Purgatorio: Canto 3

1
2
3

Avvegna che la subitana fuga
dispergesse color per la campagna,
rivolti al monte ove ragion ne fruga,
4
5
6

i' mi ristrinsi a la fida compagna:
e come sare' io sanza lui corso?
chi m'avria tratto su per la montagna?
7
8
9

El mi parea da sé stesso rimorso:
o dignitosa coscïenza e netta,
come t'è picciol fallo amaro morso!
10
11
12

Quando li piedi suoi lasciar la fretta,
che l'onestade ad ogn' atto dismaga,
la mente mia, che prima era ristretta,
13
14
15

lo 'ntento rallargò, sì come vaga,
e diedi 'l viso mio incontr' al poggio
che 'nverso 'l ciel più alto si dislaga.
16
17
18

Lo sol, che dietro fiammeggiava roggio,
rotto m'era dinanzi a la figura,
ch'avëa in me de' suoi raggi l'appoggio.
19
20
21

Io mi volsi dallato con paura
d'essere abbandonato, quand' io vidi
solo dinanzi a me la terra oscura;
22
23
24

e 'l mio conforto: “Perché pur diffidi?”
a dir mi cominciò tutto rivolto;
“non credi tu me teco e ch'io ti guidi?
25
26
27

Vespero è già colà dov' è sepolto
lo corpo dentro al quale io facea ombra;
Napoli l'ha, e da Brandizio è tolto.
28
29
30

Ora, se innanzi a me nulla s'aombra,
non ti maravigliar più che d'i cieli
che l'uno a l'altro raggio non ingombra.
31
32
33

A sofferir tormenti, caldi e geli
simili corpi la Virtù dispone
che, come fa, non vuol ch'a noi si sveli.
34
35
36

Matto è chi spera che nostra ragione
possa trascorrer la infinita via
che tiene una sustanza in tre persone.
37
38
39

State contenti, umana gente, al quia;
ché, se potuto aveste veder tutto,
mestier non era parturir Maria;
40
41
42

e disïar vedeste sanza frutto
tai che sarebbe lor disio quetato,
ch'etternalmente è dato lor per lutto:
43
44
45

io dico d'Aristotile e di Plato
e di molt' altri”; e qui chinò la fronte,
e più non disse, e rimase turbato.
46
47
48

Noi divenimmo intanto a piè del monte;
quivi trovammo la roccia sì erta,
che 'ndarno vi sarien le gambe pronte.
49
50
51

Tra Lerice e Turbìa la più diserta,
la più rotta ruina è una scala,
verso di quella, agevole e aperta.
52
53
54

“Or chi sa da qual man la costa cala,”
disse 'l maestro mio fermando 'l passo,
“sì che possa salir chi va sanz' ala?”
55
56
57

E mentre ch'e' tenendo 'l viso basso
essaminava del cammin la mente,
e io mirava suso intorno al sasso,
58
59
60

da man sinistra m'apparì una gente
d'anime, che movieno i piè ver' noi,
e non pareva, sì venïan lente.
61
62
63

“Leva,” diss' io, “maestro, li occhi tuoi:
ecco di qua chi ne darà consiglio,
se tu da te medesmo aver nol puoi.”
64
65
66

Guardò allora, e con libero piglio
rispuose: “Andiamo in là, ch'ei vegnon piano;
e tu ferma la spene, dolce figlio.”
67
68
69

Ancora era quel popol di lontano,
i' dico dopo i nostri mille passi,
quanto un buon gittator trarria con mano,
70
71
72

quando si strinser tutti ai duri massi
de l'alta ripa, e stetter fermi e stretti
com' a guardar, chi va dubbiando, stassi.
73
74
75

“O ben finiti, o già spiriti eletti,”
Virgilio incominciò, “per quella pace
ch'i' credo che per voi tutti s'aspetti,
76
77
78

ditene dove la montagna giace,
sì che possibil sia l'andare in suso;
ché perder tempo a chi più sa più spiace.”
79
80
81

Come le pecorelle escon del chiuso
a una, a due, a tre, e l'altre stanno
timidette atterrando l'occhio e 'l muso;
82
83
84

e ciò che fa la prima, e l'altre fanno,
addossandosi a lei, s'ella s'arresta,
semplici e quete, e lo 'mperché non sanno:
85
86
87

sì vid' io muovere a venir la testa
di quella mandra fortunata allotta,
pudica in faccia e ne l'andare onesta.
88
89
90

Come color dinanzi vider rotta
la luce in terra dal mio destro canto,
sì che l'ombra era da me a la grotta,
91
92
93

restaro, e trasser sé in dietro alquanto,
e tutti li altri che venieno appresso,
non sappiendo 'l perché, fenno altrettanto.
94
95
96

“Sanza vostra domanda io vi confesso
che questo è corpo uman che voi vedete;
per che 'l lume del sole in terra è fesso.
97
98
99

Non vi maravigliate, ma credete
che non sanza virtù che da ciel vegna
cerchi di soverchiar questa parete.”
100
101
102

Così 'l maestro; e quella gente degna
“Tornate,” disse, “intrate innanzi dunque,”
coi dossi de la man faccendo insegna.
103
104
105

E un di loro incominciò: “Chiunque
tu se', così andando, volgi 'l viso:
pon mente se di là mi vedesti unque.”
106
107
108

Io mi volsi ver' lui e guardail fiso:
biondo era e bello e di gentile aspetto,
ma l'un de' cigli un colpo avea diviso.
109
110
111

Quand' io mi fui umilmente disdetto
d'averlo visto mai, el disse: “Or vedi”;
e mostrommi una piaga a sommo 'l petto.
112
113
114

Poi sorridendo disse: “Io son Manfredi,
nepote di Costanza imperadrice;
ond' io ti priego che, quando tu riedi,
115
116
117

vadi a mia bella figlia, genetrice
de l'onor di Cicilia e d'Aragona,
e dichi 'l vero a lei, s'altro si dice.
118
119
120

Poscia ch'io ebbi rotta la persona
di due punte mortali, io mi rendei,
piangendo, a quei che volontier perdona.
121
122
123

Orribil furon li peccati miei;
ma la bontà infinita ha sì gran braccia,
che prende ciò che si rivolge a lei.
124
125
126

Se 'l pastor di Cosenza, che a la caccia
di me fu messo per Clemente allora,
avesse in Dio ben letta questa faccia,
127
128
129

l'ossa del corpo mio sarieno ancora
in co del ponte presso a Benevento,
sotto la guardia de la grave mora.
130
131
132

Or le bagna la pioggia e move il vento
di fuor dal regno, quasi lungo 'l Verde,
dov' e' le trasmutò a lume spento.
133
134
135

Per lor maladizion sì non si perde,
che non possa tornar, l'etterno amore,
mentre che la speranza ha fior del verde.
136
137
138

Vero è che quale in contumacia more
di Santa Chiesa, ancor ch'al fin si penta,
star li convien da questa ripa in fore,
139
140
141

per ognun tempo ch'elli è stato, trenta,
in sua presunzïon, se tal decreto
più corto per buon prieghi non diventa.
142
143
144
145

Vedi oggimai se tu mi puoi far lieto,
revelando a la mia buona Costanza
come m'hai visto, e anco esto divieto;
ché qui per quei di là molto s'avanza.”
1
2
3

Inasmuch as the instantaneous flight
  Had scattered them asunder o'er the plain,
  Turned to the mountain whither reason spurs us,

4
5
6

I pressed me close unto my faithful comrade,
  And how without him had I kept my course?
  Who would have led me up along the mountain?

7
8
9

He seemed to me within himself remorseful;
  O noble conscience, and without a stain,
  How sharp a sting is trivial fault to thee!

10
11
12

After his feet had laid aside the haste
  Which mars the dignity of every act,
  My mind, that hitherto had been restrained,

13
14
15

Let loose its faculties as if delighted,
  And I my sight directed to the hill
  That highest tow'rds the heaven uplifts itself.

16
17
18

The sun, that in our rear was flaming red,
  Was broken in front of me into the figure
  Which had in me the stoppage of its rays;

19
20
21

Unto one side I turned me, with the fear
  Of being left alone, when I beheld
  Only in front of me the ground obscured.

22
23
24

"Why dost thou still mistrust?" my Comforter
  Began to say to me turned wholly round;
  "Dost thou not think me with thee, and that I guide thee?

25
26
27

'Tis evening there already where is buried
  The body within which I cast a shadow;
  'Tis from Brundusium ta'en, and Naples has it.

28
29
30

Now if in front of me no shadow fall,
  Marvel not at it more than at the heavens,
  Because one ray impedeth not another

31
32
33

To suffer torments, both of cold and heat,
  Bodies like this that Power provides, which wills
  That how it works be not unveiled to us.

34
35
36

Insane is he who hopeth that our reason
  Can traverse the illimitable way,
  Which the one Substance in three Persons follows!

37
38
39

Mortals, remain contented at the 'Quia;'
  For if ye had been able to see all,
  No need there were for Mary to give birth;

40
41
42

And ye have seen desiring without fruit,
  Those whose desire would have been quieted,
  Which evermore is given them for a grief.

43
44
45

I speak of Aristotle and of Plato,
  And many others;"—and here bowed his head,
  And more he said not, and remained disturbed.

46
47
48

We came meanwhile unto the mountain's foot;
  There so precipitate we found the rock,
  That nimble legs would there have been in vain.

49
50
51

'Twixt Lerici and Turbia, the most desert,
  The most secluded pathway is a stair
  Easy and open, if compared with that.

52
53
54

"Who knoweth now upon which hand the hill
  Slopes down," my Master said, his footsteps staying,
  "So that who goeth without wings may mount?"

55
56
57

And while he held his eyes upon the ground
  Examining the nature of the path,
  And I was looking up around the rock,

58
59
60

On the left hand appeared to me a throng
  Of souls, that moved their feet in our direction,
  And did not seem to move, they came so slowly.

61
62
63

"Lift up thine eyes," I to the Master said;
  "Behold, on this side, who will give us counsel,
  If thou of thine own self can have it not."

64
65
66

Then he looked at me, and with frank expression
  Replied: "Let us go there, for they come slowly,
  And thou be steadfast in thy hope, sweet son."

67
68
69

Still was that people as far off from us,
  After a thousand steps of ours I say,
  As a good thrower with his hand would reach,

70
71
72

When they all crowded unto the hard masses
  Of the high bank, and motionless stood and close,
  As he stands still to look who goes in doubt.

73
74
75

"O happy dead! O spirits elect already!"
  Virgilius made beginning, "by that peace
  Which I believe is waiting for you all,

76
77
78

Tell us upon what side the mountain slopes,
  So that the going up be possible,
  For to lose time irks him most who most knows."

79
80
81

As sheep come issuing forth from out the fold
  By ones and twos and threes, and the others stand
  Timidly, holding down their eyes and nostrils,

82
83
84

And what the foremost does the others do,
  Huddling themselves against her, if she stop,
  Simple and quiet and the wherefore know not;

85
86
87

So moving to approach us thereupon
  I saw the leader of that fortunate flock,
  Modest in face and dignified in gait.

88
89
90

As soon as those in the advance saw broken
  The light upon the ground at my right side,
  So that from me the shadow reached the rock,

91
92
93

They stopped, and backward drew themselves somewhat;
  And all the others, who came after them,
  Not knowing why nor wherefore, did the same.

94
95
96

"Without your asking, I confess to you
  This is a human body which you see,
  Whereby the sunshine on the ground is cleft.

97
98
99

Marvel ye not thereat, but be persuaded
  That not without a power which comes from Heaven
  Doth he endeavour to surmount this wall."

100
101
102

The Master thus; and said those worthy people:
  "Return ye then, and enter in before us,"
  Making a signal with the back o' the hand

103
104
105

And one of them began: "Whoe'er thou art,
  Thus going turn thine eyes, consider well
  If e'er thou saw me in the other world."

106
107
108

I turned me tow'rds him, and looked at him closely;
  Blond was he, beautiful, and of noble aspect,
  But one of his eyebrows had a blow divided.

109
110
111

When with humility I had disclaimed
  E'er having seen him, "Now behold!" he said,
  And showed me high upon his breast a wound.

112
113
114

Then said he with a smile: "I am Manfredi,
  The grandson of the Empress Costanza;
  Therefore, when thou returnest, I beseech thee

115
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117

Go to my daughter beautiful, the mother
  Of Sicily's honour and of Aragon's,
  And the truth tell her, if aught else be told.

118
119
120

After I had my body lacerated
  By these two mortal stabs, I gave myself
  Weeping to Him, who willingly doth pardon.

121
122
123

Horrible my iniquities had been;
  But Infinite Goodness hath such ample arms,
  That it receives whatever turns to it.

124
125
126

Had but Cosenza's pastor, who in chase
  Of me was sent by Clement at that time,
  In God read understandingly this page,

127
128
129

The bones of my dead body still would be
  At the bridge-head, near unto Benevento,
  Under the safeguard of the heavy cairn.

130
131
132

Now the rain bathes and moveth them the wind,
  Beyond the realm, almost beside the Verde,
  Where he transported them with tapers quenched.

133
134
135

By malison of theirs is not so lost
  Eternal Love, that it cannot return,
  So long as hope has anything of green.

136
137
138

True is it, who in contumacy dies
  Of Holy Church, though penitent at last,
  Must wait upon the outside this bank

139
140
141

Thirty times told the time that he has been
  In his presumption, unless such decree
  Shorter by means of righteous prayers become.

142
143
144
145

See now if thou hast power to make me happy,
  By making known unto my good Costanza
  How thou hast seen me, and this ban beside,
For those on earth can much advance us here."

Robert Hollander (English, 2000-2007)
1 - 6

The two 'companions' are running, but not as quickly as the souls who precede them, while Virgil considers his previous inappropriate behavior and Dante his own (as we shall learn in Purg. III.7-9 and III.12-13). The poet, as though apologizing for what he is putting Virgil through in these scenes, reminds the reader of his enduring debt to the pagan poet, without whom this journey through the afterworld would have been impossible.

The word 'ragione' in verse 3 does not mean 'reason' but 'justice,' as is attested by Dante's earlier usage in Convivio (where it nine times refers to law, especially Justinian's codification of Roman statutes – see Vasoli's analytical index to Convivio [Il Convivio, in Dante Alighieri, Opere minori, vol. I, part ii (Milan: Ricciardi, 1988)], pp. 1011-12), and the entire commentary tradition (even if a small subset of commentators believes the word here means 'conscience'). See also Marta Cristiani, 'ragione' (ED.1973.4), pp. 831-41, esp. p. 841. In this context it nearly certainly refers to divine justice.

7 - 9

Virgil's remorse is self-caused. As Venturi (comm. to verse 7) remarked, Virgil rebukes himself even though he could not have been a target of Cato's anger, since he was not a soul on the way to purgation. And thus the little fault applies to him alone, not to Dante and the others (for all of whom it is considerably more serious). Still, the attribution of the fault continues to cause a certain confusion. A fairly typical understanding, with an allegorizing bent, is found in Di Benedetto (“Simboli e moralità nel II canto del Purgatorio,” Giornale storico della letteratura italiana 162 [1985]), pp. 179-80: 'The picciol fallo is that of Virgil, who stands for Reason and thus for Dante himself.... The “trivial fault” is assigned to Dante and the other souls.' Pasquazi (“Catone,” Cultura e scuola 13-14 [1965]), p. 538, on the other hand, sees the phrase as referring to Virgil and not the others. Levitan (“Dante as Listener, Cato's Rebuke, and Virgil's Self-Reproach,” Dante Studies 103 [1985]), pp. 50-54, also notes the differing nature of the guilt afflicting Virgil, whose drama is not one of potential salvation, from that of Dante (and the other Christian souls, one is tempted to add). In this vein see also Hollander (“Purgatorio II: The New Song and the Old,” Lectura Dantis [virginiana] 6 [1990]), p. 40.

10 - 11

The image of Virgil looking somewhat foolish because he is running is the sort of detail one would expect to find in no other medieval poem.

Virgil, here momentarily lacking onestade (dignity), is bracketed by the figures of Cato and the group containing Manfred; both of these are referred to as onesto (Purg. II.119; Purg. III.87).

12 - 13

As Virgil is preoccupied with his minor failing, so Dante is troubled by his own guilty thoughts. Daniello (comm. to verse 12) points to Cato's rebuke (Purg. II.120-121) as the cause of his shame when he considers his hesitation in moving toward the necessary mountain.

15 - 15

The verb dislagarsi (literally meaning 'to unlake itself') is a Dantean coinage, a phenomenon that will grow as the poem progresses and flower in profusion in Paradiso.

16 - 18

Dante's presence here in the body is a double-edged proposition, as it both emphasizes his extraordinary state of grace in being here in the flesh and his debilitated status, resulting from his fleshly view of things. For a study of this phenomenon and its development through the cantica see Philip Berk (“Shadows on the Mount of Purgatory,” Dante Studies 97 [1979], pp. 47-63), who points out that, while we may feel that Dante in Purgatorio all too frequently presents himself as casting a shadow, he in fact does so only six times: here; later in this canto (Purg. III.88-90); then in Purgatorio V.4-6, V.25-27, XXVI.4-8; XXVII.64-69. Berk also makes the point that Dante's corporeal shadow finds a correspondence, later in the canto, in Manfred's wounds (vv. 108, 111), the signs of that soul's former mortality.

19 - 21

Having noted his own shadow, the protagonist now is struck by the absence of Virgil's, and momentarily thinks he has been abandoned by his guide. While, as soon as the travelers reached the shore of the mount of purgatory and reentered the sunlight, the protagonist might have noted that none of the immortal denizens of this new place casts a shadow – not Cato, none of the pilgrims, not his guide – the poet reserves that recognition for this canto, so filled with reminiscence of the death of Virgil.

