Dante's Divine Comedy: Purgatorio
Canto X
As the gate shuts behind them, the two poets struggle up a very steep, narrow cleft to the First Cornice, where the sin of Pride is being redeemed. The ledge wraps around the base of the mountain and seems deserted at first but for reliefs showing examples of great Humility (the Whip of Pride) carved into the rock face, such as the Virgin Mary, King David and the Emperor Trajan. The penitent Proud approach, bent double under the weight of enormous boulders. Just as these individuals elevated themselves above others in life, they must now submit to being humble.
When we had crossed the threshold of the door
Which the perverted love of souls disuses,
Because it makes the crooked way seem straight,
Re-echoing I heard it closed again;
And if I had turned back mine eyes upon it,
What for my failing had been fit excuse?
We mounted upward through a rifted rock,
Which undulated to this side and that,
Even as a wave receding and advancing.[1]
"Here it behoves us use a little art,"
Began my Leader, "to adapt ourselves
Now here, now there, to the receding side."
And this our footsteps so infrequent made,
That sooner had the moon's decreasing disk
Regained its bed to sink again to rest,
Than we were forth from out that needle's eye;
But when we free and in the open were,
There where the mountain backward piles itself,
I wearied out, and both of us uncertain
About our way, we stopped upon a plain
More desolate than roads across the deserts.
From where its margin borders on the void,
To foot of the high bank that ever rises,
A human body three times told would measure;
And far as eye of mine could wing its flight,
Now on the left, and on the right flank now,
The same this cornice did appear to me.[2]
Thereon our feet had not been moved as yet,
When I perceived the embankment round about,
Which all right of ascent had interdicted,
To be of marble white, and so adorned
With sculptures, that not only Polycletus,
But Nature's self, had there been put to shame.[3]
The Angel, who came down to Earth with tidings
Of peace, that had been wept for many a year,
And opened Heaven from its long interdict,
In front of us appeared so truthfully
There sculptured in a gracious attitude,
He did not seem an image that is silent.
One would have sworn that he was saying, "Ave;"
For she was there in effigy portrayed
Who turned the key to ope the exalted love,
And in her mien this language had impressed,
"Ecce ancilla Dei," as distinctly
As any figure stamps itself in wax.[4]
"Keep not thy mind upon one place alone,"
The gentle Master said, who had me standing
Upon that side where people have their hearts;
Whereat I moved mine eyes, and I beheld
In rear of Mary, and upon that side
Where he was standing who conducted me,
Another story on the rock imposed;
Wherefore I passed Virgilius and drew near,
So that before mine eyes it might be set.
There sculptured in the self-same marble were
The cart and oxen, drawing the holy ark,
Wherefore one dreads an office not appointed.[5]
People appeared in front, and all of them
In seven choirs divided, of two senses
Made one say "No," the other, "Yes, they sing."
Likewise unto the smoke of the frankincense,
Which there was imaged forth, the eyes and nose
Were in the yes and no discordant made.
Preceded there the vessel benedight,
Dancing with girded loins, the humble Psalmist,
And more and less than King was he in this.
Opposite, represented at the window
Of a great palace, Michal looked upon him,
Even as a woman scornful and afflicted.[6]
I moved my feet from where I had been standing,
To examine near at hand another story,
Which after Michal glimmered white upon me.
There the high glory of the Roman Prince
Was chronicled, whose great beneficence
Moved Gregory to his great victory;[7]
Tis of the Emperor Trajan I am speaking;
And a poor widow at his bridle stood,
In attitude of weeping and of grief.[8]
Around about him seemed it thronged and full
Of cavaliers, and the eagles in the gold
Above them visibly in the wind were moving.
The wretched woman in the midst of these
Seemed to be saying: "Give me vengeance, Lord,
For my dead son, for whom my heart is breaking."
And he to answer her: "Now wait until
I shall return." And she: "My Lord," like one
In whom grief is impatient, "shouldst thou not
Return?" And he: "Who shall be where I am
Will give it thee." And she: "Good deed of others
What boots it thee, if thou neglect thine own?"
