The Divine Comedy
Page 41
70-72. THE SHAPE OF THE VALLEY. The point is much disputed. I conceive the valley to lie in a U-shaped fold with the mouth of the U facing East and the sides inclining upward into the mass of the Mountain. The incline would seem to be regular. Hence, when the Poets come to the point at which the rim stands at mid-height, they are halfway up what I understand to be the southern side of the U, a position from which they can best observe the whole valley, being as it were at the fifty-yard line.
82. Salve Regina! The beginning of the Compline Hymn in the Roman Catholic Breviary. It is an especially apt choice as the hymn of these souls: “Hail Queen, mother of Mercy . . . to thee we sigh . . . in this valley of tears.”
85-87. “Sirs,” said that Mantuan: This is the first time Sordello’s form of address includes both the Poets. Dante has not yet even been presented to him. do not request that I conduct you there while any light remains: See note on The Law of the Ascent. Sordello here carries it a step further: one may descend into the valley after dark (as they will in the next Canto), but no downward step may be taken while any of the Sun’s light remains. Characteristically, the detail is sound both as allegory and as narrative, for the valley is in fact best observed from the rim.
91-95. THE EMPEROR RUDOLPH. Rudolph of Hapsburg, 1218-1291, crowned Emperor, 1273. He is the Father of “German Albert” (VI, 100, note) and with him shared the blame for failing to unify Italy. Dante’s dream of a unified Italy was not realized until the mid-nineteenth century.
96. Now, though another try, ’t will be too late: The other is Henry VII of Luxemburg, Emperor from 1308 to 1313. Henry, as Emperor, tried to accomplish, under circumstances that had by then made it impossible, what Rudolph and Albert had neglected to do under circumstances that assured success.
This line contains another of Dante’s political “prophecies,” the accuracy of which (see Inferno, VI, 61, note) was made possible by the fact that he was writing as if in 1300 but actually as of ten to fifteen years later. The exact dates of the composition of the Commedia cannot be fixed, though likely dates would be from 1308 to 1321. Clearly Purgatory must have been written after Henry had attempted to unify Italy and had failed, hence, after 1310.
97. That one who comforts him: Ottocar II, King of Bohemia (the land whose waters drain into the Moldau, to the Elbe, to the sea) from 1253 to 1278. In life he was Rudolph’s enemy and a tyrant whose acts might well have reserved for him a bath in Phlegethon (Inferno, XII) with the Violent against their Neighbors. Dante may have known him only as a valiant warrior. His object in placing him here seems to be to show the reconciliation of enemies after true repentance and forgiveness.
102. Wenceslaus: Wenceslaus IV (the Good), born in 1270, succeeded his father as King of Bohemia in 1278. He was elected King of Poland in 1300, and died 1305. Despite a promising beginning as king, Wenceslaus was forced to cede many territories for which his warrior father would have fought to the death. Wenceslaus preferred piety to warfare, habitually hearing several masses daily. With his spirits thus restored, he seems to have found the strength for scouting various bedrooms, for he had begotten numerous illegitimate children by the time he was twenty-five. Hence Dante’s charge that he was dissipated.
103. That Snubnose: Philip III of France (the Bold, also The Snubnose), 1245-1285, succeeded his father, Louis IX, in 1270. He did not die while actually in flight from the field of battle, but at Perpignan, to which he had retired after the French navy had been annihilated by Pedro III of Aragon.
104. the kindly looking one: Henry (the Fat) of Navarre, reigned 1270-1274. He died reportedly “suffocated by the fat of his own body.” In life he was quite other than kindly, and might have made excellent Hell-bait, but Dante obviously credits him with having breathed a true repentance from somewhere among the folds of his “suffocating fat.”
109. The Plague of France: Philip IV (the Fair) of France, born 1268, crowned 1285, died 1314. Second son of Philip III, he married Juana, daughter of Henry of Navarre. It is his misrule and his vicious life that unite (line 103: their heads “close pressed”) his father and father-in-law.
Philip IV was for Dante the archetype of the evil ruler, in much the same way that Boniface VIII (whom Philip humiliated and drove to an early death) was the archetype of the evil Pope. Internally, Philip ruined whole provinces by his extortions and currency frauds. He systematically jailed Italian merchants (for ransom) on false charges, cruelly robbed the Jews, and suppressed the Knights Templars in order to confiscate their properties. Externally, he played a disastrous hand in Italian politics. Soon after he had eliminated Boniface VIII, he succeeded in placing one of his puppet cardinals on the Papal Throne as Clement V. Under Clement V the Papal Seat was transferred to Avignon. (Inferno, XIX, refers to Clement’s intrigue with Philip and makes clear that a place in Hell is awaiting Clement.) In XX and XXXII, below, Dante inveighs against Philip, and again in Paradiso, XIX.