22 - 24

Benvenuto da Imola's paraphrase of Virgil's rebuke begins with the words 'modicae fidei': ('you of little faith, why have you so easily lost the faith and the hope that you ought and may have in me, who never left you behind in the city of the demons?'). Benvenuto is clearly thinking of the words of Christ in the Gospels (in the Latin Bible the phrase 'modicae fidei' is found four times and only in Matthew [6:30; 8:26; 14:31; 16:8]). If Benvenuto has correctly heard that echo, its effect is noteworthy, for then the faithless Virgil is reproving his pupil, modeling his speech on the words of Christ, for his lack of faith, evident on occasion from the first canto of the Inferno until Virgil leaves the poem in Purgatorio XXX. Whether Virgil is citing Scripture or having Scripture placed in his mouth by his Christian author is a problem the reader has already encountered (see Inf. VIII.45 and the note to Inf. VIII.40-45).

25 - 26

Since it is shortly after dawn here in purgatory, it is shortly after sunset at the antipodes, Jerusalem. And since Italy, in Dante's geography, lies midway between Jerusalem and Gibraltar, it is sometime after 3pm there, as evening (vespero) begins with the sun's last quarter, between 3pm and 6pm.

27 - 27

Virgil died on 21 September 19 B.C. at Brindisi, a city in Apulia that still serves as a port for maritime travelers to and from Greece. Augustus was responsible for the transfer of his body from Brindisi to Naples, or actually, Pozzuoli, some ten miles distant, where it was interred in a grotto in the vast tunnel, built by the ancient Romans, connecting Pozzuoli and the road to Naples. John of Serravalle (comm. to vv. 25-27) records his having visited the site on 30 August 1413 and having held bones of Virgil in his hands. This passage begins what has been called 'an antepurgatorial preoccupation with the body and its place of burial' (by Denise Heilbronn, “Dante's Valley of the Princes,” Dante Studies 90 [1972], p. 44). Selene Sarteschi (“Riflessioni sul canto di Manfredi,” in her Per la “Commedia” e non per essa soltanto [Rome: Bulzoni, 2002 (1999)]), p. 246n., points out that the four presences of the word corpo in this canto represent the word's greatest frequency in any canto of the poem, thus underlining the importance of corporeal concerns with respect to Virgil, Dante, and Manfred.

Pietro di Dante (Pietro1, comm. to vv. 25-27) was perhaps the first to cite Virgil's versified epitaph, as found in the Vitae of Virgil by Suetonius and Donatus:


Mantua me genuit, Calabri rapuere, tenet nunc
Parthenope: cecini pascua, rura, duces.

[Mantua gave me birth, Calabria took me off; now Naples holds me; I sang of pastures, fields, and kings.]

Pietro was followed, among the early commentators, by Benvenuto da Imola (comm. ad loc.) and by John of Serravalle (comm. Purg. VI.67-75).

Virgil 'sang' his Eclogues, Georgics, and Aeneid. For the possible reference to the three Virgilian subjects in the final hundred verses of the canto, see Hollander (“Dante's 'Georgic' [Inferno XXIV, 1-18],” Dante Studies 102 [1984]), p. 114:


46-78: the barren landscape of this scene (rura)
79-102: the contumacious as sheep (pascua)
103-145: Manfred and empire (duces)

In this experimental formulation Dante would, in exactly one hundred lines, have deployed the three 'spokes' of the stylistic rota Vergilii (the wheel of Virgil).

Carroll (comm. to Purg. III.19-33) cites Plumptre for the opinion that this scene reflects the (unverified) tradition that St. Paul visited Virgil's grave at Naples and wept for the great poet, whom, had he but known him, he might have led to salvation.

28 - 30

Dante's heavens include the nine celestial spheres containing the Moon and, as they move higher, eventually no stellar bodies of any kind (the Primum mobile). In Paradiso we will learn that, while they are material, they are also translucent. Something similar is also the case with respect to the shades here.

31 - 33

Virgil here touches on the nature of the 'aerial bodies' of the dead in hell and purgatory. The Roman poet Statius will elaborate on the 'physical' nature of shades in Purgatorio XXV.34-108.

34 - 36

The 'posthumous Christian' ruefully acknowledges, by pointing to reason as his means for attempting to know the essence of things, his failure to have had faith. The reference to reason does not indicate, as some commentators insist, that Virgil embodies or personifies Reason, especially since, in this context, Reason would then be commenting on the shortcomings of reason. Reason is a property (or, in Scholastic terms, an 'accident') of the Roman poet, not his essence.

37 - 37

The quia is a term deriving from Scholastic discourse. Benvenuto da Imola's paraphrase (comm. to vv. 37-39) nicely conveys both that style and precisely what is meant here: 'sufficiat vobis credere quia sic est, et non quaerere propter quid est' (let it suffice you to believe that something is so, without seeking to know why it is so), i.e., to accept things as they are, without attempting to understand their causes.

38 - 39

Some commentators (e.g., Benvenuto) are of the opinion that these lines indicate that had humankind been able to know the final mysteries, Adam and Eve would not have fallen and Christ would not have been needed to save us. It seems far more likely that Dante's thought is more logically connected than such an analysis would indicate: had we known all, there would have been no need for Christ to come to bring us the final truth of things. The focus here is not moral so much as it is intellectual.

40 - 45

Perhaps there is no passage in the poem that more clearly delineates the tragedy of Virgil, now studied by its protagonist himself. His own fourth Eclogue, which spoke of a virgin who would give birth to a son, but did not mean Mary and did not mean Jesus, is symptomatic of how near he came and thus how great was his failure, a result here addressed in an unspoken gesture – his lowering his head – that swells with unshed tears. In the last canto, the newly arrived pilgrims looked up with hope ('la nova gente alzò la fronte' [the new people raised their faces]). The words describing Virgil's silence echo key words from that passage in a contrastive spirit (as noted by Hollander, “Purgatorio II: The New Song and the Old,” Lectura Dantis [virginiana] 6 [1990], p. 36): 'e qui chinò la fronte, / e più non disse, e rimase turbato' [and here he lowered his brow, said nothing more, and seemed disturbed]. As Benvenuto (comm. to vv. 43-45) would have it, it is as though Virgil were saying: 'And woe is me, I was among their number.'

The words in rhyme position in these two tercets underline their message:


Maria quetato
quia Plato
via turbato

One way leads up through faith to Christian truth, mediated by the mortal woman who gave birth to God in the flesh, the other down from this potential happiness, through rational attempts to know the rationally unknowable, to everlasting unhappiness. Mary and Plato are here the very emblems of the choices that we humans face.

46 - 48

There is a sharp dividing line between the elegiac passage devoted to Virgil's consideration of his failure (Purg. III.22-45) and the scene that begins here, with the description of the sheer wall of the mountain and the first attempt at an ascent. For an appreciation of the nonetheless unitary nature of this canto as a whole, see Walther Binni (“Lettura del canto III del Purgatorio,” in his Ancora con Dante [Ravenna: Longo, 1983 (1955)]), p. 9.

49 - 51

Lerici and Turbia are settlements at either end of the Ligurian coast, to either side of Genoa, a region marked by rugged mountains sloping to the sea and, in Dante's roadless day, difficult of access.

52 - 57

Virgil's question and attitude reveal a guide who has not taken this trip previously, as he had in Inferno. Further, while he falls back on the resource of his reason, the futility of which in certain situations has just been explored by the guide himself, his pupil, like the arriving penitents in the last canto (see the note to Purg. III.40-45), does the intuitive and hopeful thing: he looks up.

58 - 60

Having begun their attempt to ascend, Virgil and Dante begin moving leftward out of habit, we must assume. (They will only learn what direction they should be moving in at verse 101.) Our first glimpse of the souls of ante-purgatory marks them as unexcited and slow-moving, attributes that will gain in meaning when we learn more about them.

For helpful references to Classical discussions of the morally charged nature of the directions of human movement (right, up, and ahead are all 'good'; left, down, and behind are all 'bad') see Giorgio Stabile (“Cosmologia e teologia nella Commedia: la caduta di Lucifero e il rovesciamento del mondo,” Letture classensi 12 [1983]), pp. 145-49.

Purgatorio is traditionally divided into three areas: ante-purgatorio, made up of two major zones, Excommunication and Late Repentance (the latter divided into three sub-divisions, containing those dying unabsolved, those marked by negligence, and those who loved the world too much); purgatorio itself (divided into seven terraces, each of which represents one of the Seven Capital Vices), and the earthly paradise at the summit of the mountain. (These divisions and the first naming of 'ante-purgatory' are found in Benvenuto [introductory note to Purg. I].) Thus, like Inferno and Paradiso, Purgatorio is divided into ten large 'parts' (in Inferno Neutrality, lack of faith (Limbo), Lust, Gluttony, Avarice, Anger, Heresy, Violence, Fraud, Treachery; in Paradiso the nine heavens and the Empyrean). However, for another view of the divisions of Purgatorio, see Victoria Kirkham (“I quindici gradi del regno di Catone,” in Letteratura italiana e arti figurative: Atti del XII Convegno dell'Associazione Internazionale per gli Studi di Lingua e Letteratura Italiana [Toronto, Hamilton, Montreal, 6-10 maggio 1985], ed. Antonio Franceschetti [Florence: Olschki, 1988], vol. I, pp. 229-36). Arguing from the Christian numerological tradition that makes fifteen the number of the spiritual ascent to God, she attempts to demonstrate that the second cantica is meaningfully divided into fifteen 'steps.' Her argument depends on an accountancy that may not seem convincing: there are four kinds of negligence, three kinds of pride, and, among the final six terraces, two that are 'double' (avarice and prodigality; heterosexual and homosexual lust), thus yielding a total of fifteen. Further, one might object that this numbering omits both the first and last destinations of the penitent saved soul, 'pre-ante-purgatory,' where such as Casella await the journey to the antipodes (Purg. II.94-105), and the earthly paradise (Purg. XXVIII-XXXIII), which for Kirkham obviously serves as destination rather than stage on the way to spiritual awareness, which is, however, surely to be found in the Empyrean, not in the earthly paradise itself. One probably ends up wondering whether Dante's text itself invites his reader to enumerate the parts of the cantica in this way.

61 - 63

Underlining the difference between the guide's and the protagonist's ways of proceeding, Dante's remark, urging Virgil to look up, intrinsically reveals a reversal of roles, as was noted by Margherita Frankel (“La similitudine della zara [Purg. VI, 1-12] ed il rapporto fra Dante e Virgilio nell'Antepurgatorio,” in Studi Americani su Dante, ed. G. C. Alessio and R. Hollander [Milan: F. Angeli, 1989]), pp. 120-21. It is not the master who is giving instructions but the pupil; throughout the little scene that follows one can sense Virgil's effort to regain his attenuated authority.

72 - 72

The souls are puzzled by what they see, two figures moving in the wrong direction (to the left) on this holy mountain, as Benvenuto da Imola was perhaps first to suggest. Not only are they going in the wrong direction, they are also moving quickly, not at the reverential and thoughtful pace of penitence.

73 - 78

Virgil's captatio benevolentiae (the attempt to capture the goodwill of one's auditors) here, like the one he addressed to Cato in the first canto (Purg. I.70-84), reveals, as Margherita Frankel has been perhaps alone in arguing (“La similitudine della zara [Purg. VI, 1-12] ed il rapporto fra Dante e Virgilio nell'Antepurgatorio,” in Studi Americani su Dante, ed. G. C. Alessio and R. Hollander [Milan: F. Angeli, 1989], pp. 122-24), another example of his not understanding his own limitations. His epigrammatic concluding utterance, though taken in bono by commentator after commentator (and perhaps most pleasingly in the commentary of Benvenuto [to these verses], who goes on to claim that Dante himself was most prudent in using his time, so that he managed to get his Commedia finished before he died), shows him once again getting things a bit garbled. The self-assured turn of phrase, 'The more we know, the more we hate time's waste,' indicates that he is still without understanding of the positive aspects of not knowing, of not hurrying – two aspects of the saved souls whom he addresses that, as the following simile will make unmistakably clear, are praiseworthy in the Christian context of this scene.

79 - 87

The sole extended comparison of the canto centers attention on the need for faith untroubled by reason. These sheep, following and imitating their bellwether, are presented positively for their humility and faithfulness. See Richard Lansing (From Image to Idea: A Study of the Simile in Dante's “Commedia” [Ravenna: Longo, 1977]), pp. 47-53, for a discussion of this simile, contrasting the humility exemplified here in Manfred (whom we shall soon come to understand is the 'bellwether' in the simile), whose life was marked by the opposite vice, presumption, in his opposition to the Church. In one of his typical outbursts against his intellectual enemies in Convivio, Dante calls them stupid and compares them to sheep (Conv. I.xi.9-10), those sheep that follow their leader in jumping into a ravine a mile deep (is that phrasing, 'mille passi,' remembered in the same phrase at verse 68, above? Frankel [“La similitudine della zara (Purg. VI, 1-12) ed il rapporto fra Dante e Virgilio nell'Antepurgatorio,” in Studi Americani su Dante, ed. G. C. Alessio and R. Hollander (Milan: F. Angeli, 1989)], p. 124, is of that opinion). Citation of this passage in Convivio was perhaps first brought into play by Daniello (comm. to vv.79-84), but it is only recently that readers have begun to understand that the ovine images in this simile work against the assertion found in the Convivial outburst. Its prideful, even presumptuous, tone is here countermanded by the poet's better understanding of the virtues of sheep, as the arrogance of prideful philosophizing gives way to Christian piety.

In his commentary to this passage, Singleton notes the appropriateness of the 77th Psalm (77:52 [78:52]), recapitulating the Exodus with these words: 'But [God] made his own people go forth like sheep, and guided them in the wilderness like a flock.' It seems clear that such traditional Judeo-Christian images of the flock of the just govern this simile.

93 - 93

If we had not sensed the importance of humble acts committed by those 'not knowing why' in Purgatorio III.84, the fact that the souls, now described directly, repeat what had been done within the simile reinforces the importance of the point. Denise Heilbronn (“Dante's Valley of the Princes,” Dante Studies 90 [1972]), p. 45, typifies the spirit of the portrayals of the souls in ante-purgatory as follows: 'These souls are suspended in a limbo different from Virgil's. Not quite detached from the place they have left, they are on the right road yet cannot move; not quite sure where they are headed, they are poised between memory and anticipation.'

94 - 96

For Dante's shadow, see the note to Purgatorio III.16-18.

101 - 102

The saved souls now express their concern: Dante and Virgil are heading in the wrong direction (see Margherita Frankel, “La similitudine della zara (Purg. VI, 1-12) ed il rapporto fra Dante e Virgilio nell'Antepurgatorio,” in Studi Americani su Dante, ed. G. C. Alessio and R. Hollander [Milan: F. Angeli, 1989], pp. 121-22). They are thus aesthetically and morally disturbing as newcomers to purgatory. They seem obviously entitled to be present but somehow not to have gotten their copy of this club's booklet describing Proper Conduct for Members.

The gesture that they make is puzzling to American readers, who give the sign for 'stop!' or 'go back!' by extending their palms outward. As Lombardi (comm. to verse 102) calmly points out, 'The gesture referred to here by the poet is exactly the one with which we signal to others that they should turn and retrace their steps.' Experience on Tuscan streets and paths even today will verify this.

103 - 105

Manfred died (February 1266) some eight or nine months after Dante was born. His question is thus groundless, notwithstanding the exertions of commentators like Tommaseo (comm. to these verses), Andreoli (comm. to verse 105), and Poletto (to these verses) who argue that Dante, as a deeply thoughtful man, looked old for his age. The utterly human perception that lies behind the poet's lending Manfred this question is that the great and famous are used to being recognized, and often assume that everybody has seen them, even if they themselves tend to have small recollection of the many whom they have encountered. On the other hand, his question may also be a hopeful one, i.e., if this living soul happens to recognize him, Manfred hopes that he will cause others to pray for him – see Purgatorio V.49-50, where other late-repentant souls make similar requests.

107 - 108

The 'realism' of the detail of this scarred eyebrow has drawn much admiration. Singleton's comment (comm. to this verse) cites Augustine, De civ. Dei XXII.xix.3: 'For, in the martyrs, such wounds will not be a deformity; they will have a dignity and loveliness all their own; and, though this radiance will be spiritual and not physical, it will, in some way, beam from their bodies.' He goes on to suggest that Manfred, though excommunicated by the Church, nonetheless is treated here as a sort of martyr, 'persecuted' by that very Church.

Having once seen John Fitzgerald Kennedy standing in a convertible moving up Fifth Avenue on a magnificent sun-filled autumn afternoon in October of 1960, shortly before he was elected president of his country, his shock of red-blond hair dazzling in the sunlight, the writer cannot read this passage without remembering that other handsome, womanizing, self-confident leader who would also die wounded in the head.

For a Biblical passage that Dante possibly had in mind as he described Manfred, see Grandgent (comm. to verse 107): 'Cf. 1 Samuel 16:12: “Now he [David] was ruddy, and withal of a beautiful countenance and goodly to look at.”' Manfred's resemblance to David has been reasserted by various later commentators. Bosco/Reggio (comm. to vv. 106-120) add a similar description of Roland in the Chanson de Roland (verse 2278: 'Bels fut e forz e de grant vasselage'). John Freccero (Dante: The Poetics of Conversion, ed. Rachel Jacoff [Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1986]), pp. 206-7, sees a resemblance to the similarly handsome and ill-fated Marcellus (Aen. VI.860-885). However, the literal context does not seem to support this analogy and it may be more appropriate to consider another Virgilian antecedent to Manfred, the tragic figure of Deiphobus (Aen. VI.495-499), who attempts to hide his wounds from Aeneas, his mangled ears and his nose ('truncas inhonesto volnere naris' [his nostrils laid bare by a shameful wound – Aen. VI.498]). Deiphobus, desiring not to be recognized by his wounds, is, in this understanding, a foil to Manfred, eager to display the wound in his chest. Perhaps the first commentator to note this correspondence was Mattalia (comm. to verse 111); and see Hollander (“Dante's 'Georgic' [Inferno XXIV, 1-18],” Dante Studies 102 [1984]), p. 119.

