Lines 22-24 describe the first stage. The apprehensive faculty (the senses plus the intellect) observes that which really is (any object that has real existence) and extracts from it a form (not the thing, but what the mind conceives the thing to be). This form is registered upon the soul.
Lines 25-27 describe the second stage. If the soul is drawn to that form, it yields to it with a natural tie of love. It is in this way that the soul has contact with creation.
Lines 28-33 describe the third stage. Just as fire is so conceived and made by Nature that it naturally yearns to rise “up there” (i.e., to the Sphere of Fire) so the soul, by its very nature (its natural disposition to love) yearns for that which attracts it.
37-39. love’s substance: Dante uses the philosophical term matera, i.e., matter, which may be taken to mean either “the thing loved” (which will always appear as a good to one who loves it), or “the natural substance of love,” i.e., the soul’s naturally created aptitude to love.
The Epicureans, according to Dante, err in not seeing that appearances may beguile the soul into loving a bad object (the Epicureans, of course would reply that nothing that gives pleasure can be bad) and thus, that a force that is good in its potential may be exercised in such a way as to be evil in its action.
43-45. I have taken liberties here for the sake of clarity. The passage literally rendered would read: “If love is offered to us from outside, and the soul does not go with another foot (i.e., has no other way of choosing its course), then whether it goes rightly or wrongly is not a matter of its own merit.”
49. substantial form: A scholastic term for “the essence of a thing.” The substantial form of man is his soul, which is distinct from matter, yet united with it. Each substantial form has its specific tendencies, characteristics, and capacities which are visible only in its working and effects. Before what the Catholic Church declares to be the age of reason (approximately age seven) these powers are simply innate and neutral. Thereafter, there develops within the soul a capacity to reason, and in order to gather the soul into a harmonious unit, innate reason must decide what may and what may not pass the threshold of the soul and be gathered into its love. With reason as the principle of conduct, the soul is then responsible for its actions.
67. those masters: Aristotle and Plato. Both based their moral philosophy upon free will.
75. if she should speak of it: Beatrice discusses Free Will in the Sphere of the Moon, Paradiso, V, 19 ff.
76-81. Note that Dante does not say that the Moon rose at midnight, but only that it was near midnight and that the Moon was late-risen.
He then appends an astronomical figure too complicated to explain here in detail. In brief, the moon in its monthly retrograde motion is in the sign of the zodiac (commentators dispute whether Dante means Scorpio or Sagittarius) in which the Sun is when a Roman sees it set in a position between Sardinia and Corsica.
82. Piètola: A village near Mantua. One legend—and Dante obviously follows it—has it that Virgil was born in Piètola rather than in Mantua proper. Thus Piètola outshines all other Mantuan towns because it was Virgil’s birthplace.
83-84. had discharged fully: The burden of all the doubts Dante has laid upon him.
87. was rambling drowsily: Mental laxness seems to be contagious on this Cornice. Dante, satisfied with what he has learned, does not answer with his usual eagerness, but lets his mind wander off. The appearance of the band of the Slothful, however, awakens him instantly, their presence and the nature of their sin reproaching Dante for his self-indulgence.
91-93. Ismenus and Asopus: Boetian rivers. The ancient Thebans ran on their banks at night invoking the aid of Bacchus when they needed rain for their vines. Dante makes a careful point in his phrasing: the Thebans exerted themselves for no more than such a pagan and earthly deity as Bacchus could give, but here the sinners strain for the Supreme Good.
96. bent like scythes: Bent so in the speed of their race.
97-102. THE WHIP OF SLOTH: The examples here are shouted by two of the sinners who run before the others. The first example of zeal (spiritual) is Mary’s haste, after the Annunciation, to go visit Elizabeth in the hill country of Juda (Luke, i. 39). The second (temporal) is Caesar’s diligence in the conquest of Ilerda (the modern Spanish town of Lérida). He laid siege to Marseilles, left an army there under Brutus, and pushed by forced marches to take Ilerda.
Since all zeal must be either spiritual or temporal, two examples are enough to cover all possible categories.
109. this man lives—truly: Virgil is announcing the news that has amazed all other souls in Purgatory, but these souls are so intent on pursuing their purification that they pay no attention. Their attention is focused on the Supreme Good, and they shun the distraction of lesser things.
111. the nearer way: There is one ascent from each Cornice. Virgil’s object on each ledge is to learn the short rather than the long way round the circle to it. As it has been on every other ledge, the nearer way is to the right.
118. San Zeno: There are three churches of San Zeno in Verona, one of which has a monastery attached. The speaker has not been positively identified, but the Abbot of San Zeno through most of Barbarossa’s reign was Gherardo II, who died in 1187.