Whence he: "Now comfort thee, for it behoves me
That I discharge my duty ere I move;
Justice so wills, and pity doth retain me."
He who on no new thing has ever looked
Was the creator of this visible language,
Novel to us, for here it is not found.
While I delighted me in contemplating
The images of such humility,
And dear to look on for their Maker's sake,
"Behold, upon this side, but rare they make
Their steps," the Poet murmured, "many people;
These will direct us to the lofty stairs."
Mine eyes, that in beholding were intent
To see new things, of which they curious are,
In turning round towards him were not slow.
But still I wish not, Reader, thou shouldst swerve
From thy good purposes, because thou hearest
How God ordaineth that the debt be paid;
Attend not to the fashion of the torment,
Think of what follows; think that at the worst
It cannot reach beyond the mighty sentence.
"Master," began I, "that which I behold
Moving towards us seems to me not persons,
And what I know not, so in sight I waver."
And he to me: "The grievous quality
Of this their torment bows them so to Earth,
That my own eyes at first contended with it;
But look there fixedly, and disentangle
By sight what cometh underneath those stones;
Already canst thou see how each is stricken."
O ye proud Christians! wretched, weary ones!
Who, in the vision of the mind infirm
Confidence have in your backsliding steps,
Do ye not comprehend that we are worms,
Born to bring forth the angelic butterfly
That flieth unto judgment without screen?[9]
Why floats aloft your spirit high in air?
Like are ye unto insects undeveloped,
Even as the worm in whom formation fails!
As to sustain a ceiling or a roof,
In place of corbel, oftentimes a figure
Is seen to join its knees unto its breast,[10]
Which makes of the unreal real anguish
Arise in him who sees it, fashioned thus
Beheld I those, when I had ta'en good heed.
True is it, they were more or less bent down,
According as they more or less were laden;
And he who had most patience in his looks
Weeping did seem to say, "I can no more!"
Illustrations of Purgatorio
The concubine of old Tithonus now / Gleamed white upon the eastern balcony, Purg. IX, lines 1-2
Terrible as the lightning he descended, / And snatched me upward even to the fire. Purg, IX, lines 29-30
I saw him seated on the highest stair, / Such in the face that I endured it not. / And in his hand he had a naked sword, Purg. IX, lines 80-82
Footnotes
1. Before we explore each of these spectacular carvings, a word or two of reminder about the Mountain’s structure or “architecture.” There are three main sections to this Mountain. We have just entered the largest and mid-section of the three. Below us was Ant e-Purgatory, a place for sinners who, in various ways and for various reasons, delayed their repentance and conversion while they were alive, and so must wait for certain designated periods of time before they can enter Purgatory proper where we have just a rrived. Purgatory proper is comprised of seven concentric and successively smaller terraces where sinners characterized most by one of the Seven Deadly Sins are purged and restored. Starting with where we are now, these terraces coincide with the sins of Pr ide, Envy, Anger, Sloth, Avarice/Prodigality, Gluttony, and Lust. The third and top level of the Mountain is the Earthly Paradise (Garden of Eden).
2. The narrowness here also calls up images from the Gospels–the narrow gate and the eye of the needle. In Matthew’s Gospel (7:13), Jesus warns his followers: “Enter in by the narrow gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, an d many are those who enter in by it.” The narrow gate is a reference to the discipline of a life of virtue and the difficulties in navigating a winding path through the allurement of things that seem good but aren’t. Opposite this we have the broad and wide -open dissolution of a life of vice. Thus Virgil’s caution and their decision to take smaller (deliberate) steps.
In the same Gospel (19:24), Jesus tells his disciples that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. The eye of the needle, of course, was a clever defense mechanism in city walls where openings were so low that a rider would have to dismount before entering.