111 - 111

Manfred's second wound (the poet will insist on the importance of the fact that he has two visible wounds in verse 119), perhaps reminiscent of the wound in Christ's side (John 19:34; 20:25), causes the reader to consider the possible significances of these two marks on his body. Perhaps we are to understand that the first wound, in his brow, traditionally and in Dante the locus of pride (see Inf. X.45 and the note to Inf. X.45; Inf. XXXIV.35 and the note to Inf. XXXIV.35), is the sign of his pride brought low, his mark of Cain, as it were, now made good in his gesture of revealing his other wound, his mark of Christ, the seal of his humility. Torraca (comm. to vv. 109-111) is nearly alone in seeing the resemblance, antithetic though it be, between the gestures of self-revelation in displaying wounds found in Manfred here and in Mohammed (Inf. XXVIII.29-31); and see the similar appreciation in Denise Heilbronn (“Dante's Valley of the Princes,” Dante Studies 90 [1972]), p. 43.

112 - 112

Manfred's smile is part of a 'program' of smiling found in the two final cantiche (see the note to Purg. II.83). His way of naming himself seems to be part of a program limited to the ante-purgatory, the only part of the poem in which characters name themselves using this formula ('io son' followed by their own name). Manfred's smiling self-identification stands out from the evasive behavior in this regard exhibited by most of the sinners in hell. For the others who employ this formula see Purgatorio V.88 (Buonconte da Montefeltro), Purgatorio VI.34 (Sordello), Purgatorio VII.7 (Virgil). In the less personal exchanges in Paradiso only St. Bonaventure uses a version of it: 'Io son la vita di Bonaventura...' (Par. XII.127). There the great Franciscan identifies himself as a living heavenly soul.

Born ca. 1231, Manfred was the illegitimate son of the emperor Frederick II and Bianca Lancia, and thus the natural grandson of Emperor Henry VI and Constance of Sicily. He was also the father, by his wife Beatrice of Savoy, of Constance, who married King Peter III of Aragon (see Purg. III.115-116). When Frederick died in 1250, Manfred was appointed regent of Sicily in the absence of his brother, Conrad IV, involved elsewhere. When Conrad died, in 1254, leaving the realm to his three-year-old son, Conradin, Manfred again became regent. At the rumors of the child's death, in 1258 (he would in fact survive another ten years), Manfred was crowned king in Palermo. This did not sit well with the pope, and Alexander IV excommunicated him in 1258, as did Urban IV in 1261. Urban offered the vacated forfeited crown to Louis IX of France who, refusing it, opened the path to an invitation of Charles of Anjou, who accepted. Once Charles was crowned in Rome in January 1266, he set out to destroy Manfred, an aim that he accomplished the next month at the battle of Benevento. A lover of the 'good life' at court, a fervent Ghibelline, a man charged (whether correctly or not) with a number of murders of his cofamiliars, supposedly undertaken to advance his political hopes, Manfred was not, at least not in Guelph eyes, a selection for salvation that could have been calculated to win sympathy to the work that contained such news. It is at least reasonable to believe that the first damned soul we see in hell is Celestine V (see the note to Inf. III.58-60), a pope of saintly habits; here the first soul we find saved on the mountain is the excommunicated Manfred. Whatever else Dante enjoyed doing as he wrote this poem, he clearly delighted in shocking his readers – as though the salvation of Cato, with which the cantica begins, were not incredible enough for us.

On the problems raised for commentators by the salvation of the excommunicated Manfred see Louis La Favia (“Per una reinterpretazione dell'episodio di Manfredi,” Dante Studies 91 [1973]), who points out that a letter of Pope Innocent III dating from 1199 fully supports the notion that an excommunicate can eventually be saved, a position, as he demonstrates, that was not nearly as shocking to Dante's earliest readers as it would later become. La Favia produces the key portion of that Latin text (pp. 87-88).

113 - 113

Manfred does not identify himself as his father's son (Frederick II is, after all, condemned to hell for heresy: Inf. X.119) but by reference to his paternal grandmother, Constance (1154-98), daughter of Roger II, king of Sicily, and wife of Emperor Henry VI, by whom she became the mother of Frederick. As Benvenuto uniquely (among the early commentators) points out, Dante has borrowed this tactic from Polynices who, questioned about his lineage by the king of Argos, Adrastus, in Statius's Thebaid, prefers to omit the name of Oedipus in favor of that of his mother, Jocasta (Theb. I.676-681). Porena (comm. to vv. 112-113) notes that Dante himself had remembered this scene in Convivio (Conv. IV.xxx.10), laying the avoidance on Polynices' part both to his desire to omit reference to his own harsh actions against his father as well as to keep concealed Oedipus's evil deeds. Hermann Gmelin (Kommentar: der Läuterungsberg [Stuttgart: Klett, 1955]), p. 79, offers further discussion.

117 - 117

The poet's self-awareness is unmistakable here. Hardly anyone in his time would have consented to the notion that Manfred had been saved. He places this reference to the imagined dubiety of those who might hear such news (i.e., by reading Dante's poem) in the mouth of his character and it is our turn to smile. Yet we can imagine how many Guelphs and churchmen would have fumed at this passage, adamant in their vehement and unflagging belief that Manfred had been damned.

121 - 123

The sinners in hell, we must assume, failed exactly to do, even at the last moment of their lives, what Manfred did. While he is held back from purgation for the insubordination that resulted in his excommunication, he, too, is a late-repentant saved soul.

124 - 129

The archbishop of Cosenza, in Calabria, enlisted by Pope Clement IV in his battles against Manfred's Ghibellines, was responsible, at the end, for disinterring his corpse, buried under the cairn of stones piled upon his body by Guelph troops after the battle of Benevento.

There is some dispute as to the precise meaning of the word faccia here. Does it mean 'face' or 'page'? For the former, see Freccero (Dante: The Poetics of Conversion, ed. Rachel Jacoff [Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1986]), p. 206. For 'faccia' as page, see Frankel (“Dante's Anti-Virgilian villanello,” Dante Studies 102 [1984]), p. 107. The page in God's writing indicated here is perhaps found at Revelation 20:12, the reference to the Book of Life, in which are recorded the names of the saved, including, we must reflect, that of Manfred. Further, three particulars lend support to those who argue for 'page,' faccia as an apocopation of facciata: (1) While most of the early commentators are vague in their readings of this verse, those who wrote in the Renaissance and after tend to find this interpretation more natural; (2) modern commentators mainly prefer 'face,' if without the sort of convincing argument that might conclude the debate; (3) the archbishop of Cosenza, we might reflect, obviously had no direct experience of God's presence (at least not in Dante's mind), but he surely did have some kind of access to the Scripture, although he evidently – at least in Dante's eyes – understood it poorly.

130 - 130

In the wake Tommaseo (comm. to vv. 130-132) many modern commentators suggest that there is a reference here to Virgil's Palinurus (Aen. VI.362): 'Nunc me fluctus habet versantque in litore venti' (Now the waves have me and the winds hurl me onto the beach). See the notes to Purgatorio V.91-93 and VI.28-33.

131 - 135

Adding insult to the injury of disinterment, the archbishop ordered Manfred's remains to be cast back into the world. They had first at least been allowed burial in unconsecrated ground with the ceremony prescribed for the excommunicate ('with torches quenched'). And so the corpse is put out of the Kingdom of Naples and Sicily onto a bank of the river Verde, today the Liri.

The name of the river, Verde (green), however, stands intrinsically opposed to such purpose, since it both traditionally represents the virtue of hope and happens to have been the color that Manfred himself favored. And thus the identical rhyme 'Verde/verde' underlines the hopeful sign that Manfred's faith believed would come and his love longed for. The Church's human agents may not understand God's hidden disposition.

The final phrase here, 'ha fior del verde,' has caused much difficulty. Lombardi (comm. to verse 135) paraphrases the passage as follows: 'so long as death does not entirely dry up hope, but leaves a single thread of it green.' The spirit of comedy in this canto overcomes the atmosphere of tragedy. We might reflect that this is the first true narrative of the Purgatorio (neither Cato nor Casella gives the sort of perfectly formed autobiographical performance to which we have become accustomed in Inferno). The first cantica has trained us to expect “tragedy,” the tale told, from the sinner's point of view, of death and damnation. Unconsciously, we may expect exactly that sort of narrative here. And it surely seems to be similar, with its story of horrific death and undignified burial; yet here we find the tragic surmounted by the comic resolution offered by redemption. Thus Manfred's narrative is set as a pattern for all those we shall hear in Purgatory. For a discussion of Manfred's narrative as tragic in tone and comic in result, see Selene Sarteschi (“Riflessioni sul canto di Manfredi,” in her Per la “Commedia” e non per essa soltanto [Rome: Bulzoni, 2002 (1999)]), p. 237.

139 - 139

For a possible precursor for this period of delay, see Aeneid VI.325-30, the one hundred years of wandering exacted of the souls of the unburied dead before they are permitted to cross Acheron, a connection perhaps first suggested by Daniello (comm. to vv. 136-141). But this does not explain Dante's choice of the number thirty. It is not until the twentieth century that one finds a commentator wondering about the possible reasons for this choice: Grandgent (comm. to this verse): 'Why thirty? See E. G. Gardner in the Modern Language Review, IX, 63. In Deuteronomy 34:8, we read: “the children of Israel wept for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days. Hence the early Christian practice of saying prayers for the dead for thirty days after decease. Out of this grew the ”Trental of St. Gregory,“ or thirty masses on thirty feast days through the year.' Trucchi (comm. to vv. 136-141) resuscitates a previously unnoted observation of Francesco da Buti, recalling the tale told by Gregory the Great in his Dialogues: the ghost of a monk named Justus who, buried excommunicate for having fathered children, was redeemed when thirty masses said by Gregory set things right. Another analogue, offered by a Princeton student, Gerald Dal Pan '82, in an examination paper in 1980, is worthy of discussion: the thirty years of Jesus's life before he was baptized and entered by the Holy Spirit, when He took on his mission in the world (Luke 3:25).

Torraca (comm. to vv. 136-139) suggests that Manfred lived nine years under the ban of excommunication and thus had a sentence of 270 years in ante-purgatory when he died in 1266, thus leaving him 236 years to wait before commencing his purgation. However, since Dante's poem surely brought a storm of prayers to Heaven, he may have finished his penitential waiting much earlier than that.

143 - 143

The third cantos of both Purgatorio and Paradiso are centrally involved with two women known as 'Constance,' here the grandmother and daughter of Manfred, there Piccarda Donati, whose name as a nun was Constance, and the other Constance, also a nun, who accompanies her when the two of them appear to Dante in the sphere of the Moon. It is perhaps worth considering that Inferno III, in which the wavering neutrals are depicted, involves those who were, most decidedly, inconstant. See Isidore of Seville, Etymologies X.40: 'Constans dictus quod undique stat, nec in aliquam partem declinari potest' (One is said to be constant because, wherever he takes his stand, he cannot be diverted in another direction). In this tentative hypothesis all three third cantos would thus be linked by their thematic concern with constancy.

For bibliography of discussions of this canto see Luigi Scorrano (”Dall'abbandono alla bontà riconquistata [Purgatorio III],“ L'Alighieri 16 [2000]), pp. 69-71.

Purgatorio: Canto 3

1
2
3

Avvegna che la subitana fuga
dispergesse color per la campagna,
rivolti al monte ove ragion ne fruga,
4
5
6

i' mi ristrinsi a la fida compagna:
e come sare' io sanza lui corso?
chi m'avria tratto su per la montagna?
7
8
9

El mi parea da sé stesso rimorso:
o dignitosa coscïenza e netta,
come t'è picciol fallo amaro morso!
10
11
12

Quando li piedi suoi lasciar la fretta,
che l'onestade ad ogn' atto dismaga,
la mente mia, che prima era ristretta,
13
14
15

lo 'ntento rallargò, sì come vaga,
e diedi 'l viso mio incontr' al poggio
che 'nverso 'l ciel più alto si dislaga.
16
17
18

Lo sol, che dietro fiammeggiava roggio,
rotto m'era dinanzi a la figura,
ch'avëa in me de' suoi raggi l'appoggio.
19
20
21

Io mi volsi dallato con paura
d'essere abbandonato, quand' io vidi
solo dinanzi a me la terra oscura;
22
23
24

e 'l mio conforto: “Perché pur diffidi?”
a dir mi cominciò tutto rivolto;
“non credi tu me teco e ch'io ti guidi?
25
26
27

Vespero è già colà dov' è sepolto
lo corpo dentro al quale io facea ombra;
Napoli l'ha, e da Brandizio è tolto.
28
29
30

Ora, se innanzi a me nulla s'aombra,
non ti maravigliar più che d'i cieli
che l'uno a l'altro raggio non ingombra.
31
32
33

A sofferir tormenti, caldi e geli
simili corpi la Virtù dispone
che, come fa, non vuol ch'a noi si sveli.
34
35
36

Matto è chi spera che nostra ragione
possa trascorrer la infinita via
che tiene una sustanza in tre persone.
37
38
39

State contenti, umana gente, al quia;
ché, se potuto aveste veder tutto,
mestier non era parturir Maria;
40
41
42

e disïar vedeste sanza frutto
tai che sarebbe lor disio quetato,
ch'etternalmente è dato lor per lutto:
43
44
45

io dico d'Aristotile e di Plato
e di molt' altri”; e qui chinò la fronte,
e più non disse, e rimase turbato.
46
47
48

Noi divenimmo intanto a piè del monte;
quivi trovammo la roccia sì erta,
che 'ndarno vi sarien le gambe pronte.
49
50
51

Tra Lerice e Turbìa la più diserta,
la più rotta ruina è una scala,
verso di quella, agevole e aperta.
52
53
54

“Or chi sa da qual man la costa cala,”
disse 'l maestro mio fermando 'l passo,
“sì che possa salir chi va sanz' ala?”
55
56
57

E mentre ch'e' tenendo 'l viso basso
essaminava del cammin la mente,
e io mirava suso intorno al sasso,
58
59
60

da man sinistra m'apparì una gente
d'anime, che movieno i piè ver' noi,
e non pareva, sì venïan lente.
61
62
63

“Leva,” diss' io, “maestro, li occhi tuoi:
ecco di qua chi ne darà consiglio,
se tu da te medesmo aver nol puoi.”
64
65
66

Guardò allora, e con libero piglio
rispuose: “Andiamo in là, ch'ei vegnon piano;
e tu ferma la spene, dolce figlio.”
67
68
69

Ancora era quel popol di lontano,
i' dico dopo i nostri mille passi,
quanto un buon gittator trarria con mano,
70
71
72

quando si strinser tutti ai duri massi
de l'alta ripa, e stetter fermi e stretti
com' a guardar, chi va dubbiando, stassi.
73
74
75

“O ben finiti, o già spiriti eletti,”
Virgilio incominciò, “per quella pace
ch'i' credo che per voi tutti s'aspetti,
76
77
78

ditene dove la montagna giace,
sì che possibil sia l'andare in suso;
ché perder tempo a chi più sa più spiace.”
79
80
81

Come le pecorelle escon del chiuso
a una, a due, a tre, e l'altre stanno
timidette atterrando l'occhio e 'l muso;
82
83
84

e ciò che fa la prima, e l'altre fanno,
addossandosi a lei, s'ella s'arresta,
semplici e quete, e lo 'mperché non sanno:
85
86
87

sì vid' io muovere a venir la testa
di quella mandra fortunata allotta,
pudica in faccia e ne l'andare onesta.
88
89
90

Come color dinanzi vider rotta
la luce in terra dal mio destro canto,
sì che l'ombra era da me a la grotta,
91
92
93

restaro, e trasser sé in dietro alquanto,
e tutti li altri che venieno appresso,
non sappiendo 'l perché, fenno altrettanto.
94
95
96

“Sanza vostra domanda io vi confesso
che questo è corpo uman che voi vedete;
per che 'l lume del sole in terra è fesso.
97
98
99

Non vi maravigliate, ma credete
che non sanza virtù che da ciel vegna
cerchi di soverchiar questa parete.”
100
101
102

Così 'l maestro; e quella gente degna
“Tornate,” disse, “intrate innanzi dunque,”
coi dossi de la man faccendo insegna.
103
104
105

E un di loro incominciò: “Chiunque
tu se', così andando, volgi 'l viso:
pon mente se di là mi vedesti unque.”
106
107
108

Io mi volsi ver' lui e guardail fiso:
biondo era e bello e di gentile aspetto,
ma l'un de' cigli un colpo avea diviso.
109
110
111

Quand' io mi fui umilmente disdetto
d'averlo visto mai, el disse: “Or vedi”;
e mostrommi una piaga a sommo 'l petto.
112
113
114

Poi sorridendo disse: “Io son Manfredi,
nepote di Costanza imperadrice;
ond' io ti priego che, quando tu riedi,
115
116
117

vadi a mia bella figlia, genetrice
de l'onor di Cicilia e d'Aragona,
e dichi 'l vero a lei, s'altro si dice.
118
119
120

Poscia ch'io ebbi rotta la persona
di due punte mortali, io mi rendei,
piangendo, a quei che volontier perdona.
121
122
123

Orribil furon li peccati miei;
ma la bontà infinita ha sì gran braccia,
che prende ciò che si rivolge a lei.
124
125
126

Se 'l pastor di Cosenza, che a la caccia
di me fu messo per Clemente allora,
avesse in Dio ben letta questa faccia,
127
128
129

l'ossa del corpo mio sarieno ancora
in co del ponte presso a Benevento,
sotto la guardia de la grave mora.
130
131
132

Or le bagna la pioggia e move il vento
di fuor dal regno, quasi lungo 'l Verde,
dov' e' le trasmutò a lume spento.
133
134
135

Per lor maladizion sì non si perde,
che non possa tornar, l'etterno amore,
mentre che la speranza ha fior del verde.
136
137
138

Vero è che quale in contumacia more
di Santa Chiesa, ancor ch'al fin si penta,
star li convien da questa ripa in fore,
139
140
141

per ognun tempo ch'elli è stato, trenta,
in sua presunzïon, se tal decreto
più corto per buon prieghi non diventa.
142
143
144
145

Vedi oggimai se tu mi puoi far lieto,
revelando a la mia buona Costanza
come m'hai visto, e anco esto divieto;
ché qui per quei di là molto s'avanza.”
1
2
3

Inasmuch as the instantaneous flight
  Had scattered them asunder o'er the plain,
  Turned to the mountain whither reason spurs us,

4
5
6

I pressed me close unto my faithful comrade,
  And how without him had I kept my course?
  Who would have led me up along the mountain?

