mighty  Lord, 
All-searching  Justice,  dooms  to  punishment 
The  forgers  noted  on  her  dread  record. 

Canle  XXIX.,  Unes  %*-$(>, 


•X3 
u 

e 

nl 
U 


5>— 87.  HELL. CANTO   XXIX.  I55 

Descended  still  to  leftward.     Then  my  sight 
Was  livelier  to  explore  the  depth,  wherein 
The  minister  of  the  most  mighty  Lord, 
All-searching  Justice,  dooms  to  punishment 
The  forgers  noted  on  her  dread  record. 

More  rueful  was  it  not  methinks  to  see 
^  The  nation  in  yEgina'  droop,  what  time 
Each  living  thing,  e'en  to  the  little  worm, 
All  fell,  so  full  of  malice  was  the  air 
(And  afterward,  as  bards  of  yore  have  told, 
The  ancient  people  were  restored  anew 
From  seed  of  emmets),  than  was  here  to  see 
The  spirits,  that  languish'd  through  the  murky  vale, 
Up-piled  on  many  a  stack.      Confused  they  lay, 
One  o'er  the  belly,  o'er  the  shoulders  one 
Roll'd  of  another;   sideling  crawl'd  a  third 
•    Along  the  dismal  pathway.     Step  by  step 
We  journey 'd  on.  in  silence  looking  round, 
And  listening  those  diseased,  who  strove  in  vain 
To  lift  their  forms.      Then  two  I  mark'd,  that  sat 
Propt  'gainst  each  other,  as  two  brazen  pans 
Set  to  retain  the  heat.      From  head  to  foot, 
A  tetter  bark'd  them  round.      Nor  saw  I  e'er 
Groom  currying  so  fast,  for  whom  his  lord 
Impatient  waited,  or  himself  perchance 
Tired  with  long  watching,  as  of  these  each  one 
Plied  quickly  his  keen  nails,  through  furiousness 
Of  ne'er  abated  pruriency.      The  crust 
Came  drawn  from  underneath  in  flakes,  like  scales 
Scraped  from  the  bream,  or  fish  of  broader  mail. 

"Oh,  thou !   who  with  thy  fingers  rendest  off 
Thy  coat  of  proof,"  thus  spake  my  guide  to  one, 
"  And  sometimes  makest  tearing  pincers  of  them. 
Tell  me  if  any  born  of  Latian  land 
Be  among  these  within  ;   so  may  thy  nails 
Serve  thee  for  everlasting  to  this  toil." 

'  /»  Aigtna.—He  alludes  to  the  lable  of  the  ants  changed  into  myrmidons,  Ovid,  "  Metamorphoses,"  lib  viL 


136 


THE   VISION. 


88 — 120. 


"  Both  are  of  Latium,"  weeping  he  replied, 
"Whom  tortured  thus  thou  seest :   but  who  art  thou 
That  hast  inquired  of  us  ?"      To  whom  my  guide : 
"  One  that  descend  with  this  man,  who  yet  lives, 
From  rock  to  rock,  and  show  him  hell's  abyss." 

Then  started  they  asunder,  and  each  turn'd 
Trembling  toward  us,  with  the  rest,  whose  ear 
Those  words  redounding  struck.     To  me-  my  liege 
Address'd  him:   "Speak  to  them  whate'er  thou  list." 

And  I  therewith  began  :   "  So  may  no  time 
Filch  your  remembrance  from  the  thoughts  of  men 
In  the  upper  world,  but  after  many  suns 
Survive  it,  as  ye  tell  me,  who  ye  are. 
And  of  what  race  ye  come.      Your  punishment. 
Unseemly  and  disgustful  in  its  kind, 
Deter  you  not  from  opening  thus  much  to  me." 

"Arezzo  was  my  dwelling,"^  answer'd  one, 
"And  me  Albero  of  Sienna  brought 
To  die  by  fire :   but  that,  for  which  I  died, 
Leads  me  not  here.      True  is,  in  sport  I  told  him. 
That  I  had  learn'd  to  wing  my  flight  in  air; 
And  he,  admiring  much,  as  he  was  void 
Of  wisdom,  will'd  me  to  declare  to  him 
The  secret  of  mine  art:   and  only  hence, 
Because  I  made  him  not  a  Daedalus, 
Prevail'd  on  one  supposed  his  sire  to  burn  me. 
But  Minos  to  this  chasm,  last  of  the  ten, 
For  that  I  practised  alchemy  on  earth. 
Has  doom'd  me.      Him  no  subterfuge  eludes." 

Then  to  the  bard  I  spake:    "Was  ever  race 
Light  as  Sienna's  P     Sure  not  France  herself 
Can  show  a  tribe  so  frivolous  and  vain." 

The  other  leprous  spirit  heard  my  words, 


'  Aresxo  was  my  dwelling.— Qx\^oX\no  of  Arezzo,  who 
promised  Albero,  son  of  the  Bishop  of  Sienna,  that  he 
would  teach  him  the  art  of  flying  ;  and,  because  he  did 
noi  keep  his  promise,  Albero  prevailed  on  his  fattter  to 
have  him  burnt  for  a  necromancer. 


•  Was  ever  race 

Light  as  Sienna  st  — 

The   same    imputation   is   again   cast   on  the  Siennese 
"  Purgatory,"  canto  xiii.  I4(. 


121 — 138. 


HELL. CANTO   XXIX. 


157 


And  thus  return'd  :    "  Be  Stricca^  ffom  this  charge 
Exempted,  he  who  knew  so  temperately 
To  lay  out  fortune's  gifts  ;   and  Niccolo, 
Who  first  the  spice's  costly  luxury 
Discover'd  in  that  garden,^  where  such  seed 
Roots  deepest  in  the  soil :   and  be  that  troop 
fc    Exempted,  with  whom  Caccia  of  Asciano 

Lavish'd  his  vineyards  and  wide-spreading  woods, 
And  his  rare  wisdom  Abbagliato*  show'd 
A  spectacle  for  all.      That  thou  mayst  know 
Who  seconds  thee  against  the  Siennese 
Thus  gladly,  bend  this  way  thy  sharpen'd  sight, 
That  well  my  face  may  answer  to  thy  ken  ; 
So  shalt  thou  see  I  am  Capocchio's  ghost,* 
Who  forged  transmuted  metals  by  the  power 
Of  alchemy;   and  if  I  scan  thee  right. 
Thou  needs  must  well  remember  how  1  aped 
Creative  nature  by  my  subtle  art." 


'  Siricca. — This  is  said  ironically.  Stricca,  Niccolo 
Salimbeni,  Caccia  of  Asciano,  and  Abbagliato  or  Mco  de' 
Folcacchleri,  belonged  to  a  company  of  prodigal  and 
luxurious  young  men  in  Sienna,  called  the  "  brigata  gode- 
reccia."  Niccolo  was  the  inventor  of  a  new  manner  of 
using  cloves  in  cookery,  not  very  well  understood  by  the 
commentators,  and  which  was  termed  the  "costiiina 
ricca"  Pagliarini,  in  his  Historical  Observations  on  the 
"  Quadriregio,"  lib.  iii.,  cap.  13,  adduces  a  passage  from 
a  MS.  history  of  .Sienna,  in  whicli  it  is  told  that  these 
spendthrifts,  out  of  the  sum  raised  from  the  sale  of  their 
estates,  built  a  palace,  which  tliey  inliabitcd  in  common, 
and  made  the  receptacle  of  their  apparatus  for  lu.xurious 
enjoyment ;  and  that,  amongst  their  other  extravagances, 
they  had  their  horses  shod  with  silver,  and  forbade  their 
servants  to  pick  up  the  precious  shoes  if  they  dropped 
off.  The  end  was,  as  might  be  expected,  extreme  poverty 
and  wretchedness.  Landino  says  they  spent  200,000 
florins  in  twenty  months.  Horses  shod  with  silver  are 
mentioned  by  Fazio  degli  Uberti : 

"  Ancora  in  questo  tempo  si  lii  viato 


Quel  Roberto  Guiscardo,  che  d'argento 
I  cavagli  feno  per  far  I'acquisto." 
Dittamoudo,  1.  ii.,  c.  24,  as  corrected  by  Perticari. 
'  In  that  garden. — Sienna. 

•  Abbagliato.  —  Lombardi  understands  "Abbogliato" 
not  to  be  the  name  of  a  man,  but  to  be  the  epithet 
to  "  senno,"  and  construes  "  E  I'abbagliato  suo  senno 
proferse,"  "  and  manifested  to  the  world  the  blindness  of 
their  understanding."  So  little  doubt,  however,  is  made 
of  there  being  such  a  person,  that  AUacci  speaks  of  his 
grandfather  Folcacchicro  de'  Folcacchieri  of  Sienna  as 
one  who  may  dispute  with  the  Sicilians  the  praise  of  being 
the  first  inventor  of  Italian  poetry.  Tirabosclii,  indeed, 
observes  that  this  genealogy  is  not  authenticated  by 
Allacci;  yet  it  is  difficult  to  suppose  that  he  should  have 
mentioned  it  at  all,  if  I\Ieo  de' Folcacchieri,  or  Abbagliato, 
as  he  was  called,  had  never  existed.  Vol.  i.,  p.  95,  Mr. 
Mathias's  edit. 

*  Capocchio' s ghost. — Capocchio  of  Sienna,  who  is  said 
to  have  been  a  fellow-student  of  Dante's  in  natural 
I'hilosophy. 


CANTO    XXX. 


ARGUMENT. 

In  the  same  gulf,  other  kinds  of  impostors,  as  those  who  have  counterfeited  the  persons  of  others,  or  debased  the  current 
coin,  or  deceived  by  speech  under  false  pretences,  are  described  as  suffering  various  diseases.  Sinon  of  Troy,  and 
Adamo  of  Brescia,  mutually  reproach  each  other  with  their  several  impostures. 

'I  1 /"HAT  time  resentment  burn'd  in  Juno's  breast 

For  Semele  against  the  Theban  blood, 
As  more  than  once  in  dire  mischance  was  rued; 
Such  fatal  frenzy  seized  on  Athamas,' 
That  he  his  spouse  beholding  with  a  babe 
Laden  on  either  arm,  "  Spread  out,"  he  cried, 
"The  meshes,  that  I  take  the  lioness 
And  the  young  lions  at  the  pass:"  then  forth 
Stretch 'd  he  his  merciless  talons,  grasping  one, 
One  helpless  innocent,  Learchus  named. 
Whom  swinging  down  he  dash'd  upon  a  rock; 
And  with  her  other  burden,^  self-destroy'd, 
The  hapless  mother  plunged.      And  when  the  pride 
Of  all  presuming  Troy  fell  from  its  height. 
By  fortune  overwhelm'd,  and  the  old  king 
With  his  realm  perish'd  ;    then  did  Hecuba,' 
A  wretch  forlorn  and  captive,  when  she  saw 
Polyxena  first  slaughter'd,  and  her  son. 
Her  Polydorus,*   on  the  wild  sea-beach 
Next  met  the  mourner's  view,  then  reft  of  sense 
Did  she  run  barking  even  as  a  dog ; 
Such  mighty  power  had  grief  to  wrench  her  soul. 


'  Athamas.— Vxom  Ovid,  "Metamorphoses,"  lib.  iv.; 
"  Proiinus  bolides,"  &c. 
'  IrVilh  her  other  burden. — 

"  Seque  super  pontum  nuUo  tardata  timore 
Mittit,  onusque  suum." 

Ovid,  Metamorphoses,  lib.  iv. 


