Ere thou shalt know the full weight of that art.
So to the pleasant world mayst thou return,
As thou shalt tell me, why in all their laws,
Against my kin this people is so fell?”
“The slaughter10 and great havoc,” I replied,
“That colour’d Arbia’s flood with crimson stain—
To these impute, that in our hallow’d dome
Such orisons11 ascend.” Sighing he shook
The head, then thus resum’d: “In that affray
I stood not singly, nor without just cause
Assuredly should with the rest have stirr’d;
But singly there I stood,12 when by consent
Of all, Florence had to the ground been raz’d,
The one who openly forbad the deed.”
“So may thy lineage find at last repose,”
I thus adjur’d him, “as thou solve this knot,
Which now involves my mind. If right I hear,
Ye seem to view beforehand, that which time
Leads with him, of the present uninform’d.”
“We view, as one who hath an evil sight,”
He answer’d, “plainly, objects far remote:
So much of his large spendour yet imparts
The’ Almighty Ruler; but when they approach
Or actually exist, our intellect
Then wholly fails, nor of your human state
Except what others bring us know we aught.
Hence therefore mayst thou understand, that all
Our knowledge in that instant shall expire,
When on futurity the portals close.”
Then conscious of my fault,13 and by remorse
Smitten, I added thus: “Now shalt thou say
To him there fallen, that his offspring still
Is to the living join’d; and bid him know,
That if from answer silent I abstain’d,
’Twas that my thought was occupied intent
Upon that error, which thy help hath solv’d.”
But now my master summoning me back
I heard, and with more eager haste besought
The spirit to inform me, who with him
Partook his lot. He answer thus return’d:
“More than a thousand with me here are laid
Within is Frederick,14 second of that name,
And the Lord Cardinal,15 and of the rest
I speak not.” He, this said, from sight withdrew.
But I my steps towards the ancient bard
Reverting, ruminated on the words
Betokening me such ill. Onward he mov’d,
And thus in going question’d: “Whence the’ amaze
That holds thy senses wrapt?” I satisfied
The’ inquiry, and the sage enjoin’d me straight:
“Let thy safe memory store what thou hast heard
To thee importing harm; and note thou this,”
With his rais’d finger bidding me take heed,
“When thou shalt stand before her gracious beam,16
Whose bright eye all surveys, she of thy life
The future tenour will to thee unfold.”
Forthwith he to the left hand turn’d his feet:
We left the wall, and tow’rds the middle space
Went by a path, that to a valley strikes;
Which e’en thus high exhal’d its noisome steam.
Footnotes
1 “Josaphat.” It seems to have been a common opinion among the Jews, as well as among many Christians, that the general judgment will be held in the valley of Josaphat, or Jehoshaphat. “I will also gather all nations, and will bring them down into the valley of Jehoshaphat, and will plead with them there for my people, and for my heritage Israel, whom they have scattered among the nations, and parted my land.”—Joel, iii. 2.
2 “The wish.” The wish that Dante had not expressed was to see and converse with the followers of Epicurus; among whom, we shall see, were Farinata degli Uberti and Cavalcante Cavalcanti
3 “Farinata.” Farinata degli Uberti, a noble Florentine, was the leader of the Ghibelline faction, when they obtained a signal victory over the Guelfi at Montaperto, near the river Arbia. Macchiavelli calls him “a man of exalted soul, and great military talents.”—“Hist. of Flor.” b. ii. His grandson, Bonifacio, commonly called Fazio degli Uberti, wrote a poem, entitled the “Dittamonodo,” in imitation of Dante.
4 “Twice.” The first time in 1248, when they were driven out by Frederick the Second. See G. Villani, lib. vi. c. xxxiv.; and the second time in 1260. See note to v. 83.
5 “A shade.” The spirit of Cavalcante Cavalcanti, a noble Florentine, of the Guelf party.
6 “My son.” Guido, the son of Cavalcante Cavalcanti; “he whom I call the first of my friends,” says Dante in his “Vita Nuova” where the commencement of their friendship is related. From the character given of him by contemporary writers, his temper was well formed to assimilate with that of our Poet. “He was,” according to G. Villani, lib. viii. c. xli., “of a philosophical and elegant mind, if he had not been too delicate and fastidious.”
7 “———Guido they soon Had in contempt.” Guido Cavalcanti, being more given to philosophy than poetry, was perhaps no great admirer of Virgil.
8 “Not yet fifty times.” “Not fifty months shall