Già era in loco onde s'udia 'l rimbombo
de l'acqua che cadea ne l'altro giro,
simile a quel che l'arnie fanno rombo,
quando tre ombre insieme si partiro,
correndo, d'una torma che passava
sotto la pioggia de l'aspro martiro.
Venian ver' noi, e ciascuna gridava:
“Sòstati tu ch'a l'abito ne sembri
essere alcun di nostra terra prava.”
Ahimè, che piaghe vidi ne' lor membri,
ricenti e vecchie, da le fiamme incese!
Ancor men duol pur ch'i' me ne rimembri.
A le lor grida il mio dottor s'attese;
volse 'l viso ver' me, e “Or aspetta,”
disse, “a costor si vuole esser cortese.
E se non fosse il foco che saetta
la natura del loco, i' dicerei
che meglio stesse a te che a lor la fretta.”
Ricominciar, come noi restammo, ei
l'antico verso; e quando a noi fuor giunti,
fenno una rota di sé tutti e trei.
Qual sogliono i campion far nudi e unti,
avvisando lor presa e lor vantaggio,
prima che sien tra lor battuti e punti,
così rotando, ciascuno il visaggio
drizzava a me, sì che 'n contraro il collo
faceva ai piè continüo vïaggio.
E “Se miseria d'esto loco sollo
rende in dispetto noi e nostri prieghi,”
cominciò l'uno, “e 'l tinto aspetto e brollo,
la fama nostra il tuo animo pieghi
a dirne chi tu se', che i vivi piedi
così sicuro per lo 'nferno freghi.
Questi, l'orme di cui pestar mi vedi,
tutto che nudo e dipelato vada,
fu di grado maggior che tu non credi:
nepote fu de la buona Gualdrada;
Guido Guerra ebbe nome, e in sua vita
fece col senno assai e con la spada.
L'altro, ch'appresso me la rena trita,
è Tegghiaio Aldobrandi, la cui voce
nel mondo sù dovria esser gradita.
E io, che posto son con loro in croce,
Iacopo Rusticucci fui, e certo
la fiera moglie più ch'altro mi nuoce.”
S'i' fossi stato dal foco coperto,
gittato mi sarei tra lor di sotto,
e credo che 'l dottor l'avria sofferto;
ma perch' io mi sarei brusciato e cotto,
vinse paura la mia buona voglia
che di loro abbracciar mi facea ghiotto.
Poi cominciai: “Non dispetto, ma doglia
la vostra condizion dentro mi fisse,
tanta che tardi tutta si dispoglia,
tosto che questo mio segnor mi disse
parole per le quali i' mi pensai
che qual voi siete, tal gente venisse.
Di vostra terra sono, e sempre mai
l'ovra di voi e li onorati nomi
con affezion ritrassi e ascoltai.
Lascio lo fele e vo per dolci pomi
promessi a me per lo verace duca;
ma 'nfino al centro pria convien ch'i' tomi.”
“Se lungamente l'anima conduca
le membra tue,” rispuose quelli ancora,
“e se la fama tua dopo te luca
cortesia e valor dì se dimora
ne la nostra città sì come suole,
o se del tutto se n'è gita fora;
ché Guiglielmo Borsiere, il qual si duole
con noi per poco e va là coi compagni,
assai ne cruccia con le sue parole.”
“La gente nuova e i sùbiti guadagni
orgoglio e dismisura han generata,
Fiorenza, in te, sì che tu già ten piagni.”
Così gridai con la faccia levata;
e i tre, che ciò inteser per risposta,
guardar l'un l'altro com' al ver si guata.
“Se l'altre volte sì poco ti costa,”
rispuoser tutti, “il satisfare altrui,
felice te se sì parli a tua posta!
Però, se campi d'esti luoghi bui
e torni a riveder le belle stelle,
quando ti gioverà dicere 'I' fui,'
fa che di noi a la gente favelle.”
Indi rupper la rota, e a fuggirsi
ali sembiar le gambe loro isnelle.
Un amen non saria possuto dirsi
tosto così com' e' fuoro spariti;
per ch'al maestro parve di partirsi.
Io lo seguiva, e poco eravam iti,
che 'l suon de l'acqua n'era sì vicino,
che per parlar saremmo a pena uditi.
Come quel fiume c'ha proprio cammino
prima dal Monte Viso 'nver' levante,
da la sinistra costa d'Apennino,
che si chiama Acquacheta suso, avante
che si divalli giù nel basso letto,
e a Forlì di quel nome è vacante,
rimbomba là sovra San Benedetto
de l'Alpe per cadere ad una scesa
ove dovea per mille esser recetto;
così, giù d'una ripa discoscesa,
trovammo risonar quell' acqua tinta,
sì che 'n poc' ora avria l'orecchia offesa.
Io avea una corda intorno cinta,
e con essa pensai alcuna volta
prender la lonza a la pelle dipinta.
Poscia ch'io l'ebbi tutta da me sciolta,
sì come 'l duca m'avea comandato,
porsila a lui aggroppata e ravvolta.
Ond' ei si volse inver' lo destro lato,
e alquanto di lunge da la sponda
la gittò giuso in quell' alto burrato.
“E' pur convien che novità risponda,”
dicea fra me medesmo, “al novo cenno
che 'l maestro con l'occhio sì seconda.”
Ahi quanto cauti li uomini esser dienno
presso a color che non veggion pur l'ovra,
ma per entro i pensier miran col senno!
El disse a me: “Tosto verrà di sovra
ciò ch'io attendo e che il tuo pensier sogna;
tosto convien ch'al tuo viso si scovra.”
Sempre a quel ver c'ha faccia di menzogna
de' l'uom chiuder le labbra fin ch'el puote,
però che sanza colpa fa vergogna;
ma qui tacer nol posso; e per le note
di questa comedìa, lettor, ti giuro,
s'elle non sien di lunga grazia vòte,
ch'i' vidi per quell' aere grosso e scuro
venir notando una figura in suso,
maravigliosa ad ogne cor sicuro,
sì come torna colui che va giuso
talora a solver l'àncora ch'aggrappa
o scoglio o altro che nel mare è chiuso,
che 'n sù si stende e da piè si rattrappa.
Now was I where was heard the reverberation
Of water falling into the next round,
Like to that humming which the beehives make,
When shadows three together started forth,
Running, from out a company that passed
Beneath the rain of the sharp martyrdom.
Towards us came they, and each one cried out:
"Stop, thou; for by thy garb to us thou seemest
To be some one of our depraved city."
Ah me! what wounds I saw upon their limbs,
Recent and ancient by the flames burnt in!
It pains me still but to remember it.
Unto their cries my Teacher paused attentive;
He turned his face towards me, and "Now wait,"
He said; "to these we should be courteous.
And if it were not for the fire that darts
The nature of this region, I should say
That haste were more becoming thee than them."
As soon as we stood still, they recommenced
The old refrain, and when they overtook us,
Formed of themselves a wheel, all three of them.
As champions stripped and oiled are wont to do,
Watching for their advantage and their hold,
Before they come to blows and thrusts between them,
Thus, wheeling round, did every one his visage
Direct to me, so that in opposite wise
His neck and feet continual journey made.
And, "If the misery of this soft place
Bring in disdain ourselves and our entreaties,"
Began one, "and our aspect black and blistered,
Let the renown of us thy mind incline
To tell us who thou art, who thus securely
Thy living feet dost move along through Hell.
He in whose footprints thou dost see me treading,
Naked and skinless though he now may go,
Was of a greater rank than thou dost think;
He was the grandson of the good Gualdrada;
His name was Guidoguerra, and in life
Much did he with his wisdom and his sword.
The other, who close by me treads the sand,
Tegghiaio Aldobrandi is, whose fame
Above there in the world should welcome be.
And I, who with them on the cross am placed,
Jacopo Rusticucci was; and truly
My savage wife, more than aught else, doth harm me."
Could I have been protected from the fire,
Below I should have thrown myself among them,
And think the Teacher would have suffered it;
But as I should have burned and baked myself,
My terror overmastered my good will,
Which made me greedy of embracing them.
Then I began: "Sorrow and not disdain
Did your condition fix within me so,
That tardily it wholly is stripped off,
As soon as this my Lord said unto me
Words, on account of which I thought within me
That people such as you are were approaching.
I of your city am; and evermore
Your labours and your honourable names
I with affection have retraced and heard.
I leave the gall, and go for the sweet fruits
Promised to me by the veracious Leader;
But to the centre first I needs must plunge."
"So may the soul for a long while conduct
Those limbs of thine," did he make answer then,
"And so may thy renown shine after thee,
Valour and courtesy, say if they dwell
Within our city, as they used to do,
Or if they wholly have gone out of it;
For Guglielmo Borsier, who is in torment
With us of late, and goes there with his comrades,
Doth greatly mortify us with his words."
"The new inhabitants and the sudden gains,
Pride and extravagance have in thee engendered,
Florence, so that thou weep'st thereat already!"
In this wise I exclaimed with face uplifted;
And the three, taking that for my reply,
Looked at each other, as one looks at truth.
"If other times so little it doth cost thee,"
Replied they all, "to satisfy another,
Happy art thou, thus speaking at thy will!
Therefore, if thou escape from these dark places,
And come to rebehold the beauteous stars,
When it shall pleasure thee to say, 'I was,'
See that thou speak of us unto the people."
