Dante's Purgatorio: Canto III
Discourse on the Limits of Reason. The Foot of the Mountain. Those who died in Contumacy of Holy Church. Manfredi.
INASMUCH as the instantaneous flight
Had scattered them asunder o'er the plain,
Turned to the mountain whither reason spurs us,
I pressed me close unto my faithful comrade,
And how without him had I kept my course? 5
Who would have led me up along the mountain?
He seemed to me within himself remorseful;
O noble conscience, and without a stain,
How sharp a sting is trivial fault to thee!
After his feet had laid aside the haste 10
Which mars the dignity of every act,
My mind, that hitherto had been restrained,
Let loose its faculties as if delighted,
And I my sight directed to the hill
That highest tow'rds the heaven uplifts itself. 15
The sun, that in our rear was flaming red,
Was broken in front of me into the figure
Which had in me the stoppage of its rays;
Unto one side I turned me, with the fear
Of being left alone, when I beheld 20
Only in front of me the ground obscured.
"Why dost thou still mistrust?" my Comforter
Began to say to me turned wholly round;
"Dost thou not think me with thee, and that I guide thee?
'T is evening there already where is buried 25
The body within which I cast a shadow;
'T is from Brundusium ta'en, and Naples has it.
Now if in front of me no shadow fall,
Marvel not at it more than at the heavens,
Because one ray impedeth not another. 30
To suffer torments, both of cold and heat,
Bodies like this that Power provides, which wills
That how it works be not unveiled to us.
Insane is he who hopeth that our reason
Can traverse the illimitable way, 35
Which the one Substance in three Persons follows!
Mortals, remain contented at the Quia;
For if ye had been able to see all,
No need there were for Mary to give birth;
And ye have seen desiring without fruit, 40
Those whose desire would have been quieted,
Which evermore is given them for a grief.
I speak of Aristotle and of Plato,
And many others";—and here bowed his head,
And more he said not, and remained disturbed. 45
We came meanwhile unto the mountain's foot;
There so precipitate we found the rock,
That nimble legs would there have been in vain.
'Twixt Lerici and Turbìa, the most desert,
The most secluded pathway is a stair 50
Easy and open, if compared with that.
"Who knoweth now upon which hand the hill
Slopes down," my Master said, his footsteps staying,
"So that who goeth without wings may mount?"
And while he held his eyes upon the ground 55
Examining the nature of the path,
And I was looking up around the rock,
On the left hand appeared to me a throng
Of souls, that moved their feet in our direction,
And did not seem to move, they came so slowly. 60
"Lift up thine eyes," I to the Master said;
"Behold, on this side, who will give us counsel,
If thou of thine own self can have it not."
Then he looked at me, and with frank expression
Replied: "Let us go there, for they come slowly, 65
And thou be steadfast in thy hope, sweet son."
Still was that people as far off from us,
After a thousand steps of ours I say,
As a good thrower with his hand would reach,
When they all crowded unto the hard masses 70
Of the high bank, and motionless stood and close,
As he stands still to look who goes in doubt.
"O happy dead! O spirits elect already!"
Virgilius made beginning, "by that peace
Which I believe is waiting for you all, 75
Tell us upon what side the mountain slopes,
So that the going up be possible,
For to lose time irks him most who most knows."
As sheep come issuing forth from out the fold
By ones and twos and threes, and the others stand 80
Timidly, holding down their eyes and nostrils,
And what the foremost does the others do,
Huddling themselves against her, if she stop,
Simple and quiet and the wherefore know not;
So moving to approach us thereupon 85
I saw the leader of that fortunate flock,
Modest in face and dignified in gait.
As soon as those in the advance saw broken
The light upon the ground at my right side,
So that from me the shadow reached the rock, 90
They stopped, and backward drew themselves somewhat;
And all the others, who came after them,
Not knowing why nor wherefore, did the same.
"Without your asking, I confess to you
This is a human body which you see, 95
Whereby the sunshine on the ground is cleft.