119. Frederick Barbarossa: Frederick Redbeard. Frederick I, Emperor from 1152-1190. Dante calls him “good” because he pursued the good of the Empire. Frederick quarreled with Pope Alexander III and was excommunicated by him. Frederick then warred on the Pope’s adherents in Lombardy. He took Milan in 1163, pulled down its walls, burned the city, ploughed the ruins, and sowed the ground with salt that nothing might grow there. After other bloody successes, his fortunes turned, and he had to kneel to Alexander for pardon. He drowned while crusading in the Holy Land.
121-126. another with one foot now in the grave: Alberto della Scala, Lord of Verona, who died in September of 1301. Thus, in 1300 he already had one foot in the grave. He had three natural sons, among them the famous Can Grande della Scala, who was Dante’s host and protector in exile. Another was Giuseppe, and it was this son Alberto forced upon the monks as Abbot of San Zeno, a post he held from 1292 to 1313. The speaker, as former abbot, is especially indignant that an unworthy man should hold so high an office. Giuseppe was triply disqualified, being mentally incapable, physically deformed, and a bastard. Except by special dispensation, the Catholic Church does not grant ordination to the illegitimate; the candidate for ordination must of course be mentally qualified, and he must be free of physical deformities that would interfere with the performance of his duties. (A priest with a mutilated hand, for example, might not be able to celebrate the mass properly. Nor could a deaf priest hear confessions.)
127. left us so far behind: The sinner never slackened pace as he spoke.
129. but I was pleased to keep this much in mind: Dante seems to relish his chance to fire a shot at Alberto della Scala, certainly not as a personal attack on the father of his great protector, but generally against all the temporal lords of Italy who used their power to corrupt the Church by imposing their will and politics upon its offices.
131-138. THE REIN OF SLOTH. As two of the sinners ran ahead to shout the examples of the Whip, so two more run behind the train shouting the examples that constitute the Rein.
As usual, the first example of the destruction of the laggard is from sacred history. It reminds the sinners that though the Lord delivered Israel from Egyptian bondage, opening the Red Sea for their passage, the people still muttered and would not follow Moses (i.e., would not diligently pursue good); and that, therefore, the Lord doomed them to die in the wilderness. Of all Israel that crossed the Red Sea, only Joshua and Caleb reached the Promised Land of Jordan’s waters. (Numbers, xiv, 26-34; Exodus, xiv, 10-20; Deuteronomy, i, 26-36.)
The second example, from secular history, reminds the sinners of those followers of Aeneas who chose to live at ease in Sicily rather than follow him to the great end that had been promised. Thus they did not share i
n the glory of founding Rome.
Note that both incidents provide a parable of a promised joy (Heaven) lost by lack of zeal in following the clearly indicated road.
Canto XIX
THE FOURTH CORNICE
The Slothful
Dante’s Dream of Sirena
THE ASCENT
THE FIFTH CORNICE
The Angel of Zeal
The Hoarders and Wasters (The Avaricious)
Just before morning (when the truth is dreamed) Dante dreams of THE SIREN that lures the souls of men to incontinent worldliness. Hideous in her true form, the Siren grows irresistible in men’s eyes as they look upon her. A HEAVENLY LADY races in upon the dream and calls to Virgil who, thus summoned, strips the Siren, exposing her filthy body. Such a stench rises from her, so exposed, that Dante wakens shuddering, to find Virgil calling him to resume the journey.
THE ANGEL OF ZEAL shows them the passage, and when his wings have fanned the Poets, Dante casts off his depression and lethargy, and rushes up the remaining length of the passage.
Arrived at THE FIFTH CORNICE, Virgil inquires the way of one of the souls of THE HOARDERS AND WASTERS, who lie motionless and outstretched, bound hand and foot, with their faces in the dust.
The soul of POPE ADRIAN V replies that, if they have incurred no guilt by Hoarding or Wasting, they may pass on to the right. Dante kneels in reverence to Adrian and is scolded for doing so. Adrian then dismisses Dante in order to resume his purification. Adrian’s last request is that his niece, ALAGIA, be asked to pray for his soul.
At the hour when the heat of the day is overcome
by Earth, or at times by Saturn, and can no longer
temper the cold of the moon; when on the dome
of the eastern sky the geomancers sight
Fortuna Major rising on a course
on which, and soon, it will be drowned in light;
there came to me in a dream a stuttering crone,
squint-eyed, clubfooted, both her hands deformed,
and her complexion like a whitewashed stone.
I stared at her; and just as the new sun
breathes life to night-chilled limbs, just so my look
began to free her tongue, and one by one
drew straight all her deformities, and warmed
her dead face, till it bloomed as love would wish it
for its delight. When she was thus transformed,
her tongue thus loosened, she began to sing
in such a voice that only with great pain
could I have turned from her soliciting.