Then they broke up the wheel, and in their flight
It seemed as if their agile legs were wings.
Not an Amen could possibly be said
So rapidly as they had disappeared;
Wherefore the Master deemed best to depart.
I followed him, and little had we gone,
Before the sound of water was so near us,
That speaking we should hardly have been heard.
Even as that stream which holdeth its own course
The first from Monte Veso tow'rds the East,
Upon the left-hand slope of Apennine,
Which is above called Acquacheta, ere
It down descendeth into its low bed,
And at Forli is vacant of that name,
Reverberates there above San Benedetto
From Alps, by falling at a single leap,
Where for a thousand there were room enough;
Thus downward from a bank precipitate,
We found resounding that dark-tinted water,
So that it soon the ear would have offended.
I had a cord around about me girt,
And therewithal I whilom had designed
To take the panther with the painted skin.
After I this had all from me unloosed,
As my Conductor had commanded me,
I reached it to him, gathered up and coiled,
Whereat he turned himself to the right side,
And at a little distance from the verge,
He cast it down into that deep abyss.
"It must needs be some novelty respond,"
I said within myself, "to the new signal
The Master with his eye is following so."
Ah me! how very cautious men should be
With those who not alone behold the act,
But with their wisdom look into the thoughts!
He said to me: "Soon there will upward come
What I await; and what thy thought is dreaming
Must soon reveal itself unto thy sight."
Aye to that truth which has the face of falsehood,
A man should close his lips as far as may be,
Because without his fault it causes shame;
But here I cannot; and, Reader, by the notes
Of this my Comedy to thee I swear,
So may they not be void of lasting favour,
Athwart that dense and darksome atmosphere
I saw a figure swimming upward come,
Marvellous unto every steadfast heart,
Even as he returns who goeth down
Sometimes to clear an anchor, which has grappled
Reef, or aught else that in the sea is hidden,
Who upward stretches, and draws in his feet.
The opening allusion to the noise of falling water is repeated, once the encounter with the three Florentines is complete, at vv. 92-93.
Everything that we learn about these sinners seconds Virgil's positive opinion of them. And in Inferno VI.79-82 we read that Dante was particularly interested in meeting Iacopo and Tegghiaio (along with Farinata, Mosca, and the mysterious Arrigo), Florentines who had labored to do good for the city. Again we face a situation in which the sinner seems, apart from his sin, a thoroughly admirable person, and indeed capable of performing good deeds. See also Ciacco in Inferno VI.
Dante's sympathy here urged Boccaccio (comm. to these verses) to the following observation: 'In the preceding scenes the author has always been accustomed to show himself greatly moved when he observes the punishment for a sin by which he felt himself stained. I do not know that he here intends that we understand, by the compassion he feels for these sinners, that he is confessing that he sinned in this shameful way; therefore, I leave that consideration to others.'
The three sinners who have recognized Dante as Florentine from his clothing continue their lamentation, but now form themselves into a wheeling circle so that they may remain in motion (in accord with their penalty) while also staying in one place, like joggers at a stoplight. Thus while their feet move in one direction, their heads move in an opposite one, so that their glances may stay fixed on Dante. In her article “I Tre Fiorentini: Rodin's Three Shades and Their Origin in Medieval Illustrations of Dante's Inferno 15 and 16,” Dante Studies 117 (1999), pp. 133-69, Aida Audeh argues that the three shades that surmount Rodin's bronze representation of La Porte de l'Enfer (the Gate of Hell) eventually reflect the infernal presence and behavior of these three sinners and (p. 137) do so in ways that counter the traditional representation of the three Graces. While it is not germane to this discussion, it is perhaps also of interest to consider that (p. 152) Rodin's familiar penseroso was, in the sculptor's mind, a representation of Dante.
There is some discussion in the commentaries as to whether Dante refers to classical wrestling, as presented in Latin epics such as Virgil's and Lucan's, or to a contemporary version of the sport, or, indeed, to both.
The first-named of three Florentines is Guido Guerra (a member of the family of the Conti Guidi, one of the most powerful in northern Italy); born ca. 1220, grandson of Guido Guerra IV and Gualdrada de' Ravignani, he was a notably successful Guelph political leader, leading them back from exile after the battle of Montaperti (1260) to their crushing defeat of the Ghibellines at Benevento (1266) and their restoration to power in the city; he died in 1272. The second is Tegghiaio Aldobrandi, of the noble Adimari family, contemporary and ally of Guido Guerra in the Guelph cause; along with Guido he counselled the Florentines not to engage in the expedition against Siena that ended in the disastrous defeat at Montaperti. The speaker is Iacopo Rusticucci, also a Guelph, but not, like the two he names, of noble rank (at least according to the Anonimo Fiorentino's commentary to this passage). His house and that of his neighbor, Tegghiaio, were destroyed in the aftermath of Montaperti. In the eyes of most readers, Iacopo blames his unwilling wife for his turning to homosexuality. But now see Chiamenti (“Due schedulae ferine: Dante, Rime CIII 71 e Inf. XVI 45,” Lingua nostra 59 [1998], pp. 7-10), who argues that the adjective fiera (bestial) used of her rather suggests, on the heels of remarks made in the third redaction of his commentary by Pietro di Dante, her bestial pleasure in having anal intercourse with her husband, a form of sexual practice indeed considered sodomitic.
Dante's journey through hell produces no scene in which he is as cordial to a group of sinners as this one. That his affection is directed toward homosexuals is noteworthy, but does not necessarily involve him in anything more than what a modern reader must consider a remarkable lack of the typical Christian heterosexual scorn for homosexuals. The conversation here, like that with Ciacco, is devoted not to the sin of which these men were guilty, but to their political concerns for Florence, which Dante shares enthusiastically. These men are 'good Guelphs,' as Farinata was a 'good Ghibelline,' leaders who put true concerns for the city over those of party, as Dante surely believed he himself did.
Dante identifies himself, out of modesty we presume, as a fellow Florentine and not by name. His heavenly destination is enough by way of reward to let him wish to remain modestly anonymous. His reference to the good 'deeds' (ovra) of these souls joins, in a series of moments with positive things to say about some of Florence's citizens, with Brunetto's reference (Inf. XV.60) to Dante's own political work (opera) on behalf of Florence, and to the passage that initiated these concerns, with specific reference to Guido Guerra and Iacopo Rusticucci (Inf. VI. 79-81), when Dante spoke with Ciacco of the good deeds of some of Florence's citizens.
Iacopo's question offers Dante an opportunity to stage one of his frequent invectives against human depravity, especially of the Florentine sort. Guglielmo Borsiere, only recently arrived at this station, has been telling his fellows that the 'good old days' are so no longer (while we have a secure date of death only for Guido Guerra [1272], we imagine that his other two companions also have been in hell for a quarter century or so: Florence is much changed). Guglielmo, of whom we know little, was, as his last name informs us, probably a pursemaker. Courtesy (in the sense of decency toward one's fellows but more in the wider sense of a whole courtly code of living) and valor (in the sense of paying attention to the worth of things in one's own conduct) are thus societal values reflected in individual behavior. Find them in Florence today? Dante's answer will be firmly negative.
The 'new rich,' having moved in from the surrounding countryside, are without any valor and courtesy, and already the civic price is being paid. Dante's brief but strongly phrased remark is filled with personal – and bitter – experience. We should probably remember the earlier denunciation of the original Fiesolan 'barbarian' incursions into pure 'Roman' Florence (Inf. XV.61-78). This moment of rhetorical elevation marks the only place that the name of the city about which the canto is so largely concerned is allowed to appear.
Dante approximates the gesture of an Old Testament prophet, calling for divine retribution, raising his eyes and voice rather to heaven than, as some commentators propose, to Florence.
Like Ciacco (Inf. VI.88 – and few others in hell) these men have the confidence in the force of the good that they did on earth to want to be remembered above, even though they are condemned to eternal punishment.
This is the only time in hell that several sinners speak harmoniously as one. And what is also notable is their reference to the stars that shine over earth now, the only reference to them until we come to the concluding line of the cantica (Inf. XXXIV.139), when Dante and Virgil see them once again.
Beginning with Daniello (who borrowed the notice from his teacher, Trifon Gabriele) commentators have remarked on the similarity of the sentiments expressed in their words 'when you shall rejoice in saying “I was there”' to Aeneas's words to his storm-tossed men (Aen. I.203): 'forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit' (perhaps one day it will be a joy to recall even such events as these).
When this group hurries off to rejoin their fellows (as did Brunetto his), the poet describes their flight as taking no more time than it takes to say 'Amen.' The detail also probably implies, as it were, an illicit prayer for them on Dante's part, as though the protagonist, in response to their kind words, accepted their prayer for his return to the world, and would like to offer one for them in return. In a sense, the poet's positive treatment of them in this canto is the fulfillment of that wish.
The sound of water heard in the opening lines of the canto (Inf. XVI.1-3) is now, since Dante and Virgil have descended the sloping sand toward the center of hell, much louder.