^Hecuba.  —  See  Euripides,  "Hecuba;"    and    Ovid, 
"  Metamorphoses,"  lib.  xiii. 
*  Her  Polydorus. — 

"  Aspicit  ejectum  Polidori  in  littore  corpus." 

Ovid,  Metamorphoses,  lib.  iv. 


^ 


p.  159" 


"  That  is  the  ancient  soul 
Of  wretched  Myrrha." 

Cemle  XXX.,  litut  3S,  39. 


23-56. 


HELL. — CANTO   XXX. 


159 


^ 


But  ne'er  the  Furies,  or  of  Thebes,  or  Troy, 
With  such  fell  cruelty  were  seen,  their  goads 
Infixing  in  the  limbs  of  man  or  beast. 
As  now  two  pale  and  naked  ghosts  I  saw, 
That  gnarling  wildly  scamper'd,  like  the  swine  '. 

Excluded  from  his  sty.      One  reach'd  Capocchio, 
And  in  the  neck-joint  sticking  deep  his  fangs, 
Dragg'd  him,  that,  o'er  the  solid  pavement  rubb'd 
His  belly  stretch 'd  out  prone.     The  other  shape, 
He  of  Arezzo,  there  left  trembling,  spake  : 
"That  sprite  of  air  is  Schicchi;^    in  like  mood 
Of  random  mischief  vents  he  still  his  spite." 

To  whom  I  answering :    "  Oh  !    as  thou  dost  hope 
The  other  may  not  flesh  its  jaws  on  thee. 
Be  patient  to  inform  us,  who  it  is, 
Ere  it  speed  hence."      "  That  is  the  ancient  soul 
Of  wretched  Myrrha,"^  he  replied,  "  who  burn'd 
With  most  unholy  flame  for  her  own  sire, 
And  a  false  shape  assuming,  so  perform'd 
The  deed  of  sin ;   e'en  as  the  other  there. 
That  onward  passes,  dared  to  counterfeit 
Donati's  features,  to  feign'd  testament 
The  seal  affixing,  that  himself  might  gain, 
For  his  own  share,  the  lady  of  the  herd." 

When  vanish'd  the  two  furious  shades,  on  whom 
Mine  eye  was  held,  I  turn'd  it  back  to  view 
The  other  cursed  spirits.      One  I  saw 
In  fashion  like  a  lute,  had  but  the  groin 
Been  sever'd  where  it  meets  the  forked  part. 
Swollen  dropsy,  disproportioning  the  limbs 
With  ill-converted  moisture,  that  the  paunch 
Suits  not  the  visage,  open'd  wide  his  lips, 
Gasping  as  in  the  hectic  man  for  drought, 
One  towards  the  chin,  the  other  upward  curl'd. 


'  Schicchi. — Gianni  Schicchi,  who  was  of  the  family  of 
Cavalcanti,  possessed  such  a  faculty  of  moulding  his 
feature*  to  the  resemblance  of  others,  that  he  was  cm- 
ployed  by  Simon  Donati  to  personate  Buoso  Donati,  thtn 


recently  deceased,  and  to  make  a  will,  leaving  Simon  his 
heir;  for  which  service  he  was  remunerated  with  a  mare 
of  extraordinary  value,  here  called  "the  lady  of  the  herd." 
'  Myrrha. — See  Ovid.  "Metamorphoses,"  lib.  x. 


i6o 


THE   VISION. 


57^88 


"Oh,  ye  I   who  in  this  world  of  misery, 
Wherefore  I  know  not,  are  exempt  from  pain,* 
Ihus  he  began,  "attentively  regard 
Adamo's  woe.'     When  living,  full  supply 
Ne'er  lack'd  me  of  what  most  I  coveted ; 
One  drop  of  water  now,  alas  I    I  crave. 
The  rills,  that  glitter  down  the  grassy  slopes 
Of  Casentino,*  making  fresh  and  soft 
The  banks  whereby  they  glide  to  Arno's  stream, 
Stand  ever  in  my  view ;   and  not  in  vain ; 
For  more  the  pictured  semblance  dries  me  up. 
Much  more  than  the  disease,  which  makes  the  flesh 
Desert  these  shrivell'd  cheeks.      So  from  the  place, 
Where  I  transgress'd,  stern  justice  urging  me. 
Takes  means  to  quicken  more  my  labouring  sighs. 
There  is  Romena,  where  I  falsified 
The  metal  with  the  Baptist's  form  imprest, 
For  which  on  earth  I  left  my  body  burnt. 
But  if  I  here  might  see  the  sorrowing  soul 
Of  Guido,  Alessandro,  or  their  brother, 
For  Branda's  limpid  spring^  I  would  not  change 
The  welcome  sight.     One  is  e'en  now  within. 
If  truly  the  mad  spirits  tell,  that  round 
Are  wandering.      But  wherein  besteads  me  that  ? 
My  limbs  are  fetter'd.     Were  I  but  so  light, 
That  I  each  hundred  years  might  move  one  inch, 
I  had  set  forth  already  on  this  path. 
Seeking  him  out  amidst  the  shapeless  crew, 
Although  eleven  miles  it  wind,  not  less^ 
Than  half  of  one  across.     They  brought  me  down 
Among  this  tribe  ;  induced  by  them,  I  stamp'd 
The  florens  with  three  carats  of  alloy."* 


'  Adamcfs  a'(7#.— Adamo  of  Brescia,  at  the  instigation 
of  Guido,  Alessandro,  and  their  brother  Aghinulfo,  lords 
of  Romena,  counterfeited  the  coin  of  Florence;  for  which 
crime  he  was  burnt.  Landino  says  that  in  his  time  the 
peasants  still  pointed  out  a  pile  of  stones  near  Romena 
as  the  place  of  his  execution.  See  Troya,  "Veltro  AUe- 
gorico,"  p.  25. 

•  Casentino. — Romena  is  a  part  of  Casentino. 


'  Brandds  limpid  spring. — A  fountain  in  Sienna 
'  Less.  —  Lombardi  justly  concludes  that  as  At'amo 
wishes  to  exaggerate  the  difficulty  of  finding  the  spirit 
whom  he  wished  to  see,  " men,"  and  not  "pii"  ("less," 
and  not  "more  "  than  the  half  of  a  mile),  is  probably  the 
true  reading  ;  for  there  are  authorities  for  both. 

'  The  florens  with  three  carats  of  alloy. — The  florcn 
was  a  coin  tliat  ought  to  have  had  twenty-four  carats  ol 


89— 1 '9- 


HELL. — CANTO   XXX. 


l6l 


"Who  are  that  abject  pair,"  I  next  inquired, 
"  That  closely  bounding  thee  upon  thy  right 
Lie  smoking,  like  a  hand  in  winter  steep'd 
In  the  chill  stream?"      "When  to  this  gulf  I  dropp'd," 
He  answer'd,  "  here  I  found  them  ;   since  that  hour 
They  have  not  turn'd,  nor  ever  shall,  I  ween. 
Till  Time  hath  run  his  course.      One  is  that  dame, 
The  false  accuser'  of  the  Hebrew  youth ; 
Sinon  the  other,  that  false  Greek  from  Troy. 
Sharp  fever  drains  the  reeky  moistness  out, 
In  such  a  cloud  upsteam'd."     When  that  he  heard. 
One,  gall'd  perchance  to  be  so  darkly  named, 
With  clench'd  hand  smote  him  on  the  braced  paunch, 
That  like  a  drum  resounded  :   but  forthwith 
Adamo  smote  him  on  the  face,  the  blow 
Returning  with  his  arm,  that  seem'd  as  hard. 

"  Though  my  o'erweighty  limbs  have  ta'en  from  me 
The  power  to  move,"  said  he,  "I  have  an  arm 
At  liberty  for  such  employ."      To  whom 
Was  answer'd :    "  When  thou  wentest  to  the  fire, 
Thou  hadst  it  not  so  ready  at  command. 
Then  readier  when  it  coin'd  the  impostor  gold." 

And  thus  the  dropsied :    "  Ay,  now  speak'st  thou  true : 
But  there  thou  gavest  not  such  true  testimony, 
When  thou  wast  question'd  of  the  truth,  at  Troy." 

"  If  I  spake  false,  thou  falsely  stamp'dst  the  coin," 
Said  Sinon  ;    "  I  am  here  for  but  one  fault. 
And  thou  for  more  than  any  imp  beside." 

"  Remember,"  he  replied,  "  oh,  perjured  one  I 
The  horse  remember,  that  did  teem  with  death ; 
And  all  the  world  be  witness  to  thy  guilt." 


pure  gold.  Villani  relates  that  it  was  first  used  at  Florence 
in  1252,  an  era  of  great  prosperity  in  the  annals  of  the 
republic :  before  which  time  their  most  valuable  coinage 
was  of  silver — "Hist,"  lib.  vi.,  c.  liv.  Fazio  degli  Uberti 
uses  the  word  to  denote  the  purest  gold. 

"  Pura  era  come  I'oro  del  fiorino." 

Dittavtondo,  1.  ii.,  cap.  xiv. 

"Among  ihe  ruins  of  Chaucer's  house  at  Woodstock  they 


found  an  ancient  coin  of  Florence ;   I  think,  a  florcin, 
anciently  common  in  England." — Chaucer,  Pardon.  Tale, 

v..  22QO. 

"For  that  the  Floraines  been  so  fair  and  bright." 
"Edward  III.,  in  1344,  altered  it  from  a  lower  value  to 
6s.  8d.     The  particular  piece  I  have  mentioned  seems 
about  that  value."— f^rt/'/tf/J,  History  of  English  Poetry, 
v.  ii.,  §  ii.,  p.  44. 

'  The  false  accuser. — Potiphar's  wife. 


1 62  THE  VISION.  120-145. 

"To  thine,"  returned  the  Greek,  "witness  the  thirst 
Whence  thy  tongue  cracks,  witness  the  fluid  mound 
Rear'd  by  thy  belly  up  before  thine  eyes, 
A  mass  corrupt."     To  whom  the  coiner  thus: 
"  Thy  mouth  gapes  wide  as  ever  to  let  pass 
Its  evil  saying.      Me  if  thirst  assails. 
Yet  I  am  stuft  with  moisture.     Thou  art  parch'd  : 
Pains  rack  thy  head :   no  urging  wouldst  thou  need 
To  make  thee  lap  Narcissus'  mirror  up." 

I  was  all  fix'd  to  listen,  when  my  guide 
Admonish 'd  :    "  Now  beware.     A  little  more, 
And  I  do  quarrel  with  thee."      I  perceived 
How  angrily  he  spake,  and  towards  him  turn'd 
With  shame  so  poignant,  as  remember'd  yet 
Confounds  me.      As  a  man  that  dreams  of  harm 
Befallen  him,  dreaming  wishes  it  a  dream. 
And  that  which  is,  desires  as  if  it  were  not ; 
Such  then  was  I,  who,  wanting  power  to  speak, 
Wish'd  to  excuse  myself,  and  all  the  while 
Excused  me,  though  unweeting  that  I  did. 

"  More  grievous  fault  than  thine  has  been,  less  shame," 
My  m.aster  cried,  "  might  expiate.      Therefore  cast 
All  sorrow  from  thy  soul ;   and  if  again 
Chance  bring  thee  where  like  conference  is  held. 
Think  I  am  ever  at  thy  side.      To  hear 
Such  wrangling  is  a  joy  for  vulgar  minds." 


CANTO     XXXI. 


