Beatrice apostrophizes the heavenly host (minus Christ and Mary, who have now both ascended to the Empyrean) on behalf of Dante. She hopes that they will share their “meal,” as it were, with her pupil. It would seem, given the reference to St. Peter in the last four verses of the preceding canto and given the phrase in the first verse of this one, “sodalizio eletto a la gran cena” (a fairly evident allusion to the Last Supper), that Beatrice, while not forgetting all who are now 'seated' at that 'meal,' addresses herself in particular to the twelve apostles, three of whom take a major role in the cantos in the heaven of the fixed stars, XXIII-XXVII.

This is one of the three cantos (of the thirty-three in which she might have done so, Purg. XXXI through Par. XXX) in which she speaks the opening lines. See also Purgatorio XXXI and Paradiso V.

For this and other examples of the “metaphorical density” of this canto, so often attacked for its poetic poverty, see Pietro De Marchi (“Canto XXIV,” in Lectura Dantis Turicensis: Paradiso, ed. Georges Güntert and Michelangelo Picone [Florence: Cesati, 2002], pp. 380-82), with a table indicating some twenty areas of human activity into which Dante here dips his pen.

This verse/tercet is made up of “loaded” terms, the first of which is sodalizio: Jacopo della Lana says there are four kinds of fellowship: in battle, “compagni”; on voyages, “comiti”; in business: “colleghi”; at table, “sodali.” For a likely “source” for Dante's choice of the word eletto, see Matthew 22:14: “Multi enim sunt vocati, pauci vero electi” (For many are called, but few are chosen). For the phrase la gran cena, see the Book of Revelation (Apoc. 19.9): “Beati qui ad coenam nuptiarum agni vocati sunt” (Blessed are they who are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb) and Luke (14.16): “coenam magnam” (great banquet). See Benvenuto (comm. vv. 1-3): «Ad primum veniens dico, quod autor describit orationem Beatricis ad collegium apostolorum, in qua primo facit exordium ad captandam benevolentiam, dicens: O sodalizio, idest, o consortium apostolorum; nam sodalis proprie est socius in mensa; unde dicit: eletto alla gran cena, idest, ad coenam Domini in die Jovis sancti, et per consequens ad coenam aeternam, del benedetto Agnello, scilicet, Christi, qui agnus immaculatus immolatus est pro salute nostra».

The verb prelibare (to have a foretaste) is a striking one. We have seen it once before (at Par. X.23). It has also been used in De vulgari (I.iv.5) and in Dante's Epistles (VI.24). All these occurrences are recorded in the entry “prelibare” by Antonio Lanci in the Enciclopedia dantesca (ED IV [1971]), which, however, omits the two occurrences in the Epistle to Cangrande (XIII.42 and XIII.46). Its use here may remind us of its presence there, where it indicates the opening passage of the cantica, the foretaste of (or prologue to) what is coming.

For the crumbs of bread that fall from the banquet of philosophy, see Convivio I.i.10; is this a correction of that passage, substituting a better “meal,” communion in Christ, for the one portrayed there? For the last canticle as the “completed Convivio,” see the note to Paradiso III.91-96.

The line may be construed “before death appoint him his time” or “before time appoint him his death.” Grammar makes both possible; the commentators, however, seem sure of the first reading.

For this image, see Aeneid VI.230, rore levi (light dew), as was first suggested by Tommaseo (comm. to vv. 7-9).

The commentators take the “source” variously, whether divine grace, eternal life, God's thoughts, or divine truth.

These souls whirl, upon a central point, in circles. They look like comets because they have tails of light; however, they apparently maintain their circular orbits, that is, are not errant in their motions, as actual comets are.

The simile clarifies the motion of these “comets.” Like the flywheels of a mechanical clock, some move more quickly than others; however, here greater speed is the mark of greater worthiness, as we learn from vv. 19-21.