112-113. The heavy-sinewed one . . . that spirit with the manly nose: Another pair of former enemies reconciled. The first is Pedro III of Aragon, 1236-1285, King of Aragon, 1276, and (after the bloody Sicilian Vespers of 1282 in which all the French were massacred) King of Sicily. He married Manfred’s “good Constance” (III, 143). Dante’s phrasing in these lines obviously suggests that the first spirit is virile, whereas the second is virile only in the nose.
That second spirit, Pedro’s equal only in the nose, is Charles I of Anjou, 1220-1285, crowned King of Sicily and Puglia (Apulia) in 1265. It was Charles who destroyed Manfred at Benevento in 1265 and who was overthrown in the Sicilian Vespers. Dante inveighs against his misrule in XX and again in Paradiso, VIII, 73 ff. Once again Dante’s intent in presenting the soul of such a man in Purgatory must have been to show that no amount of wickedness will damn a man if he achieves true repentance.
115. that younger one: Alfonso III (the Magnificent), 1271-1291, crowned King of Aragon, 1286. He left no heirs and his rule passed to his degenerate younger brothers, the throne of Aragon to James, and that of Sicily to Frederick, both of whom were ruling in 1300, hence the “now” of line 119. Thus the meaning of lines 119-120 is that the younger sons have the material heritage of their father, Pedro, but that no one (now that Alfonso is dead) possesses his better heritage (i.e., his merit).
124-129. A difficult passage. Dante refers again to Charles and Pedro, still developing the theme of the degeneracy of sons. The theme applies not only to Pedro in the degeneracy of James and of Frederick, but to Charles as well. Dante’s meaning is that the son, Charles the Lame, is as inferior to his father, Charles I, as Charles I is to Pedro. Hence their kingdoms mourn. But Dante carries the figure through a very complicated comparison, which may be read: “The seedling [Charles II] is inferior to the tree [Charles I] by as much as Constance [widow of Pedro III] may praise her husband above the husband of Margaret and Beatrice [they were the two wives of Charles I].”
130. Henry of England: Henry III, 1216-1278. A pious but pallid king. His son, Edward I, however (who was ruling in 1300), crowned a glorious reign with an enduring reform of English law. Hence Henry’s “branches came to a good issue in a noble son.”
Henry is seated alone in part, perhaps, because he had no connection with the Holy Roman Empire, but much more importantly because he is unique in this company. Henry attended so many masses daily that he never got around to governing his kingdom. His sin, therefore, could not have been neglect of God, but rather neglect of his divinely-imposed duties to rule his kingdom well. His presence in this company adds an interesting dimension to Dante’s concept, for Henry’s sin is the reverse of the general pattern here. Dante’s Aristotelian mind could not cherish any excess: the Good is the Golden Mean, to wander from the mean in either direction is equally culpable.
133-137. THE MARQUIS WILLIAM. William VII (Longsword), Marquis of Monferrato, 1245-1292. A lesser prince than the others, hence he sits below and looks up to them. As Imperial Vicar to Italy he headed a coalition of Ghibelline towns. In 1290 the Repub
lic of Asti fomented a rebellion in Alessandria, a town held by William. William, attempting to put down the rebellion, was captured, locked in an iron cage, and exposed to public ridicule. He died in the cage, and even in death his body was shockingly abused by the Alessandrians. William’s son moved against Alessandria to avenge his father, but the Alessandrians defeated him and invaded Monferrato and Canavese, the two districts of William’s fief. Their invasion left the citizens with ample reasons for tears.
Canto VIII
ANTE-PURGATORY:
THE FLOWERING VALLEY
The Negligent Rulers
Nightfall, Easter Sunday
The Guardian Angels
The Serpent
As the light fades, Dante, Virgil, and Sordello stand on the bank and watch the souls below gather and sing the COMPLINE HYMN, asking for protection in the night. In response to the hymn TWO GREEN ANGELS descend from Heaven and take their posts, one on each side of the valley. Full darkness now settles, and the Poets may make their DESCENT INTO THE VALLEY.
Dante immediately finds a soul he knows, JUDGE NINO DE’ VISCONTI, and has a long conversation with him in which both bemoan the infidelity of widows who remarry.
When Judge Nino has finished speaking, Dante looks at the South Pole and sees that THREE STARS (the Three Theological Virtues) have replaced THE FOUR STARS (the Four Cardinal Virtues) he had seen at dawn.
As he is discussing them with Virgil THE SERPENT appears and is immediately routed by the Angels, who return to their posts. Dante then has a conversation with CONRAD MALASPINA, whom Judge Nino had summoned when he found out Dante was a living man. Dante owes a debt of gratitude to the Malaspina House for its hospitality to him in his exile, and he takes this opportunity to praise the house and to have Conrad prophesy that Dante shall live to know more about it.