Dante, fond of the rivers of Italy as sources for poetic 'digressions,' describes the Acquacheta (its name means 'quiet water') as being joined by the Riodestro near its source in the Apennines, and then changing name (to 'Montone') at Forlì, before it flows into the Adriatic Sea just south of Ravenna without pouring first into the Po, the major river of the region. At its source at San Benedetto dell'Alpe, the meaning seems to be (and Petrocchi's text is much debated here), when the river was not in flood, forming the cascade referred to, it might have consisted in only a thousand rivulets. Phlegethon, descending into Cocytus, is here a waterfall resembling the Acquacheta in flood.
Perhaps mirroring the length of the river it describes, the simile here is the longest yet found in Inferno (the two closest challengers occur at Inf. III.112-120 and Inf. XV.4-12; but the thirteen cantos of Malebolge will at first equal and finally outdo any other area of the poem for length of simile: Inf. XXI.7-18; Inf. XXII.1-12; Inf. XXIV.1-18; Inf. XXVIII.7-21; and the 'champion,' Inf. XXX.1-27).
Dante's cord is now retrospectively added to the details of the scene in Inferno I (as the full moon will be added to that scene in Inf. XX.127-129). The cord has the function of holding his robes together, but symbolically may also reflect the cincture of one who attempts to 'gird his loins' and live right. For bibliography of various interpretations of the cord's significance see Roberto Mercuri (Semantica di Gerione [Rome: Bulzoni, 1984]), pp. 14n.-17n.
Over the years, some commentators have tried to make the case that the cord is that of a Franciscan garment, and that Dante was a member of the (lay) Third Order of Franciscans. This may be true (most doubt it), but the corda would offer no proof at all, since Dante knew the technical name for the cord that bound the garment of a Franciscan: the capestro (Inf. XXVII.92).
This passage is linked to the question of the identity of the three beasts encountered by Dante in Inferno I. See the note to vv. 32-54 of that canto.
Virgil pitches Dante's coiled-up cord into the abyss apparently as a challenge to a creature somewhere down there. The poet builds suspense for the apparition of that creature, whose appearance is delayed until the beginning of the next canto.
Does Virgil read Dante's thoughts or is he simply so sensitive to Dante's way of reacting to events that he can understand what his pupil must be thinking? For a convincing statement in support of the second thesis, with review of the various other passages in Inferno in which Virgil might seem to be claiming for himself the sort of intellective powers that Beatrice will possess (she does read the pilgrim's mind), see Musa, “Virgil Reads the Pilgrim's Mind,” Dante Studies 95 (1977), pp. 149-52.
The rhetorical energy increases as Dante swears to each of us, his readers, that he actually saw the creature he is about to describe. It is Geryon (only named at Inf. XVII.97, but see the note to Inf. XVII.1-3), as mythical a monster as one can find and, as Castelvetro complained in his commentary, in Dante's handling not even resemblant of any of the descriptions of him found in classical literature (again, see the note to XVII.1-3). In other words, Dante has put the veracity of the entire Comedy (here named for the first of only two times [the second occurs at Inf. XXI.2]) upon the reality of Geryon. Where such as Ferrucci (“Comedía,” Yearbook of Italian Studies 1 [1971], pp. 29-52) use the passage to argue that Dante here obviously admits that his poem is no 'historical' record of an 'actual' journey, Hollander (“Dante Theologus-Poeta,” Dante Studies 94 [1976]), pp. 111-12; 132-33, bases his countering argument in his perception that the ground for Dante's choice of the 'allegory of the theologians' for the Comedy lay in his battle with St. Thomas over the literal untruth of poetry; thus, according to him, Dante 'claims that his poem is literally true while tacitly admitting that he has made it all up' (p. 133). The difference between these two positions may seem slight, but is major, for one reads the poem differently according as one admits or denies the applicability of theological allegory to its making and to its understanding.
For Dante's distinctions between tragedy and comedy see the note to Inferno XX.106-114.
Guido da Pisa (comm. to XVI.124-126) suggests that there are four kinds of statements relating to truth and falsehood: there are those that (1) are both true and true-seeming ('I saw a lion eating a lamb'); (2) false and false-seeming ('I saw an ass fly'); (3) false yet true-seeming ('I saw Peter eating meat on Friday'); (4) true yet false-seeming ('I saw an ass who had killed a lion' – the latter event, Guido explains, once occurred in Florence). Boccaccio's discussion of the way in which true but false-seeming statements bring shame upon their speaker has it that 'those who hear them make fun of him and say that he is a terrible liar' (comm. to vv. 124-126) may also reveal the first Dante professor's knowing smile at his beloved Dante's outrageous claims for truth-telling. Had these commentators or Dante himself read Aristotle's Poetics, they all might have reflected upon Aristotle's advice – here not taken by Dante – to the playwright to avoid describing events that really have occurred if they in fact seem unlikely to have done so.
For one participant (Sperone Speroni) in the sixteenth-century debate over the nature of the truth purveyed in Dante's poem, see Stefano Jossa, “La 'verità' della Commedia. I Discorsi sopra Dante di Sperone Speroni,” Rivista di Studi Danteschi 1 (2001), pp. 221-41, a discussion based in a study by Bernard Weinberg, “The Quarrel over Dante,” in his A History of Literary Criticism, II (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961), pp. 819-911.
Frank Ordiway's article, 'Brunetto and Dante,' completed in draft ca. 1992 but still under revision, makes the point that Dante's phrase 'faccia di menzogna ' (face of falsehood) bears a striking resemblance to Brunetto's 'face de mençoigne' (Tresor II.lviii.17: 'La verités a maintes fois face de mençoigne, et mençoigne est couverte en semblance de verité'), as has now been noted by Emilio Pasquini, Dante e le figure del vero: La fabbrica della “Commedia” (Milan: Bruno Mondadori, 2001), p. 79.
The concluding simile asks the reader to imagine a detail that cannot be seen: 'something other hidden in the sea'; one might argue that precisely this inability to describe what cannot be seen marks the guarantee of Dante's 'realistic' descriptive narrative. Makers of 'fictions' operate under no such limit.
For Geryon as palombaro, that is, a man who releases anchors from the objects they attach to and then pulls himself back up to the surface by a cord thrown into the water with him, see Ignazio Baldelli (“Un errore lessicografico: 'palombaro' e Gerione palombaro,” in Omaggio a Gianfranco Folena [Padua: Editoriale Programma, 1993], pp. 243-49).
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Già era in loco onde s'udia 'l rimbombo
de l'acqua che cadea ne l'altro giro,
simile a quel che l'arnie fanno rombo,
quando tre ombre insieme si partiro,
correndo, d'una torma che passava
sotto la pioggia de l'aspro martiro.
Venian ver' noi, e ciascuna gridava:
“Sòstati tu ch'a l'abito ne sembri
essere alcun di nostra terra prava.”
Ahimè, che piaghe vidi ne' lor membri,
ricenti e vecchie, da le fiamme incese!
Ancor men duol pur ch'i' me ne rimembri.
A le lor grida il mio dottor s'attese;
volse 'l viso ver' me, e “Or aspetta,”
disse, “a costor si vuole esser cortese.
E se non fosse il foco che saetta
la natura del loco, i' dicerei
che meglio stesse a te che a lor la fretta.”
Ricominciar, come noi restammo, ei
l'antico verso; e quando a noi fuor giunti,
fenno una rota di sé tutti e trei.
Qual sogliono i campion far nudi e unti,
avvisando lor presa e lor vantaggio,
prima che sien tra lor battuti e punti,
così rotando, ciascuno il visaggio
drizzava a me, sì che 'n contraro il collo
faceva ai piè continüo vïaggio.
E “Se miseria d'esto loco sollo
rende in dispetto noi e nostri prieghi,”
cominciò l'uno, “e 'l tinto aspetto e brollo,
la fama nostra il tuo animo pieghi
a dirne chi tu se', che i vivi piedi
così sicuro per lo 'nferno freghi.
Questi, l'orme di cui pestar mi vedi,
tutto che nudo e dipelato vada,
fu di grado maggior che tu non credi:
nepote fu de la buona Gualdrada;
Guido Guerra ebbe nome, e in sua vita
fece col senno assai e con la spada.
L'altro, ch'appresso me la rena trita,
è Tegghiaio Aldobrandi, la cui voce
nel mondo sù dovria esser gradita.
E io, che posto son con loro in croce,
Iacopo Rusticucci fui, e certo
la fiera moglie più ch'altro mi nuoce.”
S'i' fossi stato dal foco coperto,
gittato mi sarei tra lor di sotto,
e credo che 'l dottor l'avria sofferto;
ma perch' io mi sarei brusciato e cotto,
vinse paura la mia buona voglia
che di loro abbracciar mi facea ghiotto.
Poi cominciai: “Non dispetto, ma doglia
la vostra condizion dentro mi fisse,
tanta che tardi tutta si dispoglia,
tosto che questo mio segnor mi disse
parole per le quali i' mi pensai
che qual voi siete, tal gente venisse.
Di vostra terra sono, e sempre mai
l'ovra di voi e li onorati nomi
con affezion ritrassi e ascoltai.
Lascio lo fele e vo per dolci pomi
promessi a me per lo verace duca;
ma 'nfino al centro pria convien ch'i' tomi.”
“Se lungamente l'anima conduca
le membra tue,” rispuose quelli ancora,
“e se la fama tua dopo te luca
cortesia e valor dì se dimora
ne la nostra città sì come suole,
o se del tutto se n'è gita fora;
ché Guiglielmo Borsiere, il qual si duole
con noi per poco e va là coi compagni,
assai ne cruccia con le sue parole.”