Among the earlier commentators, only John of Serravalle (comm. to these verses) perceives and expresses the precise resemblance between the simile's tenor and vehicle. For him the circling groups of dancers and the flywheels are precisely related in their varying grades of joy, their greater and lesser speeds revealing their relative degrees of blessedness. He does not go on to observe, and nearly five centuries would pass until Poletto would do so (comm. to these verses), that, since we are seeing the Church Militant, the circles that we are observing here might well be the circles we observe there (in Canto XXXII), that is, the “rows” in the round “amphitheater” of the Rose. In that case, all those who seem to believe that this circle contains only apostles need to revise their opinion. The highest tier of the Rose contains Mary (Par. XXXII.1); John the Baptist (XXXII.31); Adam, Peter, John (as scribe of the Apocalypse), Moses, Anna, and Lucy (all referred to in XXXII.118-137). All of these, we must assume, are in that circling dance from which issues Peter now, and James and John in the next canto. Are all the apostles in this rank? Dante does not choose to tell us. We probably should not assume that they are, as do the commentators who, reading that three of them are in this group, go on, quite reasonably (or so it must have appeared to them) to assume that the twelve apostles are here – and are the only ones here. Both of these may well be false deductions. Three apostles do not a dozen make. We are surely encouraged (as was Poletto) to believe that Dante thought that souls other than apostles are in this circle (very likely a correct view); however, it is not clear that no other apostles are in it (this last would seem a more dubious proposition; e.g., would not Dante have included, e.g., Matthew, Mark, and Luke?). It is difficult to understand why Poletto's understanding of these verses has not entered the discussion of them, which remains, as a result, maddeningly vague. See Hollander (“Paradiso 24.13-21: St. Peter's Companions,” Electronic Bulletin of the Dante Society of America [May 2006]). Now, and for a more “apostolic” view, see the notes to Par. XXIII.130-135 and to vv. 1-9 and v. 1, above.

For a much earlier listing, which also refers to the population of the top tier of the Rose, see the note to Paradiso IV.29-30. In those lines we learn that Moses, both Johns, Mary, and Samuel are probably there; the first four are indeed confirmed as being in the highest row by the text of Paradiso XXXII.

Tozer (comm. to vv. 13-15): “A simile of the same kind, derived from the works of clocks, is found in Paradiso X.139-42, only there it is the striking apparatus which is spoken of. Il primo: the innermost, while l'ultimo is the outermost. In comparison of the rapid motion of the outer wheel the inner wheel appears to be at rest.”

The word carola (lit. “carol”) here refers to a style of dancing. See Aulo Greco (“Il canto XXIV del Paradiso,” Nuove letture dantesche, vol. VII [Florence: Le Monnier, 1974], pp. 112-13) for the distinction between a danza (dance) and a carola (reel), in which dancers in circles or in straight lines hand each other off to a next (temporary) partner. But see Landino (comm. to vv. 16-18) for the most economical explanation: “Chosì quelle carole, idest anime che si giravono; proprio carola che significa ballo tondo, differentemente danzando, et per questa differentia dimostra più et meno beatitudine, et però dice mi si faceano stimare veloci et lente della sua richeza” (Thus were these “carols,” i.e., souls, turning. “Carol” signifies “round dance.” “Moving to a different measure” in such a way as to reveal more and less beatitude; and therefore [the poet] says “made me gauge their gladness” by its wealth [italics added]).

However, one may want to consider that two of the early commentators, Benvenuto (comm. to vv. 13-18) and his “pupil,” John of Serravalle (comm. to vv. 13-18), refer to carola as indicating a vas or vasello (vase, vessel) used by ladies to store precious items (Benvenuto mentions spoons; John, jewels).

The enjambement of the adverb “differente-mente” surely calls attention to the poet's hand. Tommaseo (comm. to vv. 16-18) refers to the adverb “caninamente” of Inferno VI.14, as does Campi (comm. to vv. 16-18), who suggests that both are not so much adverbs as adjective and noun used as in a Latin ablative absolute, and thus written canina mente and differente mente.

From among the “dancers” and from the group of them that was most joyful, evidently the one that includes the apostles, came a “flame” that was as bright as any other there. We perhaps need to be reminded that Dante is beholding the Church Triumphant, minus Jesus and Mary. When we examine the inhabitants of the Rose (Par. XXXII.118), we will see that the only two apostles mentioned there (Peter and John) are in the highest rank in that great stadium. Their situation here lends support to those who believe that the group set apart here is also apostolic. But see the note to vv. 13-18.

The dancer who is most precious (“of greater value”) is St. Peter; he will not be named until Canto XXV.12. For the second appearance of the noun carezza, see Paradiso XXV.33.

Peter's higher worth among even such exalted company as this is indicated by his greater brightness.

