33. Polyclete, or Polycletus, was a celebrated Greek sculptor (ca. 452–412 B.C.) and a contemporary of Phidias. Just as Phidias was thought to be unsurpassed in carving images of the gods, so Polycletus was thought to execute perfect carvings of men.
41. The Virgin Mary in conceiving Christ “unlocked” for mankind the love of God.
57. This line refers to the presumptuous act of Uzzah, who accompanied the Ark during the first stage of its journey.
Ahead of it moved seven separate choirs testing my senses: one of these said, “No, ” the other one said, “Yes, they truly sing!”
60
With equal art, the smoke which censers poured was traced so faithfully that eyes and nose could not decide between a “yes” or “no. ”
63
Ahead, and far beyond the sacred Ark, his robes girt up, the humble Psalmist danced, showing himself both more and less than king.
66
Depicted on the other side was Michal, as from a palace window she looked on, her face revealed her sadness and her scorn.
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I moved away from that place to observe at closer range another story told in whiteness just beyond the face of Michal.
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Here was retold the magnanimity of that great Prince of Rome whose excellence moved Gregory to win his greatest fight:
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there rode the noble Trajan, Emperor, and clinging to his bridle as she wept a wretched widow, carved in lines of grief.
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The trampled space surrounding him was packed with knights on horseback—eagles, flying high, threaded in gold of banners in the wind.
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That poor widow amid the mass of shapes seemed to be saying: “Lord, avenge my son who has been killed; my heart is cut with grief. ”
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67. Michal, David’s first wife, daughter of King Saul, observed with disdain and reproach her husband’s humble dance of joy. For her arrogant attitude she was punished with sterility (cf. 2 Kings 6:23).
He seemed to answer: “You will have to wait for my return. ” And she, like one impelled by frantic grief: “But, oh, my lord, if you
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should not return?” And he: “Who takes my place will do it for me. ” She: “How can you let another’s virtue take the place of yours?”
90
Then he: “Take comfort, for I see I must perform my duty, now, before I leave: Justice so wills, and pity holds me here. ”
93
That One for Whom no new thing can exist fashioned this art of visible speech—so strange to us who do not know it here on earth.
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As I stood there delighting in the sight of these august humilities displayed, dear to behold for their own Craftsman’s sake,
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“See, over there, how slowly they approach, that crowd of souls, ” the Poet whispered to me, “they will direct us to the lofty stairs. ”
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My eyes, intent on their admiring, were, nonetheless, not slow to turn toward him, for they are always eager for new sights.
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But, Reader, when I tell you how God wills His penitents should pay their debts, do not abandon your intention to repent.
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You must not think about the punishment, think but of what will come of it—at worst it cannot last beyond the Final Day.
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“Master, what I see moving toward us there, ” I said, “do not seem to be shades at all; I don’t know what they are, my sight’s confused. ”
114
“The grievous nature of their punishment, ” he answered, “bends their bodies toward the ground; my own eyes were not sure of what they saw.
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94. The “One” is God (cf. Inferno XV, 11).
Try hard to disentangle all the parts of what you see moving beneath those stones. Can you see now how each one beats his breast?”
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O haughty Christians, wretched, sluggish souls, all you whose inner vision is diseased, putting your trust in things that pull you back,
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do you not understand that we are worms, each born to form the angelic butterfly, that flies defenseless to the Final Judge?
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Why do your souls’ pretensions rise so high, since you are but defective insects still, worms as yet imperfectly evolved?
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Sometimes one sees a corbel, holding the weight of roof or ceiling, carved in human shape with chest pressed tightly down against its knees,
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so that this unreality gives real anguish to one who sees it—this is how these souls appeared, and how they made me feel.
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True, some of them were more compressed, some less, as more or less weight pressed on each one’s back, but even the most patient of them all
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seemed through his tears to say: “I can’t go on!”
CANTO XI
TTHE CANTO OPENS with the prayer of the Proud — an expanded version of the Lord’s Prayer. Virgil then asks the penitents to tell him the quickest way up the mountain, and one of the souls replies that he will show them an opening through which they may ascend. This is the soul of Omberto Aldobrandesco, who acknowledges that the sin of pride in family has ruined not only himself but his entire house. The Pilgrim is then recognized by another soul, Oderisi of Gubbio, who proclaims against the empty glory of human talent. And Oderisi points to still another of the souls of the Proud — Provenzan Salvani, the presumptuous dictator of Siena.
“Our Father Who in Heaven dost abide, not there constrained but dwelling there because Thou lovest more Thy lofty first effects,
3
hallowed be Thy name, hallowed Thy Power, by Thy creatures as it behooves us all to render thanks for Thy sweet effluence.
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Thy kingdom come to us with all its peace; if it come not, we of ourselves cannot attain to it, no matter how we strive.
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And as Thine angels offer up their wills to Thee in sacrifice, singing Hosannah, let all men offer up to Thee their own.