“La gente nuova e i sùbiti guadagni
orgoglio e dismisura han generata,
Fiorenza, in te, sì che tu già ten piagni.”
Così gridai con la faccia levata;
e i tre, che ciò inteser per risposta,
guardar l'un l'altro com' al ver si guata.
“Se l'altre volte sì poco ti costa,”
rispuoser tutti, “il satisfare altrui,
felice te se sì parli a tua posta!
Però, se campi d'esti luoghi bui
e torni a riveder le belle stelle,
quando ti gioverà dicere 'I' fui,'
fa che di noi a la gente favelle.”
Indi rupper la rota, e a fuggirsi
ali sembiar le gambe loro isnelle.
Un amen non saria possuto dirsi
tosto così com' e' fuoro spariti;
per ch'al maestro parve di partirsi.
Io lo seguiva, e poco eravam iti,
che 'l suon de l'acqua n'era sì vicino,
che per parlar saremmo a pena uditi.
Come quel fiume c'ha proprio cammino
prima dal Monte Viso 'nver' levante,
da la sinistra costa d'Apennino,
che si chiama Acquacheta suso, avante
che si divalli giù nel basso letto,
e a Forlì di quel nome è vacante,
rimbomba là sovra San Benedetto
de l'Alpe per cadere ad una scesa
ove dovea per mille esser recetto;
così, giù d'una ripa discoscesa,
trovammo risonar quell' acqua tinta,
sì che 'n poc' ora avria l'orecchia offesa.
Io avea una corda intorno cinta,
e con essa pensai alcuna volta
prender la lonza a la pelle dipinta.
Poscia ch'io l'ebbi tutta da me sciolta,
sì come 'l duca m'avea comandato,
porsila a lui aggroppata e ravvolta.
Ond' ei si volse inver' lo destro lato,
e alquanto di lunge da la sponda
la gittò giuso in quell' alto burrato.
“E' pur convien che novità risponda,”
dicea fra me medesmo, “al novo cenno
che 'l maestro con l'occhio sì seconda.”
Ahi quanto cauti li uomini esser dienno
presso a color che non veggion pur l'ovra,
ma per entro i pensier miran col senno!
El disse a me: “Tosto verrà di sovra
ciò ch'io attendo e che il tuo pensier sogna;
tosto convien ch'al tuo viso si scovra.”
Sempre a quel ver c'ha faccia di menzogna
de' l'uom chiuder le labbra fin ch'el puote,
però che sanza colpa fa vergogna;
ma qui tacer nol posso; e per le note
di questa comedìa, lettor, ti giuro,
s'elle non sien di lunga grazia vòte,
ch'i' vidi per quell' aere grosso e scuro
venir notando una figura in suso,
maravigliosa ad ogne cor sicuro,
sì come torna colui che va giuso
talora a solver l'àncora ch'aggrappa
o scoglio o altro che nel mare è chiuso,
che 'n sù si stende e da piè si rattrappa.
Now was I where was heard the reverberation
Of water falling into the next round,
Like to that humming which the beehives make,
When shadows three together started forth,
Running, from out a company that passed
Beneath the rain of the sharp martyrdom.
Towards us came they, and each one cried out:
"Stop, thou; for by thy garb to us thou seemest
To be some one of our depraved city."
Ah me! what wounds I saw upon their limbs,
Recent and ancient by the flames burnt in!
It pains me still but to remember it.
Unto their cries my Teacher paused attentive;
He turned his face towards me, and "Now wait,"
He said; "to these we should be courteous.
And if it were not for the fire that darts
The nature of this region, I should say
That haste were more becoming thee than them."
As soon as we stood still, they recommenced
The old refrain, and when they overtook us,
Formed of themselves a wheel, all three of them.
As champions stripped and oiled are wont to do,
Watching for their advantage and their hold,
Before they come to blows and thrusts between them,
Thus, wheeling round, did every one his visage
Direct to me, so that in opposite wise
His neck and feet continual journey made.
And, "If the misery of this soft place
Bring in disdain ourselves and our entreaties,"
Began one, "and our aspect black and blistered,
Let the renown of us thy mind incline
To tell us who thou art, who thus securely
Thy living feet dost move along through Hell.
He in whose footprints thou dost see me treading,
Naked and skinless though he now may go,
Was of a greater rank than thou dost think;
He was the grandson of the good Gualdrada;
His name was Guidoguerra, and in life
Much did he with his wisdom and his sword.
The other, who close by me treads the sand,
Tegghiaio Aldobrandi is, whose fame
Above there in the world should welcome be.
And I, who with them on the cross am placed,
Jacopo Rusticucci was; and truly
My savage wife, more than aught else, doth harm me."
Could I have been protected from the fire,
Below I should have thrown myself among them,
And think the Teacher would have suffered it;
But as I should have burned and baked myself,
My terror overmastered my good will,
Which made me greedy of embracing them.
Then I began: "Sorrow and not disdain
Did your condition fix within me so,
That tardily it wholly is stripped off,
As soon as this my Lord said unto me
Words, on account of which I thought within me
That people such as you are were approaching.
I of your city am; and evermore
Your labours and your honourable names
I with affection have retraced and heard.
I leave the gall, and go for the sweet fruits
Promised to me by the veracious Leader;
But to the centre first I needs must plunge."
"So may the soul for a long while conduct
Those limbs of thine," did he make answer then,
"And so may thy renown shine after thee,
Valour and courtesy, say if they dwell
Within our city, as they used to do,
Or if they wholly have gone out of it;
For Guglielmo Borsier, who is in torment
With us of late, and goes there with his comrades,
Doth greatly mortify us with his words."
"The new inhabitants and the sudden gains,
Pride and extravagance have in thee engendered,
Florence, so that thou weep'st thereat already!"
In this wise I exclaimed with face uplifted;
And the three, taking that for my reply,
Looked at each other, as one looks at truth.
"If other times so little it doth cost thee,"
Replied they all, "to satisfy another,
Happy art thou, thus speaking at thy will!
Therefore, if thou escape from these dark places,
And come to rebehold the beauteous stars,
When it shall pleasure thee to say, 'I was,'
See that thou speak of us unto the people."
Then they broke up the wheel, and in their flight
It seemed as if their agile legs were wings.
Not an Amen could possibly be said
So rapidly as they had disappeared;
Wherefore the Master deemed best to depart.
I followed him, and little had we gone,
Before the sound of water was so near us,
That speaking we should hardly have been heard.
Even as that stream which holdeth its own course
The first from Monte Veso tow'rds the East,
Upon the left-hand slope of Apennine,
Which is above called Acquacheta, ere
It down descendeth into its low bed,
And at Forli is vacant of that name,
Reverberates there above San Benedetto
From Alps, by falling at a single leap,
Where for a thousand there were room enough;
Thus downward from a bank precipitate,
We found resounding that dark-tinted water,
So that it soon the ear would have offended.
I had a cord around about me girt,
And therewithal I whilom had designed
To take the panther with the painted skin.
After I this had all from me unloosed,
As my Conductor had commanded me,
I reached it to him, gathered up and coiled,
Whereat he turned himself to the right side,
And at a little distance from the verge,
He cast it down into that deep abyss.
"It must needs be some novelty respond,"
I said within myself, "to the new signal
The Master with his eye is following so."
Ah me! how very cautious men should be
With those who not alone behold the act,
But with their wisdom look into the thoughts!
He said to me: "Soon there will upward come
What I await; and what thy thought is dreaming
Must soon reveal itself unto thy sight."
Aye to that truth which has the face of falsehood,
A man should close his lips as far as may be,
Because without his fault it causes shame;
But here I cannot; and, Reader, by the notes
Of this my Comedy to thee I swear,
So may they not be void of lasting favour,
Athwart that dense and darksome atmosphere
I saw a figure swimming upward come,
Marvellous unto every steadfast heart,
Even as he returns who goeth down
Sometimes to clear an anchor, which has grappled
Reef, or aught else that in the sea is hidden,
Who upward stretches, and draws in his feet.
The opening allusion to the noise of falling water is repeated, once the encounter with the three Florentines is complete, at vv. 92-93.
Everything that we learn about these sinners seconds Virgil's positive opinion of them. And in Inferno VI.79-82 we read that Dante was particularly interested in meeting Iacopo and Tegghiaio (along with Farinata, Mosca, and the mysterious Arrigo), Florentines who had labored to do good for the city. Again we face a situation in which the sinner seems, apart from his sin, a thoroughly admirable person, and indeed capable of performing good deeds. See also Ciacco in Inferno VI.
Dante's sympathy here urged Boccaccio (comm. to these verses) to the following observation: 'In the preceding scenes the author has always been accustomed to show himself greatly moved when he observes the punishment for a sin by which he felt himself stained. I do not know that he here intends that we understand, by the compassion he feels for these sinners, that he is confessing that he sinned in this shameful way; therefore, I leave that consideration to others.'