ARGUMENT.    • 

The  poets,  foflowing  the  sound  of  a  loud  horn,  are  led  by  it  to  the  ninth  circle,  in  which  there  are  four  rounds  one 
enclosed  within  the  other,  and  containing  as  many  sorts  of  traitors  j  but  the  present  canto  shows  only  that  the  circle 
is  encompassed  with  giants,  one  of  whom,  Antseus,  takes  them  both  in  his  arms  and  places  them  at  the  bottom  of 
the  circle. 

'  I  "HE  very  tongue,'  whose  keen  reproof  before 

Had  wounded  me,  that  either  cheek  was  stain'd. 
Now  minister'd  my  cure.      So  have  I  heard, 
Achilles'  and  his  father's  javelin  caused 
Pain  first,  and  then  the  boon  of  health  restored. 

Turning  our  back  upon  the  vale  of  woe, 
We  cross'd  the  encircled  mound  in  silence.      There 
Was  less  than  day  and  less  than  night,  that  far 
Mine  eye  advanced  not :   but  I  heard  a  horn 
Sounded  so  loud,  the  peal  it  rang  had  made 
The  thunder  feeble.      Following  its  course 
The  adverse  way,  my  strained  eyes  were  bent 
On  that  one  spot.      So  terrible  a  blast 
Orlando*  blew  not,  when  that  dismal  rout 
O'erthrew  the  host  of  Charlemain,  and  quench'd 
His  saintly  warfare.      Thitherward  not  long 


'  Tilt  very  tongue. — 

"  Vulnus  in  Herculeo  quae  quondam  fecerat  hoste 
Vulneris  auxilium  Pelias  hasta  fuit." 

Ovid,  Reined io  A  maris,  47. 

The  same  allusion  Tvas made  by  Bernard  de  Ventadour,  a 
Proveni^al  poet  in  the  middle  of  ilic  twelfth  century;  and 
Millot  observes  that  "it  was  a  singular  instance  of  erudi- 
tion in  a  Troubadour."  But  it  is  not  impossiJjle,  as 
Warton  remarks  ("  Hist  of  English  Poetr)-,"  vol.  ii.,  §  x., 
p.  215)  but  that  he  migKt  have  been  indebted  for  it  to 
some  of  the  early  romances.  In  Chaucer's  "  Squier"s 
Tale,"  a  sword  of  similar  quality  is  introduced : 

"And  other  folk  have  wondred  on  the  sweard, 
That  could  so  piercen  through  everything; 
And  fell  in  spech  of  Telephus  the  king, 


And  of  Achilles  for  his  qiieint  spere, 
For  he  couth  with  it  both  heale  and  dere." 
So  Shakespeare,  "2  Henry  VI.,"  Act  v.,  sc.  I : 

"  Whose  smile  and  frown  like  to  Achilles'  spear 
Is  able  with  the  change  to  kill  and  cure." 

•  Orlando. — 

"  When  Charlemain  with  all  his  peerage  fell 
At  For.tarabia." 

Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  b. 

Sec  Warton's  "  History  of  English  Poetry,"  vol.  i.,  ' 
p.  132:  "This  is  the  horn  which  Orlando  won  from  the 
giant  Jatmund,  and  which,  as  Turpin  and  the  Islandic 
bards  report,  was  endued  with  magical  power,  and  might 
be  heard  at  the  distance  of  twenty  miles."  Charlemain 
and  Orlando  are  introduced  in  the  "Paradise,"  canto 
xviiL 


586. 
iii., 


164  THE   VISION,  17—51. 

My  head  was  raised,  when  many  a  lofty  tower 

Methought  I  spied.      "Master,"  said  I,  "what  land 

Is  this?"      He  answer'd  straight:    "Too  long  a  space 

Of  intervening  darkness  has  thine  eye 

To  traverse:   thou  hast  therefore  widely  err'd 

In  thy  imagining.     Thither  arrived 

Thou  well  shalt  see  how  distance  can  delude 

The  sense.     A  little  therefore  urge  thee  on." 

Then  tenderly  he  caught  me  by  the  hand ; 
"  Yet  know,"  said  he,  "  ere  further  we  advance, 
That  it  less  strange  may  seem,  these  are  not  towers, 
But  giants.      In  the  pit  they  stand  immersed. 
Each  from  his  navel  downward,  round  the  bank." 

As  when  a  fog  disperseth  gradually, 
Our  vision  traces  what  the  mist  involves 
Condensed  in  air ;   so  piercing  through  the  gross 
And  gloomy  atmosphere,  as  more  and  more 
We  near'd  toward  the  brink,  mine  error  fled 
And  fear  came  o'er  me.      As  with  circling  round 
Of  turrets,  Montereggion^  crowns  his  walls, 
E'en  thus  the  shore,  encompassing  the  abyss, 
Was  turreted  with  giants,''  half  their  length 
Uprearing,  horrible,  whom  Jove  from  heaven 
Yet  threatens,  when  his  muttering  thunder  rolls. 

Of  one  already  I  descried  the  face, 
Shoulders,  and  breast,  and  of  the  belly  huge 
Great  part,  and  both  arms  down  along  his  ribs. 

All-teeming  Nature,  when  her  plastic  hand 
Left  framing  of  these  monsters,  did  display 
Past  doubt  her  wisdom,  taking  from  mad  War 
Such  slaves  to  do  his  bidding;   and  if  she 
Repent  her  not  of  the  elephant  and  whale, 
Who  ponders  well  confesses  her  therein 
Wiser  and  more  discreet  ;   for  when  brute  force 
And  evil  will  are  back'd  with  subtlety, 


I 


•  J^o«f,r,^/o„.-A  casile  near  Sienna.  ,      Warton,  are  in  the  Arabian  vein  of  fabling.    See  DHer 

CM«/f.-The  gianu  round  tlie  pit,  it  is  remarked  by      |      belot,  «  Bibliothfeque  Orientale."  V  Rocail..  d.  717.  A. 


belot,  "  Bibliothfeque  Orientale,"  V.  Rocail.,  p.  717,  a. 


h 


A  «6S. 


"Oh  senseless  spirit  !  let  thy  horn  for  thee 
Interpret :  therewith  vent  thy  rage,  if  rage 
Or  other  passion  wring  thee." 

Otntff  XXXI.,  lints  64-66. 


c 
o 


52-  83- 


HELL. — CANTO   XXXI. 


165 


Resistance  none  avails.      His  visage  seem'd 

In  length  and  bulk  as  doth  the  pine^  that  tops 

Saint  Peter's  Roman  fane ;   and  the  other  bones 

Of  like  proportion,  so  that  from  above 

The  bank,  which  girdled  him  below,  such  height 

Arose  his  stature,  that  three  Friezelanders 

Had  striven  in  vain  to  reach  but  to  his  hair. 

Full  thirty  ample  palms  was  he  exposed 

Downward  from  whence  a  man  his  garment  loops. 

"  RapheP  bai  ameth,  sabi  almi:" 

So  shouted  his  fierce  lips,  which  sweeter  hymns 

Became  not ;   and  my  guide  address'd  him  thus : 

"  Oh,  senseless  spirit  1    let  thy  horn  for  thee 

Interpret  :   therewith  vent  thy  rage,  if  rage 

Or  other  passion  wring  thee.      Search  thy  neck, 

There  shalt  thou  find  the  belt  that  binds  it  on. 

Spirit  confused  1^   lo,  on  thy  mighty  breast 

Where  hangs  the  baldrick  ! "      Then  to  me  he  spake : 

*'  He  doth  accuse  himself.      Nimrod  is  this, 

Through  whose  ill  counsel  in  the  world  no  more 

One  tongue  prevails.      But  pass  we  on,  nor  waste 

Our  words  ;    for  so  each  language  is  to  him, 

As  his  to  others,  understood  by  none." 

Then  to  the  leftward  turning,  sped  we  forth, 
And  at  a  sling's  throw  found  another  shade 
Far  fiercer  and  more  huge.      I  cannot  say 
What  master  hand  had  girt  him ;   but  he  held 
Behind  the  right  arm  fetter'd,  and  before. 
The  other,  with  a  chain,  that  fasten 'd  him 
From  the  neck  down ;   and  five  times  round  his  form 
Apparent  met  the  wreathed  links.      "This  proud  one 
Would  of  his  strength  against  almighty  Jove 


'  The  pine. — "  The  large  pine  of  bronze,  which  once 
ornamented  the  top  of  the  mole  of  Adrian,  was  afterwards 
employed  to  decorate  the  top  of  the  belfry  of  St.  Peter; 
and  having  (according  to  Buti)  been  thrown  down  by 
lightning,  it  was,  after  lying  some  time  on  the  steps  of 
this  palace,  transferred  to  the  place  where  it  now  is,  in 
the  Pope's  garden,  by  the  side  of  the  great  corridor  of 
BHvedere." — Lombardi. 


'  Raphel,  &•€. — These  unmeaning  sounds,  it  is  sup- 
posed, are  meant  to  express  the  confusion  of  languages  at 
the  building  of  the  tower  of  Babel. 

»  Spirit  confused!— \  had  before  translated  "Wild 
spirit!"  and  have  altered  it  at  the  suggestion  of  Mr. 
Darley,  who  well  observes  that  "anima  confusa"  is  pecu- 
liarly appropriate  to  Nimrod,  the  author  of  the  confusion 
at  Babel. 


l66  THE   VISION.  84-1 1& 

Make  trial,"  said  my  guide:    "whence  he  is  thus 

Requited  :    Ephialtes  him  they  call. 

Great  was  his  prowess,  when  the  giants  brought 

Fear  on  the  gods:   those  arms,  which  then  he  plied, 

Now  moves  he  never."     Forthwith  I  return'd : 

•'Fain  would  I,  if  'twere  possible,  mine  eyes, 

Of  Briareus  immeasurable,  gain'd 

Experience  next."      He  answer'd  :   "  Thou  shalt  see 

Not  far  from  hence  Antaeus,  who  both  speaks 

And  is  unfetter'd,  who  shall  place  us  there 

Where  guilt  is  'at  its  depth.      Far  onward  stands 

Whom  thou  wouldst  fain  behold,  in  chains,  and  made 

Like  to  this  spirit,  save  that  in  his  looks 

More  fell  he  seems."      By  violent  earthquake  rock'd 

Ne'er  shook  a  tower,  so  reeling  to  its  base, 

As  Ephialtes.      More  than  ever  then 

I  dreaded  death  ;    nor  than  the  terror  more 

Mad  needed,  if  I  had  not  seen  the  cords 

That  held  him  fast.      We,  straightway  journeying  on, 

Came  to  Antaeus,  who,  five  ells  complete 

Without  the  head,  forth  issued  from  the  cave. 

"Oh,  thou,  who  in  the  fortunate  vale,'  that  made 
Great  Scipio  heir  of  glory,  when  his  sword 
Drove  back  the  troop  of  Hannibal  in  flight, 
Who  thence  of  old  didst  carry  for  thy  spoil 
An  hundred  lions  ;   and  if  thou  hadst  fought 
In  the  high  conflict  on  thy  brethren's  side, 
Seems  as  men  yet  believed,  that  through  thine  arnr 
The  sons  of  earth  had  conquer'd  ;   now  vouchsafe 
To  place  us  down  beneath,  where  numbing  cold 
Locks  up  Cocytus.      Force  not  that  we  crave 
Or  Tityus'  help  or  Typhon's,      Here  is  one 
Can  give  what  in  this  realm  ye  covet.      Stoop 
Therefore,  nor  scornfully  distort  thy  lip. 
He  in  the  upper  world  can  yet  bestow 


'  Thi  fortunate  vale. — The  country   near  Carthage.      I      590,  &c.     Dante  has  kept  the  latter  of  these  writers  in  his 
See  Livy,  "  Histi"  I.  xxx.,  and  Lucan,  "  Pharsalia,"  L  iv.      I      eye  throughout  all  this  passage. 


k 


/  167- 


Yet  in  the  abyss, 
That  Lucifer  with  Judas  low  ingulfs, 
Lightly  he  placed  us. 