7
8
9

He seemed to me within himself remorseful;
  O noble conscience, and without a stain,
  How sharp a sting is trivial fault to thee!

10
11
12

After his feet had laid aside the haste
  Which mars the dignity of every act,
  My mind, that hitherto had been restrained,

13
14
15

Let loose its faculties as if delighted,
  And I my sight directed to the hill
  That highest tow'rds the heaven uplifts itself.

16
17
18

The sun, that in our rear was flaming red,
  Was broken in front of me into the figure
  Which had in me the stoppage of its rays;

19
20
21

Unto one side I turned me, with the fear
  Of being left alone, when I beheld
  Only in front of me the ground obscured.

22
23
24

"Why dost thou still mistrust?" my Comforter
  Began to say to me turned wholly round;
  "Dost thou not think me with thee, and that I guide thee?

25
26
27

'Tis evening there already where is buried
  The body within which I cast a shadow;
  'Tis from Brundusium ta'en, and Naples has it.

28
29
30

Now if in front of me no shadow fall,
  Marvel not at it more than at the heavens,
  Because one ray impedeth not another

31
32
33

To suffer torments, both of cold and heat,
  Bodies like this that Power provides, which wills
  That how it works be not unveiled to us.

34
35
36

Insane is he who hopeth that our reason
  Can traverse the illimitable way,
  Which the one Substance in three Persons follows!

37
38
39

Mortals, remain contented at the 'Quia;'
  For if ye had been able to see all,
  No need there were for Mary to give birth;

40
41
42

And ye have seen desiring without fruit,
  Those whose desire would have been quieted,
  Which evermore is given them for a grief.

43
44
45

I speak of Aristotle and of Plato,
  And many others;"—and here bowed his head,
  And more he said not, and remained disturbed.

46
47
48

We came meanwhile unto the mountain's foot;
  There so precipitate we found the rock,
  That nimble legs would there have been in vain.

49
50
51

'Twixt Lerici and Turbia, the most desert,
  The most secluded pathway is a stair
  Easy and open, if compared with that.

52
53
54

"Who knoweth now upon which hand the hill
  Slopes down," my Master said, his footsteps staying,
  "So that who goeth without wings may mount?"

55
56
57

And while he held his eyes upon the ground
  Examining the nature of the path,
  And I was looking up around the rock,

58
59
60

On the left hand appeared to me a throng
  Of souls, that moved their feet in our direction,
  And did not seem to move, they came so slowly.

61
62
63

"Lift up thine eyes," I to the Master said;
  "Behold, on this side, who will give us counsel,
  If thou of thine own self can have it not."

64
65
66

Then he looked at me, and with frank expression
  Replied: "Let us go there, for they come slowly,
  And thou be steadfast in thy hope, sweet son."

67
68
69

Still was that people as far off from us,
  After a thousand steps of ours I say,
  As a good thrower with his hand would reach,

70
71
72

When they all crowded unto the hard masses
  Of the high bank, and motionless stood and close,
  As he stands still to look who goes in doubt.

73
74
75

"O happy dead! O spirits elect already!"
  Virgilius made beginning, "by that peace
  Which I believe is waiting for you all,

76
77
78

Tell us upon what side the mountain slopes,
  So that the going up be possible,
  For to lose time irks him most who most knows."

79
80
81

As sheep come issuing forth from out the fold
  By ones and twos and threes, and the others stand
  Timidly, holding down their eyes and nostrils,

82
83
84

And what the foremost does the others do,
  Huddling themselves against her, if she stop,
  Simple and quiet and the wherefore know not;

85
86
87

So moving to approach us thereupon
  I saw the leader of that fortunate flock,
  Modest in face and dignified in gait.

88
89
90

As soon as those in the advance saw broken
  The light upon the ground at my right side,
  So that from me the shadow reached the rock,

91
92
93

They stopped, and backward drew themselves somewhat;
  And all the others, who came after them,
  Not knowing why nor wherefore, did the same.

94
95
96

"Without your asking, I confess to you
  This is a human body which you see,
  Whereby the sunshine on the ground is cleft.

97
98
99

Marvel ye not thereat, but be persuaded
  That not without a power which comes from Heaven
  Doth he endeavour to surmount this wall."

100
101
102

The Master thus; and said those worthy people:
  "Return ye then, and enter in before us,"
  Making a signal with the back o' the hand

103
104
105

And one of them began: "Whoe'er thou art,
  Thus going turn thine eyes, consider well
  If e'er thou saw me in the other world."

106
107
108

I turned me tow'rds him, and looked at him closely;
  Blond was he, beautiful, and of noble aspect,
  But one of his eyebrows had a blow divided.

109
110
111

When with humility I had disclaimed
  E'er having seen him, "Now behold!" he said,
  And showed me high upon his breast a wound.

112
113
114

Then said he with a smile: "I am Manfredi,
  The grandson of the Empress Costanza;
  Therefore, when thou returnest, I beseech thee

115
116
117

Go to my daughter beautiful, the mother
  Of Sicily's honour and of Aragon's,
  And the truth tell her, if aught else be told.

118
119
120

After I had my body lacerated
  By these two mortal stabs, I gave myself
  Weeping to Him, who willingly doth pardon.

121
122
123

Horrible my iniquities had been;
  But Infinite Goodness hath such ample arms,
  That it receives whatever turns to it.

124
125
126

Had but Cosenza's pastor, who in chase
  Of me was sent by Clement at that time,
  In God read understandingly this page,

127
128
129

The bones of my dead body still would be
  At the bridge-head, near unto Benevento,
  Under the safeguard of the heavy cairn.

130
131
132

Now the rain bathes and moveth them the wind,
  Beyond the realm, almost beside the Verde,
  Where he transported them with tapers quenched.

133
134
135

By malison of theirs is not so lost
  Eternal Love, that it cannot return,
  So long as hope has anything of green.

136
137
138

True is it, who in contumacy dies
  Of Holy Church, though penitent at last,
  Must wait upon the outside this bank

139
140
141

Thirty times told the time that he has been
  In his presumption, unless such decree
  Shorter by means of righteous prayers become.

142
143
144
145

See now if thou hast power to make me happy,
  By making known unto my good Costanza
  How thou hast seen me, and this ban beside,
For those on earth can much advance us here."

Robert Hollander (English, 2000-2007)
1 - 6

The two 'companions' are running, but not as quickly as the souls who precede them, while Virgil considers his previous inappropriate behavior and Dante his own (as we shall learn in Purg. III.7-9 and III.12-13). The poet, as though apologizing for what he is putting Virgil through in these scenes, reminds the reader of his enduring debt to the pagan poet, without whom this journey through the afterworld would have been impossible.

The word 'ragione' in verse 3 does not mean 'reason' but 'justice,' as is attested by Dante's earlier usage in Convivio (where it nine times refers to law, especially Justinian's codification of Roman statutes – see Vasoli's analytical index to Convivio [Il Convivio, in Dante Alighieri, Opere minori, vol. I, part ii (Milan: Ricciardi, 1988)], pp. 1011-12), and the entire commentary tradition (even if a small subset of commentators believes the word here means 'conscience'). See also Marta Cristiani, 'ragione' (ED.1973.4), pp. 831-41, esp. p. 841. In this context it nearly certainly refers to divine justice.

7 - 9

Virgil's remorse is self-caused. As Venturi (comm. to verse 7) remarked, Virgil rebukes himself even though he could not have been a target of Cato's anger, since he was not a soul on the way to purgation. And thus the little fault applies to him alone, not to Dante and the others (for all of whom it is considerably more serious). Still, the attribution of the fault continues to cause a certain confusion. A fairly typical understanding, with an allegorizing bent, is found in Di Benedetto (“Simboli e moralità nel II canto del Purgatorio,” Giornale storico della letteratura italiana 162 [1985]), pp. 179-80: 'The picciol fallo is that of Virgil, who stands for Reason and thus for Dante himself.... The “trivial fault” is assigned to Dante and the other souls.' Pasquazi (“Catone,” Cultura e scuola 13-14 [1965]), p. 538, on the other hand, sees the phrase as referring to Virgil and not the others. Levitan (“Dante as Listener, Cato's Rebuke, and Virgil's Self-Reproach,” Dante Studies 103 [1985]), pp. 50-54, also notes the differing nature of the guilt afflicting Virgil, whose drama is not one of potential salvation, from that of Dante (and the other Christian souls, one is tempted to add). In this vein see also Hollander (“Purgatorio II: The New Song and the Old,” Lectura Dantis [virginiana] 6 [1990]), p. 40.

10 - 11

The image of Virgil looking somewhat foolish because he is running is the sort of detail one would expect to find in no other medieval poem.

Virgil, here momentarily lacking onestade (dignity), is bracketed by the figures of Cato and the group containing Manfred; both of these are referred to as onesto (Purg. II.119; Purg. III.87).

12 - 13

As Virgil is preoccupied with his minor failing, so Dante is troubled by his own guilty thoughts. Daniello (comm. to verse 12) points to Cato's rebuke (Purg. II.120-121) as the cause of his shame when he considers his hesitation in moving toward the necessary mountain.

15 - 15

The verb dislagarsi (literally meaning 'to unlake itself') is a Dantean coinage, a phenomenon that will grow as the poem progresses and flower in profusion in Paradiso.

16 - 18

Dante's presence here in the body is a double-edged proposition, as it both emphasizes his extraordinary state of grace in being here in the flesh and his debilitated status, resulting from his fleshly view of things. For a study of this phenomenon and its development through the cantica see Philip Berk (“Shadows on the Mount of Purgatory,” Dante Studies 97 [1979], pp. 47-63), who points out that, while we may feel that Dante in Purgatorio all too frequently presents himself as casting a shadow, he in fact does so only six times: here; later in this canto (Purg. III.88-90); then in Purgatorio V.4-6, V.25-27, XXVI.4-8; XXVII.64-69. Berk also makes the point that Dante's corporeal shadow finds a correspondence, later in the canto, in Manfred's wounds (vv. 108, 111), the signs of that soul's former mortality.

19 - 21

Having noted his own shadow, the protagonist now is struck by the absence of Virgil's, and momentarily thinks he has been abandoned by his guide. While, as soon as the travelers reached the shore of the mount of purgatory and reentered the sunlight, the protagonist might have noted that none of the immortal denizens of this new place casts a shadow – not Cato, none of the pilgrims, not his guide – the poet reserves that recognition for this canto, so filled with reminiscence of the death of Virgil.

22 - 24

Benvenuto da Imola's paraphrase of Virgil's rebuke begins with the words 'modicae fidei': ('you of little faith, why have you so easily lost the faith and the hope that you ought and may have in me, who never left you behind in the city of the demons?'). Benvenuto is clearly thinking of the words of Christ in the Gospels (in the Latin Bible the phrase 'modicae fidei' is found four times and only in Matthew [6:30; 8:26; 14:31; 16:8]). If Benvenuto has correctly heard that echo, its effect is noteworthy, for then the faithless Virgil is reproving his pupil, modeling his speech on the words of Christ, for his lack of faith, evident on occasion from the first canto of the Inferno until Virgil leaves the poem in Purgatorio XXX. Whether Virgil is citing Scripture or having Scripture placed in his mouth by his Christian author is a problem the reader has already encountered (see Inf. VIII.45 and the note to Inf. VIII.40-45).

25 - 26

Since it is shortly after dawn here in purgatory, it is shortly after sunset at the antipodes, Jerusalem. And since Italy, in Dante's geography, lies midway between Jerusalem and Gibraltar, it is sometime after 3pm there, as evening (vespero) begins with the sun's last quarter, between 3pm and 6pm.

27 - 27

Virgil died on 21 September 19 B.C. at Brindisi, a city in Apulia that still serves as a port for maritime travelers to and from Greece. Augustus was responsible for the transfer of his body from Brindisi to Naples, or actually, Pozzuoli, some ten miles distant, where it was interred in a grotto in the vast tunnel, built by the ancient Romans, connecting Pozzuoli and the road to Naples. John of Serravalle (comm. to vv. 25-27) records his having visited the site on 30 August 1413 and having held bones of Virgil in his hands. This passage begins what has been called 'an antepurgatorial preoccupation with the body and its place of burial' (by Denise Heilbronn, “Dante's Valley of the Princes,” Dante Studies 90 [1972], p. 44). Selene Sarteschi (“Riflessioni sul canto di Manfredi,” in her Per la “Commedia” e non per essa soltanto [Rome: Bulzoni, 2002 (1999)]), p. 246n., points out that the four presences of the word corpo in this canto represent the word's greatest frequency in any canto of the poem, thus underlining the importance of corporeal concerns with respect to Virgil, Dante, and Manfred.

Pietro di Dante (Pietro1, comm. to vv. 25-27) was perhaps the first to cite Virgil's versified epitaph, as found in the Vitae of Virgil by Suetonius and Donatus:


Mantua me genuit, Calabri rapuere, tenet nunc
Parthenope: cecini pascua, rura, duces.

[Mantua gave me birth, Calabria took me off; now Naples holds me; I sang of pastures, fields, and kings.]

Pietro was followed, among the early commentators, by Benvenuto da Imola (comm. ad loc.) and by John of Serravalle (comm. Purg. VI.67-75).

Virgil 'sang' his Eclogues, Georgics, and Aeneid. For the possible reference to the three Virgilian subjects in the final hundred verses of the canto, see Hollander (“Dante's 'Georgic' [Inferno XXIV, 1-18],” Dante Studies 102 [1984]), p. 114:


46-78: the barren landscape of this scene (rura)
79-102: the contumacious as sheep (pascua)
103-145: Manfred and empire (duces)

In this experimental formulation Dante would, in exactly one hundred lines, have deployed the three 'spokes' of the stylistic rota Vergilii (the wheel of Virgil).

Carroll (comm. to Purg. III.19-33) cites Plumptre for the opinion that this scene reflects the (unverified) tradition that St. Paul visited Virgil's grave at Naples and wept for the great poet, whom, had he but known him, he might have led to salvation.

28 - 30

Dante's heavens include the nine celestial spheres containing the Moon and, as they move higher, eventually no stellar bodies of any kind (the Primum mobile). In Paradiso we will learn that, while they are material, they are also translucent. Something similar is also the case with respect to the shades here.

31 - 33

Virgil here touches on the nature of the 'aerial bodies' of the dead in hell and purgatory. The Roman poet Statius will elaborate on the 'physical' nature of shades in Purgatorio XXV.34-108.

34 - 36

The 'posthumous Christian' ruefully acknowledges, by pointing to reason as his means for attempting to know the essence of things, his failure to have had faith. The reference to reason does not indicate, as some commentators insist, that Virgil embodies or personifies Reason, especially since, in this context, Reason would then be commenting on the shortcomings of reason. Reason is a property (or, in Scholastic terms, an 'accident') of the Roman poet, not his essence.

37 - 37

The quia is a term deriving from Scholastic discourse. Benvenuto da Imola's paraphrase (comm. to vv. 37-39) nicely conveys both that style and precisely what is meant here: 'sufficiat vobis credere quia sic est, et non quaerere propter quid est' (let it suffice you to believe that something is so, without seeking to know why it is so), i.e., to accept things as they are, without attempting to understand their causes.

38 - 39

Some commentators (e.g., Benvenuto) are of the opinion that these lines indicate that had humankind been able to know the final mysteries, Adam and Eve would not have fallen and Christ would not have been needed to save us. It seems far more likely that Dante's thought is more logically connected than such an analysis would indicate: had we known all, there would have been no need for Christ to come to bring us the final truth of things. The focus here is not moral so much as it is intellectual.

40 - 45

Perhaps there is no passage in the poem that more clearly delineates the tragedy of Virgil, now studied by its protagonist himself. His own fourth Eclogue, which spoke of a virgin who would give birth to a son, but did not mean Mary and did not mean Jesus, is symptomatic of how near he came and thus how great was his failure, a result here addressed in an unspoken gesture – his lowering his head – that swells with unshed tears. In the last canto, the newly arrived pilgrims looked up with hope ('la nova gente alzò la fronte' [the new people raised their faces]). The words describing Virgil's silence echo key words from that passage in a contrastive spirit (as noted by Hollander, “Purgatorio II: The New Song and the Old,” Lectura Dantis [virginiana] 6 [1990], p. 36): 'e qui chinò la fronte, / e più non disse, e rimase turbato' [and here he lowered his brow, said nothing more, and seemed disturbed]. As Benvenuto (comm. to vv. 43-45) would have it, it is as though Virgil were saying: 'And woe is me, I was among their number.'