“I am,” she sang, “Sirena. I am she
whose voice is honeyed with such sweet enticements
it trances sailing men far out to sea.
I turned Ulysses from his wanderer’s way
with my charmed song, and few indeed who taste
how well I satisfy would think to stray.”
Her mouth had not yet shut when at my side
appeared a saintly lady, poised and eager
to heap confusion on the Siren’s pride.
“O Virgil, Virgil! Who,” she cried, “is this?”
Roused by her indignation, Virgil came:
his eyes did not once leave that soul of bliss.
He seized the witch, and with one rip laid bare
all of her front, her loins and her foul belly:
I woke sick with the stench that rose from there.
I turned then, and my Virgil said to me:
“I have called at least three times now. Rise and come
and let us find your entrance.” Willingly
I rose to my feet. Already the high day
lit all the circles of the holy mountain.
The sun was at our backs as we took our way.
I followed in his steps, my brow as drawn
as is a man’s so bowed with thought he bends
like half an arch of a bridge. And moving on,
I heard the words: “Come. This is where you climb,”
pronounced in such a soft and loving voice
as is not heard here in our mortal time.
With swanlike wings outspread, he who had spoken
summoned us up between the walls of rock.
He fanned us with his shining pinions then,
affirming over us as we went by
“blessed are they that mourn”—for they shall have
their consolation given them on high.
“What ails you?” said my Guide. “What heavy mood
makes you stare at the ground?” (We were by then
above the point at which the Angel stood.)
And I: “An apparition clouds my spirit,
a vision from a dream so strange and dreadful
I cannot seem to leave off thinking of it.”
“Did you see that ageless witch,” he said, “for whom
—and for no other—those above us weep?
And did you see how men escape her doom?
Let it teach your heels to scorn the earth, your eyes
to turn to the high lure the Eternal King
spins with his mighty spheres across the skies.”
As falcons stare at their feet until they hear
the wished-for call, then leap with wings outspread
in eagerness for the meat that waits them there;
so did I move: filled with desire, I ran
up the remaining length of the rock passage
to the point at which the next great Round began.
When I stood on the fifth ledge and looked around,
I saw a weeping people everywhere
lying outstretched and face-down on the ground.
“My soul cleaves to the dust,” I heard them cry
over and over as we stood among them;
and every word was swallowed by a sigh.
“O Chosen of God, spirits whose mournful rites
both Hope and Justice make less hard to bear,
show us the passage to the further heights.”
“If you have not been sentenced to lie prone
in the bitter dust, and seek the nearest way,
keep the rim to your right as you go on.”
So spoke the Poet, and so a voice replied
from the ground in front of us. I took good note
of what its way of speaking did not hide.
I turned my eyes to Virgil then, and he
gave me a happy sign of his permission
to do what my eyes asked. Being thus free
to act according to my own intention,
I moved ahead and stood above that soul
whose speaking had attracted my attention,
saying: “O Soul in whom these tears prepare
that without which no soul can turn to God,
put off a while, I beg, your greater care,
to tell me who you were, why you lie prone,
and if there is some way that I may serve you
in the world I left while still in flesh and bone.”
“Why Heaven makes us turn our backs shall be
made known to you,” the spirit said, “but first
scias quod ego fui successor Petri.
Between Sestri and Chiaveri, flowing on
through a fair land, there is a pleasant river
from which the title of my line is drawn.
A single month, a month and some few days
I came to know on my own weary body
how heavily the Papal Mantle weighs
upon the wearer who would take good care
to keep it from the mire; compared to that
all other burdens are as light as air.
My conversion, alas, came late; for only when
I had been chosen Pastor of Holy Rome
did I see the falseness in the lives of men.
I saw no heart’s rest there, nor ease from strife,
nor any height the flesh-bound soul might climb,
and so I came to love this other life.
My soul was lost to God until that moment,
and wholly given over to avarice;
such was my sin, such is my punishment.
The nature of avarice is here made plain
in the nature of its penalty; there is not
a harsher forfeit paid on the whole mountain.
We would not raise our eyes to the shining spheres
but kept them turned to mundane things: so Justice
bends them to earth here in this place of tears.
As Avarice, there, quenched all our souls’ delight
in the good without which all our works are lost,
so, here, the hand of Justice clamps us tight.
Taken and bound here hand and foot, we lie
outstretched and motionless; and here we stay
at the just pleasure of the Father on High.”
I had knelt to him. Now I spoke once more.
That spirit sensed at once my voice was nearer
and guessed my reverence. “Why do you lower