Marvel ye not thereat, but be persuaded
That not without a power which comes from Heaven
Doth he endeavor to surmount this wall."
The Master thus; and said those worthy people: 100
"Return ye then, and enter in before us,"
Making a signal with the back o' the hand.
And one of them began: "Whoe'er thou art,
Thus going turn thine eyes, consider well
If e'er thou saw me in the other world." 105
I turned me tow'rds him, and looked at him closely;
Blond was he, beautiful, and of noble aspect,
But one of his eyebrows had a blow divided.
When with humility I had disclaimed
E'er having seen him, "Now behold!" he said, 110
And showed me high upon his breast a wound.
Then said he with a smile: "I am Manfredi,
The grandson of the Emperess Costanza;
Therefore, when thou returnest, I beseech thee
Go to my daughter beautiful, the mother 115
Of Sicily's honor and of Aragon's,
And the truth tell her, if aught else be told.
After I had my body lacerated
By these two mortal stabs, I gave myself
Weeping to Him, who willingly doth pardon. 120
Horrible my iniquities had been;
But Infinite Goodness hath such ample arms,
That it receives whatever turns to it.
Had but Cosenza's pastor, who in chase
Of me was sent by Clement at that time, 125
In God read understandingly this page,
The bones of my dead body still would be
At the bridge-head, near unto Benevento,
Under the safeguard of the heavy cairn.
Now the rain bathes and moveth them the wind, 130
Beyond the realm, almost beside the Verde,
Where he transported them with tapers quenched.
By malison of theirs is not so lost
Eternal Love, that it cannot return,
So long as hope has anything of green. 135
True is it, who in contumacy dies
Of Holy Church, though penitent at last,
Must wait upon the outside of this bank
Thirty times told the time that he has been
In his presumption, unless such decree 140
Shorter by means of righteous prayers become.
See now if thou hast power to make me happy,
By making known unto my good Costanza
How thou hast seen me, and this ban beside,
For those on earth can much advance us here." 145
NOTES
15 - 15
So in Paradiso, XXVI. 139: –
“The mount that rises highest o'er the sea.”27 - 27
The tomb of Virgil is on the promontory of Pausilippo, overlooking the Bay of Naples. The inscription upon it is:–
Mantua me genuit: Calabri rapuere: tenet nunc
Parthenope: cecini pascua, rura, duces.“The epitaph,” says Eustace, Classical Tour, I. 499, “which, though not genuine, is yet ancient, was inscribed by order of the Duke of Pescolangiano, then proprietor of the place, on a marble slab placed in the side of the rock opposite the entrance of the tomb, where it still remains.”
Forsyth, Italy, p. 378, says: “Virgil's tomb is so called, I believe, on the single authority of Donatus. Donatus places it at the right distance from Naples, but on the wrong side of the city; and even there he omits the grotto of Posilipo, which not being so deep in his time as the two last excavations have left it, must have opened precisely at his tomb. Donatus, too, gives, for Virgil's own composition, an epitaph on the cliff now rejected as a forgery. And who is this Donatus? – an obscure grammarian, or rather his counterfeit. The structure itself resembles a ruined pigeon-house, where the numerous columbaria would indicate a family-sepulchre: but who should repose in the tomb of Virgil, but Virgil alone? Visitors of every nation, kings and princes, have scratched their names on the stucco of this apocryphal ruin, but the poet's awful name seems to have deterred them from versifying here.”
37 - 37
Be satisfied with knowing that a thing is, without asking why it is. These were distinguished in scholastic language as the Demonstratio quia, and the Demonstratio propter quid.