Canto  XXXI.,  lines  133-135. 


i 


119—136- 


HELL. — CANTO   XXXI. 


167 


k 


h 


Renown  on  thee ;    for  he  doth  live,  and  looks 
For  life  yet  longer,  if  before  the  time 
Grace  call  him  not  unto  herself."      Thus  spake 
The  teacher.      He  in  haste  forth  stretch 'd  his  hands 
And  caught  my  guide.      Alcides^  whilom  felt 
That  grapple,  straiten'd  sore.      Soon  as  my  guide 
Had  felt  it,  he  bespake  me  thus  :    "  This  way. 
That  I  may  clasp  thee;"   then  so  caught  me  up, 
That  we  were  both  one  burden.      As  appears 
The  tower  of  Carisenda,*  from  beneath 
Where  it  doth  lean,  if  chance  a  passing  cloud 
So  sail  across,  that  opposite  it  hangs  ; 
Such  then  Antasus  seem'd,  as  at  mine  ease 
I  mark'd  him  stooping.     I  were  fain  at  times 
To  have  past  another  way.      Yet  in  the  abyss, 
That  Lucifer  with  Judas  low  ingulfs. 
Lightly  he  placed  us ;   nor,  there  leaning,  stay'd ; 
But  rose,  as  in  a  barque  the  stately  mast. 


'  Alcides. — The  combat  between  Hercules  and  Antaus 
is  adduced  by  the  poet  in  his  treatise  "  De  Monarchii," 
lib.  ii.,  as  a  proof  of  the  judgment  of  God  displayed  in 
the  duel,  according  to  the  singular  superstition  of  those 
times.  "  Certamine  vero  dupliciter  Dei  judicium  aperitur 
vel  ex  collisione  virium,  sicut  lit  per  duellum  pugilum, 
qui  dueliiones  etiam  vocantur;  vel  ex  contentione  plurium 


ad  aliquod  signum  praevalere  conantium,  sicut  fit  per 
pugnam  athletarum  currentium  ad  bravium.  Primus 
istorum  modorum  apud  gentiles  figuratus  fuit  in  illo 
duello  Herculis  et  Antasi,'  cujus  Lucanus  meminit  in 
quarto  Pharsaliae,  et  Ovidius  in  nono  de  rerum  transmu- 
tatione." 
*  Tower  of  Carisenda, — The  leaning  tower  at  Bologna 


CANTO     XXXII. 


ARGUMENT. 

TTii«  canto  treats  of  the  first,  and,  in  part,  of  the  second  of  those  rounds,  into  which  the  ninth  and  last,  or  frozen  circle,  is 
divided.  In  the  former,  called  Caina,  Dante  finds  Camiccione  de'  Pazzi,  who  gives  him  an  account  of  other  sinners 
who  are  there  punished ;  and  in  the  next,  named  Antenora,  he  hears  in  like  manner  from  Bocca  degli  Abbati  who  his 
feUow-sufferers  are. 

/'"^OULD  I  command  rough  rhymes  and  hoarse,  to  suit 

^~^     That  hole  of  sorrow  o'er  which  every  rock 

His  firm  abutment  rears,  then  might  the  vein 

Of  fancy  rise  full  springing ;    but  not  mine 

Such  measures,  and  with  faltering  awe  I  touch 

The  mighty  theme ;    for  to  describe  the  depth 

Of  all  the  universe,  is  no  emprise 

To  jest  with,  and  demands  a  tongue  not  used 

To  infant  babbling.^      But  let  them  assist 

My  song,  the  tuneful  maidens,  by  whose  aid 

Amphion  wall'd  in  Thebes  ;   so  with  the  truth 

My  speech  shall  best  accord.      Oh,  ill-starr'd  folk. 

Beyond  all  others  wretched  I   who  abide 

In  such  a  mansion,  as  scarce  thought  finds  words 

To  speak  of,  better  had  ye  here  on  earth 

Been  flocks,  or  mountain  goats.      As  down  we  stood 

In  the  dark  pit  beneath  the  giants'  feet, 

But  lower  far  than  they,  and  I  did  gaze 

Still  on  the  lofty  battlement,  a  voice 

Bespake  me  thus  :   "  Look  how  thou  walkest.     Take 

Good  heed,  thy  soles  do  tread  not  on  the  heads 

Of  thy  poor  brethren."     Thereupon  I  turn'd, 

And  saw  before  and  underneath  my  feet 


*  A  tongue  not  used  to  infant  babbling.— 

"  N6  da  lingua,  che  chiami  mamma,  o  babbo." 
Dante,  in  hii  treatise  "  Ue  Vulgari  Eloquentia,"  speaking 


of  words  not  admissible  in  the  loftier,  or,  as  he  calls  it, 
tragic  style  of  poetry,  says  :  "  In  quorum  numcro  nee 
puerilia  propter  suam  simplicitatem  ut  mamma  et  babbo,'' 
lib.  ii.,  c.  vii. 


» 


J 


24— 52- 


HELL. 


:anto  xxxil 


169 


A  lake,'  whose  frozen  surface  liker  seem'd 

To  glass  than  water.      Not  so  thick  a  veil 

In  winter  e'er  hath  Austrian  Danube  spread 

O'er  his  still  course,  nor  Tanais  far  remote 

Under  the  chilling  sky.      RoH'd  o'er  that  mas.s 

Had  Tabernich  or  Pietrapana^  fallen. 

Not  e'en  its  rim  had  creak'd.      As  peeps  the  frog 

Croaking  above  the  wave,  what  time  in  dreams 

The  village  gleaner  oft  pursues  her  toil. 

So,  to  where  modest  shame  appears,^  thus  low 

Blue  pinch'd  and  shrined  in  ice  the  spirits  stood, 

Moving  their  teeth  in  shrill  note  like  the  stork.* 

His  face  each  downward  held;    their  mouth  the  cold, 

Their  eyes  express'd  the  dolour  of  their  heart. 

A  space  I  look'd  around,  then  at  my  feet 
Saw  two  so  strictly  join'd,  that  of  their  head 
The  very  hairs  were  mingled.      "  Tell  me  ye, 
Whose  bosoms  thus  together  press,"  said  I, 
"Who  are  ye?"     At  that  sound  their  necks  they  bent; 
And  when  their  looks  were  lifted  up  to  me, 
Straightway  their  eyes,  before  all  moist  within, 
Distill'd  upon  their  lips,  and  the  frost  bound 
The  tears  betwixt  those  orbs,  and  held  them  there. 
Plank  unto  plank  hath  never  cramp  closed  up 
So  stoutly.      Whence,  like  two  enraged  goats, 
They  clash'd  together:   them  such  fury  seized. 

And  one,  from  whom  the  cold  both  ears  had  reft, 
Exclaim'd,  still  looking  downward  :    "  Why  on  us 
Dost  speculate  so  long?      If  thou  wouldst  know 


'  A  late. — The  same  torment  is  introduced  into  the 
"Edda,"  compiled  in  the  eleventh  and  twelfth  centuries. 
See  the  "Song  of  the  Sun,"  translated  by  the  Rev.  James 
Beresford,  London,  1805;  and  compare  Warton's  "History 
of  English  Poetry,"  v.  i.,  dissert,  i.,  r.nd  Gray's  Pos- 
thumous Works,  edited  by  Mr.  Malhias,  v.  ii.,  p.  106. 
Indeed,  as  an  escape  from  "  the  penalty  of  Adam,  the 
season's  difference,'  forms  one  of  the  most  natural  topics 
of  consolation  for  the  loss  of  life,  so  does  a  renewal  of 
that  suffering  in  its  fiercest  extremes  of  heat  and  cold 
bring  before  the  imagination  of  men  in  general  (except, 
indeed,  the  terrors  of  a  self-accusing  conscience)  the 


liveliest  idea  of  future  punishment.  Refer  to  Shakeispeare 
and  Milton  in  the  Notes  to  canto  iii.  82;  and  see  Douce's 
"  Illustrations  of  Shakespeare,"  8vo,  1807,  v.  i.,  p.  182. 

'  Tabernich  or  Pictrnpana. — The  one  a  mountain  in 
Sclavonia,  the  other  in  that  tract  of  country  called  the 
Garfngnana,  not  far  from  Lucca. 

'  To  where  modest  shame  appears. — "  As  high  as  to  the 
face." 

*  Moving  their  teeth  in  shrill  note  like  the  stork. — 
"Mettendo  i  uenti  in  nota  di  cicogna." 
So  Boccaccio,  Giorn.  viii.,  Nov.  7:   "  Lo  scolar  cattivello 
quasi  cicogna  divenuto  si  forte  batteva  i  denti." 

w 


lyo 


THE   VISION. 


53-79- 


Who  are  these  two,'  the  valley,  whence  his  wave 

Bisenzio  slopes,  did  for  its  master  own 

Their  sire  Alberto,  and  next  him  themselves. 

They  from  one  body  issued  :   and  throughout 

Caina  thou  mayst  search,  nor  find  a  shade 

More  worthy  in  congealment  to  be  fix'd ; 

Not  him,^  whose  breast  and  shadow  Arthur's  hand 

At  that  one  blow  dissever'd  ;   not  Focaccia ;' 

No,  not  this  spirit,  whose  o'erjutting  head 

Obstructs  my  onward  view :   he  bore  the  name 

Of  Mascheroni:*  Tuscan  if  thou  be. 

Well  knowest  who  he  was.     And  to  cut  short 

All  further  question,  in  my  form  behold 

What  once  was  Camiccione.*      I  await 

Carlino*  here  my  kinsman,  whose  deep  guilt 

Shall  wash  out  mine."      A  thousand  visages 

Then  mark'd  I,  which  the  keen  and  eager  cold 

Had  shaped  into  a  doggish  grin  ;   whence  creeps 

A  shivering  horror  o'er  me,  at  the  thought 

Of  those  frore  shallows.      While  we  journcy'd  on 

Toward  the  middle,  at  whose  point  unites 

All  heavy  substance,  and  I  trembling  went 

Through  that  eternal  chillness,  I  know  not 

If  wilF  it  were,  or  destiny,  or  chance, 

But,  passing  'midst  the  heads,  my  foot  did  strike 

With  violent  blow  against  the  face  of  one. 

"  Wherefore  dost  bruise  me  ?"  weeping  he  exclaim'd. 


'  IVho  are  these  two.  — Alessandro  and  Napoleone, 
sons  of  Alberto  Albert!,  who  murdered  each  other.  They 
were  proprietors  of  the  valley  of  Falterona,  where  the 
Bisenzio  has  its  source,  a  river  that  falls  into  the  Arno, 
about  six  miles  from  Florence. 

'  Not  A///I.— Mordrec,  son  of  King  Arthur.  In  the 
romance  of  "  Lancelot  of  the  Lake,"  Arthur,  having  dis- 
covered the  traitorous  intentions  of  his  son,  pierces  him 
through  with  the  stroke  of  his  lance,  so  that  the  sunbeam 
passes  through  the  body  of  Mordrec  ;  and  this  disruption 
of  the  shadow  is  no  doubt  what  our  poet  alludes  to  in  the 
.  text. 