Peter circles Beatrice three times, as he will do again at the end of the canto (verse 152), on that occasion circling Dante. This number, that of the Trinity, is obviously auspicious. (Some later commentators see it as the number of the three theological virtues; since Peter appears here as the representative of only one, Faith, that would seem a less likely reference here.) However, and as other passages will remind us, it is also the number of times Peter betrays Jesus (see Matthew 26:34, 26:75; Mark 14:30, 14:72; Luke 22:34, 22:61). This might not be a case convincingly made on the basis of this verse alone; but see the note to vv. 124-126.

The fantasia, the image-receiving capacity of the brain, receives sounds as well, as this passage makes clear.

The familiar image of Dante as scribe is before us again, but now in non-forthcoming mode. His dictator (his phantasy) cannot bring Peter's song of affection for Beatrice back to mind, and so his pen must omit it.

Daniello (comm. to vv. 22-27) is apparently the only reader of this canto to think of the context offered this scene by the weaving contest between Athena and Arachne. He does so in order to place the painterly technique (the representation of folds in a garment) referred to here in an Ovidian context (Metam. VI.61-66). Jacopo della Lana (comm. to vv. 26-27) was the first to make the now common observation that this verse describes the way a painter would depict the folds in a garment, by using darker colors for them.

Dante laments the coarseness of the art of his time (his own included), which is simply not up to the challenge of representing such delicate shadings, whether visually or verbally. What he does reproduce is what Peter says to Beatrice, i.e., the words that he speaks after he has stopped singing. She, he reports, has loosed him from the sphere he was circling in (see verse 11) and he, as a result, may serve as Dante's interlocutor.

And now Dante does reassume his role as scribe, setting down the words that Peter uttered after he had finished his (unrecorded) song. No other section of the poem has more uses of the noun for “breath,” spiro, and the verb for “inspire” or “breathe into,” spirare (Par. XXIII.104, XXIV.82, XXV.82, XXV.132, XXVI.3, XXVI.103). The self-consciousness of these lines is telling: Peter, inspired (the word the poet uses for his breath, spiro, is nearly surely intended to remind us of the spiration of the Holy Spirit), utters words that Dante, his scribe, can tell us (and just has). See the notes to Purgatorio XXIV.55-63 and Paradiso VI.88.

From this tercet we realize that the “everlasting light” (we remember that this light was the most brilliant among its companions in the Church Triumphant at verse 21) addressed by Beatrice is St. Peter. For Jesus left the “keys of the kingdom” (Matthew 16:19) to Peter. In the tradition of Roman Catholicism, this signified that Jesus picked him to be the first pope, presiding over, among other things, the departure of the saved and damned souls for the afterlife.

Beatrice invites Peter to examine Dante on the theological virtue Faith, both its major tenets and its lesser aspects. For the word tenta, see the note to verse 48.

Peter's walking on water displayed his faith in Jesus, but also revealed the tenuous nature of that faith when he doubts and begins to sink, causing Jesus to castigate him: “O you of little faith” (Matthew 14.28-33). And so here Beatrice is remembering Peter's noble beginning and suppressing reference to the far less impressive conclusion of the biblical narrative. See the note to vv. 124-126.

Beatrice concludes her intervention on Dante's behalf by acknowledging that Peter already knows that her pupil passes muster on the three theological virtues. On the other hand, it is Dante's responsibility to glorify these, most of all Faith.

The three verbs of this verse obviously reflect the three theological virtues, Love, Hope, and Faith, in that order, as was apparent from the very beginning of the commentary tradition (see Jacopo della Lana on this verse).

The medieval bachelor's examination in theology, some elements of which still persist in oral doctoral examinations in a few fields at a few institutions in our day, is rehearsed here. A bachelor was a candidate for the first degree in the field, just as today. The examination was administered by a magister (master); he certified the bachelor as being worthy of entering the pursuit of the doctorate in theology, probably his own goal as well.

A quarter of a century ago Alex Sheers, in a seminar at Princeton, suggested that the language here sounded Pauline. See Ephesians 6:16: scutum fidei (the shield of faith); I Thessalonians 5:8: loricam fidei et caritatis (the breastplate of faith and love); I Timothy 6:12: certamen fidei (the good fight of faith). And now, for a similar examination of some possible Pauline sources, see Aversano (Dante daccapo [glosses to the Paradiso], copia d'eccezione, sent by the author on 11 September 2001), p. 110.

The magister intervenes, not to settle the question (quaestio, a formal exercise in debate in which the answer is known or assumed), but to formulate it - as Peter is about to do.