49 - 49
Places on the mountainous seaside road from Genoa to Pisa, known as the Riviera di Levante. Of this, Mr. Ruskin, Mod. Painters, III. 243, says:–
“The similes by which he illustrates the steepness of that
ascent are all taken from the Riviera of Genoa, now
traversed by a good carriage road under the name of the
Cornice; but as this road did not exist in Dante's time, and
the steep precipices and promontories were then probably
traversed by footpaths, which, as they necessarily passed in
many places over crumbling and slippery limestone, were
doubtless not a little dangerous, and as in the manner they
commanded the bays of sea below, and lay exposed to the full
blaze of the southeastern sun, they corresponded precisely
to the situation of the path by which he ascends above the
purgatorial sea, the image could not possibly have been
taken from a better source for the fully conveying his idea
to the reader: nor, by the way, is there reason to
discredit, in this place, his powers of climbing; for,
with his usual accuracy, he has taken the angle of the path
for us, saying it was considerable more than forty-five.
Now a continuous mountain slope of forty-five degrees is
already quite unsafe either for ascent or descent, except by
zigzag paths; and a greater slope than this could not be
climbed, straightforward, but by help of crevices or jags in
the rock, and great physical exertion besides.”Mr. Norton, Travel and Study, p. I, thus describes the Riviera:
“The Var forms the geographical boundary between France and
Italy; but it is not till Nice is left behind, and the first
height of the Riviera is surmounted, that the real Italy
begins. Here the hills close round at the north, and
suddenly, as the road turns at the top of a long ascent, the
Mediterranean appears far below, washing the feet of the
mountains that form the coast, and stretching away to the
Southern horizon. The line of the shore is of extraordinary
beauty. Here an abrupt cliff rises from the sea; here bold
and broken masses of rock jut out into it; here the hills,
their gray sides terraced for vineyards, slope gently down
to the water's edge; here they stretch into little
promontories covered with orange and olive-trees.
”One of the first of these promontories is that of Capo
Sant' Ospizio. A close grove of olives half conceals the
old castle on its extreme point. With the afternoon sun
full upon it, the trees palely glimmering as their leaves
move in the light air, the sea so blue and smooth as to be
like a darker sky, and not even a ripple upon the beach,, it
seems as if this were the very home of summer and of repose.
It is remote and secluded from the stir and noise of the
world. No road is seen leading to it, and one looks down
upon the solitary castle and wonders what stories of
enchantment and romance belong to a ruin that appears as if
made for their dwelling-place. It is a scene out of that
Italy which is the home of the imagination, and which
becomes the Italy of memory.
“As the road winds down to the sea, it passes under a high
isolated peak, on which stands Esa, built as a city of
refuge against pirates and Moors. A little farther on,
'Its Roman strength Turbia showed
In ruins by the mountain road,'–
not only recalling the ancient times, when it was the
boundary city of Italy and Gaul, and when Augustus erected
his triumphal arch within it, but associated also with
Dante and the steep of Purgatory. Beneath lies Monaco,
glowing 'like a gem' on its oval rock, the sea sparkling
around it, and the long western rays of the sinking sun
lingering on its little palace, clinging to its church
belfry and its gray wall, as if loath to leave them.”In the Casa Magni, on the sea-shore near Lerici, Shelley once lived. He was returning thither from Leghorn, when he perished in a sudden storm at sea.
67 - 67
After they had gone a mile, they were still a stone's throw distant.
82 - 82
See Convito, I. 10.
112 - 112
Manfredi, king of Apulia and Sicily, was a natural son of the Emperor Frederick the Second. He was slain at the battle of Benevento, in 1265; one of the great and decisive battles of the Guelphs and Ghibellines, the Guelph or Papal forces being commanded by Charles of Anjou, and the Ghibellines or Imperialists by Manfredi.