•  Focaccia. — Focaccia  of  Cancellieri  (the  Pistoian  fa- 
mily), whose  atrocious  act  of  revenge  against  his  uncle 
is  said  to  have  given  rise  to  the  parties  of  the  Bianchi 
and  Neri,  in  the  year  130a  See  G.  Villani,  "  Hist.,"  lib. 
viiL,  c.  xxxvii.,  and  Macchiavelli,  "  Hist.,"  lib.  iL    The 


account  of  the  latter  writer  differs  much  from  that  given 
by  Landino  in  his  "  Commentary." 

*  Mascheroni.— Sa.%so\  Mascheroni,  a  Florentine,  who 
also  murdered  his  uncle. 

»  Cam!ccione.  —  Ca.m\cc\ont  de'  Pazzi  of  Valdarno, 
by  whom  his  kinsman  Ubertino  was  treacherously  put  to 
death. 

'  Car/ino.— One  of  the  same  family.  He  betrayed  the 
Castel  di  Piano  Travigne,in  Valdarno,  to  the  Florentines, 
after  the  refugees  of  the  Bianca  and  Ghibelline  party  had 
defended  it  against  a  siege  for  twenty-nine  days,  in  the 
summer  of  1302.  See  G.  Villani,  lib.  viii.,  c.  lii.,  and  Dino 
Conipagni,  lib.  ii. 

'  //  will.— 

"  Whether  upheld  by  strength,  or  chance,  or  fate  ' 

Milton,  Paradise  Lost,h.  i.  133. 


.* 


So— 112. 


HELL. — CANTO   XXXII. 


171 


^ 


"  Unless  thy  errand  be  some  fresh  revenge 
For  Montaperto/  wherefore  troublest  me?" 

I  thus :    "  Instructor,  now  await  me  here, 
That  I  through  him  may  rid  me  of  my  doubt : 
Thenceforth  what  haste  thou  wilt."     The  teacher  paused; 
And  to  that  shade  I  spake,  who  bitterly 
Still  cursed  me  in  his  wrath.      "What  art  thou?  speak, 
That  railest  thus  on  others?"      He  replied: 
"  Now  who  art  thou,  that  smiting  others'  cheeks, 
Through  Antenora'^  roamest,  with  such  force 
As  were  past  sufferance,  wert  thou  living  still?" 

"  And  I  am  living,  to  thy  joy  perchance," 
Was  my  reply,  "  if  fame  be  dear  to  thee. 
That  with  the  rest  I  may  thy  name  enrol." 

"  The  contrary  of  what  I  covet  most," 
Said  he,  "  thou  tender'st :    hence  I    nor  vex  me  more. 
Ill  knowest  thou  to  flatter  in  this  vale." 

Then  seizing  on  his  hinder  scalp  I  cried : 
"Name  thee,  or  not  a  hair  shall  tarry  here." 

"  Rend  all  away,"  he  answer'd,  "yet  for  that 
I  will  not  tell,  nor  show  thee,  who  I  am. 
Though  at  my  head  thou  pluck  a  thousand  times/* 

Now  I  had  grasp'd  his  tresses,  and  stript  off 
More  than  one  tuft,  he  barking,  with  his  eyes 
Drawn  in  and  downward,  when  another  cried, 
"What  ails  thee,  Bocca?      Sound  not  loud  enough 
Thy  chattering  teeth,  but  thou  must  bark  outright? 
What  devil  wrings  thee  ?"     "  Now,"  said  I,  "  be  dumb, 
'Accursed  traitor!     To  thy  shame,  of  thee 
True  tidings  will  I  bear."      "Offl"   he  replied; 
"Tell  what  thou  list:   but,  as  thou  'scape  from  hence, 
To  speak  of  him  whose  tongue  hath  been  so  glib, 
Forget  not :   here  he  wails  the  Frenchman's  gold. 


•  Montaficrto. — The  defeat  of  the  Guelfi  at  Montaperto, 
occasioned  by  the  treachery  of  Bocca  degli  Abbati,  who, 
during  the  engagement,  cut  off  the  hand  of  Giacopo  del 
Vacca  de'  Pazzi,  bearer  of  the  Florentine  standard.  G. 
Villani,  lib.  vi.,  c.  Ixxx.,  and  Notes  to  canto  x.  This  event 
happened  in  12C0. 


»  Antenora.—"  So  called  from  Antenor,  who,  accord- 
ing to  Dictys  Cretensis  ("  De  BcUo  Troj.,"  lib.  v.)  and 
Dares  Phrygius  ("De  Excidio  Troj  as  ")  betrayed  Troy 
his  country."  —  Lombardi.  Antenor  acts  this  part  in 
Boccaccio's  "  Filostrato,"  and  in  Chaucer's  "Troilus 
anu  Creseide." 


172 


THE    VISION. 


113—136. 


'  Him  of  Duera,'*  thou  canst  say,  '  I  mark'd, 
Where  the  starved  sinners  pine.'      If  thou  be  ask'd 
What  other  shade  was  with  them,  at  thy  side 
Is  Beccaria,'  whose  red  gorge  distain'd 
The  biting  axe  of  Florence.      Further  on, 
If  I  misdeem  not,  Soldanieri'  bides. 
With  Ganeilon,*  and  Tribaldello,*  him 
Who  ope'd  Faenza  when  the  people  slept." 

We  now  had  left  him,  passing  on  our  way 
When  I  beheld  two  spirits  by  the  ice 
Pent  in  one  hollow,  that  the  head  of  one 
Was  cowl  unto  the  other;   and  as  bread 
Is  raven'd  up  through  hunger,  the  uppermost 
Did  so  apply  his  fangs  to  the  other's  brain. 
Where  the  spine  joins  it.      Not  more  furiously 
On  Menalippus'  temples  Tydeus"  gnawed, 
Than  on  that  skull  and  on  its  garbage  he. 

"  Oh,  thou  !   who  show'st  so  beastly  sign  of  hate 
'Gainst  him  thou  prey'st  on,  let  me  hear,"  said  1, 
"  The  cause,  on  such  condition,  that  if  right 
Warrant  thy  grievance,  knowing  who  ye  are, 
And  what  the  colour  of  his  sinning  was, 
I  may  repay  thee  in  the  world  above, 
If  that,  wherewith  I   speak,  be  moist  so  long." 


'  Him  of  Duera. — Buoso  of  Cremona,  of  the  family  of 
Uueia,  who  was  bribed  by  Guy  de  Montfort  to  leave  a 
pass  between  Piedmont  and  Parma,  with  the  defence  of 
which  he  had  been  entrusted  by  the  Ghibellincs.  open  to 
the  army  of  Charles  of  Anjou,  a.D.  1265.  at  which  the 
people  of  Cremona  were  so  enraged,  tliat  they  extirpated 
the  whole  family.     G.  Villani,  lib.  vii.,  c  iv. 

'  Beccaria. — Abbot  of  Vallombrosa,  who  was  the  Pope's 
lejjate  at  Florence,  where  his  intrigues  in  favour  of  the 
Ghibcllines  being  discovered,  he  was  beheaded.  I  do 
not  find  the  occurrence  in  Villani,  nor  do  the  com- 
mentators say  to  what  Pope  lie  was,  legate.  By  Landino 
he  is  reported  to  have  been  from  Parma  ;  by  Veilutello, 
from  Pavia. 

*  .SV/rf:i///>r/. —  "  Gianni  Soldanieri,"  says  Villani 
("Hist.,"  lib.  vii.,  c.  xiv.),  "put  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
people,  in  the  hopes  of  rising  into  power,  not  aware  that 
the  result  would  be  mischief  to  the  Ghibelline  party,  and 


his  own  ruin  ;  an  event  which  seems  ever  to  have  befallen 
him  who  has  headed  the  populace  in  Florence.'' — A.D 
1266. 

*  Ganellon.—T\it  betrayer  of  Charlemain,  mentioned 
by  Avchbisliop  Turpin.  He  is  a  common  instance  of 
treachery  with  the  poets  of  the  middle  ages. 

"  Trop  son  fol  e  mal  pensant. 
Pis  Valent  que  Guenelon." 

Thibaut,  Rot  de  Navarre. 

"Oh,  new  Scariot  and  new  Ganilion, 
Oh,  false  dissembler,"  &c. 

Chaucer,  Nonne's  Priests s  Tale. 

And  in  the  "Monke's  Tale,  Peter  of  Spaine." 

»  Tribaldello.  —  Tribaldello  de'  Manfredi,  who  was 
bribed  to  betray  the  city  of  Faenza,  A.D.  1282.  G. 
Villani,  lib.  vii.,  c.  Ixxx. 

•  Tydeus.—S&c  Statius,  "Thebais,"  lib.  viii.  ad  finem. 


T3 

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O 


CANTO     XXXIII. 


^ 


ARGUMENT. 


The  poet  is  told  by  Count  Ugolino  de'  Gherardeschi  of  the  cruel  manner  in  which  he  and  his  children  were  famished  in 
the  tower  at  Pisa,  by  command  of  the  Archbishop  Ruggieri.  He  next  discourses  of  the  third  round,  called  Ptolomea, 
wherein  those  are  punished  who  have  betrayed  others  under  the  semblance  of  kindness  ;  and  among  these  he  finds 
the  Friar  Alberigo  de'  Manfredi,  who  tells  him  of  one  whose  soul  was  already  tormented  in  that  place,  though  his 
body  appeared  still  to  be  alive  upon  the  earth,  being  yielded  up  to  the  governance  of  a  fiend. 

T  T  IS  jaws  uplifting  from  their  fell  repast, 

That  sinner  wiped  them  on  the  hairs  o'  the  head. 
Which  he  behind  had  mangled,  then  began : 
"Thy  will  obeying,  I  call  up  afresh 
Sorrow  past  cure ;   which,  but  to  think  of,  wrings 
My  heart,  or  ere  I  tell  on  't.      But  if  words. 
That  I  may  utter,  shall  prove  seed  to  bear 
Fruit  of  eternal  infamy  to  him. 
The  traitor  whom  I  gnaw  at,  thou  at  once 
Shalt  see  me  speak  and  weep.      Who  thou  mayst  be 
I  know  not,  nor  how  here  below  art  come:  t 

But  Florentine  thou  seemest  of  a  truth, 
When  I  do  hear  thee.      Know,  I  was  on  earth 
Count  Ugolino,^  and  the  Archbishop  he 


•  Count  l/golino.—"  In  the  year  1288,  in  the  month  of 
July,  Pisa  was  much  divided  by  competitors  for  the 
sovereignty;  one  party,  composed  of  certain  of  the  Guelfi, 
being  headed  by  the  Judge  Nino  di  Gallura  de'  Visconti; 
another,  consisting  of  others  of  the  same  faction,  by  the 
Count  Ugolino  de*  Gherardeschi  ;  and  a  third  by  the 
Archbishop  Ruggieri  degli  Ubaldini,  with  the  Lanfranclii, 
Sismondi,  Gualandi,  and  other  Ghibelline  houses.  The 
Count  Ugolino,  to  effect  his  purpose,  united  with  the 
Archbishop  and  his  party,  and  having  betrayed  Nino, 
his  sister's  son,  they  contrived  that  he  and  his  followers 
should  either  be  driven  out  of  Pisa,  or  their  persons 
seized.  Nino  hearing  this,  and  not  seeing  any  means  of 
defending  himself,  retired  to  Calci,  his  castle,  and  formed 
an  alliance  with  the  Florentines  and  people  of  Lucca, 
against  the  Pisans.  The  Count,  before  Nino  was  gone, 
in  order  to  cover  his  treachery,  when  everything  was 
settled  for  his  expulsion,  quitted  Pisa,  and  repaired  to  a 
manor  of  his  called  Settimo ;  whence,  as  soon  as  he  was 


informed  of  Nino's  departure,  he  returned  to  Pisa  with 
great  rejoicing  and  festivity,  and  was  elevated  to  the 
supreme  power  with  every  demonstration  of  triumph  and 
honour.  But  his  greatness  was  not  of  long  continuance. 
It  pleased  the  Almighty  that  a  total  reverse  of  fortune 
should  ensue,  as  a  punishment  for  his  acts  of  treachery 
and  guilt;  for  he  was  said  to  have  poisoned  the  Count 
Ansclmo  da  Capraia,  his  sister's  son,  on  account  of  the 
envy  and  fear  excited  in  his  mind  by  the  high  esteem  in 
which  the  gracious  manners  of  Ansclmo  were  held  by 
the  Pisans.  The  power  of  the  Guelfi  being  so  much 
diminished,  the  Archbishop  devised  means  to  betray  the 
Count  Ugolino,  and  caused  him  to  be  suddenly  attacked 
in  his  palace  by  the  fury  of  the  people,  whom  he  had 
exasperated,  by  telling  them  that  Ugolino  had  betrayed 
Pisa,  and  given  up  their  castles  to  the  citizens  of  Florence 
and  of  Lucca.  He  was  immediately  compelled  to  sur- 
render ;  his  bastard  son  and  his  grandson  fell  in  the 
assault ;  and  two  of  his  sons,  with  their  two  sons  also, 


174 


THE   VISION. 