The three sinners who have recognized Dante as Florentine from his clothing continue their lamentation, but now form themselves into a wheeling circle so that they may remain in motion (in accord with their penalty) while also staying in one place, like joggers at a stoplight. Thus while their feet move in one direction, their heads move in an opposite one, so that their glances may stay fixed on Dante. In her article “I Tre Fiorentini: Rodin's Three Shades and Their Origin in Medieval Illustrations of Dante's Inferno 15 and 16,” Dante Studies 117 (1999), pp. 133-69, Aida Audeh argues that the three shades that surmount Rodin's bronze representation of La Porte de l'Enfer (the Gate of Hell) eventually reflect the infernal presence and behavior of these three sinners and (p. 137) do so in ways that counter the traditional representation of the three Graces. While it is not germane to this discussion, it is perhaps also of interest to consider that (p. 152) Rodin's familiar penseroso was, in the sculptor's mind, a representation of Dante.
There is some discussion in the commentaries as to whether Dante refers to classical wrestling, as presented in Latin epics such as Virgil's and Lucan's, or to a contemporary version of the sport, or, indeed, to both.
The first-named of three Florentines is Guido Guerra (a member of the family of the Conti Guidi, one of the most powerful in northern Italy); born ca. 1220, grandson of Guido Guerra IV and Gualdrada de' Ravignani, he was a notably successful Guelph political leader, leading them back from exile after the battle of Montaperti (1260) to their crushing defeat of the Ghibellines at Benevento (1266) and their restoration to power in the city; he died in 1272. The second is Tegghiaio Aldobrandi, of the noble Adimari family, contemporary and ally of Guido Guerra in the Guelph cause; along with Guido he counselled the Florentines not to engage in the expedition against Siena that ended in the disastrous defeat at Montaperti. The speaker is Iacopo Rusticucci, also a Guelph, but not, like the two he names, of noble rank (at least according to the Anonimo Fiorentino's commentary to this passage). His house and that of his neighbor, Tegghiaio, were destroyed in the aftermath of Montaperti. In the eyes of most readers, Iacopo blames his unwilling wife for his turning to homosexuality. But now see Chiamenti (“Due schedulae ferine: Dante, Rime CIII 71 e Inf. XVI 45,” Lingua nostra 59 [1998], pp. 7-10), who argues that the adjective fiera (bestial) used of her rather suggests, on the heels of remarks made in the third redaction of his commentary by Pietro di Dante, her bestial pleasure in having anal intercourse with her husband, a form of sexual practice indeed considered sodomitic.
Dante's journey through hell produces no scene in which he is as cordial to a group of sinners as this one. That his affection is directed toward homosexuals is noteworthy, but does not necessarily involve him in anything more than what a modern reader must consider a remarkable lack of the typical Christian heterosexual scorn for homosexuals. The conversation here, like that with Ciacco, is devoted not to the sin of which these men were guilty, but to their political concerns for Florence, which Dante shares enthusiastically. These men are 'good Guelphs,' as Farinata was a 'good Ghibelline,' leaders who put true concerns for the city over those of party, as Dante surely believed he himself did.
Dante identifies himself, out of modesty we presume, as a fellow Florentine and not by name. His heavenly destination is enough by way of reward to let him wish to remain modestly anonymous. His reference to the good 'deeds' (ovra) of these souls joins, in a series of moments with positive things to say about some of Florence's citizens, with Brunetto's reference (Inf. XV.60) to Dante's own political work (opera) on behalf of Florence, and to the passage that initiated these concerns, with specific reference to Guido Guerra and Iacopo Rusticucci (Inf. VI. 79-81), when Dante spoke with Ciacco of the good deeds of some of Florence's citizens.
Iacopo's question offers Dante an opportunity to stage one of his frequent invectives against human depravity, especially of the Florentine sort. Guglielmo Borsiere, only recently arrived at this station, has been telling his fellows that the 'good old days' are so no longer (while we have a secure date of death only for Guido Guerra [1272], we imagine that his other two companions also have been in hell for a quarter century or so: Florence is much changed). Guglielmo, of whom we know little, was, as his last name informs us, probably a pursemaker. Courtesy (in the sense of decency toward one's fellows but more in the wider sense of a whole courtly code of living) and valor (in the sense of paying attention to the worth of things in one's own conduct) are thus societal values reflected in individual behavior. Find them in Florence today? Dante's answer will be firmly negative.
The 'new rich,' having moved in from the surrounding countryside, are without any valor and courtesy, and already the civic price is being paid. Dante's brief but strongly phrased remark is filled with personal – and bitter – experience. We should probably remember the earlier denunciation of the original Fiesolan 'barbarian' incursions into pure 'Roman' Florence (Inf. XV.61-78). This moment of rhetorical elevation marks the only place that the name of the city about which the canto is so largely concerned is allowed to appear.
Dante approximates the gesture of an Old Testament prophet, calling for divine retribution, raising his eyes and voice rather to heaven than, as some commentators propose, to Florence.
Like Ciacco (Inf. VI.88 – and few others in hell) these men have the confidence in the force of the good that they did on earth to want to be remembered above, even though they are condemned to eternal punishment.
This is the only time in hell that several sinners speak harmoniously as one. And what is also notable is their reference to the stars that shine over earth now, the only reference to them until we come to the concluding line of the cantica (Inf. XXXIV.139), when Dante and Virgil see them once again.
Beginning with Daniello (who borrowed the notice from his teacher, Trifon Gabriele) commentators have remarked on the similarity of the sentiments expressed in their words 'when you shall rejoice in saying “I was there”' to Aeneas's words to his storm-tossed men (Aen. I.203): 'forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit' (perhaps one day it will be a joy to recall even such events as these).
When this group hurries off to rejoin their fellows (as did Brunetto his), the poet describes their flight as taking no more time than it takes to say 'Amen.' The detail also probably implies, as it were, an illicit prayer for them on Dante's part, as though the protagonist, in response to their kind words, accepted their prayer for his return to the world, and would like to offer one for them in return. In a sense, the poet's positive treatment of them in this canto is the fulfillment of that wish.
The sound of water heard in the opening lines of the canto (Inf. XVI.1-3) is now, since Dante and Virgil have descended the sloping sand toward the center of hell, much louder.
Dante, fond of the rivers of Italy as sources for poetic 'digressions,' describes the Acquacheta (its name means 'quiet water') as being joined by the Riodestro near its source in the Apennines, and then changing name (to 'Montone') at Forlì, before it flows into the Adriatic Sea just south of Ravenna without pouring first into the Po, the major river of the region. At its source at San Benedetto dell'Alpe, the meaning seems to be (and Petrocchi's text is much debated here), when the river was not in flood, forming the cascade referred to, it might have consisted in only a thousand rivulets. Phlegethon, descending into Cocytus, is here a waterfall resembling the Acquacheta in flood.
Perhaps mirroring the length of the river it describes, the simile here is the longest yet found in Inferno (the two closest challengers occur at Inf. III.112-120 and Inf. XV.4-12; but the thirteen cantos of Malebolge will at first equal and finally outdo any other area of the poem for length of simile: Inf. XXI.7-18; Inf. XXII.1-12; Inf. XXIV.1-18; Inf. XXVIII.7-21; and the 'champion,' Inf. XXX.1-27).
Dante's cord is now retrospectively added to the details of the scene in Inferno I (as the full moon will be added to that scene in Inf. XX.127-129). The cord has the function of holding his robes together, but symbolically may also reflect the cincture of one who attempts to 'gird his loins' and live right. For bibliography of various interpretations of the cord's significance see Roberto Mercuri (Semantica di Gerione [Rome: Bulzoni, 1984]), pp. 14n.-17n.
Over the years, some commentators have tried to make the case that the cord is that of a Franciscan garment, and that Dante was a member of the (lay) Third Order of Franciscans. This may be true (most doubt it), but the corda would offer no proof at all, since Dante knew the technical name for the cord that bound the garment of a Franciscan: the capestro (Inf. XXVII.92).
This passage is linked to the question of the identity of the three beasts encountered by Dante in Inferno I. See the note to vv. 32-54 of that canto.
Virgil pitches Dante's coiled-up cord into the abyss apparently as a challenge to a creature somewhere down there. The poet builds suspense for the apparition of that creature, whose appearance is delayed until the beginning of the next canto.
Does Virgil read Dante's thoughts or is he simply so sensitive to Dante's way of reacting to events that he can understand what his pupil must be thinking? For a convincing statement in support of the second thesis, with review of the various other passages in Inferno in which Virgil might seem to be claiming for himself the sort of intellective powers that Beatrice will possess (she does read the pilgrim's mind), see Musa, “Virgil Reads the Pilgrim's Mind,” Dante Studies 95 (1977), pp. 149-52.
The rhetorical energy increases as Dante swears to each of us, his readers, that he actually saw the creature he is about to describe. It is Geryon (only named at Inf. XVII.97, but see the note to Inf. XVII.1-3), as mythical a monster as one can find and, as Castelvetro complained in his commentary, in Dante's handling not even resemblant of any of the descriptions of him found in classical literature (again, see the note to XVII.1-3). In other words, Dante has put the veracity of the entire Comedy (here named for the first of only two times [the second occurs at Inf. XXI.2]) upon the reality of Geryon. Where such as Ferrucci (“Comedía,” Yearbook of Italian Studies 1 [1971], pp. 29-52) use the passage to argue that Dante here obviously admits that his poem is no 'historical' record of an 'actual' journey, Hollander (“Dante Theologus-Poeta,” Dante Studies 94 [1976]), pp. 111-12; 132-33, bases his countering argument in his perception that the ground for Dante's choice of the 'allegory of the theologians' for the Comedy lay in his battle with St. Thomas over the literal untruth of poetry; thus, according to him, Dante 'claims that his poem is literally true while tacitly admitting that he has made it all up' (p. 133). The difference between these two positions may seem slight, but is major, for one reads the poem differently according as one admits or denies the applicability of theological allegory to its making and to its understanding.