See Scartazzini (comm. to vv. 47-48) for a full discussion of the dispute that has followed this verse through the centuries. And see Tozer's explanation (comm. to vv. 46-48): “The allusion here is to what took place in the mediaeval Universities. The 'Master' is a duly licensed teacher, and the Bachelor a student who is preparing for the office of teacher. The Bachelor at one stage of his preparatory course was required to pass through a form of examination, which was called 'Disputatio tentativa,' before a Master, who propounded the subject of this (la question). Usually in such cases a number of opponents were appointed to combat the candidate's arguments (see Rashdall, The Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages, vol. I., p. 466). In the present instance, however, this is not supposed to happen, and the proofs advanced lead up to a conclusion which is recognized as well established, so that the candidate has no need [to] terminar la questione. Similarly, St. Peter propounds the question, and Dante adduces what he considers to be the fitting arguments, but the conclusion is determined beforehand. The title 'disputatio tentativa' is probably referred to in the word tenta in l. 37.”

Tozer (comm. to these verses) divides the ensuing “examination” into five parts, as follows: “The subjects of the questions and answers in what follows are: (1) what faith is (ll. 52-66); (2) how Dante understands St. Paul's definition of faith (ll. 67-82); (3) whether Dante possesses faith (ll. 83-87); (4) whence he derived his faith (ll. 88-96); (5) what is the evidence of the inspiration of Scripture, on which he bases his faith (ll. 97-111).”

Dante turns to Peter and then to Beatrice, who signals that he should, in metaphor, “pour forth the waters” of his answer. As Grandgent was apparently the first to notice (comm. to verse 57), the passage is possibly a calque on Christ's words (John 7:38: “He who believes in me, as the Scripture says, 'From within him there shall flow rivers of living water'”). It is interesting that here, as later (vv. 64-65, when he will turn to Paul for the definition of Faith), Dante never uses the words of his examiner to define this theological virtue. It is all very well to explain (as does Carroll [comm. to vv. 52-66]) that Peter never offered a definition of it, with the result that Dante had, therefore, to resort to St. Paul. The question then remains (in addition to the nagging question of Paul's absence from the cast of characters who perform a part in the poem), why did Dante choose to give Peter so prominent a role with regard to Faith? And, for the question of Paul's importance to Dante, see the last items in the note to Inferno XXXI.67.

For an interesting hypothesis, suggesting that the puzzling reference to the “phoenix” in a sonnet of Cino da Pistoia, “Infra gli altri diffetti del libello,” is put forward as an angry response to Dante's omission of Paul from the citizenry of Paradise (as described in Par. XXXII), see Fabian Alfie (“Re-reading the Phoenix: An Interpretation of Cino da Pistoia's 'Infra gli altri diffetti del libello,'” Italian Culture 21 [2003]: 11-14). Alfie agrees with those students of Cino who argue that this sonnet is authentic, against those who, for what tend to be spurious reasons, want to keep it separate from his authentic production. He also quite correctly reasons that the supposed reference of the “phoenix” to Cino's poetic lady friend Selvaggia makes little sense, not least because Selvaggia only died in 1306, and thus could not have yet been in Heaven to be seen by Dante.

Cf. Inferno I.79-80: “Or se' tu quel Virgilio e quella fonte / che spandi di parlar sì largo fiume?” (Are you then Virgil, the fountainhead / that pours so full a stream of speech?). Consultation of the DDP reveals that apparently no one has seen what seems a fairly obvious self-citation, perhaps because it would seem to have Beatrice promote Dante to Virgil's status, making him, and not the Latin poet, a “source” or “fountainhead”; nonetheless, that is approximately what has transpired within the narrative.

While this tercet would qualify, formally, as a true invocation, it is uttered by the protagonist rather than by the poet, and thus falls outside the set of nine authorial invocations (see the note to Inf. II.7-9); cf. Giuseppe Ledda (La guerra della lingua [Ravenna: Longo, 2002]), p. 32n.