The words in rhyme position in these two tercets underline their message:


Maria quetato
quia Plato
via turbato

One way leads up through faith to Christian truth, mediated by the mortal woman who gave birth to God in the flesh, the other down from this potential happiness, through rational attempts to know the rationally unknowable, to everlasting unhappiness. Mary and Plato are here the very emblems of the choices that we humans face.

46 - 48

There is a sharp dividing line between the elegiac passage devoted to Virgil's consideration of his failure (Purg. III.22-45) and the scene that begins here, with the description of the sheer wall of the mountain and the first attempt at an ascent. For an appreciation of the nonetheless unitary nature of this canto as a whole, see Walther Binni (“Lettura del canto III del Purgatorio,” in his Ancora con Dante [Ravenna: Longo, 1983 (1955)]), p. 9.

49 - 51

Lerici and Turbia are settlements at either end of the Ligurian coast, to either side of Genoa, a region marked by rugged mountains sloping to the sea and, in Dante's roadless day, difficult of access.

52 - 57

Virgil's question and attitude reveal a guide who has not taken this trip previously, as he had in Inferno. Further, while he falls back on the resource of his reason, the futility of which in certain situations has just been explored by the guide himself, his pupil, like the arriving penitents in the last canto (see the note to Purg. III.40-45), does the intuitive and hopeful thing: he looks up.

58 - 60

Having begun their attempt to ascend, Virgil and Dante begin moving leftward out of habit, we must assume. (They will only learn what direction they should be moving in at verse 101.) Our first glimpse of the souls of ante-purgatory marks them as unexcited and slow-moving, attributes that will gain in meaning when we learn more about them.

For helpful references to Classical discussions of the morally charged nature of the directions of human movement (right, up, and ahead are all 'good'; left, down, and behind are all 'bad') see Giorgio Stabile (“Cosmologia e teologia nella Commedia: la caduta di Lucifero e il rovesciamento del mondo,” Letture classensi 12 [1983]), pp. 145-49.

Purgatorio is traditionally divided into three areas: ante-purgatorio, made up of two major zones, Excommunication and Late Repentance (the latter divided into three sub-divisions, containing those dying unabsolved, those marked by negligence, and those who loved the world too much); purgatorio itself (divided into seven terraces, each of which represents one of the Seven Capital Vices), and the earthly paradise at the summit of the mountain. (These divisions and the first naming of 'ante-purgatory' are found in Benvenuto [introductory note to Purg. I].) Thus, like Inferno and Paradiso, Purgatorio is divided into ten large 'parts' (in Inferno Neutrality, lack of faith (Limbo), Lust, Gluttony, Avarice, Anger, Heresy, Violence, Fraud, Treachery; in Paradiso the nine heavens and the Empyrean). However, for another view of the divisions of Purgatorio, see Victoria Kirkham (“I quindici gradi del regno di Catone,” in Letteratura italiana e arti figurative: Atti del XII Convegno dell'Associazione Internazionale per gli Studi di Lingua e Letteratura Italiana [Toronto, Hamilton, Montreal, 6-10 maggio 1985], ed. Antonio Franceschetti [Florence: Olschki, 1988], vol. I, pp. 229-36). Arguing from the Christian numerological tradition that makes fifteen the number of the spiritual ascent to God, she attempts to demonstrate that the second cantica is meaningfully divided into fifteen 'steps.' Her argument depends on an accountancy that may not seem convincing: there are four kinds of negligence, three kinds of pride, and, among the final six terraces, two that are 'double' (avarice and prodigality; heterosexual and homosexual lust), thus yielding a total of fifteen. Further, one might object that this numbering omits both the first and last destinations of the penitent saved soul, 'pre-ante-purgatory,' where such as Casella await the journey to the antipodes (Purg. II.94-105), and the earthly paradise (Purg. XXVIII-XXXIII), which for Kirkham obviously serves as destination rather than stage on the way to spiritual awareness, which is, however, surely to be found in the Empyrean, not in the earthly paradise itself. One probably ends up wondering whether Dante's text itself invites his reader to enumerate the parts of the cantica in this way.

61 - 63

Underlining the difference between the guide's and the protagonist's ways of proceeding, Dante's remark, urging Virgil to look up, intrinsically reveals a reversal of roles, as was noted by Margherita Frankel (“La similitudine della zara [Purg. VI, 1-12] ed il rapporto fra Dante e Virgilio nell'Antepurgatorio,” in Studi Americani su Dante, ed. G. C. Alessio and R. Hollander [Milan: F. Angeli, 1989]), pp. 120-21. It is not the master who is giving instructions but the pupil; throughout the little scene that follows one can sense Virgil's effort to regain his attenuated authority.

72 - 72

The souls are puzzled by what they see, two figures moving in the wrong direction (to the left) on this holy mountain, as Benvenuto da Imola was perhaps first to suggest. Not only are they going in the wrong direction, they are also moving quickly, not at the reverential and thoughtful pace of penitence.

73 - 78

Virgil's captatio benevolentiae (the attempt to capture the goodwill of one's auditors) here, like the one he addressed to Cato in the first canto (Purg. I.70-84), reveals, as Margherita Frankel has been perhaps alone in arguing (“La similitudine della zara [Purg. VI, 1-12] ed il rapporto fra Dante e Virgilio nell'Antepurgatorio,” in Studi Americani su Dante, ed. G. C. Alessio and R. Hollander [Milan: F. Angeli, 1989], pp. 122-24), another example of his not understanding his own limitations. His epigrammatic concluding utterance, though taken in bono by commentator after commentator (and perhaps most pleasingly in the commentary of Benvenuto [to these verses], who goes on to claim that Dante himself was most prudent in using his time, so that he managed to get his Commedia finished before he died), shows him once again getting things a bit garbled. The self-assured turn of phrase, 'The more we know, the more we hate time's waste,' indicates that he is still without understanding of the positive aspects of not knowing, of not hurrying – two aspects of the saved souls whom he addresses that, as the following simile will make unmistakably clear, are praiseworthy in the Christian context of this scene.

79 - 87

The sole extended comparison of the canto centers attention on the need for faith untroubled by reason. These sheep, following and imitating their bellwether, are presented positively for their humility and faithfulness. See Richard Lansing (From Image to Idea: A Study of the Simile in Dante's “Commedia” [Ravenna: Longo, 1977]), pp. 47-53, for a discussion of this simile, contrasting the humility exemplified here in Manfred (whom we shall soon come to understand is the 'bellwether' in the simile), whose life was marked by the opposite vice, presumption, in his opposition to the Church. In one of his typical outbursts against his intellectual enemies in Convivio, Dante calls them stupid and compares them to sheep (Conv. I.xi.9-10), those sheep that follow their leader in jumping into a ravine a mile deep (is that phrasing, 'mille passi,' remembered in the same phrase at verse 68, above? Frankel [“La similitudine della zara (Purg. VI, 1-12) ed il rapporto fra Dante e Virgilio nell'Antepurgatorio,” in Studi Americani su Dante, ed. G. C. Alessio and R. Hollander (Milan: F. Angeli, 1989)], p. 124, is of that opinion). Citation of this passage in Convivio was perhaps first brought into play by Daniello (comm. to vv.79-84), but it is only recently that readers have begun to understand that the ovine images in this simile work against the assertion found in the Convivial outburst. Its prideful, even presumptuous, tone is here countermanded by the poet's better understanding of the virtues of sheep, as the arrogance of prideful philosophizing gives way to Christian piety.

In his commentary to this passage, Singleton notes the appropriateness of the 77th Psalm (77:52 [78:52]), recapitulating the Exodus with these words: 'But [God] made his own people go forth like sheep, and guided them in the wilderness like a flock.' It seems clear that such traditional Judeo-Christian images of the flock of the just govern this simile.

93 - 93

If we had not sensed the importance of humble acts committed by those 'not knowing why' in Purgatorio III.84, the fact that the souls, now described directly, repeat what had been done within the simile reinforces the importance of the point. Denise Heilbronn (“Dante's Valley of the Princes,” Dante Studies 90 [1972]), p. 45, typifies the spirit of the portrayals of the souls in ante-purgatory as follows: 'These souls are suspended in a limbo different from Virgil's. Not quite detached from the place they have left, they are on the right road yet cannot move; not quite sure where they are headed, they are poised between memory and anticipation.'

94 - 96

For Dante's shadow, see the note to Purgatorio III.16-18.

101 - 102

The saved souls now express their concern: Dante and Virgil are heading in the wrong direction (see Margherita Frankel, “La similitudine della zara (Purg. VI, 1-12) ed il rapporto fra Dante e Virgilio nell'Antepurgatorio,” in Studi Americani su Dante, ed. G. C. Alessio and R. Hollander [Milan: F. Angeli, 1989], pp. 121-22). They are thus aesthetically and morally disturbing as newcomers to purgatory. They seem obviously entitled to be present but somehow not to have gotten their copy of this club's booklet describing Proper Conduct for Members.

The gesture that they make is puzzling to American readers, who give the sign for 'stop!' or 'go back!' by extending their palms outward. As Lombardi (comm. to verse 102) calmly points out, 'The gesture referred to here by the poet is exactly the one with which we signal to others that they should turn and retrace their steps.' Experience on Tuscan streets and paths even today will verify this.

103 - 105

Manfred died (February 1266) some eight or nine months after Dante was born. His question is thus groundless, notwithstanding the exertions of commentators like Tommaseo (comm. to these verses), Andreoli (comm. to verse 105), and Poletto (to these verses) who argue that Dante, as a deeply thoughtful man, looked old for his age. The utterly human perception that lies behind the poet's lending Manfred this question is that the great and famous are used to being recognized, and often assume that everybody has seen them, even if they themselves tend to have small recollection of the many whom they have encountered. On the other hand, his question may also be a hopeful one, i.e., if this living soul happens to recognize him, Manfred hopes that he will cause others to pray for him – see Purgatorio V.49-50, where other late-repentant souls make similar requests.

107 - 108

The 'realism' of the detail of this scarred eyebrow has drawn much admiration. Singleton's comment (comm. to this verse) cites Augustine, De civ. Dei XXII.xix.3: 'For, in the martyrs, such wounds will not be a deformity; they will have a dignity and loveliness all their own; and, though this radiance will be spiritual and not physical, it will, in some way, beam from their bodies.' He goes on to suggest that Manfred, though excommunicated by the Church, nonetheless is treated here as a sort of martyr, 'persecuted' by that very Church.

Having once seen John Fitzgerald Kennedy standing in a convertible moving up Fifth Avenue on a magnificent sun-filled autumn afternoon in October of 1960, shortly before he was elected president of his country, his shock of red-blond hair dazzling in the sunlight, the writer cannot read this passage without remembering that other handsome, womanizing, self-confident leader who would also die wounded in the head.

For a Biblical passage that Dante possibly had in mind as he described Manfred, see Grandgent (comm. to verse 107): 'Cf. 1 Samuel 16:12: “Now he [David] was ruddy, and withal of a beautiful countenance and goodly to look at.”' Manfred's resemblance to David has been reasserted by various later commentators. Bosco/Reggio (comm. to vv. 106-120) add a similar description of Roland in the Chanson de Roland (verse 2278: 'Bels fut e forz e de grant vasselage'). John Freccero (Dante: The Poetics of Conversion, ed. Rachel Jacoff [Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1986]), pp. 206-7, sees a resemblance to the similarly handsome and ill-fated Marcellus (Aen. VI.860-885). However, the literal context does not seem to support this analogy and it may be more appropriate to consider another Virgilian antecedent to Manfred, the tragic figure of Deiphobus (Aen. VI.495-499), who attempts to hide his wounds from Aeneas, his mangled ears and his nose ('truncas inhonesto volnere naris' [his nostrils laid bare by a shameful wound – Aen. VI.498]). Deiphobus, desiring not to be recognized by his wounds, is, in this understanding, a foil to Manfred, eager to display the wound in his chest. Perhaps the first commentator to note this correspondence was Mattalia (comm. to verse 111); and see Hollander (“Dante's 'Georgic' [Inferno XXIV, 1-18],” Dante Studies 102 [1984]), p. 119.

111 - 111

Manfred's second wound (the poet will insist on the importance of the fact that he has two visible wounds in verse 119), perhaps reminiscent of the wound in Christ's side (John 19:34; 20:25), causes the reader to consider the possible significances of these two marks on his body. Perhaps we are to understand that the first wound, in his brow, traditionally and in Dante the locus of pride (see Inf. X.45 and the note to Inf. X.45; Inf. XXXIV.35 and the note to Inf. XXXIV.35), is the sign of his pride brought low, his mark of Cain, as it were, now made good in his gesture of revealing his other wound, his mark of Christ, the seal of his humility. Torraca (comm. to vv. 109-111) is nearly alone in seeing the resemblance, antithetic though it be, between the gestures of self-revelation in displaying wounds found in Manfred here and in Mohammed (Inf. XXVIII.29-31); and see the similar appreciation in Denise Heilbronn (“Dante's Valley of the Princes,” Dante Studies 90 [1972]), p. 43.

112 - 112

Manfred's smile is part of a 'program' of smiling found in the two final cantiche (see the note to Purg. II.83). His way of naming himself seems to be part of a program limited to the ante-purgatory, the only part of the poem in which characters name themselves using this formula ('io son' followed by their own name). Manfred's smiling self-identification stands out from the evasive behavior in this regard exhibited by most of the sinners in hell. For the others who employ this formula see Purgatorio V.88 (Buonconte da Montefeltro), Purgatorio VI.34 (Sordello), Purgatorio VII.7 (Virgil). In the less personal exchanges in Paradiso only St. Bonaventure uses a version of it: 'Io son la vita di Bonaventura...' (Par. XII.127). There the great Franciscan identifies himself as a living heavenly soul.

Born ca. 1231, Manfred was the illegitimate son of the emperor Frederick II and Bianca Lancia, and thus the natural grandson of Emperor Henry VI and Constance of Sicily. He was also the father, by his wife Beatrice of Savoy, of Constance, who married King Peter III of Aragon (see Purg. III.115-116). When Frederick died in 1250, Manfred was appointed regent of Sicily in the absence of his brother, Conrad IV, involved elsewhere. When Conrad died, in 1254, leaving the realm to his three-year-old son, Conradin, Manfred again became regent. At the rumors of the child's death, in 1258 (he would in fact survive another ten years), Manfred was crowned king in Palermo. This did not sit well with the pope, and Alexander IV excommunicated him in 1258, as did Urban IV in 1261. Urban offered the vacated forfeited crown to Louis IX of France who, refusing it, opened the path to an invitation of Charles of Anjou, who accepted. Once Charles was crowned in Rome in January 1266, he set out to destroy Manfred, an aim that he accomplished the next month at the battle of Benevento. A lover of the 'good life' at court, a fervent Ghibelline, a man charged (whether correctly or not) with a number of murders of his cofamiliars, supposedly undertaken to advance his political hopes, Manfred was not, at least not in Guelph eyes, a selection for salvation that could have been calculated to win sympathy to the work that contained such news. It is at least reasonable to believe that the first damned soul we see in hell is Celestine V (see the note to Inf. III.58-60), a pope of saintly habits; here the first soul we find saved on the mountain is the excommunicated Manfred. Whatever else Dante enjoyed doing as he wrote this poem, he clearly delighted in shocking his readers – as though the salvation of Cato, with which the cantica begins, were not incredible enough for us.

On the problems raised for commentators by the salvation of the excommunicated Manfred see Louis La Favia (“Per una reinterpretazione dell'episodio di Manfredi,” Dante Studies 91 [1973]), who points out that a letter of Pope Innocent III dating from 1199 fully supports the notion that an excommunicate can eventually be saved, a position, as he demonstrates, that was not nearly as shocking to Dante's earliest readers as it would later become. La Favia produces the key portion of that Latin text (pp. 87-88).

113 - 113

Manfred does not identify himself as his father's son (Frederick II is, after all, condemned to hell for heresy: Inf. X.119) but by reference to his paternal grandmother, Constance (1154-98), daughter of Roger II, king of Sicily, and wife of Emperor Henry VI, by whom she became the mother of Frederick. As Benvenuto uniquely (among the early commentators) points out, Dante has borrowed this tactic from Polynices who, questioned about his lineage by the king of Argos, Adrastus, in Statius's Thebaid, prefers to omit the name of Oedipus in favor of that of his mother, Jocasta (Theb. I.676-681). Porena (comm. to vv. 112-113) notes that Dante himself had remembered this scene in Convivio (Conv. IV.xxx.10), laying the avoidance on Polynices' part both to his desire to omit reference to his own harsh actions against his father as well as to keep concealed Oedipus's evil deeds. Hermann Gmelin (Kommentar: der Läuterungsberg [Stuttgart: Klett, 1955]), p. 79, offers further discussion.

117 - 117

The poet's self-awareness is unmistakable here. Hardly anyone in his time would have consented to the notion that Manfred had been saved. He places this reference to the imagined dubiety of those who might hear such news (i.e., by reading Dante's poem) in the mouth of his character and it is our turn to smile. Yet we can imagine how many Guelphs and churchmen would have fumed at this passage, adamant in their vehement and unflagging belief that Manfred had been damned.

121 - 123

The sinners in hell, we must assume, failed exactly to do, even at the last moment of their lives, what Manfred did. While he is held back from purgation for the insubordination that resulted in his excommunication, he, too, is a late-repentant saved soul.