For Dante's distinctions between tragedy and comedy see the note to Inferno XX.106-114.
Guido da Pisa (comm. to XVI.124-126) suggests that there are four kinds of statements relating to truth and falsehood: there are those that (1) are both true and true-seeming ('I saw a lion eating a lamb'); (2) false and false-seeming ('I saw an ass fly'); (3) false yet true-seeming ('I saw Peter eating meat on Friday'); (4) true yet false-seeming ('I saw an ass who had killed a lion' – the latter event, Guido explains, once occurred in Florence). Boccaccio's discussion of the way in which true but false-seeming statements bring shame upon their speaker has it that 'those who hear them make fun of him and say that he is a terrible liar' (comm. to vv. 124-126) may also reveal the first Dante professor's knowing smile at his beloved Dante's outrageous claims for truth-telling. Had these commentators or Dante himself read Aristotle's Poetics, they all might have reflected upon Aristotle's advice – here not taken by Dante – to the playwright to avoid describing events that really have occurred if they in fact seem unlikely to have done so.
For one participant (Sperone Speroni) in the sixteenth-century debate over the nature of the truth purveyed in Dante's poem, see Stefano Jossa, “La 'verità' della Commedia. I Discorsi sopra Dante di Sperone Speroni,” Rivista di Studi Danteschi 1 (2001), pp. 221-41, a discussion based in a study by Bernard Weinberg, “The Quarrel over Dante,” in his A History of Literary Criticism, II (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961), pp. 819-911.
Frank Ordiway's article, 'Brunetto and Dante,' completed in draft ca. 1992 but still under revision, makes the point that Dante's phrase 'faccia di menzogna ' (face of falsehood) bears a striking resemblance to Brunetto's 'face de mençoigne' (Tresor II.lviii.17: 'La verités a maintes fois face de mençoigne, et mençoigne est couverte en semblance de verité'), as has now been noted by Emilio Pasquini, Dante e le figure del vero: La fabbrica della “Commedia” (Milan: Bruno Mondadori, 2001), p. 79.
The concluding simile asks the reader to imagine a detail that cannot be seen: 'something other hidden in the sea'; one might argue that precisely this inability to describe what cannot be seen marks the guarantee of Dante's 'realistic' descriptive narrative. Makers of 'fictions' operate under no such limit.
For Geryon as palombaro, that is, a man who releases anchors from the objects they attach to and then pulls himself back up to the surface by a cord thrown into the water with him, see Ignazio Baldelli (“Un errore lessicografico: 'palombaro' e Gerione palombaro,” in Omaggio a Gianfranco Folena [Padua: Editoriale Programma, 1993], pp. 243-49).
Commentary text is copyrighted and reproduced by permission.
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Già era in loco onde s'udia 'l rimbombo
de l'acqua che cadea ne l'altro giro,
simile a quel che l'arnie fanno rombo,
quando tre ombre insieme si partiro,
correndo, d'una torma che passava
sotto la pioggia de l'aspro martiro.
Venian ver' noi, e ciascuna gridava:
“Sòstati tu ch'a l'abito ne sembri
essere alcun di nostra terra prava.”
Ahimè, che piaghe vidi ne' lor membri,
ricenti e vecchie, da le fiamme incese!
Ancor men duol pur ch'i' me ne rimembri.
A le lor grida il mio dottor s'attese;
volse 'l viso ver' me, e “Or aspetta,”
disse, “a costor si vuole esser cortese.
E se non fosse il foco che saetta
la natura del loco, i' dicerei
che meglio stesse a te che a lor la fretta.”
Ricominciar, come noi restammo, ei
l'antico verso; e quando a noi fuor giunti,
fenno una rota di sé tutti e trei.
Qual sogliono i campion far nudi e unti,
avvisando lor presa e lor vantaggio,
prima che sien tra lor battuti e punti,
così rotando, ciascuno il visaggio
drizzava a me, sì che 'n contraro il collo
faceva ai piè continüo vïaggio.
E “Se miseria d'esto loco sollo
rende in dispetto noi e nostri prieghi,”
cominciò l'uno, “e 'l tinto aspetto e brollo,
la fama nostra il tuo animo pieghi
a dirne chi tu se', che i vivi piedi
così sicuro per lo 'nferno freghi.
Questi, l'orme di cui pestar mi vedi,
tutto che nudo e dipelato vada,
fu di grado maggior che tu non credi:
nepote fu de la buona Gualdrada;
Guido Guerra ebbe nome, e in sua vita
fece col senno assai e con la spada.
L'altro, ch'appresso me la rena trita,
è Tegghiaio Aldobrandi, la cui voce
nel mondo sù dovria esser gradita.
E io, che posto son con loro in croce,
Iacopo Rusticucci fui, e certo
la fiera moglie più ch'altro mi nuoce.”
S'i' fossi stato dal foco coperto,
gittato mi sarei tra lor di sotto,
e credo che 'l dottor l'avria sofferto;
ma perch' io mi sarei brusciato e cotto,
vinse paura la mia buona voglia
che di loro abbracciar mi facea ghiotto.
Poi cominciai: “Non dispetto, ma doglia
la vostra condizion dentro mi fisse,
tanta che tardi tutta si dispoglia,
tosto che questo mio segnor mi disse
parole per le quali i' mi pensai
che qual voi siete, tal gente venisse.
Di vostra terra sono, e sempre mai
l'ovra di voi e li onorati nomi
con affezion ritrassi e ascoltai.
Lascio lo fele e vo per dolci pomi
promessi a me per lo verace duca;
ma 'nfino al centro pria convien ch'i' tomi.”
“Se lungamente l'anima conduca
le membra tue,” rispuose quelli ancora,
“e se la fama tua dopo te luca
cortesia e valor dì se dimora
ne la nostra città sì come suole,
o se del tutto se n'è gita fora;
ché Guiglielmo Borsiere, il qual si duole
con noi per poco e va là coi compagni,
assai ne cruccia con le sue parole.”
“La gente nuova e i sùbiti guadagni
orgoglio e dismisura han generata,
Fiorenza, in te, sì che tu già ten piagni.”
Così gridai con la faccia levata;
e i tre, che ciò inteser per risposta,
guardar l'un l'altro com' al ver si guata.
“Se l'altre volte sì poco ti costa,”
rispuoser tutti, “il satisfare altrui,
felice te se sì parli a tua posta!
Però, se campi d'esti luoghi bui
e torni a riveder le belle stelle,
quando ti gioverà dicere 'I' fui,'
fa che di noi a la gente favelle.”
Indi rupper la rota, e a fuggirsi
ali sembiar le gambe loro isnelle.
Un amen non saria possuto dirsi
tosto così com' e' fuoro spariti;
per ch'al maestro parve di partirsi.
Io lo seguiva, e poco eravam iti,
che 'l suon de l'acqua n'era sì vicino,
che per parlar saremmo a pena uditi.
Come quel fiume c'ha proprio cammino
prima dal Monte Viso 'nver' levante,
da la sinistra costa d'Apennino,
che si chiama Acquacheta suso, avante
che si divalli giù nel basso letto,
e a Forlì di quel nome è vacante,
rimbomba là sovra San Benedetto
de l'Alpe per cadere ad una scesa
ove dovea per mille esser recetto;
così, giù d'una ripa discoscesa,
trovammo risonar quell' acqua tinta,
sì che 'n poc' ora avria l'orecchia offesa.
Io avea una corda intorno cinta,
e con essa pensai alcuna volta
prender la lonza a la pelle dipinta.
Poscia ch'io l'ebbi tutta da me sciolta,
sì come 'l duca m'avea comandato,
porsila a lui aggroppata e ravvolta.
Ond' ei si volse inver' lo destro lato,
e alquanto di lunge da la sponda
la gittò giuso in quell' alto burrato.
“E' pur convien che novità risponda,”
dicea fra me medesmo, “al novo cenno
che 'l maestro con l'occhio sì seconda.”
Ahi quanto cauti li uomini esser dienno
presso a color che non veggion pur l'ovra,
ma per entro i pensier miran col senno!
El disse a me: “Tosto verrà di sovra
ciò ch'io attendo e che il tuo pensier sogna;
tosto convien ch'al tuo viso si scovra.”
Sempre a quel ver c'ha faccia di menzogna
de' l'uom chiuder le labbra fin ch'el puote,
però che sanza colpa fa vergogna;
ma qui tacer nol posso; e per le note
di questa comedìa, lettor, ti giuro,
s'elle non sien di lunga grazia vòte,
ch'i' vidi per quell' aere grosso e scuro
venir notando una figura in suso,
maravigliosa ad ogne cor sicuro,
sì come torna colui che va giuso
talora a solver l'àncora ch'aggrappa
o scoglio o altro che nel mare è chiuso,
che 'n sù si stende e da piè si rattrappa.