“Centurion,” our translation, is the generic term; Dante, however, uses a word that needs some explanation. Peter is presented as the primipilus among “Christian soldiers.” The term refers to the standard-bearer in the Roman army who throws the first javelin (primum pilum) in battle. Benvenuto da Imola (comm. to vv. 58-60) was the first to say that the word was found in Isidore of Seville; he has been followed by several later commentators (e.g., Campi [comm. to vv. 58-60], Torraca [comm. to vv. 58-60], Scartazzini/Vandelli [comm. to vv. 58-59], Pietrobono [comm. to this verse], Sapegno [comm. to vv. 58-60], Mattalia [comm. to this verse]). However, none offers a specific textual location for the description; furthermore, consultation of the Etymologies does not reveal any even promising leads. (Daniello [comm. to vv. 58-60] indicates a possible source in the Roman miltary historian Vegetius [cited by Dante in Mon. II.ix.3], in particular De re militari II.viii.)

Dante's claim for the trustworthiness of even the writing instruments of sacred texts, clear from the phrase “the truthful pen,” reflects his concern for that basic distinction between two kinds of writing, truthful and fabulous (i.e., historical and fictive), that runs from one end of the Commedia to the other.

Dante's locution necessarily calls attention to the fact that Peter did not in fact write about faith, a task that he left for Paul. See the notes to vv. 52-57 and to vv. 124-126.

As Paul said (Hebrews 11:1): “Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen – that is its quiddity.” Aulo Greco (“Il canto XXIV del Paradiso,” Nuove letture dantesche, vol. VII [Florence: Le Monnier, 1974], p. 120) reports that Aquinas, in his De fide, says that it is in fact the best definition of this theological virtue.

We should remember that Hebrews 11:4-40 recounts the salvations, by their faith in Christ to come, of major Hebrew figures, from Abel to Samuel.

Peter challenges Dante to explicate Paul's words, and especially the related concepts of faith as the “substance” of hope and the “evidence” for things not seeable.

Tozer (comm. to these verses) translates the protagonist's thoughts as follows: “Heavenly mysteries cannot be known on earth by sight, but are discerned by faith only; and as hope is founded on this, faith is the substance, or foundation, of things hoped for. It is also the proof of things unseen, because we are justified in arguing from faith in matters where sight is unavailing.”

Dante's intenza translates the Scholastic term intentio (notion, concept). And so the thought is (Grandgent [comm. to this verse]) “assumes the concept,” that is, “falls into the category.”

Giuseppe Mazzotta (“Dante and the Virtues of Exile,” Poetics Today 5 [1984]: 663) points to Hebrews 11.1 for the word “argomento” [evidence]. Since this is the third occurrence of that term in fourteen lines, with the first being its presence in the citation of Paul that the protagonist uses in verse 65 as part of his definition of Faith, that ascription seems beyond dispute.

Peter approves Dante's intellectual grasp of the doctrinal aspect of faith; now he wants to know if his pupil really has it, or is only talking a good game, like the sophist Dante seems to have convinced him he is not.

To Peter's question about the source of his faith, Dante responds, “The rain of the Holy Spirit poured over the two testaments is the syllogism of syllogisms.”

Peter's follow-up question, in which he asks why the protagonist considers Scripture inspired, elicits Dante's avowal that nature cannot have been responsible for the miracles recounted in both testaments.

Peter persists in his testing of Dante's faith, asking whether it might be true that the argument from miracles is not verifiable, that is, that such argument is based on the truth of the proposition that is being tested. (We may reflect that the obvious subtext here, for a Christian discussant, is the resurrection of Jesus.)

Tozer (comm. to these verses) paraphrases Dante's rejoinder as follows: “The reply to such an objection is that the conversion of the world to Christianity without miracles by men of no position like the Apostles would be incomparably the greatest of all miracles, and would be in itself a sufficient proof of the divine origin of Christianity.” See Augustine, the final words of the fifth chapter De civitate Dei XXII: “[O]ne grand miracle suffices for us, that the whole world has believed without any miracles” (tr. M. Dods).

For the word centesmo, see Matthew 19:29 (another passage in which the authority of Peter may seem challenged; see the note to vv. 124-126): “And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or lands, for my name's sake, will receive a hundredfold and will inherit eternal life.” It was Peter's troubling question (what shall he and the other disciples have for giving up the things of this world to follow Jesus) that elicited that remark.

Gratuitous in terms of the argument being made (but thoroughly in keeping with what we expect from Dante) is this biting thrust at the Church, corrupted under (and, in some cases, by) Peter's successors. For a survey of saved and damned popes, see the note to Inferno VII.46-48.