124 - 129

The archbishop of Cosenza, in Calabria, enlisted by Pope Clement IV in his battles against Manfred's Ghibellines, was responsible, at the end, for disinterring his corpse, buried under the cairn of stones piled upon his body by Guelph troops after the battle of Benevento.

There is some dispute as to the precise meaning of the word faccia here. Does it mean 'face' or 'page'? For the former, see Freccero (Dante: The Poetics of Conversion, ed. Rachel Jacoff [Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1986]), p. 206. For 'faccia' as page, see Frankel (“Dante's Anti-Virgilian villanello,” Dante Studies 102 [1984]), p. 107. The page in God's writing indicated here is perhaps found at Revelation 20:12, the reference to the Book of Life, in which are recorded the names of the saved, including, we must reflect, that of Manfred. Further, three particulars lend support to those who argue for 'page,' faccia as an apocopation of facciata: (1) While most of the early commentators are vague in their readings of this verse, those who wrote in the Renaissance and after tend to find this interpretation more natural; (2) modern commentators mainly prefer 'face,' if without the sort of convincing argument that might conclude the debate; (3) the archbishop of Cosenza, we might reflect, obviously had no direct experience of God's presence (at least not in Dante's mind), but he surely did have some kind of access to the Scripture, although he evidently – at least in Dante's eyes – understood it poorly.

130 - 130

In the wake Tommaseo (comm. to vv. 130-132) many modern commentators suggest that there is a reference here to Virgil's Palinurus (Aen. VI.362): 'Nunc me fluctus habet versantque in litore venti' (Now the waves have me and the winds hurl me onto the beach). See the notes to Purgatorio V.91-93 and VI.28-33.

131 - 135

Adding insult to the injury of disinterment, the archbishop ordered Manfred's remains to be cast back into the world. They had first at least been allowed burial in unconsecrated ground with the ceremony prescribed for the excommunicate ('with torches quenched'). And so the corpse is put out of the Kingdom of Naples and Sicily onto a bank of the river Verde, today the Liri.

The name of the river, Verde (green), however, stands intrinsically opposed to such purpose, since it both traditionally represents the virtue of hope and happens to have been the color that Manfred himself favored. And thus the identical rhyme 'Verde/verde' underlines the hopeful sign that Manfred's faith believed would come and his love longed for. The Church's human agents may not understand God's hidden disposition.

The final phrase here, 'ha fior del verde,' has caused much difficulty. Lombardi (comm. to verse 135) paraphrases the passage as follows: 'so long as death does not entirely dry up hope, but leaves a single thread of it green.' The spirit of comedy in this canto overcomes the atmosphere of tragedy. We might reflect that this is the first true narrative of the Purgatorio (neither Cato nor Casella gives the sort of perfectly formed autobiographical performance to which we have become accustomed in Inferno). The first cantica has trained us to expect “tragedy,” the tale told, from the sinner's point of view, of death and damnation. Unconsciously, we may expect exactly that sort of narrative here. And it surely seems to be similar, with its story of horrific death and undignified burial; yet here we find the tragic surmounted by the comic resolution offered by redemption. Thus Manfred's narrative is set as a pattern for all those we shall hear in Purgatory. For a discussion of Manfred's narrative as tragic in tone and comic in result, see Selene Sarteschi (“Riflessioni sul canto di Manfredi,” in her Per la “Commedia” e non per essa soltanto [Rome: Bulzoni, 2002 (1999)]), p. 237.

139 - 139

For a possible precursor for this period of delay, see Aeneid VI.325-30, the one hundred years of wandering exacted of the souls of the unburied dead before they are permitted to cross Acheron, a connection perhaps first suggested by Daniello (comm. to vv. 136-141). But this does not explain Dante's choice of the number thirty. It is not until the twentieth century that one finds a commentator wondering about the possible reasons for this choice: Grandgent (comm. to this verse): 'Why thirty? See E. G. Gardner in the Modern Language Review, IX, 63. In Deuteronomy 34:8, we read: “the children of Israel wept for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days. Hence the early Christian practice of saying prayers for the dead for thirty days after decease. Out of this grew the ”Trental of St. Gregory,“ or thirty masses on thirty feast days through the year.' Trucchi (comm. to vv. 136-141) resuscitates a previously unnoted observation of Francesco da Buti, recalling the tale told by Gregory the Great in his Dialogues: the ghost of a monk named Justus who, buried excommunicate for having fathered children, was redeemed when thirty masses said by Gregory set things right. Another analogue, offered by a Princeton student, Gerald Dal Pan '82, in an examination paper in 1980, is worthy of discussion: the thirty years of Jesus's life before he was baptized and entered by the Holy Spirit, when He took on his mission in the world (Luke 3:25).

Torraca (comm. to vv. 136-139) suggests that Manfred lived nine years under the ban of excommunication and thus had a sentence of 270 years in ante-purgatory when he died in 1266, thus leaving him 236 years to wait before commencing his purgation. However, since Dante's poem surely brought a storm of prayers to Heaven, he may have finished his penitential waiting much earlier than that.

143 - 143

The third cantos of both Purgatorio and Paradiso are centrally involved with two women known as 'Constance,' here the grandmother and daughter of Manfred, there Piccarda Donati, whose name as a nun was Constance, and the other Constance, also a nun, who accompanies her when the two of them appear to Dante in the sphere of the Moon. It is perhaps worth considering that Inferno III, in which the wavering neutrals are depicted, involves those who were, most decidedly, inconstant. See Isidore of Seville, Etymologies X.40: 'Constans dictus quod undique stat, nec in aliquam partem declinari potest' (One is said to be constant because, wherever he takes his stand, he cannot be diverted in another direction). In this tentative hypothesis all three third cantos would thus be linked by their thematic concern with constancy.

For bibliography of discussions of this canto see Luigi Scorrano (”Dall'abbandono alla bontà riconquistata [Purgatorio III],“ L'Alighieri 16 [2000]), pp. 69-71.

Purgatorio: Canto 3

1
2
3

Avvegna che la subitana fuga
dispergesse color per la campagna,
rivolti al monte ove ragion ne fruga,
4
5
6

i' mi ristrinsi a la fida compagna:
e come sare' io sanza lui corso?
chi m'avria tratto su per la montagna?
7
8
9

El mi parea da sé stesso rimorso:
o dignitosa coscïenza e netta,
come t'è picciol fallo amaro morso!
10
11
12

Quando li piedi suoi lasciar la fretta,
che l'onestade ad ogn' atto dismaga,
la mente mia, che prima era ristretta,
13
14
15

lo 'ntento rallargò, sì come vaga,
e diedi 'l viso mio incontr' al poggio
che 'nverso 'l ciel più alto si dislaga.
16
17
18

Lo sol, che dietro fiammeggiava roggio,
rotto m'era dinanzi a la figura,
ch'avëa in me de' suoi raggi l'appoggio.
19
20
21

Io mi volsi dallato con paura
d'essere abbandonato, quand' io vidi
solo dinanzi a me la terra oscura;
22
23
24

e 'l mio conforto: “Perché pur diffidi?”
a dir mi cominciò tutto rivolto;
“non credi tu me teco e ch'io ti guidi?
25
26
27

Vespero è già colà dov' è sepolto
lo corpo dentro al quale io facea ombra;
Napoli l'ha, e da Brandizio è tolto.
28
29
30

Ora, se innanzi a me nulla s'aombra,
non ti maravigliar più che d'i cieli
che l'uno a l'altro raggio non ingombra.
31
32
33

A sofferir tormenti, caldi e geli
simili corpi la Virtù dispone
che, come fa, non vuol ch'a noi si sveli.
34
35
36

Matto è chi spera che nostra ragione
possa trascorrer la infinita via
che tiene una sustanza in tre persone.
37
38
39

State contenti, umana gente, al quia;
ché, se potuto aveste veder tutto,
mestier non era parturir Maria;
40
41
42

e disïar vedeste sanza frutto
tai che sarebbe lor disio quetato,
ch'etternalmente è dato lor per lutto:
43
44
45

io dico d'Aristotile e di Plato
e di molt' altri”; e qui chinò la fronte,
e più non disse, e rimase turbato.
46
47
48

Noi divenimmo intanto a piè del monte;
quivi trovammo la roccia sì erta,
che 'ndarno vi sarien le gambe pronte.
49
50
51

Tra Lerice e Turbìa la più diserta,
la più rotta ruina è una scala,
verso di quella, agevole e aperta.
52
53
54

“Or chi sa da qual man la costa cala,”
disse 'l maestro mio fermando 'l passo,
“sì che possa salir chi va sanz' ala?”
55
56
57

E mentre ch'e' tenendo 'l viso basso
essaminava del cammin la mente,
e io mirava suso intorno al sasso,
58
59
60

da man sinistra m'apparì una gente
d'anime, che movieno i piè ver' noi,
e non pareva, sì venïan lente.
61
62
63

“Leva,” diss' io, “maestro, li occhi tuoi:
ecco di qua chi ne darà consiglio,
se tu da te medesmo aver nol puoi.”
64
65
66

Guardò allora, e con libero piglio
rispuose: “Andiamo in là, ch'ei vegnon piano;
e tu ferma la spene, dolce figlio.”
67
68
69

Ancora era quel popol di lontano,
i' dico dopo i nostri mille passi,
quanto un buon gittator trarria con mano,
70
71
72

quando si strinser tutti ai duri massi
de l'alta ripa, e stetter fermi e stretti
com' a guardar, chi va dubbiando, stassi.
73
74
75

“O ben finiti, o già spiriti eletti,”
Virgilio incominciò, “per quella pace
ch'i' credo che per voi tutti s'aspetti,
76
77
78

ditene dove la montagna giace,
sì che possibil sia l'andare in suso;
ché perder tempo a chi più sa più spiace.”
79
80
81

Come le pecorelle escon del chiuso
a una, a due, a tre, e l'altre stanno
timidette atterrando l'occhio e 'l muso;
82
83
84

e ciò che fa la prima, e l'altre fanno,
addossandosi a lei, s'ella s'arresta,
semplici e quete, e lo 'mperché non sanno:
85
86
87

sì vid' io muovere a venir la testa
di quella mandra fortunata allotta,
pudica in faccia e ne l'andare onesta.
88
89
90

Come color dinanzi vider rotta
la luce in terra dal mio destro canto,
sì che l'ombra era da me a la grotta,
91
92
93

restaro, e trasser sé in dietro alquanto,
e tutti li altri che venieno appresso,
non sappiendo 'l perché, fenno altrettanto.
94
95
96

“Sanza vostra domanda io vi confesso
che questo è corpo uman che voi vedete;
per che 'l lume del sole in terra è fesso.
97
98
99

Non vi maravigliate, ma credete
che non sanza virtù che da ciel vegna
cerchi di soverchiar questa parete.”
100
101
102

Così 'l maestro; e quella gente degna
“Tornate,” disse, “intrate innanzi dunque,”
coi dossi de la man faccendo insegna.
103
104
105

E un di loro incominciò: “Chiunque
tu se', così andando, volgi 'l viso:
pon mente se di là mi vedesti unque.”
106
107
108

Io mi volsi ver' lui e guardail fiso:
biondo era e bello e di gentile aspetto,
ma l'un de' cigli un colpo avea diviso.
109
110
111

Quand' io mi fui umilmente disdetto
d'averlo visto mai, el disse: “Or vedi”;
e mostrommi una piaga a sommo 'l petto.
112
113
114

Poi sorridendo disse: “Io son Manfredi,
nepote di Costanza imperadrice;
ond' io ti priego che, quando tu riedi,
115
116
117

vadi a mia bella figlia, genetrice
de l'onor di Cicilia e d'Aragona,
e dichi 'l vero a lei, s'altro si dice.
118
119
120

Poscia ch'io ebbi rotta la persona
di due punte mortali, io mi rendei,
piangendo, a quei che volontier perdona.
121
122
123

Orribil furon li peccati miei;
ma la bontà infinita ha sì gran braccia,
che prende ciò che si rivolge a lei.
124
125
126

Se 'l pastor di Cosenza, che a la caccia
di me fu messo per Clemente allora,
avesse in Dio ben letta questa faccia,
127
128
129

l'ossa del corpo mio sarieno ancora
in co del ponte presso a Benevento,
sotto la guardia de la grave mora.
130
131
132

Or le bagna la pioggia e move il vento
di fuor dal regno, quasi lungo 'l Verde,
dov' e' le trasmutò a lume spento.
133
134
135

Per lor maladizion sì non si perde,
che non possa tornar, l'etterno amore,
mentre che la speranza ha fior del verde.
136
137
138

Vero è che quale in contumacia more
di Santa Chiesa, ancor ch'al fin si penta,
star li convien da questa ripa in fore,
139
140
141

per ognun tempo ch'elli è stato, trenta,
in sua presunzïon, se tal decreto
più corto per buon prieghi non diventa.
142
143
144
145

Vedi oggimai se tu mi puoi far lieto,
revelando a la mia buona Costanza
come m'hai visto, e anco esto divieto;
ché qui per quei di là molto s'avanza.”
1
2
3

Inasmuch as the instantaneous flight
  Had scattered them asunder o'er the plain,
  Turned to the mountain whither reason spurs us,

4
5
6

I pressed me close unto my faithful comrade,
  And how without him had I kept my course?
  Who would have led me up along the mountain?

7
8
9

He seemed to me within himself remorseful;
  O noble conscience, and without a stain,
  How sharp a sting is trivial fault to thee!

10
11
12

After his feet had laid aside the haste
  Which mars the dignity of every act,
  My mind, that hitherto had been restrained,

13
14
15

Let loose its faculties as if delighted,
  And I my sight directed to the hill
  That highest tow'rds the heaven uplifts itself.

16
17
18

The sun, that in our rear was flaming red,
  Was broken in front of me into the figure
  Which had in me the stoppage of its rays;

19
20
21

Unto one side I turned me, with the fear
  Of being left alone, when I beheld
  Only in front of me the ground obscured.

22
23
24

"Why dost thou still mistrust?" my Comforter
  Began to say to me turned wholly round;
  "Dost thou not think me with thee, and that I guide thee?

25
26
27

'Tis evening there already where is buried
  The body within which I cast a shadow;
  'Tis from Brundusium ta'en, and Naples has it.

28
29
30

Now if in front of me no shadow fall,
  Marvel not at it more than at the heavens,
  Because one ray impedeth not another

31
32
33

To suffer torments, both of cold and heat,
  Bodies like this that Power provides, which wills
  That how it works be not unveiled to us.

34
35
36

Insane is he who hopeth that our reason
  Can traverse the illimitable way,
  Which the one Substance in three Persons follows!

37
38
39

Mortals, remain contented at the 'Quia;'
  For if ye had been able to see all,
  No need there were for Mary to give birth;

40
41
42

And ye have seen desiring without fruit,
  Those whose desire would have been quieted,
  Which evermore is given them for a grief.

43
44
45

I speak of Aristotle and of Plato,
  And many others;"—and here bowed his head,
  And more he said not, and remained disturbed.

46
47
48

We came meanwhile unto the mountain's foot;
  There so precipitate we found the rock,
  That nimble legs would there have been in vain.

49
50
51

'Twixt Lerici and Turbia, the most desert,
  The most secluded pathway is a stair
  Easy and open, if compared with that.

52
53
54

"Who knoweth now upon which hand the hill
  Slopes down," my Master said, his footsteps staying,
  "So that who goeth without wings may mount?"

55
56
57

And while he held his eyes upon the ground
  Examining the nature of the path,
  And I was looking up around the rock,

58
59
60

On the left hand appeared to me a throng
  Of souls, that moved their feet in our direction,
  And did not seem to move, they came so slowly.

61
62
63

"Lift up thine eyes," I to the Master said;
  "Behold, on this side, who will give us counsel,
  If thou of thine own self can have it not."

64
65
66

Then he looked at me, and with frank expression
  Replied: "Let us go there, for they come slowly,
  And thou be steadfast in thy hope, sweet son."

67
68
69

Still was that people as far off from us,
  After a thousand steps of ours I say,
  As a good thrower with his hand would reach,

70
71
72

When they all crowded unto the hard masses
  Of the high bank, and motionless stood and close,
  As he stands still to look who goes in doubt.

73
74
75

"O happy dead! O spirits elect already!"
  Virgilius made beginning, "by that peace
  Which I believe is waiting for you all,

76
77
78

Tell us upon what side the mountain slopes,
  So that the going up be possible,
  For to lose time irks him most who most knows."

79
80
81

As sheep come issuing forth from out the fold
  By ones and twos and threes, and the others stand
  Timidly, holding down their eyes and nostrils,

82
83
84

And what the foremost does the others do,
  Huddling themselves against her, if she stop,
  Simple and quiet and the wherefore know not;

85
86
87

So moving to approach us thereupon
  I saw the leader of that fortunate flock,
  Modest in face and dignified in gait.

88
89
90

As soon as those in the advance saw broken
  The light upon the ground at my right side,
  So that from me the shadow reached the rock,

91
92
93

They stopped, and backward drew themselves somewhat;
  And all the others, who came after them,
  Not knowing why nor wherefore, did the same.

94
95
96

"Without your asking, I confess to you
  This is a human body which you see,
  Whereby the sunshine on the ground is cleft.

97
98
99

Marvel ye not thereat, but be persuaded
  That not without a power which comes from Heaven
  Doth he endeavour to surmount this wall."

100
101
102

The Master thus; and said those worthy people:
  "Return ye then, and enter in before us,"
  Making a signal with the back o' the hand

103
104
105

And one of them began: "Whoe'er thou art,
  Thus going turn thine eyes, consider well
  If e'er thou saw me in the other world."