15-42- 


Ruggieri.      Why  I  neighbour  him  so  close, 

Now  list.      That  through  effect  of  his  ill  thoughts 

In  him  my  trust  reposing,  I  was  ta'en 

And  after  murder'd,  need  is  not  I  tell. 

What  therefore  thou  canst  not  have  heard,  that  is, 

How  cruel  was  the  murder,  shalt  thou  hear. 

And  know  if  he  have  wrong'd  me.     A  small  grate 

Within  that  mew,  which  for  my  sake  the  name 

Of  famine  bears,  vvhere  others  yet  must  pine. 

Already  through  its  opening  several  moons' 

Had  shown  me,  when  I  slept  the  evil  sleep 

That  from  the  future  tore  the  curtain  off. 

This  one,  methought,  as  master  of  the  sport, 

Rode  forth  to  chase  the  gaunt  wolf,  and  his  whelps, 

Unto  the  mountain^  which  forbids  the  sight 

Of  Lucca  to  the  Pisan.      With  lean  braches 

Inquisitive  and  keen,  before  him  ranged 

Lanfranchi  with  Sismondi  and  Gualandi. 

After  short  course  the  father  and  the  sons 

Seem'd  tired  and  lagging,  and  methought  I  saw 

The  sharp  tusks  gore  their  sides.     When  I  awoke, 

Before  the  dawn,  amid  their  sleep  I  heard 

My  sons  (for  they  were  with  me)  weep  and  ask 

For  bread.      Right  cruel  art  thou,  if  no  pang 

Thou  feel  at  thinking  what  my  heart  foretold ; 

And  if  not  now,  why  use  thy  tears  to  flow? 

Now  had  they  waken'd ;   and  the  hour  drew  near 

When  they  were  wont  to  bring  us  food ;   the  mind 


•ere  conve)-ed  to  prison."— C  Villani,  lib.  vii.,  c.  cxx. 
*  In  the  following  March,  the  Pisans,  who  h.id  imprisoned 
the  Count  Ugolino,  witli  two  of  his  sons  and  two  of  his 
grandchildren,  the  odTspring  of  his  son  the  Count  Guelfo, 
in  a  tower  on  the  Piazza  of  the  Anziani,  caused  the  tower 
to  be  locked,  the  key  thrown  into  tl)e  Arno,  and  all  food 
to  be  withheld  from  them.  In  a  few  days  they  died  of 
hunger  ;  but  the  Count  first  with  loud  cries  declared  his 
penitence,  and  yet  neither  priest  nor  friar  was  allowed  to 
shrive  him.  All  the  five,  when  dead,  were  dragged  out  of 
the  prison,  and  meanly  interred  ;  and  from  thenceforward 
the  tower  was  called  the  Tower  of  Famine,  and  so  shall 
ever  he."— /iid.,  c.  cxxvii.  Troya  asserts  that  Dante,  lor 
the  sake  of  poetical  effect,  has  much  misrepresented  the 


real  facts.  See  his  "  Veltro  Allegorico  di  Dante,"  ed. 
1826,  p.  28,  29.  This  would  render  a  conjecture,  which 
the  same  writer  elsewhere  hazards,  still  more  improbable  ; 
that  the  story  might  have  been  written  by  Dante  when 
the  facts  were  yet  recent,  and  afterwards  introduced  into 
his  poem.  —  /iiii.,  p.  96.  Chaucer  has  briefly  told 
Ugolino's  story.    See  "  Monke's  Tale,  Hugeline  of  Pise." 

'  Several  moons. — Many  editions,  and  the  greater  part 
of  the  MSS.,  instead  of  "piii  lune,"  read  "piulume;" 
according  to  which  reading  Ugolino  would  say,  that  the 
day  had  broke,  and  shone  through  the  grated  window  of 
the  prison,  before  he  fell  asleep. 

'  Unto  the  mountain.— The.  mountain  S.  Giuliano, 
between  Pisa  and  Lucca. 


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43-74- 


HELL. CANTO   XXXIII. 


175 


.^ 


Of  each  misgave  him  through  his  dream,  and  I 

Heard,  at  its  outlet  underneath  lock'd  up 

The  horrible  tower :   whence,  uttering  not  a  word, 

I  look'd  upon  the  visage  of  my  sons. 

I  wept  not :   so  all  stone  I  felt  within.' 

They  wept :   and  one,  my  little  Anselm,  cried, 

'Thou  lookest  so  I      Father,  what  ails  thee?'      Yet 

I  shed  no  tear,  nor  answer'd  all  that  day 

Nor  the  next  night,  until  another  sun 

Came  out  upon  the  world.      When  a  faint  beam 

Had  to  our  doleful  prison  made  its  way, 

And  in  four  countenances  I  descried 

The  image  of  my  own,  on  either  hand 

Through  agony  I  bit ;    and  they,  who  thought 

I  did  it  through  desire  of  feeding,  rose 

O'  the  sudden,  and  cried,  '  Father,  we  should  grieve 

Far  less,  if  thou  wouldst  eat  of  us :   thou  gavest^ 

These  weeds  of  miserable  flesh  we  wear; 

And  do  thou  strip  them  off  from  us  again,' 

Then,  not  to  make  them  sadder,  I  kept  down 

My  spirit  in  stillness.      That  day  and  the  next 

We  all  were  silent.      Ah,  obdurate  earth  1 

Why  open'dst  not  upon  us  ?      When  we  came 

To  the  fourth  day,  then  Gaddo  at  my  feet 

Outstretch'd  did  fling  him,  crying,   '  Hast  no  help 

For  me,  my  father?'      There  he  died;  and  e'en 

Plainly  as  thou  seest  me,  saw  I  the  three 

Fall  one  by  one  'twixt  the  fifth  day  and  sixth: 

Whence  I  betook  me,  now  grown  blind,  to  grope 

Over  them  all,  and  for  three  days  aloud 

Call'd  on  them  who  were  dead.     Then,  fasting  got 

The  mastery  of  grief."      Thus  having  spoke. 


'  AH  stone  T  felt  within. — 

"My  heart  is  turn'd  to  stone;   I  strike  it,  and  it  hurts 
my  hand." 

Shakespeare,  Othello,  Act  iv.,  sc.  I. 
'  Thou  gavest. — 

"  Tu  ne  vestisti 
Queste  misere  carni,  e  tu  le  spoglia." 


Imitated  by  Filicaja,  canz.  iii. : 

"  Di  questa  Imperial  caduca  spoglia 
Tu,  Signor,  me  vestisti  e  tu  mi  spo<;lia  : 
Ben  puoi  '1  Regno  me  tor  tu  che  me  '1  desti." 

And  by  Maffei  iu  the  "  Merope  :" 

"  Tu  disciogleste 
Queste  misere  membra  e  tu  le  annodi." 


176 


THE   VISION. 


rs— 106. 


Once  more  upon  the  wretched  skull  his  teeth 

He  fasten'd  like  a  mastiff's  'gainst  the  bone, 

Firm  and  unyielding.      Oh,  thou  Pisa  I   shame 

Of  all  the  people,  who  their  dwelling  make 

In  that  fair  region,'  where  the  Italian  voice 

Is  heard ;  .since  that  thy  neighbours  are  so  slack 

To  punish,  from  their  deep  foundations  rise 

Capraia  and  Gorgona,*  and  dam  up 

The  mouth  of  Arno ;   that  each  soul  in  thee 

May  perish  in  the  waters.      What  if  fame 

Reported  that  .thy  castles  were  betray'd 

By  Ugolino,  yet  no  right  hadst  thou 

To  stretch  his  children  on  the  rack.     For  them, 

Brigata,  Uguccione,  and  the  pair 

Of  gentle  ones,  of  whom  my  song  hath  told, 

Their  tender  years,  thou  modern  Thebes,  did  make 

Uncapable  of  guilt.     Onward  we  pass'd, 

Where  others,  scarf'd  in  rugged  folds  of  ice, 

Not  on  their  feet  were  turn'd,  but  each  reversed. 

There,  very  weeping  suffers  not  to  weep;^ 
For,  at  their  eyes,  grief,  seeking  passage,  finds 
Impediment,  and  rolling  inward  turns 
For  increase  of  sharp  anguish :   the  first  tears 
Hang  cluster'd,  and  like  crystal  vizors  show, 
Under  the  socket  brimming  all  the  cup. 

Now  though  the  cold  had  from  my  face  dislodged 
Each  feeling,  as  'twere  callous,  yet  me  seem'd 
Some  breath  of  wind  I  felt.      "  Whence  cometh  this," 
Said  I,  "  my  master  ?      Is  not  here  below 
All  vapour  quench'd  ?"     "Thou  sh.  t  be  speedily," 
He  answer'd,  "  where  thine  eyes  shall  tell  thee  whence, 
The  cause  descrying  of  this  airy  shower." 


'  In  that  fair  region. — 

"  Del  bel  paese  14,  dove  1  s)  suona." 
luly,  as  explained  by  Dante  himself,  in  his  treatise 
**  De  Vulgari  Eloqucntia,"  lib.  i.,  cap.  8  :  "  Qui  autem 
^■i  dicunt  a  prasdictis  finibus  (Januensium)  Orientalem 
(Mcridionalis  Europx  partem)  tenent ;  videlicet  usque 
ad  promontorium  iUud  Italiae,  qua  sinus  Adriatici  maris 
incipit  et  Siciliam." 


•  Capraia  and  Gorgona.—SmzW  islands  near  the  mouth 
of  the  Arno. 
'  There,  very  weeping  suffers  not  to  weep. — 

"  Lo  pianto  stesso  11  pianger  non  lascia." 

So   Giusto  de'   Conti,  "Bella  Mano,"  son.  "  Quanto  11 
ciel :" 

"  Che  il  troppo  pianto  a  me  pianger  non  lassa." 


I 


»07-i33- 


HELL. CANTO   XXXIII. 