Finally, as the two pilgrims emerge from their difficult climb, Dante gives us a time reference. The waning moon has just set. So, what time is it? On the previous Thursday night when Dante entered the dark forest the moon was full. It has since been on the wane these last four or five days. If it is now Monday, the waning moon would rise an hour or so before midnight and would now be setting about 12 hours later–thus making it about 10 o’clock in the morning.
3. But, to add to the fact that the Mountain of Purgatory is no ordinary mountain, we discover–along with Dante – that the face of the mountain here is of pure white marble, smooth and flawless. More than that, upon this marble are carved images of such perfec tion that, after eliminating other “perfect” artists, one is left with the conclusion that only God could have created them!
For Dante and many of his Medieval contemporaries (and down to our own time), Polycletus, a fifth-century BC Athenian, was considered to be the finest sculptor of classical Greece. While, unfortunately, none of his work survives, Dante would have known of h im through his reading of Aristotle and Cicero, among others.
4. Lain, "Ecce ancilla Dei", "Behold, the handmaid of God"
5. Here we have Dante’s description of the second of the three “living” carvings on the white marble mountain-face. But first, he gives us a sense of direction which helps us get our bearings on this first terrace. He has been standing close to Virgil’s left s ide as he gazed at the carving of the Annunciation. After a certain period of time, Virgil, seeing how much Dante enjoyed what he saw, suggested that he look at the other carvings too. So Dante, moving to his right, passes in front of Virgil to observe the next scene with King David and the Ark of the Covenant. By doing this, Dante suggests that, having arrived at the first terrace and taken stock of what was there, he next saw that the mountain-face was of pure white marble with life-like carvings on it. And , looking more intently, the first of these carvings is of the Annunciation, which must have been right in front of them or, perhaps, just slightly to their right. Dante was standing to Virgil’s left when he took in the scene in the first carving. He now mo ves to the right, in front of Virgil, to see the second carving, which tells us that the three carvings are moving to the right: the Annunciation, David and the Ark and, finally, the Emperor Trajan. As we will continue to observe as we climb the mountain, m ovement to the right is, in fact, the right way to go. So, the carvings are a kind of arrow pointing in the “right” direction.
6. This scene is recounted in chapter 6 of the Second Book of Samuel. (See the text at the end of this canto.) King David was immensely popular, and after defeating the Philistines, his bringing the Ark of the Covenant into Jerusalem was the great ritual act t hat united Israel’s northern and southern tribes into one nation with David as their king. Dante obviously chose this particular scene because in his Convivio (IV:5) he links the birth of David with the founding of Rome by Aeneas. Jesus, of course, and his mother, Mary, were of the family line of David. This connects the first and second carvings. David and Trajan were both rulers, and this connects the third carving to the first two.
While the Ark was being transported to Jerusalem, the cart it was in was guided by two men, Uzzah and Ahio. As it happened, the oxen pulling the cart apparently slipped at a certain point and the cart looked as though it might fall over. To steady the load, Uzzah pushed against the Ark to keep it steady. Unfortunately, it was a severe blasphemy for anyone to touch the Ark because it represented the visible presence of God among the people. Uzzah was immediately struck dead! Thus Dante’s caution “to keep one’s distance from holy things.”
And yet, during his life, Dante did not hesitate to castigate the Church hierarchy of his time for the shameful abuses of their power. In one of his Epistles (XI, 9), he includes what must have been a barbed retort at his calling out the bishops and cardina ls for their wrongdoings: “Perchance in indignant rebuke you will ask: ‘And who is this man who, not fearing the sudden punishment of Uzzah, sets himself up to protect the Ark, tottering though it be?’ Verily I am one of the least of the sheep of the pastur e of Jesus Christ; verily I abuse no pastoral authority, seeing that I possess no riches. By the grace, therefore, not of riches, but of God, I am what I am, and the zeal of His house hath eaten me up.”
As with the previous carving, Dante’s senses are challenged by the divine perfection of the artwork. He sees the choirs, and though his ears tell him differently, he knows that he hears their singing. Likewise with the smoke of the incense. He sees it depic ted, but he can also smell it.