“Dio laudamo” is of course the Italian version of the Latin hymn Te Deum laudamus, which we heard intoned in Purgatorio IX.140, when the gate of Purgatory swung open (see the note to Purg. IX.139-145). And see Gino Casagrande (“'I s'appellava in terra il sommo bene' [Paradiso, XXVI, 134],” Aevum 50 [1976], pp. 260-64) for the relationship between all the Italian hymns of praise in the eighth heaven and the Hebrew word of praise “alleluia.” See also Kevin Brownlee (“Why the Angels Speak Italian: Dante as Vernacular Poeta in Paradiso XXV,” Poetics Today 5 [1984]: 597-610) for reflections on that subject.

There is a profusion of hymns in this heaven: Paradiso XXIII.128 (Regina celi); XXV.73 (“Sperino in te”); XXV.98 (Sperent in te); XXVI.69 (“Santo, santo, santo”); XXVII.1 (“Al Padre, al Figlio, a lo Spirito Santo, gloria”), including this one, six musical outbursts in all.

It is curious that the commentary tradition is silent on the fact that the Te Deum is represented as being sung in the vernacular, surely connected to the Italian identity of the poet/bachelor of theology who has just concluded the crucial part of his “examination” here. Further, the commentators, without dispute among themselves, either think that the outburst of the Church Triumphant celebrates Dante's profession of faith or the triumph of the Christian faithful. Scartazzini/Vandelli (comm. to these verses) were the first to suggest that possibly both are intended, as Momigliano (comm. to these verses) concurs.

Although verse 121 makes it plain that Peter has accepted Dante's profession of faith, it is also clear that he wants the new professor to expatiate on two points (they correspond to his first and fourth questions and Dante's responses [vv. 52-53 and 61-66; and then vv. 89-96]). Peter wants Dante to spell out precisely what he believes and exactly where he learned it.

Peter's baronial title will be given to James as well (see Par. XXV.17). It probably reflects its use as the term of address for a feudal lord, as Mestica observes (comm. to vv. 115-117). Daniello (comm. to vv. 115-117) ties the poet's use of this term to his previous (in Par. XXIV.59) use of the term primipilo. Lombardi (comm. to vv. 115-117) reports that it was not uncommon in the late medieval period to give saints the titles of those who were indeed powerful in this world. One example (of the two) he adduces is Giovanni Boccaccio's (repeated) reference to “baron messer santo Antonio” (Decameron VI.x.9, VI.x.11, VI.x.44).

See Tozer (comm. to this verse): “Donneare is from Provençal domnear, and that from Lat. domina; it expresses the chivalrous treatment of a lady by her cavalier. Here it is used of the grace of God gently operating on the mind of man.”

Dante's seventh response involves the experience of Peter and John at Christ's tomb (see John 20:3-8); Dante's credo in God the Creator; his proofs: philosophical, theological, and Scriptural (from Genesis to Peter's Epistles).

Here is a part of Carroll's comment to vv. 115-138: “That is, Peter sees now the risen body of Christ, concerning which he had only faith as he ran to the sepulchre; but even faith made him conquer the younger feet of John, who at the time had no faith in the Resurrection. The difficulty is that it was John who outran Peter and came first to the sepulchre. It is not in the least likely that Dante forgot this. His meaning undoubtedly is that while the younger feet, through lack of faith, lingered at the entrance, Peter's faith carried him past his doubting companion to the inside. (In De Mon. III.ix, however, the incident is given as an instance of Peter's impulsiveness rather than his faith: 'John says that he went in immediately when he came to the tomb, seeing the other disciple lingering at the entrance.' Perhaps Dante wished to retract his former judgment.) This does no injustice to John, since he himself says it was only after he entered and saw how the grave-clothes were folded up, that he believed (John 20:5-8). It is somewhat strange, however, that Dante should choose this incident as an example of Peter's faith.”