106
107
108

I turned me tow'rds him, and looked at him closely;
  Blond was he, beautiful, and of noble aspect,
  But one of his eyebrows had a blow divided.

109
110
111

When with humility I had disclaimed
  E'er having seen him, "Now behold!" he said,
  And showed me high upon his breast a wound.

112
113
114

Then said he with a smile: "I am Manfredi,
  The grandson of the Empress Costanza;
  Therefore, when thou returnest, I beseech thee

115
116
117

Go to my daughter beautiful, the mother
  Of Sicily's honour and of Aragon's,
  And the truth tell her, if aught else be told.

118
119
120

After I had my body lacerated
  By these two mortal stabs, I gave myself
  Weeping to Him, who willingly doth pardon.

121
122
123

Horrible my iniquities had been;
  But Infinite Goodness hath such ample arms,
  That it receives whatever turns to it.

124
125
126

Had but Cosenza's pastor, who in chase
  Of me was sent by Clement at that time,
  In God read understandingly this page,

127
128
129

The bones of my dead body still would be
  At the bridge-head, near unto Benevento,
  Under the safeguard of the heavy cairn.

130
131
132

Now the rain bathes and moveth them the wind,
  Beyond the realm, almost beside the Verde,
  Where he transported them with tapers quenched.

133
134
135

By malison of theirs is not so lost
  Eternal Love, that it cannot return,
  So long as hope has anything of green.

136
137
138

True is it, who in contumacy dies
  Of Holy Church, though penitent at last,
  Must wait upon the outside this bank

139
140
141

Thirty times told the time that he has been
  In his presumption, unless such decree
  Shorter by means of righteous prayers become.

142
143
144
145

See now if thou hast power to make me happy,
  By making known unto my good Costanza
  How thou hast seen me, and this ban beside,
For those on earth can much advance us here."

Robert Hollander (English, 2000-2007)
1 - 6

The two 'companions' are running, but not as quickly as the souls who precede them, while Virgil considers his previous inappropriate behavior and Dante his own (as we shall learn in Purg. III.7-9 and III.12-13). The poet, as though apologizing for what he is putting Virgil through in these scenes, reminds the reader of his enduring debt to the pagan poet, without whom this journey through the afterworld would have been impossible.

The word 'ragione' in verse 3 does not mean 'reason' but 'justice,' as is attested by Dante's earlier usage in Convivio (where it nine times refers to law, especially Justinian's codification of Roman statutes – see Vasoli's analytical index to Convivio [Il Convivio, in Dante Alighieri, Opere minori, vol. I, part ii (Milan: Ricciardi, 1988)], pp. 1011-12), and the entire commentary tradition (even if a small subset of commentators believes the word here means 'conscience'). See also Marta Cristiani, 'ragione' (ED.1973.4), pp. 831-41, esp. p. 841. In this context it nearly certainly refers to divine justice.

7 - 9

Virgil's remorse is self-caused. As Venturi (comm. to verse 7) remarked, Virgil rebukes himself even though he could not have been a target of Cato's anger, since he was not a soul on the way to purgation. And thus the little fault applies to him alone, not to Dante and the others (for all of whom it is considerably more serious). Still, the attribution of the fault continues to cause a certain confusion. A fairly typical understanding, with an allegorizing bent, is found in Di Benedetto (“Simboli e moralità nel II canto del Purgatorio,” Giornale storico della letteratura italiana 162 [1985]), pp. 179-80: 'The picciol fallo is that of Virgil, who stands for Reason and thus for Dante himself.... The “trivial fault” is assigned to Dante and the other souls.' Pasquazi (“Catone,” Cultura e scuola 13-14 [1965]), p. 538, on the other hand, sees the phrase as referring to Virgil and not the others. Levitan (“Dante as Listener, Cato's Rebuke, and Virgil's Self-Reproach,” Dante Studies 103 [1985]), pp. 50-54, also notes the differing nature of the guilt afflicting Virgil, whose drama is not one of potential salvation, from that of Dante (and the other Christian souls, one is tempted to add). In this vein see also Hollander (“Purgatorio II: The New Song and the Old,” Lectura Dantis [virginiana] 6 [1990]), p. 40.

10 - 11

The image of Virgil looking somewhat foolish because he is running is the sort of detail one would expect to find in no other medieval poem.

Virgil, here momentarily lacking onestade (dignity), is bracketed by the figures of Cato and the group containing Manfred; both of these are referred to as onesto (Purg. II.119; Purg. III.87).

12 - 13

As Virgil is preoccupied with his minor failing, so Dante is troubled by his own guilty thoughts. Daniello (comm. to verse 12) points to Cato's rebuke (Purg. II.120-121) as the cause of his shame when he considers his hesitation in moving toward the necessary mountain.

15 - 15

The verb dislagarsi (literally meaning 'to unlake itself') is a Dantean coinage, a phenomenon that will grow as the poem progresses and flower in profusion in Paradiso.

16 - 18

Dante's presence here in the body is a double-edged proposition, as it both emphasizes his extraordinary state of grace in being here in the flesh and his debilitated status, resulting from his fleshly view of things. For a study of this phenomenon and its development through the cantica see Philip Berk (“Shadows on the Mount of Purgatory,” Dante Studies 97 [1979], pp. 47-63), who points out that, while we may feel that Dante in Purgatorio all too frequently presents himself as casting a shadow, he in fact does so only six times: here; later in this canto (Purg. III.88-90); then in Purgatorio V.4-6, V.25-27, XXVI.4-8; XXVII.64-69. Berk also makes the point that Dante's corporeal shadow finds a correspondence, later in the canto, in Manfred's wounds (vv. 108, 111), the signs of that soul's former mortality.

19 - 21

Having noted his own shadow, the protagonist now is struck by the absence of Virgil's, and momentarily thinks he has been abandoned by his guide. While, as soon as the travelers reached the shore of the mount of purgatory and reentered the sunlight, the protagonist might have noted that none of the immortal denizens of this new place casts a shadow – not Cato, none of the pilgrims, not his guide – the poet reserves that recognition for this canto, so filled with reminiscence of the death of Virgil.

22 - 24

Benvenuto da Imola's paraphrase of Virgil's rebuke begins with the words 'modicae fidei': ('you of little faith, why have you so easily lost the faith and the hope that you ought and may have in me, who never left you behind in the city of the demons?'). Benvenuto is clearly thinking of the words of Christ in the Gospels (in the Latin Bible the phrase 'modicae fidei' is found four times and only in Matthew [6:30; 8:26; 14:31; 16:8]). If Benvenuto has correctly heard that echo, its effect is noteworthy, for then the faithless Virgil is reproving his pupil, modeling his speech on the words of Christ, for his lack of faith, evident on occasion from the first canto of the Inferno until Virgil leaves the poem in Purgatorio XXX. Whether Virgil is citing Scripture or having Scripture placed in his mouth by his Christian author is a problem the reader has already encountered (see Inf. VIII.45 and the note to Inf. VIII.40-45).

25 - 26

Since it is shortly after dawn here in purgatory, it is shortly after sunset at the antipodes, Jerusalem. And since Italy, in Dante's geography, lies midway between Jerusalem and Gibraltar, it is sometime after 3pm there, as evening (vespero) begins with the sun's last quarter, between 3pm and 6pm.

27 - 27

Virgil died on 21 September 19 B.C. at Brindisi, a city in Apulia that still serves as a port for maritime travelers to and from Greece. Augustus was responsible for the transfer of his body from Brindisi to Naples, or actually, Pozzuoli, some ten miles distant, where it was interred in a grotto in the vast tunnel, built by the ancient Romans, connecting Pozzuoli and the road to Naples. John of Serravalle (comm. to vv. 25-27) records his having visited the site on 30 August 1413 and having held bones of Virgil in his hands. This passage begins what has been called 'an antepurgatorial preoccupation with the body and its place of burial' (by Denise Heilbronn, “Dante's Valley of the Princes,” Dante Studies 90 [1972], p. 44). Selene Sarteschi (“Riflessioni sul canto di Manfredi,” in her Per la “Commedia” e non per essa soltanto [Rome: Bulzoni, 2002 (1999)]), p. 246n., points out that the four presences of the word corpo in this canto represent the word's greatest frequency in any canto of the poem, thus underlining the importance of corporeal concerns with respect to Virgil, Dante, and Manfred.

Pietro di Dante (Pietro1, comm. to vv. 25-27) was perhaps the first to cite Virgil's versified epitaph, as found in the Vitae of Virgil by Suetonius and Donatus:


Mantua me genuit, Calabri rapuere, tenet nunc
Parthenope: cecini pascua, rura, duces.

[Mantua gave me birth, Calabria took me off; now Naples holds me; I sang of pastures, fields, and kings.]

Pietro was followed, among the early commentators, by Benvenuto da Imola (comm. ad loc.) and by John of Serravalle (comm. Purg. VI.67-75).

Virgil 'sang' his Eclogues, Georgics, and Aeneid. For the possible reference to the three Virgilian subjects in the final hundred verses of the canto, see Hollander (“Dante's 'Georgic' [Inferno XXIV, 1-18],” Dante Studies 102 [1984]), p. 114:


46-78: the barren landscape of this scene (rura)
79-102: the contumacious as sheep (pascua)
103-145: Manfred and empire (duces)

In this experimental formulation Dante would, in exactly one hundred lines, have deployed the three 'spokes' of the stylistic rota Vergilii (the wheel of Virgil).

Carroll (comm. to Purg. III.19-33) cites Plumptre for the opinion that this scene reflects the (unverified) tradition that St. Paul visited Virgil's grave at Naples and wept for the great poet, whom, had he but known him, he might have led to salvation.

28 - 30

Dante's heavens include the nine celestial spheres containing the Moon and, as they move higher, eventually no stellar bodies of any kind (the Primum mobile). In Paradiso we will learn that, while they are material, they are also translucent. Something similar is also the case with respect to the shades here.

31 - 33

Virgil here touches on the nature of the 'aerial bodies' of the dead in hell and purgatory. The Roman poet Statius will elaborate on the 'physical' nature of shades in Purgatorio XXV.34-108.

34 - 36

The 'posthumous Christian' ruefully acknowledges, by pointing to reason as his means for attempting to know the essence of things, his failure to have had faith. The reference to reason does not indicate, as some commentators insist, that Virgil embodies or personifies Reason, especially since, in this context, Reason would then be commenting on the shortcomings of reason. Reason is a property (or, in Scholastic terms, an 'accident') of the Roman poet, not his essence.

37 - 37

The quia is a term deriving from Scholastic discourse. Benvenuto da Imola's paraphrase (comm. to vv. 37-39) nicely conveys both that style and precisely what is meant here: 'sufficiat vobis credere quia sic est, et non quaerere propter quid est' (let it suffice you to believe that something is so, without seeking to know why it is so), i.e., to accept things as they are, without attempting to understand their causes.

38 - 39

Some commentators (e.g., Benvenuto) are of the opinion that these lines indicate that had humankind been able to know the final mysteries, Adam and Eve would not have fallen and Christ would not have been needed to save us. It seems far more likely that Dante's thought is more logically connected than such an analysis would indicate: had we known all, there would have been no need for Christ to come to bring us the final truth of things. The focus here is not moral so much as it is intellectual.

40 - 45

Perhaps there is no passage in the poem that more clearly delineates the tragedy of Virgil, now studied by its protagonist himself. His own fourth Eclogue, which spoke of a virgin who would give birth to a son, but did not mean Mary and did not mean Jesus, is symptomatic of how near he came and thus how great was his failure, a result here addressed in an unspoken gesture – his lowering his head – that swells with unshed tears. In the last canto, the newly arrived pilgrims looked up with hope ('la nova gente alzò la fronte' [the new people raised their faces]). The words describing Virgil's silence echo key words from that passage in a contrastive spirit (as noted by Hollander, “Purgatorio II: The New Song and the Old,” Lectura Dantis [virginiana] 6 [1990], p. 36): 'e qui chinò la fronte, / e più non disse, e rimase turbato' [and here he lowered his brow, said nothing more, and seemed disturbed]. As Benvenuto (comm. to vv. 43-45) would have it, it is as though Virgil were saying: 'And woe is me, I was among their number.'

The words in rhyme position in these two tercets underline their message:


Maria quetato
quia Plato
via turbato

One way leads up through faith to Christian truth, mediated by the mortal woman who gave birth to God in the flesh, the other down from this potential happiness, through rational attempts to know the rationally unknowable, to everlasting unhappiness. Mary and Plato are here the very emblems of the choices that we humans face.

46 - 48

There is a sharp dividing line between the elegiac passage devoted to Virgil's consideration of his failure (Purg. III.22-45) and the scene that begins here, with the description of the sheer wall of the mountain and the first attempt at an ascent. For an appreciation of the nonetheless unitary nature of this canto as a whole, see Walther Binni (“Lettura del canto III del Purgatorio,” in his Ancora con Dante [Ravenna: Longo, 1983 (1955)]), p. 9.

49 - 51

Lerici and Turbia are settlements at either end of the Ligurian coast, to either side of Genoa, a region marked by rugged mountains sloping to the sea and, in Dante's roadless day, difficult of access.

52 - 57

Virgil's question and attitude reveal a guide who has not taken this trip previously, as he had in Inferno. Further, while he falls back on the resource of his reason, the futility of which in certain situations has just been explored by the guide himself, his pupil, like the arriving penitents in the last canto (see the note to Purg. III.40-45), does the intuitive and hopeful thing: he looks up.

58 - 60

Having begun their attempt to ascend, Virgil and Dante begin moving leftward out of habit, we must assume. (They will only learn what direction they should be moving in at verse 101.) Our first glimpse of the souls of ante-purgatory marks them as unexcited and slow-moving, attributes that will gain in meaning when we learn more about them.

For helpful references to Classical discussions of the morally charged nature of the directions of human movement (right, up, and ahead are all 'good'; left, down, and behind are all 'bad') see Giorgio Stabile (“Cosmologia e teologia nella Commedia: la caduta di Lucifero e il rovesciamento del mondo,” Letture classensi 12 [1983]), pp. 145-49.

Purgatorio is traditionally divided into three areas: ante-purgatorio, made up of two major zones, Excommunication and Late Repentance (the latter divided into three sub-divisions, containing those dying unabsolved, those marked by negligence, and those who loved the world too much); purgatorio itself (divided into seven terraces, each of which represents one of the Seven Capital Vices), and the earthly paradise at the summit of the mountain. (These divisions and the first naming of 'ante-purgatory' are found in Benvenuto [introductory note to Purg. I].) Thus, like Inferno and Paradiso, Purgatorio is divided into ten large 'parts' (in Inferno Neutrality, lack of faith (Limbo), Lust, Gluttony, Avarice, Anger, Heresy, Violence, Fraud, Treachery; in Paradiso the nine heavens and the Empyrean). However, for another view of the divisions of Purgatorio, see Victoria Kirkham (“I quindici gradi del regno di Catone,” in Letteratura italiana e arti figurative: Atti del XII Convegno dell'Associazione Internazionale per gli Studi di Lingua e Letteratura Italiana [Toronto, Hamilton, Montreal, 6-10 maggio 1985], ed. Antonio Franceschetti [Florence: Olschki, 1988], vol. I, pp. 229-36). Arguing from the Christian numerological tradition that makes fifteen the number of the spiritual ascent to God, she attempts to demonstrate that the second cantica is meaningfully divided into fifteen 'steps.' Her argument depends on an accountancy that may not seem convincing: there are four kinds of negligence, three kinds of pride, and, among the final six terraces, two that are 'double' (avarice and prodigality; heterosexual and homosexual lust), thus yielding a total of fifteen. Further, one might object that this numbering omits both the first and last destinations of the penitent saved soul, 'pre-ante-purgatory,' where such as Casella await the journey to the antipodes (Purg. II.94-105), and the earthly paradise (Purg. XXVIII-XXXIII), which for Kirkham obviously serves as destination rather than stage on the way to spiritual awareness, which is, however, surely to be found in the Empyrean, not in the earthly paradise itself. One probably ends up wondering whether Dante's text itself invites his reader to enumerate the parts of the cantica in this way.

61 - 63

Underlining the difference between the guide's and the protagonist's ways of proceeding, Dante's remark, urging Virgil to look up, intrinsically reveals a reversal of roles, as was noted by Margherita Frankel (“La similitudine della zara [Purg. VI, 1-12] ed il rapporto fra Dante e Virgilio nell'Antepurgatorio,” in Studi Americani su Dante, ed. G. C. Alessio and R. Hollander [Milan: F. Angeli, 1989]), pp. 120-21. It is not the master who is giving instructions but the pupil; throughout the little scene that follows one can sense Virgil's effort to regain his attenuated authority.

72 - 72

The souls are puzzled by what they see, two figures moving in the wrong direction (to the left) on this holy mountain, as Benvenuto da Imola was perhaps first to suggest. Not only are they going in the wrong direction, they are also moving quickly, not at the reverential and thoughtful pace of penitence.

73 - 78

Virgil's captatio benevolentiae (the attempt to capture the goodwill of one's auditors) here, like the one he addressed to Cato in the first canto (Purg. I.70-84), reveals, as Margherita Frankel has been perhaps alone in arguing (“La similitudine della zara [Purg. VI, 1-12] ed il rapporto fra Dante e Virgilio nell'Antepurgatorio,” in Studi Americani su Dante, ed. G. C. Alessio and R. Hollander [Milan: F. Angeli, 1989], pp. 122-24), another example of his not understanding his own limitations. His epigrammatic concluding utterance, though taken in bono by commentator after commentator (and perhaps most pleasingly in the commentary of Benvenuto [to these verses], who goes on to claim that Dante himself was most prudent in using his time, so that he managed to get his Commedia finished before he died), shows him once again getting things a bit garbled. The self-assured turn of phrase, 'The more we know, the more we hate time's waste,' indicates that he is still without understanding of the positive aspects of not knowing, of not hurrying – two aspects of the saved souls whom he addresses that, as the following simile will make unmistakably clear, are praiseworthy in the Christian context of this scene.