12
Give us this day our daily manna, Lord: without it, those most eager to advance go backwards through this wild wasteland of ours.
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As we forgive our trespassers, do Thou, forgive our trespasses, merciful Lord, look not upon our undeserving worth.
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Our strength is only weakness, lead us not into temptation by our ancient foe: deliver us from him who urges evil.
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This last request, beloved Lord, we make not for ourselves, who know we have no need, but for those souls who still remain behind. ”
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4-5. The phrase “by Thy creatures, ” added to the original “hallowed be Thy name, ” is reminiscent of the Laudes creatururum of Saint Francis, who was perhaps the greatest example of humility in the Middle Ages.
13-15. The replacement of the original “daily bread” by a “daily manna, ” as well as the reference to the desert, recalls the Exodus theme of the Antepurgatory (in particular see Purgatory II, 45).
24. The souls are those still living on earth, who need protection from temptation.
Thus, praying for their welfare and for ours, those souls moved slowly bent beneath their weights— the slowness that oppresses us in dreams—
27
unequally tormented by their loads, making their tired way on the First Round, purging away the filth of worldliness.
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If they, up there, pray always for our good, think of what we down here can do for them, when praying hearts are rooted in good will!
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We ought, indeed, to help them wash away the stains they bring from earth, that they may rise, weightless and pure, into the wheeling stars.
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“Ah, so may justice joined with pity free you from your load, that you may spread your wings and fly up to the goal of y
our desire,
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show us how we may find the shortest way to reach the stairs; if there are many paths, direct us to the one least steep to climb:
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this man who comes here with me bears a weight; he is invested still with Adam’s flesh, and so, against his will, is slow to climb. ”
45
Some words then came in answer to the ones that had been spoken by my leader, but it was not clear to me from whom they came;
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someone, however, said: “Follow this bank along the right with us, and you will find the road a living man can surely climb.
51
If I were not prevented by this stone that curbs the movement of my haughty neck, and makes me keep my face bent to the ground,
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I would look up to see if I might know this unnamed living man, and hope to move him to compassion for my burdened back.
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28. Each soul is tormented according to the gravity and extent of his own sin.
I was Italian, born of a great Tuscan: Guglielmo Aldobrandesco was my sire. Perhaps you never heard the name before.
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My ancient lineage, the gallant deeds of my forebears had made me arrogant: forgetful of our common Mother Earth,
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I held all men in such superb disdain, I died for it, as all Siena knows and every child in Compagnatico.
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I am Omberto. And the sin of Pride has ruined not only me but all my house, dragging them with it to calamity.
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This weight which I refused while I still lived, I now am forced to bear among the dead, until the day that God is satisfied. ”
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I had my head bent low, to hear his words, and someone—not the one who spoke just now— twisted around beneath his punishment,
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and saw my face, and knew me, and called out, straining to keep his eyes on me, as I moved with those souls, keeping my body bent.
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“Oh!” I said, “ you must be that Oderisi, honor of Gubbio, honor of the art which men in Paris call ‘Illuminating. ’ “
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“The pages Franco Bolognese paints, ” he said, “my brother, smile more radiantly; his is the honor now—mine is far less.
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59. The name Guglielmo Aldobrandesco, which occupies almost the entire line, seems to echo the grandiose qualities of Omberto’s father, the mighty Tuscan.
67. Omberto was the second son of Guglielmo Aldobrandesco (59), Count of San- tafiora, whose hatred of the Sienese led him to abandon the Ghibelline cause and ally himself with the Guelphs of Florence and Tuscany.
79. Oderisi (ca. 1240-1299?) was an illuminator of manuscripts.
Less courteous would I have been to him, I must admit, while I was still alive and my desire was only to excel.
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For pride like that the price is paid up here; I would not even be here, were it not that, while I still could sin, I turned to God.
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Oh, empty glory of all human power! How soon the green fades from the topmost bough, unless the following season shows no growth!
93
Once Cimabue thought to hold the field as painter; Giotto now is all the rage, dimming the lustre of the other’s fame.
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So, one Guido takes from the other one poetic glory; and, already born, perhaps, is he who’ll drive both from fame’s nest.
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Your earthly fame is but a gust of wind that blows about, shifting this way and that, and as it changes quarter, changes name.
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Were you to reach the ripe old age of death, instead of dying prattling in your crib, would you have more fame in a thousand years?
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What are ten centuries to eternity? Less than the blinking of an eye compared to the turning of the slowest of the spheres.
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94. Cenni de Pepo, known as Giovanni Cimabue (1240?-1302?), was considered in the Florence of his day a great master. He broke from the Byzantine tradition of art to develop a more natural style.
95. Giotto of Bondone (1266 or 1267-1337) was a pupil of Cimabue’s who went on to surpass his master. Giotto appears to have been a personal friend of Dante’s (one or two years his junior), and is most likely responsible for the famous portrait of Dante in the Bargello at Florence.