Malispini, Storia, ch. 187, thus describes his death and burial: “Manfredi, being left with few followers, behaved like a valiant gentleman who preferred to die in battle rather than to escape with shame. And putting on his helmet, which had on it a silver eagle for a crest, this eagle fell on the saddle- bow before him; and seeing this he was greatly disturbed, and said in Latin to the barons who were near him, 'Hoc est signum Dei; for this crest I fastened on with my own hands in such a way that it could not fall.' But he was not discouraged, and took heart, and went into battle like any other baron, without the royal insignia, in order not to be recognized. But short while it lasted, for his forces were already in flight; and they were routed and Manfredi slain in the middle of the enemy; and they were driven into the town by the soldiers of King Charles, for it was now night, and they lost the city of Benevento. And many of Manfredi's barons were made prisoners, among whom were the Count Giordano, Messer Piero Asino degli Uberti, and many others, whom King Charles sent captive into Provence, and there had them put to death in prison; and he imprisoned many other Germans in different parts of the kingdom. And a few days afterwards the wife of Manfredi and his children and his sister, who were in Nocera de' Sardini in Apulia, were taken prisoners by Charles; these died in prison. And for more than three days they made search after Manfredi; for he could not be found, nor was it known if he were dead, or a prisoner, or had escaped; because he had not worn his royal robes in the battle. And afterwards he was recognized by one of his own camp-followers, from certain marks upon his person, in the middle of the battle-field; and he threw him across an ass, and came shouting, 'Who will buy Manfredi?' for which a baron of the king beat him with a cane. And the body of Manfredi being brought to King Charles, he assembled all the barons who were prisoners, and asked each one if that was Manfredi; and timidly they answered yes. Count Giordano smote himself in the face with his hands, weeping and crying, 'O my lord!' whereupon he was much commended by the French, and certain Bretons besought that he might have honorable burial. Answered the king and said, 'I would do it willingly, if he were not excommunicated'; and on that account he would not have him laid in consecrated ground, but he was buried at the foot of the bridge of Benevento, and each one of the army threw a stone upon his grave, so that a great pile was made. But afterwards, it is said, by command of the Pope, the Bishop of Cosenza took him from that grave, and sent him out of the kingdom, because it was Church land. And he was buried by the river Verde, at the confines of the kingdom and the Campagna. This battle was on a Friday, the last day of February, in the year one thousand two hundred and sixty-five.”
Villani, who in his account of the battle copies Malispini almost literally, gives in another chapter, VI. 46, the following portrait of Manfredi; but it must be remembered that Villani was a Guelph, and Manfredi a Ghibelline.
“King Manfredi had for his mother a beautiful lady of the
family of the Marquises of Lancia in Lombardy, with whom the
Emperor had an intrigue, and was beautiful in person, and
like his father and more than his father was given to
dissipation of all kinds. He was a musician and singer,
delighted in the company of buffoons and courtiers and
beautiful concubines, and was always clad in green; he was
generous and courteous, and of good demeanor, so that he was
much be-loved and gracious; but his life was wholly
epicurean, hardly caring for God or the saints, but for the
delights of the body. He was an enemy of holy Church, and
of priests and monks, confiscating churches as his father
had done; and a wealthy gentleman was he, both from the
treasure which he inherited form the Emperor, and from King
Conrad, his brother, and from his own kingdom, which was
ample and fruitful, and which, so long as he lived,
notwithstanding all the wars he had with the Church, he kept
in good condition, so that it rose greatly in wealth and
power, both by sea and by land.”This battle of Benevento is the same as that mentioned Inf. XXVIII. 16: –
“At Ceperano, where a renegade
Was each Apulian.”113 - 113
Constance, wife of the Emperor Henry the Sixth.
115 - 115
His daughter Constance, who was married to Peter of Aragon, and was the mother of Frederic of Sicily and of James of Aragon.
124 - 124
The Bishop of Cosenza and Pope Clement the Fourth.
131 - 131
The name of the river Verde reminds one of the old Spanish ballad, particularly when one recalls the fact that Manfredi had in his army a band of Saracens:–
“Rio Verde, Rio Verde,
Many a corpse is bathed in thee,
Both of Moors and eke of Christians,
Slain with swords most cruelly.”132 - 132
Those who died “in contumely of holy Church,” or under excommunication, were buried with extinguished and inverted torches.