At the head of the procession was David who, though he was King, humbly danced for joy, “both more and less like the king he was”–-to the embarrassment and scorn of his unhappy (prideful) wife. Hollander, in his commentary here, tells us that “Dante, too, i s the ‘humble psalmist,’ David’s modern counterpart.” He then quotes the 19th century Dante scholar, Niccolò Tommaseo: “Tommaseo long ago (1837) dealt with this scene as a metaphor for great Dante’s low vernacular poetry performed beneath the scornful gaze of pedantry: ‘But Dante is more than poet in certain respects, because he does not fear to appear less than poet and dances with his robe hitched up; but princess Michal—I might call her ‘pedantry’–-sniffs from the window.’” Quoting from the prayer of the Virgin Mary (Luke 1:51f), note here a connection that binds all three carvings together” “… he has scattered the proud in their conceit. He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly” (Luke 1:51f).
7. Trajan was emperor from 98-117 AD and was greatly admired by Pope St. Gregory the Great (Pope from 590-604), who prayed that he might be returned to life so that he could be baptized as a Christian and saved. This was widely believed in Dante’s time and eve n lent weight to by none other than St. Thomas Aquinas.
8. Here is another wonderful story of humility and integrity set in the midst of a scene of great pomp and power. The emperor rides out of Rome, closely surrounded by his generals on their war horses in full array with their eagle standards and pennants afloat in the wind. All of this is real to Dante and he intends for us to experience it as he did. Then, into this grand spectacle, comes a grieving widow who, obviously dwarfed by the horses and their riders, courageously grabs the bridle of the emperor’s horse and stops him to make her request. Note in all three stories here the contrasts between the “high” and the “low.” Dante is convinced that he is right there in the midst of this tumult listening attentively to the widow’s pleas and the emperor’s replies, and he shows us how her persistence gradually brings the emperor to a moment of humble conversion which his power cannot overcome. His humility and the integrity that flows from it finally allows justice to be done. Ronald Martinez writes in his commentary her e: “The emperor’s humility is expressed by his submitting to justice and duty, as well as by his compassion for the importunate widow. The representative of God’s power in the political realm, Trajan embodies the two principles of God’s dealings with man, j ustice and mercy.”
9. The key insight here is found in his comparison between the worm and the heavenly butterfly. As sinful humans, we are like ugly worms. Our vision of what is true and good is distorted and we allow ourselves to be led away from God. And so we are like those whose good intentions never see the light of day. But consider, Dante urges us, there is more than meets the eye here. Within each of us is the God-given potential to become that heavenly butterfly, which is our destiny. Yet he deflates this image lest our pride get the better of us and allows us to think we are much greater than we are. With the virtue of humility very much in his mind, the Poet reminds us that we are not perfect–-yet. The more we turn toward God in our lives, he implies, the more the light of that “Sun” effects our transformation.
The writings of St. Augustine were a great resource for Dante. One sees the thinking of this great Saint here: “What is more excellent than an angel among created things? What is lower than a worm? He who made the angel made the worm also; but the angel is fit for heaven, the worm for earth. He who created also arranged. If He had placed the worm in heaven, you might have found fault; if He had willed that angels should spring from decaying flesh, you might have found fault: and yet God almost does this, and He is not to be found fault with. For all men born of flesh, what are they but worms? And of these worms God makes angels” (Tractate 1 on John 1:1-5).
10. Bringing this canto to a close, and still standing before the third of the great carvings on the marble wall of the mountain, Dante once again brings to our attention how a work of art, though is not “real,” can still move us powerfully. Seeing the heavily burdened souls so terribly bent under the weight of the stones they carry, he is reminded of corbels, human shapes that sometimes take the place of columns holding up the roofs of classical buildings, or squeezed between the frieze and the pediment. He feel s the punishment of the souls here so deeply that even those whose burdens are light seem to be groaning terribly.
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