177 


^ 


Then  cried  out  one,  in  the  chill  crust  who  mourn'd : 
"  Oh,  souls  I   so  cruel,  that  the  farthest  post 
Hath  been  assign 'd  you,  from  this  face  remove 
The  harden'd  veil  ;   that  I  may  vent  the  grief 
Impregnate  at  my  heart,  some  little  space, 
Ere  it  congeal  again."      I  thus  replied : 
'*  Say  who  thou  wast,  if  thou  wouldst  have  mine  aid ; 
And  if  I  extricate  thee  not,  far  down 
As  to  the  lowest  ice  may  I  descend." 

"The  friar  Alberigo,"'  ansvver'd  he, 
"Am  I,  who  from  the  evil  garden  pluck'd 
Its  fruitage,  and  am  here  repaid,  the  date^ 
More  luscious  for  my  fig."      "Ah!"    I  exclaim'd,  • 
"Art  thou  too  dead?"      "How  in  the  world  aloft 
It  fareth  with  my  body,"    answer'd  he, 
"  I  am  right  ignorant.      Such  privilege 
Hath  Ptolomea,*  that  oft-times  the  soul* 
Drops  hither,  ere  by  Atropos  divorced. 
And  that  thou  mayst  wipe  out  more  willingly 
The  glazed  tear-drops^  that  o'erlay  mine  eyes, 
Know  that  the  soul,  that  moment  she  betrays. 
As  I  did,  yields  her  body  to  a  fiend 
Who  after  moves  and  governs  it  at  will, 
Till  all  its  time  be  rounded  :    headlong  she 
Falls  to  this  cistern.      And  perchance  above 
Doth  yet  appear  the  body  of  a  ghost. 
Who  here  behind  me  winters.      Him  thou  know'st, 


'  TTie  friar  Alberigo.  —  Alberigo  de'  Manfredi  of 
Faenza,  one  of  the  Frati  Godenti,  Joyous  Friars,  who 
having  quarrelled  with  some  of  his  brotherhood,  under 
pretence  of  wishing  to  be  reconciled,  invited  them  to  a 
banquet,  at  the  conclusion  of  which  he  called  for  the 
fruit,  a  signal  for  the  assassins  to  rush  in  and  dispatch 
those  whom  he  had  marked  for  destruction.  Hence, 
adds  Landino,  it  is  said  proverbially  of  one  who  has  been 
stabbed,  that  he  has  had  some  of  the  friar  Alberigo's 
fruit     Thus  Pulci,  "  Morgante  Maggiore,"  c.  xxv. : 

''  Le  frutte  amare  di  frate  Albeiico." 
•  The  date  — 

"  Come  Dio  rende  dataro  per  fico." 
Fazio  df-sli  Uberti,  Dittamondo,  1.  iv.,  cap.  xix. 

'  Ptolomea.  —  This  circle  is  named  Ptolomea  from 


Ptolemy,  the  son  of  Abubus,  by  whom  Simon  and  his 
sons  were  murdered,  at  a  great  banquet  he  had  made  for 
them  (see  i  Mace,  xvi.) ;  or  from  Ptolemy,  King  of 
Egypt,  the  betrayer  of  Pompey  the  Great. 

*  The  soul. — Chaucer  seems  to  allude  to  this  in  the 
"  Frere's  Tale."  where  a  fiend  assumes  the  person  of  a 
yeoman,  and  tells  the  Sompnour  that  he  shall  one  day 
come  to  a  place  where  he  shall  understand  the  mystery 
of  such  possessions  — 

"  Bet  than  Virgile,  while  he  was  on  live^ 
Or  Dant  also." 

See  Mr.  Southey's  "Tale  of  Donica," 
'  The  glazed  tear-drops. — 

"  Sorrow's  eye,  glazed  with  blinding  tears 

Shakespeare,  Richard  II.,  Act  ii.,  sc.  "k. 


178 


THE  VISION. 


i34-'SS. 


If  thou  but  newly  art  arrived  below. 
The  years  are  many  that  have  past  away, 
Since  to  this  fastness  Branca  Doria'  came." 

"  Now,"  answer'd  I,  "  methinks  thou  mockest  me; 
For  Branca  Doria  never  yet  hath  died, 
But  doth  all  natural  functions  of  a  man, 
Eats,  drinks,  and  sleeps,^  and  putteth  raiment  on." 

He  thus :  "  Not  yet  unto  that  upper  fosse 
By  th'  evil  talons  guarded,  where  the  pitch 
Tenacious  boils,  had  Michel  Zanche  reach'd, 
When  this  one  left  a  demon  in  his  stead 
In  his  own  body,  and  of  one  his  kin, 
Who  with  him  treachery  wrought.      But  now  put  forth 
Thy  hand,  and  ope  mine  eyes."      I  oped  them  not. 
Ill  manners  were  best  courtesy  to  him. 

Ah,  Genoese  I    men  perverse  in  every  way. 
With  every  foulness  stain'd,  why  from  the  earth 
Are  ye  not  cancell'd  ?      Such  a  one  of  yours 
I  with  Romagna's  darkest  spirit^  found, 
As,  for  his  doings,  even  now  in  soul 
Is  in  Cocytus  plunged,  and  yet  doth  seem 
In  body  still  alive  upon  the  earth. 


'  Branca  Doria. — The  family  of  Doria  was  possessed 
of  great  influence  in  Genoa.  Branca  is  said  to  have 
murdered  his  father-in-law,  Michel  Zanche,  introduced  in 
canto  xxii. 

*  Eaii,  drinks,  andilupa. — 


"  But  'tis  a  spirit 
Pro.   No,  wench ;  it  eats  and  sleeps,  and  hath  such  senses 
As  we  have,  such." 

Shakespeare,  Tempest,  Act  L,  sc  2. 

»  Romagna's  darkest  spirit.— The  friar  Albcrigo. 


^ 


CANTO     XXXIV. 


ARGUMENT. 

In  the  fourth  and  last  round  of  the  ninth  circle,  those  who  have  betrayed  their  benefactors  are  wholly  covered  with 
ice.  And  in  the  midst  is  Lucifer,  at  whose  back  Dante  and  Virgil  ascend,  till  by  a  secret  path  they  reach  the 
surface  of  the  other  hemisphere  of  the  earth,  and  once  more  obtain  sight  of  the  stars. 


"HP HE   banners^  of  Hell's  Monarch  do  come  forth 

Toward  us  ;    therefore  look,"  so  spake  my  guide, 
*'  If  thou  discern  him."      As,  when  breathes  a  cloud 
Heavy  and  dense,  or  when  the  shades  of  night 
Fall  on  our  hemisphere,  seems  view'd  from  far 
A  windmill,^  which  the  blast  stirs  briskly  round ; 
Such  was  the  fabric  then  methought  I  saw. 

To  shield  me  from  the  wind,  forthwith  I  drew 
Behind  my  guide  :    no  covert  else  was  there. 

Now  came  I  (and  with  fear  I  bid  my  strain 
Record  the  marvel)  where  the  souls  were  all 
Whelm'd  underneath,  transparent,  as  through  glass 
Pellucid  the  frail  stem.      Some  prone  were  laid ; 
Others  stood  upright,  this  upon  the  soles, 
That  on  his  head,  a  third  with  face  to  feet 
Arch'd  like  a  bow.      When  to  the  point  we  came, 
Whereat  my  guide  was  pleased  that  I  should  see 
The  creature  eminent  in  beauty  once, 
He  from  before  me  stepp'd  and  made  me  pause. 

"Lol"   he  exclaim'd,  "  lo !   Dis ;   and  lo!  the  place, 
Where  thou  hast  need  to  arm  thy  heart  with  strength." 

How  frozen  and  how  faint  I  then  became, 


'  771*  tanners. — 

"  Vexilla  regis  prodeunt  inferni." 
A  parody  of  the  first  verse  in  a  hymn  that  was  sung  by 
the  Church  in  praise  of  the  cross. 


'  A  •windmill— Ta^  author  of  the  "Caliph  Vathek," 
in  the  notes  to  that  tale,  justly  observes  that  it  is  more 
than  probable  that  Don  Quixote's  mistake  of  the  wind- 
mills for  giants  was  suggested  to  Cervantes  by  this  simile. 


i8o 


THE   VISION. 


"3—44 


Ask  me  not,  reader  I    for  I  write  it  not; 
Since  words  would  fail  to  tell  thee  of  my  state. 
"I  was  not  dead  nor  living.'      Think  thyself, 
If  quick  conception  work  in  thee  at  all, 
How  I  did  feel.      That  emperor,  who  sways 
The  realm  of  sorrow,  at  mid  breast  from  the  ice 
Stood  forth;   and  I  in  stature  am  more  like 
A  giant,''  than  the  giants  are  his  arms. 
Mark  now  how  great  that  whole  must  be,  which  suits 
With  such  a  part.      If  he  were  beautiful 
As  he  is  hideous  now,  and  yet  did  dare 
To  scowl  upon  his  Maker,  well  from  him 
May  ali  our  misery  flow.      Oh,  what  a  sight ! 
How  passing  strange  it  seem'd,  when  I  did  spy 
Upon  his  head  three  faces  :^   one  in  front 
Of  hue  vermilion,  the  other  two  with  this 
Midway  each  shoulder  join'd  and  at  the  crest; 
The  right  'twixt  wan  and  yellow  seem'd  ;   the  left 
To  look  on,  such  as  come  from  whence  old  Nile 
Stoops  to  the  lowlands.      Under  each  shot  forth 
Two  mighty  wings,  enormous  as  became 
A  bird  so  vast.      Sails*  never  such  I  saw 


'  /  a«w  not  dead  nor  living. — 

"  oSr'  Iv  role  ^S'/xevoic, 
oSr^  iv  iaaiv  apiOfioifiei'Ti." 

Euripides,  Supplices,  v.  979,  Maikland's  edit. 

"Turn  ibi  me  nescio  quis  arripit 
Timidam  atque  pavidam,  nee  vivam  ncc  nioituain." 

Platitus,  Curculio,  Act  v.,  sc.  2. 
'  A  giant. — 

*  Nel  primo  clima  sta  come  signore 

Colli  giganti ;   ed  un  delle  sue  braccie 
Piu  che  nuUo  di  loro  e  assai  maggioie." 

Frezzi,  II  Qiiadiiregio,  lib.  ii.,  cap. i. 

•  Three  faces. — It  can  scarcely  be  doubted  but  that 
Milton  derived  his  description  of  Satan  in  those  lines — 

"  Each  passion  dimm'd  his  face 
Thrice  changed  with  pale  ire,  envy,  and  despair" — 
Paradise  Lost,  b.  iv.  144 — 

from  this  passage,  coupled  with  the  remark  of  Vellutcllo 
tipon  it:  "The  first  of  these  sins  is  anger,  which  he  sig- 
nifies by  the  red  face  ;  the  second,  represented  by  that 
between  pale  and  yellow,  is  envy,  and  not,  as  others  have 
said,  avarice;  and  the  third,  denoted  by  the  black,  is 
a  melancholy  humour  that  causes  a  man's  thoughts  to  be 
dark  and  evil,  and  averse  from  all  joy  and  tranquillity." 


Lombardi  would  understand  the  three  faces  to  signify  the 
three  parts  of  the  world  then  known,  in  all  of  which 
Lucifer  had  his  subjects :  the  red  denoting  the  Europeans, 
who  were  in  tl\e  middle;  the  yellow,  the  Asiatics,  on  the 
rigiit;  and  the  black,  the  Africans,  who  were  on  the  left; 
according  to  the  position  of  the  faces  themselves. 
*  Sails.^ 

"  Argo  non  ebbe  mai  si  grande  vela, 
Ne  altra  nave,  come  I'ali  sue ; 
Ne  mai  tessuta  fCi  si  grande  tela." 