97-99. The first Guido is Guido Cavalcanti (1259-1300), and the other is Guido Guinizelli (ca. 1230-ca. 1276), a Bolognese poet whom Dante refers to as his “father” and the father of “all those who wrote poetry of love in a sweet and graceful style” (Purgatory XXVI, 97-99).
You see that soul ahead crawling along? All Tuscany resounded with his name; now hardly is it whispered in Siena,
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where once he ruled, and managed to destroy the mad attack of Florence—once, so proud but, now, become as venal as a whore.
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Your earthly fame is like the green in grass: it comes and goes, and He who makes it grow green from the earth will make it fade again. ”
117
And I to him: “Your words of truth have humbled my heart; they have reduced my swollen pride. But who is he you spoke about just now?”
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“That’s Provenzan Salvani, ” he replied, “and he is here because presumptuously he sought to gain control of all Siena.
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So he crawls on, and has crawled since he died, knowing no rest. And such coin is paid here by those who were presumptuous down there. ”
126
And I: “If it is true that any soul who has delayed repentance till the last must wait down there before he can ascend,
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the same amount of time he lived on earth (unless he’s helped by efficacious prayer)— then how has he arrived so fast up here?”
132
He said: “While at the apex of his glory, in Siena’s marketplace, of his free will, putting aside all shame, he took his stand,
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109. In line 121 this soul “crawling along” is identified as Provenzan Salvani (ca. 1220-1269), Ghibelline chief of Siena. Provenzan’s sins are an example of pride in temporal power.
and there, to ransom from his suffering a friend who was immured in Charles’s jail, he brought himself to do what chilled his veins!
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(I say no more. My words, I know, are vague, but your own neighbors not too long from now will help you to interpret what I’ve said.)
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It was this deed of his that sped him here. ”
CANTO XII
AS THEY LEAVE the souls of the Proud, Virgil calls the Pilgrim’s attention to a series of carvings in the bed of rock beneath their feet. These are the examples of the vice of Pride, of the haughty who have been brought low. Depicted in the carvings are Satan, the giant Briareus, Nimrod, Niobe, Saul, Arachne, Rehoboam, the slaying of Eriphyle by her son Alcmeon, Sennacherib’s murder by his sons, the slaughter of Cyrus by Tomyris, the destruction of Holofernes and the rout of the Assyrians, and finally the fall of Troy. As they continue circling the ledge, Virgil admonishes the Pilgrim to lift his head in anticipation of the angel of Humility. With a brush of his wings, the angel removes the first P from the Pilgrim’s forehead, and, as the two poets make their way through the pass to the next terrace, they hear a sweetly resounding song —the beatitude “Blessed are the Poor in Spirit. ” The Pilgrim now feels himself to be lighter, since one of the P’s has been removed, and is able to climb with considerably less effort.
Like oxen keeping step beneath their yoke, we moved along, that burdened soul and I, as long as my kind teacher would allow;
3
137. The jailer is probably Charles of Anjou.
138. This line is a most indirect way of saying “he forced himself to beg in the public square. ”
2. The soul is that of Oderisi.
but when he said: “Now leave hi
m and move on, for each one here must drive his boat ahead with sail and oar, and all the might he has, ”
6
I stood up straight to walk the way man should, but, though my body was erect, my thoughts were bowed and shrunken to humility.
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Now I was moving, happily following the footsteps of my master, both of us showing how light of foot we had become,
12
when, “Now look down, ” he said. “You will be pleased, and it will make your journey easier, to see this bed of stone beneath your feet. ”
15
As tombs set in a church floor often bear carved indications of the dead man’s life, in preservation of his memory
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(pierced by such recollection of the dead, a man is very often brought to tears—though only those with piety are moved):
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just so, I saw—but far more true to life, being divinely wrought—stone carvings there covering the path that juts out from the mount.
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I saw, on one side, him who was supposed to be the noblest creature of creation, plunge swift as lightning from the height of Heaven.
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I saw Briareus on the other side, pierced through by the celestial thunderbolt, heavy upon the ground, frozen in death.
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13-15. The examples illustrating the vice of Pride are cut into the floor: thus they must be viewed with head bent low, in humility.
28. Briareus was one of the giants (Inferno XXXI, 98) who challenged Jupiter; he was slain by a thunderbolt and buried beneath Mount Etna.
I saw Thymbraeus, saw Pallas and Mars still armed, close to their father, looking down at severed, scattered members of the giants.
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I saw the mighty Nimrod by his tower, standing there stunned and gazing at the men who shared at Shinar his bold fantasy.
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O Niobe, I saw your grieving eyes: they wept from your carved image on the road, between your seven and seven children slain.
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O Saul, transfixed by your own sword, how dead you seemed to lie on Mount Gilboa’s plain—which since that time has known no rain or dew.