It was the hour that turns the memories
of sailing men their first day out, to home,
and friends they sailed from on that morning’s breeze;
that thrills the traveler newly on his way
with love and yearning when he hears afar
the bell that seems to mourn the dying day—
when I began, for lack of any sound,
to count my hearing vain: and watched a spirit
who signaled for attention all around.
Raising his hands, he joined his palms in prayer
and turned his rapt eyes east, as if to say:
“I have no thought except that Thou art there.”
“Te lucis ante” swelled from him so sweetly,
with such devotion and so pure a tone,
my senses lost the sense of self completely.
Then all the others with a golden peal
joined in the hymn and sang it to the end,
their eyes devoutly raised to Heaven’s wheel.
Reader, if you seek truth, sharpen your eyes,
for here the veil of allegory thins
and may be pierced by any man who tries.
I saw that host of kings, its supplication
sung to a close, stand still and pale and humble,
eyes raised to Heaven as if in expectation.
I saw two angels issue and descend
from Heaven’s height, bearing two flaming swords
without a point, snapped off to a stub end.
Green as a leaf is at its first unfurling,
their robes; and green the wings that beat and blew
the flowing folds back, fluttering and whirling.
One landed just above me, and one flew
to the other bank. Thus, in the silent valley,
the people were contained between the two.
I could see clearly that their hair was gold,
but my eyes drew back bedazzled from their faces,
defeated by more light than they could hold.
“They are from Mary’s bosom,” Sordello said,
“and come to guard the valley from the Serpent
that in a moment now will show its head.”
And I, not knowing where it would appear,
turned so I stood behind those trusted shoulders
and pressed against them icy-cold with fear.
Once more Sordello spoke: “Now let us go
to where the great souls are, and speak to them.
The sight of you will please them much, I know.”
It was, I think, but three steps to the base
of the little bank; and there I saw a shade
who stared at me as if he knew my face.
The air was closing on its darkling hour,
yet not so fast but what it let me see,
at that close range, what it had veiled before.
I took a step toward him; he, one toward me—
Noble Judge Nin! how it rejoiced my soul
to see you safe for all eternity!
No welcome was left unsaid on either side.
Then he inquired: “How long since did you come
to the mountain’s foot over that widest tide?”
“Oh,” I replied, “I came by the pits of woe—
this morning. I am still in my first life,
though I gain the other on the road I go.”
He and Sordello, when they heard me thus
answer the question, suddenly drew back
as if surprised by something marvelous.
One turned to Virgil, and one turned aside
to a shade who sat nearby. “Conrad! Get up!
See what the grace of God has willed!” he cried.
And then to me: “By all the thankful praise
you owe to Him who hides His primal cause
so deep that none may ever know His ways—
when you have once more crossed the enormous tide,
tell my Giovanna to cry out my name
there where the innocent are gratified.
I do not think her mother cares for me
since she put off the weeds and the white veil
that she will once more long for presently.
She shows all men how long love’s fire will burn
within a woman’s heart when sight and touch
do not rekindle it at every turn.
Nor will the Milanese viper she must bear
upon her tomb do her such honor in it
as would Gallura’s cock emblazoned there.”
So spoke he; and his features bore the seal
of that considered anger a good man
reaches in reason and may rightly feel.
I looked up at the Heavens next, and eyed
that center point at which the stars are slowest,
as a wheel is next the axle. And my Guide:
“My son, what is it that you stare at so?”
And I: “At those three stars there in whose light
the polar regions here are all aglow.”
And he to me: “Below the rim of space
now ride the four bright stars you saw this morning,
and these three have arisen in their place.”
Sordello started as my Guide said this;
and clutching him, he pointed arm and finger,
crying: “Our Adversary! There he is!”
Straight through the valley’s unprotected side
a serpent came, perhaps the very one
that gave the bitter food for which Eve cried.
Through the sweet grass and flowers the long sneak drew,
turning its head around from time to time
to lick itself as preening beasts will do.
I did not see and cannot tell you here
how the celestial falcons took to flight;
but I did see that both were in the air.
Hearing their green wings beating through the night,
the serpent fled. The angels wheeled and climbed
back to their posts again in equal flight.
The shade the Judge had summoned with his cry
had
not moved from his side; through all that fray
he stared at me without blinking an eye.
“So may the lamp that leads to what you seek
find oil enough,” he said, “in your own will
to light your way to the enameled peak;
if you can say for certain how things stand
in Val di Magra or those parts, please do,
for I was once a great lord in that land.
Conrad Malaspina I was—the grandson
and not the Elder. Here I purify
the love I bore for those who were my own.”
“Oh,” I replied, “I never have been near
the lands you held; but is there in all Europe