79 - 87

The sole extended comparison of the canto centers attention on the need for faith untroubled by reason. These sheep, following and imitating their bellwether, are presented positively for their humility and faithfulness. See Richard Lansing (From Image to Idea: A Study of the Simile in Dante's “Commedia” [Ravenna: Longo, 1977]), pp. 47-53, for a discussion of this simile, contrasting the humility exemplified here in Manfred (whom we shall soon come to understand is the 'bellwether' in the simile), whose life was marked by the opposite vice, presumption, in his opposition to the Church. In one of his typical outbursts against his intellectual enemies in Convivio, Dante calls them stupid and compares them to sheep (Conv. I.xi.9-10), those sheep that follow their leader in jumping into a ravine a mile deep (is that phrasing, 'mille passi,' remembered in the same phrase at verse 68, above? Frankel [“La similitudine della zara (Purg. VI, 1-12) ed il rapporto fra Dante e Virgilio nell'Antepurgatorio,” in Studi Americani su Dante, ed. G. C. Alessio and R. Hollander (Milan: F. Angeli, 1989)], p. 124, is of that opinion). Citation of this passage in Convivio was perhaps first brought into play by Daniello (comm. to vv.79-84), but it is only recently that readers have begun to understand that the ovine images in this simile work against the assertion found in the Convivial outburst. Its prideful, even presumptuous, tone is here countermanded by the poet's better understanding of the virtues of sheep, as the arrogance of prideful philosophizing gives way to Christian piety.

In his commentary to this passage, Singleton notes the appropriateness of the 77th Psalm (77:52 [78:52]), recapitulating the Exodus with these words: 'But [God] made his own people go forth like sheep, and guided them in the wilderness like a flock.' It seems clear that such traditional Judeo-Christian images of the flock of the just govern this simile.

93 - 93

If we had not sensed the importance of humble acts committed by those 'not knowing why' in Purgatorio III.84, the fact that the souls, now described directly, repeat what had been done within the simile reinforces the importance of the point. Denise Heilbronn (“Dante's Valley of the Princes,” Dante Studies 90 [1972]), p. 45, typifies the spirit of the portrayals of the souls in ante-purgatory as follows: 'These souls are suspended in a limbo different from Virgil's. Not quite detached from the place they have left, they are on the right road yet cannot move; not quite sure where they are headed, they are poised between memory and anticipation.'

94 - 96

For Dante's shadow, see the note to Purgatorio III.16-18.

101 - 102

The saved souls now express their concern: Dante and Virgil are heading in the wrong direction (see Margherita Frankel, “La similitudine della zara (Purg. VI, 1-12) ed il rapporto fra Dante e Virgilio nell'Antepurgatorio,” in Studi Americani su Dante, ed. G. C. Alessio and R. Hollander [Milan: F. Angeli, 1989], pp. 121-22). They are thus aesthetically and morally disturbing as newcomers to purgatory. They seem obviously entitled to be present but somehow not to have gotten their copy of this club's booklet describing Proper Conduct for Members.

The gesture that they make is puzzling to American readers, who give the sign for 'stop!' or 'go back!' by extending their palms outward. As Lombardi (comm. to verse 102) calmly points out, 'The gesture referred to here by the poet is exactly the one with which we signal to others that they should turn and retrace their steps.' Experience on Tuscan streets and paths even today will verify this.

103 - 105

Manfred died (February 1266) some eight or nine months after Dante was born. His question is thus groundless, notwithstanding the exertions of commentators like Tommaseo (comm. to these verses), Andreoli (comm. to verse 105), and Poletto (to these verses) who argue that Dante, as a deeply thoughtful man, looked old for his age. The utterly human perception that lies behind the poet's lending Manfred this question is that the great and famous are used to being recognized, and often assume that everybody has seen them, even if they themselves tend to have small recollection of the many whom they have encountered. On the other hand, his question may also be a hopeful one, i.e., if this living soul happens to recognize him, Manfred hopes that he will cause others to pray for him – see Purgatorio V.49-50, where other late-repentant souls make similar requests.

107 - 108

The 'realism' of the detail of this scarred eyebrow has drawn much admiration. Singleton's comment (comm. to this verse) cites Augustine, De civ. Dei XXII.xix.3: 'For, in the martyrs, such wounds will not be a deformity; they will have a dignity and loveliness all their own; and, though this radiance will be spiritual and not physical, it will, in some way, beam from their bodies.' He goes on to suggest that Manfred, though excommunicated by the Church, nonetheless is treated here as a sort of martyr, 'persecuted' by that very Church.

Having once seen John Fitzgerald Kennedy standing in a convertible moving up Fifth Avenue on a magnificent sun-filled autumn afternoon in October of 1960, shortly before he was elected president of his country, his shock of red-blond hair dazzling in the sunlight, the writer cannot read this passage without remembering that other handsome, womanizing, self-confident leader who would also die wounded in the head.

For a Biblical passage that Dante possibly had in mind as he described Manfred, see Grandgent (comm. to verse 107): 'Cf. 1 Samuel 16:12: “Now he [David] was ruddy, and withal of a beautiful countenance and goodly to look at.”' Manfred's resemblance to David has been reasserted by various later commentators. Bosco/Reggio (comm. to vv. 106-120) add a similar description of Roland in the Chanson de Roland (verse 2278: 'Bels fut e forz e de grant vasselage'). John Freccero (Dante: The Poetics of Conversion, ed. Rachel Jacoff [Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1986]), pp. 206-7, sees a resemblance to the similarly handsome and ill-fated Marcellus (Aen. VI.860-885). However, the literal context does not seem to support this analogy and it may be more appropriate to consider another Virgilian antecedent to Manfred, the tragic figure of Deiphobus (Aen. VI.495-499), who attempts to hide his wounds from Aeneas, his mangled ears and his nose ('truncas inhonesto volnere naris' [his nostrils laid bare by a shameful wound – Aen. VI.498]). Deiphobus, desiring not to be recognized by his wounds, is, in this understanding, a foil to Manfred, eager to display the wound in his chest. Perhaps the first commentator to note this correspondence was Mattalia (comm. to verse 111); and see Hollander (“Dante's 'Georgic' [Inferno XXIV, 1-18],” Dante Studies 102 [1984]), p. 119.

111 - 111

Manfred's second wound (the poet will insist on the importance of the fact that he has two visible wounds in verse 119), perhaps reminiscent of the wound in Christ's side (John 19:34; 20:25), causes the reader to consider the possible significances of these two marks on his body. Perhaps we are to understand that the first wound, in his brow, traditionally and in Dante the locus of pride (see Inf. X.45 and the note to Inf. X.45; Inf. XXXIV.35 and the note to Inf. XXXIV.35), is the sign of his pride brought low, his mark of Cain, as it were, now made good in his gesture of revealing his other wound, his mark of Christ, the seal of his humility. Torraca (comm. to vv. 109-111) is nearly alone in seeing the resemblance, antithetic though it be, between the gestures of self-revelation in displaying wounds found in Manfred here and in Mohammed (Inf. XXVIII.29-31); and see the similar appreciation in Denise Heilbronn (“Dante's Valley of the Princes,” Dante Studies 90 [1972]), p. 43.

112 - 112

Manfred's smile is part of a 'program' of smiling found in the two final cantiche (see the note to Purg. II.83). His way of naming himself seems to be part of a program limited to the ante-purgatory, the only part of the poem in which characters name themselves using this formula ('io son' followed by their own name). Manfred's smiling self-identification stands out from the evasive behavior in this regard exhibited by most of the sinners in hell. For the others who employ this formula see Purgatorio V.88 (Buonconte da Montefeltro), Purgatorio VI.34 (Sordello), Purgatorio VII.7 (Virgil). In the less personal exchanges in Paradiso only St. Bonaventure uses a version of it: 'Io son la vita di Bonaventura...' (Par. XII.127). There the great Franciscan identifies himself as a living heavenly soul.

Born ca. 1231, Manfred was the illegitimate son of the emperor Frederick II and Bianca Lancia, and thus the natural grandson of Emperor Henry VI and Constance of Sicily. He was also the father, by his wife Beatrice of Savoy, of Constance, who married King Peter III of Aragon (see Purg. III.115-116). When Frederick died in 1250, Manfred was appointed regent of Sicily in the absence of his brother, Conrad IV, involved elsewhere. When Conrad died, in 1254, leaving the realm to his three-year-old son, Conradin, Manfred again became regent. At the rumors of the child's death, in 1258 (he would in fact survive another ten years), Manfred was crowned king in Palermo. This did not sit well with the pope, and Alexander IV excommunicated him in 1258, as did Urban IV in 1261. Urban offered the vacated forfeited crown to Louis IX of France who, refusing it, opened the path to an invitation of Charles of Anjou, who accepted. Once Charles was crowned in Rome in January 1266, he set out to destroy Manfred, an aim that he accomplished the next month at the battle of Benevento. A lover of the 'good life' at court, a fervent Ghibelline, a man charged (whether correctly or not) with a number of murders of his cofamiliars, supposedly undertaken to advance his political hopes, Manfred was not, at least not in Guelph eyes, a selection for salvation that could have been calculated to win sympathy to the work that contained such news. It is at least reasonable to believe that the first damned soul we see in hell is Celestine V (see the note to Inf. III.58-60), a pope of saintly habits; here the first soul we find saved on the mountain is the excommunicated Manfred. Whatever else Dante enjoyed doing as he wrote this poem, he clearly delighted in shocking his readers – as though the salvation of Cato, with which the cantica begins, were not incredible enough for us.

On the problems raised for commentators by the salvation of the excommunicated Manfred see Louis La Favia (“Per una reinterpretazione dell'episodio di Manfredi,” Dante Studies 91 [1973]), who points out that a letter of Pope Innocent III dating from 1199 fully supports the notion that an excommunicate can eventually be saved, a position, as he demonstrates, that was not nearly as shocking to Dante's earliest readers as it would later become. La Favia produces the key portion of that Latin text (pp. 87-88).

113 - 113

Manfred does not identify himself as his father's son (Frederick II is, after all, condemned to hell for heresy: Inf. X.119) but by reference to his paternal grandmother, Constance (1154-98), daughter of Roger II, king of Sicily, and wife of Emperor Henry VI, by whom she became the mother of Frederick. As Benvenuto uniquely (among the early commentators) points out, Dante has borrowed this tactic from Polynices who, questioned about his lineage by the king of Argos, Adrastus, in Statius's Thebaid, prefers to omit the name of Oedipus in favor of that of his mother, Jocasta (Theb. I.676-681). Porena (comm. to vv. 112-113) notes that Dante himself had remembered this scene in Convivio (Conv. IV.xxx.10), laying the avoidance on Polynices' part both to his desire to omit reference to his own harsh actions against his father as well as to keep concealed Oedipus's evil deeds. Hermann Gmelin (Kommentar: der Läuterungsberg [Stuttgart: Klett, 1955]), p. 79, offers further discussion.

117 - 117

The poet's self-awareness is unmistakable here. Hardly anyone in his time would have consented to the notion that Manfred had been saved. He places this reference to the imagined dubiety of those who might hear such news (i.e., by reading Dante's poem) in the mouth of his character and it is our turn to smile. Yet we can imagine how many Guelphs and churchmen would have fumed at this passage, adamant in their vehement and unflagging belief that Manfred had been damned.

121 - 123

The sinners in hell, we must assume, failed exactly to do, even at the last moment of their lives, what Manfred did. While he is held back from purgation for the insubordination that resulted in his excommunication, he, too, is a late-repentant saved soul.

124 - 129

The archbishop of Cosenza, in Calabria, enlisted by Pope Clement IV in his battles against Manfred's Ghibellines, was responsible, at the end, for disinterring his corpse, buried under the cairn of stones piled upon his body by Guelph troops after the battle of Benevento.

There is some dispute as to the precise meaning of the word faccia here. Does it mean 'face' or 'page'? For the former, see Freccero (Dante: The Poetics of Conversion, ed. Rachel Jacoff [Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1986]), p. 206. For 'faccia' as page, see Frankel (“Dante's Anti-Virgilian villanello,” Dante Studies 102 [1984]), p. 107. The page in God's writing indicated here is perhaps found at Revelation 20:12, the reference to the Book of Life, in which are recorded the names of the saved, including, we must reflect, that of Manfred. Further, three particulars lend support to those who argue for 'page,' faccia as an apocopation of facciata: (1) While most of the early commentators are vague in their readings of this verse, those who wrote in the Renaissance and after tend to find this interpretation more natural; (2) modern commentators mainly prefer 'face,' if without the sort of convincing argument that might conclude the debate; (3) the archbishop of Cosenza, we might reflect, obviously had no direct experience of God's presence (at least not in Dante's mind), but he surely did have some kind of access to the Scripture, although he evidently – at least in Dante's eyes – understood it poorly.

130 - 130

In the wake Tommaseo (comm. to vv. 130-132) many modern commentators suggest that there is a reference here to Virgil's Palinurus (Aen. VI.362): 'Nunc me fluctus habet versantque in litore venti' (Now the waves have me and the winds hurl me onto the beach). See the notes to Purgatorio V.91-93 and VI.28-33.

131 - 135

Adding insult to the injury of disinterment, the archbishop ordered Manfred's remains to be cast back into the world. They had first at least been allowed burial in unconsecrated ground with the ceremony prescribed for the excommunicate ('with torches quenched'). And so the corpse is put out of the Kingdom of Naples and Sicily onto a bank of the river Verde, today the Liri.

The name of the river, Verde (green), however, stands intrinsically opposed to such purpose, since it both traditionally represents the virtue of hope and happens to have been the color that Manfred himself favored. And thus the identical rhyme 'Verde/verde' underlines the hopeful sign that Manfred's faith believed would come and his love longed for. The Church's human agents may not understand God's hidden disposition.

The final phrase here, 'ha fior del verde,' has caused much difficulty. Lombardi (comm. to verse 135) paraphrases the passage as follows: 'so long as death does not entirely dry up hope, but leaves a single thread of it green.' The spirit of comedy in this canto overcomes the atmosphere of tragedy. We might reflect that this is the first true narrative of the Purgatorio (neither Cato nor Casella gives the sort of perfectly formed autobiographical performance to which we have become accustomed in Inferno). The first cantica has trained us to expect “tragedy,” the tale told, from the sinner's point of view, of death and damnation. Unconsciously, we may expect exactly that sort of narrative here. And it surely seems to be similar, with its story of horrific death and undignified burial; yet here we find the tragic surmounted by the comic resolution offered by redemption. Thus Manfred's narrative is set as a pattern for all those we shall hear in Purgatory. For a discussion of Manfred's narrative as tragic in tone and comic in result, see Selene Sarteschi (“Riflessioni sul canto di Manfredi,” in her Per la “Commedia” e non per essa soltanto [Rome: Bulzoni, 2002 (1999)]), p. 237.

139 - 139

For a possible precursor for this period of delay, see Aeneid VI.325-30, the one hundred years of wandering exacted of the souls of the unburied dead before they are permitted to cross Acheron, a connection perhaps first suggested by Daniello (comm. to vv. 136-141). But this does not explain Dante's choice of the number thirty. It is not until the twentieth century that one finds a commentator wondering about the possible reasons for this choice: Grandgent (comm. to this verse): 'Why thirty? See E. G. Gardner in the Modern Language Review, IX, 63. In Deuteronomy 34:8, we read: “the children of Israel wept for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days. Hence the early Christian practice of saying prayers for the dead for thirty days after decease. Out of this grew the ”Trental of St. Gregory,“ or thirty masses on thirty feast days through the year.' Trucchi (comm. to vv. 136-141) resuscitates a previously unnoted observation of Francesco da Buti, recalling the tale told by Gregory the Great in his Dialogues: the ghost of a monk named Justus who, buried excommunicate for having fathered children, was redeemed when thirty masses said by Gregory set things right. Another analogue, offered by a Princeton student, Gerald Dal Pan '82, in an examination paper in 1980, is worthy of discussion: the thirty years of Jesus's life before he was baptized and entered by the Holy Spirit, when He took on his mission in the world (Luke 3:25).

Torraca (comm. to vv. 136-139) suggests that Manfred lived nine years under the ban of excommunication and thus had a sentence of 270 years in ante-purgatory when he died in 1266, thus leaving him 236 years to wait before commencing his purgation. However, since Dante's poem surely brought a storm of prayers to Heaven, he may have finished his penitential waiting much earlier than that.

143 - 143

The third cantos of both Purgatorio and Paradiso are centrally involved with two women known as 'Constance,' here the grandmother and daughter of Manfred, there Piccarda Donati, whose name as a nun was Constance, and the other Constance, also a nun, who accompanies her when the two of them appear to Dante in the sphere of the Moon. It is perhaps worth considering that Inferno III, in which the wavering neutrals are depicted, involves those who were, most decidedly, inconstant. See Isidore of Seville, Etymologies X.40: 'Constans dictus quod undique stat, nec in aliquam partem declinari potest' (One is said to be constant because, wherever he takes his stand, he cannot be diverted in another direction). In this tentative hypothesis all three third cantos would thus be linked by their thematic concern with constancy.

For bibliography of discussions of this canto see Luigi Scorrano (”Dall'abbandono alla bontà riconquistata [Purgatorio III],“ L'Alighieri 16 [2000]), pp. 69-71.