Now was I where was heard the reverberation
Of water falling into the next round,
Like to that humming which the beehives make,
When shadows three together started forth,
Running, from out a company that passed
Beneath the rain of the sharp martyrdom.
Towards us came they, and each one cried out:
"Stop, thou; for by thy garb to us thou seemest
To be some one of our depraved city."
Ah me! what wounds I saw upon their limbs,
Recent and ancient by the flames burnt in!
It pains me still but to remember it.
Unto their cries my Teacher paused attentive;
He turned his face towards me, and "Now wait,"
He said; "to these we should be courteous.
And if it were not for the fire that darts
The nature of this region, I should say
That haste were more becoming thee than them."
As soon as we stood still, they recommenced
The old refrain, and when they overtook us,
Formed of themselves a wheel, all three of them.
As champions stripped and oiled are wont to do,
Watching for their advantage and their hold,
Before they come to blows and thrusts between them,
Thus, wheeling round, did every one his visage
Direct to me, so that in opposite wise
His neck and feet continual journey made.
And, "If the misery of this soft place
Bring in disdain ourselves and our entreaties,"
Began one, "and our aspect black and blistered,
Let the renown of us thy mind incline
To tell us who thou art, who thus securely
Thy living feet dost move along through Hell.
He in whose footprints thou dost see me treading,
Naked and skinless though he now may go,
Was of a greater rank than thou dost think;
He was the grandson of the good Gualdrada;
His name was Guidoguerra, and in life
Much did he with his wisdom and his sword.
The other, who close by me treads the sand,
Tegghiaio Aldobrandi is, whose fame
Above there in the world should welcome be.
And I, who with them on the cross am placed,
Jacopo Rusticucci was; and truly
My savage wife, more than aught else, doth harm me."
Could I have been protected from the fire,
Below I should have thrown myself among them,
And think the Teacher would have suffered it;
But as I should have burned and baked myself,
My terror overmastered my good will,
Which made me greedy of embracing them.
Then I began: "Sorrow and not disdain
Did your condition fix within me so,
That tardily it wholly is stripped off,
As soon as this my Lord said unto me
Words, on account of which I thought within me
That people such as you are were approaching.
I of your city am; and evermore
Your labours and your honourable names
I with affection have retraced and heard.
I leave the gall, and go for the sweet fruits
Promised to me by the veracious Leader;
But to the centre first I needs must plunge."
"So may the soul for a long while conduct
Those limbs of thine," did he make answer then,
"And so may thy renown shine after thee,
Valour and courtesy, say if they dwell
Within our city, as they used to do,
Or if they wholly have gone out of it;
For Guglielmo Borsier, who is in torment
With us of late, and goes there with his comrades,
Doth greatly mortify us with his words."
"The new inhabitants and the sudden gains,
Pride and extravagance have in thee engendered,
Florence, so that thou weep'st thereat already!"
In this wise I exclaimed with face uplifted;
And the three, taking that for my reply,
Looked at each other, as one looks at truth.
"If other times so little it doth cost thee,"
Replied they all, "to satisfy another,
Happy art thou, thus speaking at thy will!
Therefore, if thou escape from these dark places,
And come to rebehold the beauteous stars,
When it shall pleasure thee to say, 'I was,'
See that thou speak of us unto the people."
Then they broke up the wheel, and in their flight
It seemed as if their agile legs were wings.
Not an Amen could possibly be said
So rapidly as they had disappeared;
Wherefore the Master deemed best to depart.
I followed him, and little had we gone,
Before the sound of water was so near us,
That speaking we should hardly have been heard.
Even as that stream which holdeth its own course
The first from Monte Veso tow'rds the East,
Upon the left-hand slope of Apennine,
Which is above called Acquacheta, ere
It down descendeth into its low bed,
And at Forli is vacant of that name,
Reverberates there above San Benedetto
From Alps, by falling at a single leap,
Where for a thousand there were room enough;
Thus downward from a bank precipitate,
We found resounding that dark-tinted water,
So that it soon the ear would have offended.
I had a cord around about me girt,
And therewithal I whilom had designed
To take the panther with the painted skin.
After I this had all from me unloosed,
As my Conductor had commanded me,
I reached it to him, gathered up and coiled,
Whereat he turned himself to the right side,
And at a little distance from the verge,
He cast it down into that deep abyss.
"It must needs be some novelty respond,"
I said within myself, "to the new signal
The Master with his eye is following so."
Ah me! how very cautious men should be
With those who not alone behold the act,
But with their wisdom look into the thoughts!
He said to me: "Soon there will upward come
What I await; and what thy thought is dreaming
Must soon reveal itself unto thy sight."
Aye to that truth which has the face of falsehood,
A man should close his lips as far as may be,
Because without his fault it causes shame;
But here I cannot; and, Reader, by the notes
Of this my Comedy to thee I swear,
So may they not be void of lasting favour,
Athwart that dense and darksome atmosphere
I saw a figure swimming upward come,
Marvellous unto every steadfast heart,
Even as he returns who goeth down
Sometimes to clear an anchor, which has grappled
Reef, or aught else that in the sea is hidden,
Who upward stretches, and draws in his feet.
The opening allusion to the noise of falling water is repeated, once the encounter with the three Florentines is complete, at vv. 92-93.
Everything that we learn about these sinners seconds Virgil's positive opinion of them. And in Inferno VI.79-82 we read that Dante was particularly interested in meeting Iacopo and Tegghiaio (along with Farinata, Mosca, and the mysterious Arrigo), Florentines who had labored to do good for the city. Again we face a situation in which the sinner seems, apart from his sin, a thoroughly admirable person, and indeed capable of performing good deeds. See also Ciacco in Inferno VI.
Dante's sympathy here urged Boccaccio (comm. to these verses) to the following observation: 'In the preceding scenes the author has always been accustomed to show himself greatly moved when he observes the punishment for a sin by which he felt himself stained. I do not know that he here intends that we understand, by the compassion he feels for these sinners, that he is confessing that he sinned in this shameful way; therefore, I leave that consideration to others.'
The three sinners who have recognized Dante as Florentine from his clothing continue their lamentation, but now form themselves into a wheeling circle so that they may remain in motion (in accord with their penalty) while also staying in one place, like joggers at a stoplight. Thus while their feet move in one direction, their heads move in an opposite one, so that their glances may stay fixed on Dante. In her article “I Tre Fiorentini: Rodin's Three Shades and Their Origin in Medieval Illustrations of Dante's Inferno 15 and 16,” Dante Studies 117 (1999), pp. 133-69, Aida Audeh argues that the three shades that surmount Rodin's bronze representation of La Porte de l'Enfer (the Gate of Hell) eventually reflect the infernal presence and behavior of these three sinners and (p. 137) do so in ways that counter the traditional representation of the three Graces. While it is not germane to this discussion, it is perhaps also of interest to consider that (p. 152) Rodin's familiar penseroso was, in the sculptor's mind, a representation of Dante.
There is some discussion in the commentaries as to whether Dante refers to classical wrestling, as presented in Latin epics such as Virgil's and Lucan's, or to a contemporary version of the sport, or, indeed, to both.
The first-named of three Florentines is Guido Guerra (a member of the family of the Conti Guidi, one of the most powerful in northern Italy); born ca. 1220, grandson of Guido Guerra IV and Gualdrada de' Ravignani, he was a notably successful Guelph political leader, leading them back from exile after the battle of Montaperti (1260) to their crushing defeat of the Ghibellines at Benevento (1266) and their restoration to power in the city; he died in 1272. The second is Tegghiaio Aldobrandi, of the noble Adimari family, contemporary and ally of Guido Guerra in the Guelph cause; along with Guido he counselled the Florentines not to engage in the expedition against Siena that ended in the disastrous defeat at Montaperti. The speaker is Iacopo Rusticucci, also a Guelph, but not, like the two he names, of noble rank (at least according to the Anonimo Fiorentino's commentary to this passage). His house and that of his neighbor, Tegghiaio, were destroyed in the aftermath of Montaperti. In the eyes of most readers, Iacopo blames his unwilling wife for his turning to homosexuality. But now see Chiamenti (“Due schedulae ferine: Dante, Rime CIII 71 e Inf. XVI 45,” Lingua nostra 59 [1998], pp. 7-10), who argues that the adjective fiera (bestial) used of her rather suggests, on the heels of remarks made in the third redaction of his commentary by Pietro di Dante, her bestial pleasure in having anal intercourse with her husband, a form of sexual practice indeed considered sodomitic.
Dante's journey through hell produces no scene in which he is as cordial to a group of sinners as this one. That his affection is directed toward homosexuals is noteworthy, but does not necessarily involve him in anything more than what a modern reader must consider a remarkable lack of the typical Christian heterosexual scorn for homosexuals. The conversation here, like that with Ciacco, is devoted not to the sin of which these men were guilty, but to their political concerns for Florence, which Dante shares enthusiastically. These men are 'good Guelphs,' as Farinata was a 'good Ghibelline,' leaders who put true concerns for the city over those of party, as Dante surely believed he himself did.