Frezzi,  II  Quadriregio,  lib.  ii.,  cap.  xuc 

"  His  sail-broad  vans 
He  spreads  for  flight." 

Afilton,  Paradise  Lost,  b.  ii.  927. 

Compare  Spenser,  "Faery  Queen,"  b.  i.,  c'.  xi.,  st.  10; 
Ben  jonson's  "  Every  Man  out  of  his  Humour,"  v.  7 ;  and 
Fletcher's  "  Prophetess,"  Act  ii.,  sc  3.  In  his  descrip- 
tion of  Satan,  Frezzi  h.is  departed  not  less  from  Dante 
than  our  own  poet  has  done;  for  he  has  painted  him  on 
a  high  throne,  with  a  benignant  and  glad  countenance, 
yet  full  of  majesty,  a  triple  crown  on  his  head,  six  shining 
wings  on  his  shoulders,  and  a  court  tlironged  with 
giants,  centaurs,  and  mighty  captains,  besides  youths  and 
damsels,  who  are  disporting  in  the  neighbouring  meadows 
with  song  and  dance;  but  no  sooner  does  Minerva,  who 


♦i-66. 


HELL. — CANTO   XXXIV. 


i8i 


^ 


Outstretch'd  on  the  wide  sea.      No  plumes  had  they, 
But  were  in  texture  like  a  bat  ;i  and  these 
He  flapp'd  i'  th'  air,  that  from  him  issued  still 
Three  winds,  wherewith  Cocytus  to  its  depth 
Was  frozen.      At  six  eyes  he  wept :   the  tears 
Adown  three  chins  distill'd  with  bloody  foam. 
At  every  mouth  his  teeth  a  sinner  champ'd, 
Bruised  as  with  ponderous  engine ;   so  that  three 
Were  in  this  guise  tormented.      But  far  more 
Than  from  that  gnawing,  was  the  foremost  pang'd 
By  the  fierce  rending,  whence  oft-times  the  back 
Was  stript  of  all  its  skin.      "  That  upper  spirit. 
Who  hath  worst  punishment,"  so  spake  my  guide, 
"  Is  Judas,  he  that  hath  his  head  within 
And  plies  the  feet  without.      Of  th'  other  two, 
Whose  heads  are  under,  from  the  murky  jaw 
Who  hangs,  is  Brutus  :^   lo  !  how  he  doth  writhe 
And  speaks  not.      The  other,  Cassius,  that  appears 
So  large  of  limb.      But  night  now  re-ascends ; 
And  it  is  time  for  parting.      All  is  seen." 

I  clipp'd  him  round  the  neck  ;   for  so  he  bade ; 
And  noting  time  and  place,  he,  when  the  wings 


is  the  author's  conductress,  present  her  crystal  shield,  than 
all  this  triumph  and  jollity  is  seen  through  it  transformed 
into  loatlisomeness  and  hoiTor.  There  are  many  touches 
in  this  picture  that  will  remind  the  reader  of  Milton. 

'  Like  a  hat. — The  description  of  an  imaginary  being, 
who  is  called  Typhurgo,  in  the  "  Zodiacus  Vita,"  has 
something  very  like  this  of  Dante's  Lucifer: 

"  Ingentem  vidi  regem,  ingentique  sedentem 
In  solio,  crines  flammanti  stcmmate  cinctum, 

utrinque  patentes 

Alae  humeris  magna,  quales  vespertilionum 

Membranis  contextJE  amplis — 

Nuduserat  longis  scd  opertus  corpora  villis." 

M.  Paliiigenii,  Zodiacus  Vita,  lib.  ix. 

"A  mighty  king  I  might  discerne, 
Placed  high  on  lofty  chaire, 
His  haire  with  fyry  garland  dcckt 
Puft  up  in  fiendish  wise. 

•  ■  •  a  •  .  . 

Large  wings  on  him  did  grow 

Framde  like  the  wings  of  Hinder  mice,"  &c. 

Cooges  Tratislation. 

'  /Jr/z/z/j.— l.andino  stniggles,  but,  1  fear,  in  vain,  to 
extricate   Brutus  from  the  unworthy  lot  which  is  here 


assigned  him.  He  maintains  that  by  Brutus  and  Cassius 
are  not  meant  the  individuals  known  by  those  names, 
but  any  who  put  a  lawful  monarch  to  death.  Yet  if 
Caesar  was  such,  the  conspirators  might  be  regarded  as 
deserving  of  their  doom.  "O  uomini  eccellenti !"  ex- 
claims the  commentator,  with  a  spirit  becoming  one  wlio 
felt  that  he  lived  in  a  free  state,  "cd  al  tutto  degni  a  quali 
Roma  fosse  patria,  e  de'  quali  restera  sempre  eterna 
memoria;  legginsi  tutte  le  leggi  di  qualunque  republica 
bene  instituta,  e  troveremo  che  a  nessuno  si  propose 
maggior  premio  che  a  chi  uccide  il  tiranno."  Cowley,  as 
conspicuous  for  his  loyalty  as  for  his  genius,  in  an  ode 
inscribed  with  the  name  of  this  patriot,  which,  though  not 
free  from  the  usual  faults  of  the  poet,  is  yet  a  noble  one, 
has  placed  his  character  in  the  right  point  of  view — 

"  Excellent  Brutus !  of  all  human  race 
The  best,  till  nature  was  improved  by  gi-ace." 

If  Dante,  however,  believed  Brutus  to  have  been  actuated 
by  evil  motives  in  putting  Cresar  to  death,  the  excellence 
of  the  patriot's  character  in  other  respects  would  only 
have  aggravated  his  guilt  in  that  particular.  "  Totius 
autem  injustitiae  nulla  capitalior  est  quam  eorum,  qui  cum 
maxime  fallunt  id  agunt,  ut  viri  boni  esse  videantur."— 
Cicero  de  OJJiciis,  lib.  i.,  cap.  xiiL 


1 82  THE  VISION.  67—101. 

Enoup;h  were  ope'd,  caught  fast  the  shaggy  sides. 
And  down  from  pile  to  pile  descending  stepp'd 
Between  the  thick  fell  and  the  jagged  ice- 
Soon  as  he  reach'd  the  point,  whereat  the  thigh 
Upon  the  swelling  of  the  haunches  turns, 
My  leader  there,  with  pain  and  struggling  hard, 
Turn'd  round  his  head  where  his  feet  stood  before, 
And  grappled  at  the  fell  as  one  who  mounts ; 
That  into  hell  methought  we  turn'd  again. 

"  Expect  that  by  such  stairs  as  these,"  thus  spake 
The  teacher,  panting  like  a  man  forespent, 
•'We  must  depart  from  evil  so  extreme:" 
Then  at  a  rocky  opening  issued  forth, 
And  placed  me  on  the  brink  to  sit,  next  join'd 
With  wary  step  my  side.      I  raised  mine  eyes, 
Believing  that  I  Lucifer  should  see 
Where  he  was  lately  left,  but  saw  him  now 
With  legs  held  upward.      Let  the  grosser  sort, 
Who  see  not  what  the  point  was  I  had  past, 
Bethink  them  if  sore  toil  oppress'd  me  then, 

"Arise,"  my  master  cried,  "upon  thy  feet. 
The  way  is  long,  and  much  uncouth  the  road ; 
And  now  within  one  hour  and  half  of  noon' 
The  sun  returns."      It  was  no  palace  hall 
Lofty  and  luminous  wherein  we  stood. 
But  natural  dungeon  where  ill-footing  was 
And  scant  supply  of  light.      "  Ere  from  the  abyss 
I  separate,"  thus  when  risen  I  began : 
"  My  guide  I   vouchsafe  few  words  to  set  me  free 
From  error's  thraldom.      Where  is  now  the  ice? 
How  standeth  he  in  posture  thus  reversed? 
And  how  from  eve  to  morn  in  space  so  brief 
Hath  the  sun  made  his  transit?"      He  in  few 
Thus  answering  spake :    "  Thou  deemest  thou  art  still 
On  the  other  side  the  centre,  where  I  grasp'd 


*  Within  one  hour  and  half  0/  noon.— The  poet  uses      |      which  the  third  hour  answers  to  our  twelve  o'clock  at 
the  Hebrew  manner  of  computing  the  day,  according  to      I      noon. 


^ 


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A  »83. 


By  that  hidden  way 
My  guide  and  I  did  enter,  to  return 
To  the  fair  world. 


Canto  XXXIV.,  lines  127-129. 


A  «83- 


Thence  issuing  we  again  beheld  the  stars. 

Canto  XXXIV.,  Uiu  133 


102  — 133- 


HELL. — CANTO   XXXIV. 


183 


The  abhorred  worm  that  boreth  through  the  world. 

Thou  wast  on  the  other  side,  so  long  as  I 

Descended  ;    when  I  turn'd,  thou  didst  o'erpass 

That  point,^  to  which  from  every  part  is  dragg'd 

All  heavy  substance.      Thou  art  now  arrived 

Under  the  hemisphere  opposed  to  that, 

Which  the  great  continent  doth  overspread, 

And  underneath  whose  canopy  expired 

The  Man,  that  was  born  sinless  and  so  lived. 

Thy  feet  are  planted  on  the  smallest  sphere, 

Whose  other  aspect  is  Judecca.     Morn 

Here  rises,  when  there  evening  sets  :    and  he, 

Whose  shaggy  pile  we  scaled,  yet  standeth  fix'd,  , 

As  at  the  lirst.      On  this  part  he  fell  down 

From  heaven  ;    and  th'  earth,  here  prominent  before, 

Through  fear  of  him  did  veil  her  with  the  sea, 

And  to  our  hemisphere  retired.      Perchance, 

To  shun  him,  was  the  vacant  space  left  here, 

By  what  of  firm  land  on  this  side  appears,^ 

That  sprang  aloof."     There  is  a  place  beneath, 

From  Beelzebub  as  distant,  as  extends 

The  vaulted  tomb  ;^   discover'd  not  by  sight. 

But  by  the  sound  of  brooklet,  that  descends 

This  way  along  the  hollow  of  a  rock. 

Which,  as  it  winds  with  no  precipitous  course, 

The  wave  hath  eaten.      By  that  hidden  way 

My  guide  and  1  did  enter,  to  return 

To  the  fair  world  :   and  heedless  of  repose 

We  climb'd,  he  first,  I  following  his  steps. 

Till  on  our  view  the  beautiful  lights  of  heaven 

Dawn'd  through  a  circular  opening  in  the  cave; 

Thence  issuing  we  again  beheld  the  stars. 


•  T^at point. — Monti  observes  that  if  this  passage  had 
chanced  to  meet  the  eye  of  Newton,  it  might  better  have 
awakened  his  thought  to  conceive  the  system  of  attrac- 
tion, than  the  accidental  falling  of  an  apple. — Proposta,  v. 
iiL,  part  2,  p.  Ixxviii.  8vo,  1824. 


'  By  what  of  frm  land  on  this  side  appears. — The 
mountain  of  Purgatory. 

'  As  extends  the  vaulted  tomb. — "  La  tomba."  This 
word  is  used  to  express  the  whole  depth  of  the  infernal 
region. 


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Dante  Al ighieri , 

Dante's  Inferno   47087424