Is this more than a slight dig in the ribs for Peter? See the notes to vv. 22, 39, 52-57, 62-63, and 108. The reader would do well to turn immediately to Monarchia III.ix.1-19, a diatribe against Peter as a stand-in for the papacy. Discussing the context of the passage in Luke 22:38, which was among the biblical texts that the hierocrats employed to assert papal authority over the emperor, Dante has this to say about Peter's intellectual capacity: “Peter, as was his habit, answered unreflectingly, only considering the surface of things” (Mon. III.ix.2); later (III.ix.8) he adds that, had Peter actually said what the hierocrats claimed he did, Christ would have reproached him for that remark about the two swords “as He did reproach him many times, when he replied not knowing what he was saying.” Dante continues in a similar vein (III.ix.9): “And that Peter was in the habit of speaking without reflecting is proved by his hasty and unthinking impulsiveness, which came not just from the sincerity of his faith, but, I think, from his simple and ingenuous nature.” Finally, having listed a whole series of Peter's inadequacies, both as thinker and as loyal follower of Jesus, Dante moves toward his conclusion: “It is helpful to have listed these episodes involving our Archimandrite in praise of his ingenuousness, for they show quite clearly that when he spoke of the two swords he was answering Christ with no deeper meaning in mind” (all these translations are from P. Shaw's edition). According to Carroll, this passage may serve as a partial retraction of those views. The reader has, nonetheless, to wonder why Dante should, if more circumspectly than in the anti-Petrine diatribe in Monarchia, be chipping away at the veneer of authority lodged in the man whom he considered the first pope. Is it possible that his widely represented distrust of particular popes prompts him to protest any emerging sense that a pontiff, because of his tenure in the highest ecclesiastical office, is necessarily without doctrinal error? See Bennassuti's unintentionally amusing insistence (comm. to Inf. XI.8) that Dante could not have condemned Pope Anastasius II as a heretic because the poet believed in papal infallibility (Bennassuti, as a priest, should have known better, since this did not become a doctrine of the Church until his own nineteenth century); as a result the reader is to understand that demons put that inscription on the tomb for Dante to read. This is perhaps one of the most extravagant misreadings of the text of the poem and of Dante's intentions in a commentary tradition that is not deprived of amusingly wrongheaded insistence on what Dante supposedly would never do.

Bosco/Reggio (comm. to this tercet) interpret what has proven to be a surprisingly controversial line as having two focal points, the love on God's part for His creation, the love on its part for Him. We have followed them in our translation.

Italo Borzi (“Il Canto XXIV,” in “Paradiso”: Letture degli anni 1979-'81, ed. S. Zennaro [Rome: Bonacci, 1989], p. 660) wonders whether Dante's insistent affirmation of his orthodoxy in matters of faith might not reveal an anxiety on his part lest his detractors have influenced his readers to consider him a heretic.

For Dante's distinction between physics and metaphysics here (and the relation of this passage to discussions found in Convivio II), see Alfonso Maierù (“Dante di fronte alla Fisica e alla Metafisica,” in Le culture di Dante. Atti del quarto Seminario dantesco internazionale, ed. Michelangelo Picone et al. [Florence: Cesati, 2004], pp. 127-49), especially his concluding remarks.

This verse repeats, nearly verbatim, Luke 24:44, as was pointed out by Tommaseo (comm. to vv. 136-138). Jesus speaks: “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you, that everything written about me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled.”

See Tozer's paraphrase of these lines: “voi, &c.: St. Peter and the other apostles, who derived the inspiration of their writings from the descent of the Holy Ghost at Pentecost.”

Dante recites his credo in the Trinity. He goes on to say that his proofs for God's trinitarian nature are Scriptural, without specifying where these appear. Somehow it does not come as a surprise that Scartazzini (comm. to vv. 143-144) was the first to offer such a list: Matthew 28:19; John 14:16-17; II Corinthians 13:13; I Peter 1:2; and I John 5:7.

A source for this vehicle of the concluding simile, which seems to be based on a particular scene as described in some previous work, has escaped the commentators. However, see Mario Aversano (Dante daccapo [glosses to the Paradiso], copia d'eccezione, sent by the author on 11 September 2001), pp. 113-14, suggesting that two passages in St. Luke may be conflated in Dante's text, Luke 19:17, and (somewhat more convincingly) 15:20-32, the parable of the Prodigal Son. As Aversano admits, the connections may seem a bit tenuous; however, as he points out, Dante's gerund gratulando may pick up Luke's two uses of congratularsi in this chapter (15:6 and 15:9), according to him the only two uses of that verb in the Gospels. (He has overlooked one other, also in Luke [1:58].)

St. Peter now “laureates” Dante in Faith. While the phrase tre volte (three times) occurs on seven other occasions in the poem, its first and last appearances are the only ones that occur in the final four verses of a canto, here and in Inferno XXVI.139. It would seem possible that this use remembers in bono that first occurrence, in which the ship of Ulysses spins around three times before it sinks. Here Dante is not being punished for his presumption, but rewarded for his faith.