Dante identifies himself, out of modesty we presume, as a fellow Florentine and not by name. His heavenly destination is enough by way of reward to let him wish to remain modestly anonymous. His reference to the good 'deeds' (ovra) of these souls joins, in a series of moments with positive things to say about some of Florence's citizens, with Brunetto's reference (Inf. XV.60) to Dante's own political work (opera) on behalf of Florence, and to the passage that initiated these concerns, with specific reference to Guido Guerra and Iacopo Rusticucci (Inf. VI. 79-81), when Dante spoke with Ciacco of the good deeds of some of Florence's citizens.
Iacopo's question offers Dante an opportunity to stage one of his frequent invectives against human depravity, especially of the Florentine sort. Guglielmo Borsiere, only recently arrived at this station, has been telling his fellows that the 'good old days' are so no longer (while we have a secure date of death only for Guido Guerra [1272], we imagine that his other two companions also have been in hell for a quarter century or so: Florence is much changed). Guglielmo, of whom we know little, was, as his last name informs us, probably a pursemaker. Courtesy (in the sense of decency toward one's fellows but more in the wider sense of a whole courtly code of living) and valor (in the sense of paying attention to the worth of things in one's own conduct) are thus societal values reflected in individual behavior. Find them in Florence today? Dante's answer will be firmly negative.
The 'new rich,' having moved in from the surrounding countryside, are without any valor and courtesy, and already the civic price is being paid. Dante's brief but strongly phrased remark is filled with personal – and bitter – experience. We should probably remember the earlier denunciation of the original Fiesolan 'barbarian' incursions into pure 'Roman' Florence (Inf. XV.61-78). This moment of rhetorical elevation marks the only place that the name of the city about which the canto is so largely concerned is allowed to appear.
Dante approximates the gesture of an Old Testament prophet, calling for divine retribution, raising his eyes and voice rather to heaven than, as some commentators propose, to Florence.
Like Ciacco (Inf. VI.88 – and few others in hell) these men have the confidence in the force of the good that they did on earth to want to be remembered above, even though they are condemned to eternal punishment.
This is the only time in hell that several sinners speak harmoniously as one. And what is also notable is their reference to the stars that shine over earth now, the only reference to them until we come to the concluding line of the cantica (Inf. XXXIV.139), when Dante and Virgil see them once again.
Beginning with Daniello (who borrowed the notice from his teacher, Trifon Gabriele) commentators have remarked on the similarity of the sentiments expressed in their words 'when you shall rejoice in saying “I was there”' to Aeneas's words to his storm-tossed men (Aen. I.203): 'forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit' (perhaps one day it will be a joy to recall even such events as these).
When this group hurries off to rejoin their fellows (as did Brunetto his), the poet describes their flight as taking no more time than it takes to say 'Amen.' The detail also probably implies, as it were, an illicit prayer for them on Dante's part, as though the protagonist, in response to their kind words, accepted their prayer for his return to the world, and would like to offer one for them in return. In a sense, the poet's positive treatment of them in this canto is the fulfillment of that wish.
The sound of water heard in the opening lines of the canto (Inf. XVI.1-3) is now, since Dante and Virgil have descended the sloping sand toward the center of hell, much louder.
Dante, fond of the rivers of Italy as sources for poetic 'digressions,' describes the Acquacheta (its name means 'quiet water') as being joined by the Riodestro near its source in the Apennines, and then changing name (to 'Montone') at Forlì, before it flows into the Adriatic Sea just south of Ravenna without pouring first into the Po, the major river of the region. At its source at San Benedetto dell'Alpe, the meaning seems to be (and Petrocchi's text is much debated here), when the river was not in flood, forming the cascade referred to, it might have consisted in only a thousand rivulets. Phlegethon, descending into Cocytus, is here a waterfall resembling the Acquacheta in flood.
Perhaps mirroring the length of the river it describes, the simile here is the longest yet found in Inferno (the two closest challengers occur at Inf. III.112-120 and Inf. XV.4-12; but the thirteen cantos of Malebolge will at first equal and finally outdo any other area of the poem for length of simile: Inf. XXI.7-18; Inf. XXII.1-12; Inf. XXIV.1-18; Inf. XXVIII.7-21; and the 'champion,' Inf. XXX.1-27).
Dante's cord is now retrospectively added to the details of the scene in Inferno I (as the full moon will be added to that scene in Inf. XX.127-129). The cord has the function of holding his robes together, but symbolically may also reflect the cincture of one who attempts to 'gird his loins' and live right. For bibliography of various interpretations of the cord's significance see Roberto Mercuri (Semantica di Gerione [Rome: Bulzoni, 1984]), pp. 14n.-17n.
Over the years, some commentators have tried to make the case that the cord is that of a Franciscan garment, and that Dante was a member of the (lay) Third Order of Franciscans. This may be true (most doubt it), but the corda would offer no proof at all, since Dante knew the technical name for the cord that bound the garment of a Franciscan: the capestro (Inf. XXVII.92).
This passage is linked to the question of the identity of the three beasts encountered by Dante in Inferno I. See the note to vv. 32-54 of that canto.
Virgil pitches Dante's coiled-up cord into the abyss apparently as a challenge to a creature somewhere down there. The poet builds suspense for the apparition of that creature, whose appearance is delayed until the beginning of the next canto.
Does Virgil read Dante's thoughts or is he simply so sensitive to Dante's way of reacting to events that he can understand what his pupil must be thinking? For a convincing statement in support of the second thesis, with review of the various other passages in Inferno in which Virgil might seem to be claiming for himself the sort of intellective powers that Beatrice will possess (she does read the pilgrim's mind), see Musa, “Virgil Reads the Pilgrim's Mind,” Dante Studies 95 (1977), pp. 149-52.
The rhetorical energy increases as Dante swears to each of us, his readers, that he actually saw the creature he is about to describe. It is Geryon (only named at Inf. XVII.97, but see the note to Inf. XVII.1-3), as mythical a monster as one can find and, as Castelvetro complained in his commentary, in Dante's handling not even resemblant of any of the descriptions of him found in classical literature (again, see the note to XVII.1-3). In other words, Dante has put the veracity of the entire Comedy (here named for the first of only two times [the second occurs at Inf. XXI.2]) upon the reality of Geryon. Where such as Ferrucci (“Comedía,” Yearbook of Italian Studies 1 [1971], pp. 29-52) use the passage to argue that Dante here obviously admits that his poem is no 'historical' record of an 'actual' journey, Hollander (“Dante Theologus-Poeta,” Dante Studies 94 [1976]), pp. 111-12; 132-33, bases his countering argument in his perception that the ground for Dante's choice of the 'allegory of the theologians' for the Comedy lay in his battle with St. Thomas over the literal untruth of poetry; thus, according to him, Dante 'claims that his poem is literally true while tacitly admitting that he has made it all up' (p. 133). The difference between these two positions may seem slight, but is major, for one reads the poem differently according as one admits or denies the applicability of theological allegory to its making and to its understanding.
For Dante's distinctions between tragedy and comedy see the note to Inferno XX.106-114.
Guido da Pisa (comm. to XVI.124-126) suggests that there are four kinds of statements relating to truth and falsehood: there are those that (1) are both true and true-seeming ('I saw a lion eating a lamb'); (2) false and false-seeming ('I saw an ass fly'); (3) false yet true-seeming ('I saw Peter eating meat on Friday'); (4) true yet false-seeming ('I saw an ass who had killed a lion' – the latter event, Guido explains, once occurred in Florence). Boccaccio's discussion of the way in which true but false-seeming statements bring shame upon their speaker has it that 'those who hear them make fun of him and say that he is a terrible liar' (comm. to vv. 124-126) may also reveal the first Dante professor's knowing smile at his beloved Dante's outrageous claims for truth-telling. Had these commentators or Dante himself read Aristotle's Poetics, they all might have reflected upon Aristotle's advice – here not taken by Dante – to the playwright to avoid describing events that really have occurred if they in fact seem unlikely to have done so.
For one participant (Sperone Speroni) in the sixteenth-century debate over the nature of the truth purveyed in Dante's poem, see Stefano Jossa, “La 'verità' della Commedia. I Discorsi sopra Dante di Sperone Speroni,” Rivista di Studi Danteschi 1 (2001), pp. 221-41, a discussion based in a study by Bernard Weinberg, “The Quarrel over Dante,” in his A History of Literary Criticism, II (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961), pp. 819-911.
Frank Ordiway's article, 'Brunetto and Dante,' completed in draft ca. 1992 but still under revision, makes the point that Dante's phrase 'faccia di menzogna ' (face of falsehood) bears a striking resemblance to Brunetto's 'face de mençoigne' (Tresor II.lviii.17: 'La verités a maintes fois face de mençoigne, et mençoigne est couverte en semblance de verité'), as has now been noted by Emilio Pasquini, Dante e le figure del vero: La fabbrica della “Commedia” (Milan: Bruno Mondadori, 2001), p. 79.
The concluding simile asks the reader to imagine a detail that cannot be seen: 'something other hidden in the sea'; one might argue that precisely this inability to describe what cannot be seen marks the guarantee of Dante's 'realistic' descriptive narrative. Makers of 'fictions' operate under no such limit.
For Geryon as palombaro, that is, a man who releases anchors from the objects they attach to and then pulls himself back up to the surface by a cord thrown into the water with him, see Ignazio Baldelli (“Un errore lessicografico: 'palombaro' e Gerione palombaro,” in Omaggio a Gianfranco Folena [Padua: Editoriale Programma, 1993], pp. 243-49).
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