Inferno
Canto XV
Dante follows Virgil along one of the petrified high banks of the stream which crosses the sand; and as they go, they meet a troop of those who indulged unnatural lust (the “violent against-nature”), and among them Dante recognises Brunetto Latini, famous in Florence as a philosopher and man of learning and author of the Treasure. They greet each other affectionately; Brunetto speaks warmly of Dante’s merits, and severely of the ingratitude of Florence; Dante acknowledges in tender words all he owes to Brunetto and his writings. Among Brunetto’s companions is a bishop transferred by Boniface VIII (servus servorum Dei was a style used by the Popes) from Florence to Vicenza: the first reference in the poem to the great pope whom Dante detested.
Now one of the hard banks our footing bears,
And the stream’s smoke maketh a shadowy shield
So that the fire both bank and water spares.
As ‘twixt Wissant and Bruges the Flemings build,
Dreading the tide that ever toward them pours,
Their rampart that compels the waves to yield,
And as the Paduans do by Brenta’s shores,[i]7. The “Brenta” is a stream in northeastern Italy.
Their villages and castles to make fast,
Ere Chiarentana feel the sun’s hot force,[ii]9. “Chiarentana”: a mountainous region north of the Brenta. Its melting snows swell the river.
These dykes were fashioned of like mould and cast, [10]
Albeit the master, whoever it was that wrought,
Had made them.not so lofty nor so massed.
Already we were from the wood remote
So far, that had my eyes turned back thereto
They could not have had power the place to note,
When up to us now a band of spirits drew,
Coming beside the bank; and scrutiny
Each made of us, as men are wont to do
At dusk, when a new moon is in the sky;
And at us, puckering their brows, they pried [20]
Like an old tailor at his needle’s eye.
As thus by all that company we were eyed,
One of them recognised me, and by the skirt
Caught hold of me, and “O what marvel!” cried.
Soon as he touched me, I could no more avert
Mine eyes, but on his visage scorched and sere
Fixt them, until beneath the mask of hurt
Did the remembered lineaments appear.
And to his face my hand inclining down,
I answered, “Ser Brunetto, are you here?” [30]
And he: “May it not displease thee, O my son,
If Brunetto Latini turn with thee
A little back, and let his troop go on.”
I said: “That same thing most contenteth me.
And if that I sit with you, you prefer,
So will I do, if he I am with agree.”
“O my son,” said he, “of this herd, whoe’er
One instant stops, an hundred years must lie
Helpless against the fire a hand to stir;
Therefore go on, while at thy skirts go I [40]
And then rejoin my comrades in lament,
Who as they go, their loss eternal sigh.”
I dared not from the road make the descent
To go level with him; but bowed my head
Like one who walketh inly reverent.
He began now: “What fate or fortune led
Thee down into this place, ere thy last day?
Who is it that thy steps hath piloted?”
“Above there in the clear world on my way,”
I answered him, “lost in a vale of gloom, [50]
Before my age was full, I went astray.
But yester morn I turned my back therefrom.
As I re-entered it, he came from far,[iii]53. “He came . . .”: Dante avoids mentioning Virgil by name in Hell.
And by this same path he shall guide me home.”
And he to me: “If thou follow thy star,
Thou'lt fail not glorious harbour at the end,
If in the beautiful life I did not err.
And had Fate chosen my own years to extend,
Seeing Heaven did on thee so benignly look,
I had been with thee to hearten and befriend. [60]
But that ungrateful, that malignant folk[iv]61. “That malignant folk”: the Florentines.
Who came of old down from Fiesole,[v]62. “Fiesole” is at the top of a steep hill near Florence. Catiline, driven from Rome, took refuge there with his followers. When the place was finally taken, tradition has it that the surviving inhabitants, combining with a Roman colony, founded Florence.
And still smack of the mountain and the rock,
Will for thy good deeds turn ‘thine enemy.
And there is cause; among the acid sloes
Ill fits that sweet figs fruit upon the tree.
Old fame on earth proclaims them envious,
Arrogant, blind of eye and greedy of throat:
Wipe thyself clean of all such ways as those.
Thy fortune keeps thee for such honoured note [70]
That either side will hunger in pursuit
Of thee; but far shall grass be from the goat.
Let them their own selves tear in pieces, brute
Beasts of Fiesole, and not impede
If ’mid their rankness any scion shoot
In which reviveth still the sacred seed
Of those true Romans who incorrupt remained[vi]77-78. Dante believed that his own family belonged to the old Roman stock of Florence.
When grew that nest of malice and of greed.”
“Could all of my desire have been attained,”
I answered him, “not yet from the estate [80]
Of our humanity had you been banned.
Still in my heart stays, memory’s dear inmate,
The fatherly kind image, paining now,
Of you, when in the world, early and late,
You taught me how man may eternal grow.
And whilst I breathe the air, it is most right
My grateful tongue declare all that I owe.
What of my course you tell, that do I write
And keep for a Lady with another text
For her wise comment, if I of her win sight. [90]
Of this much would I have you disperplext.
I am prepared, so conscience not upbraid,
For Fortune, whatsoe’er she purpose next.
Not new to these ears is such boding made.[vii]94-95. Let fate and men pursue their thoughtless course: this sounds like a proverbial phrase.
Therefore let Fortune turn her wheel to accord
With her own pleasure, and the boor his spade.”
Then over his right shoulder turned my Lord[viii]97. “My Lord”: Virgil.
Backward and looked at me, and spoke anon:
“He listens well who noteth well the word.”
None the less I continue speaking on [100]
With Ser Brunetto, and I ask him who
Of his companions highest note have won.
And he to me: “Of some ’tis well to know:
But of the rest ’twere better naught be said;
So much talk, this short time, we must forgo.
Know then in brief, all these were scholars bred
And clerks, and upon earth great fame they knew,
And all by the same soilure forfeited.
Priscian goeth among that sorry crew,[ix]109-110. “Priscian”: the great Latin grammarian of the sixth century. “Francesco d’Accorso”: a renowned jurist, lived in Bologna and in England, in the thirteenth century.
And Francesco d’Accorso; and didst thou crave [110]
Such scurf, thou mightest have seen and spoken to
Him who from Arno to Bacchiglion’s wave[x]112. He “who from Arno” is, is Andrea di Mozzi, a bishop removed in 1295 by Boniface VIII(see the Argument).
By the servant of God’s servants was transferred,
And there his sinfully spent nerves outgave.
I would say more, but must not be deferred
My going, and speech must end now; for I see
Smoke of new dust there from the sand upstirred.
People are coming with whom I may not be.
But let my Treasure (and I ask no more),[xi]119. My “Treasure”: Brunetto Latini’s main work.
Wherein I live still, be commended thee.” [120]
He turned, and seemed like, in the field before
Verona, one of those who run the race
For the green cloth; so seemed he running, nor[xii]123. In the annual games held in Verona in the thirteenth century the first prize in the foot-race was a green cloth.
Seemed in the loser’s but the winner’s place.