Canto X
CANTO X
Dante follows Virgil between the iron wall and flaming tombs. As they proceed, he asks if one may see those lying in the open sepulchers (1–9). His Master answers that since the Epicureans are entombed there, his wish will soon be satisfied (10–21). At that very moment a voice beckons to the Pilgrim, recognizing him as a Tuscan and a Florentine. Startled, Dante turns to find Farinata, the great Ghibelline leader, standing tall and proud. Farinata, perhaps disappointed in not seeing one of his contemporaries, inquires of the Poet’s ancestors and, on learning their identity, boasts that he put them to rout twice. Provoked, Dante retorts that they also returned twice, finally expelling Farinata’s band, who never learned the “art” of the comeback, at which Farinata, disconcerted by the news, falls silent (21–51). On hearing Dante bandy words with the Ghibelline chief, the Guelph Cavalcante kneels up, expecting to see his son Guido, a poet, an intimate of Dante, and the son-in-law of Farinata. Disappointed, he tearfully questions why, if the Wayfarer is led by his genius, his son does not accompany him. Dante, unaware that Cavalcante remains ignorant of present events, delays a moment in explaining that he has come by the aid of a power that Guido had perhaps disdained. Mistakenly inferring that his son has died, and fearing he suffers a fate like his own, Cavalcante swoons back into his tomb (52–72). Farinata, who has stood oblivious to this interlude, now fires back at Dante, predicting his exile in four years. Then, softening his tone, he wonders why the Florentines prove so hostile to his family though he alone defended the city against the Ghibellines who would have razed her to the ground (73–93). Placated by this question, and intrigued by Farinata’s prophecy, the Pilgrim inquires about the knowledge of the damned and learns that, like the farsighted, they cannot see the present, but can foresee the future (94–108). This condition accounts for Cavalcante’s false impression, and Dante requests that his error be rectified (109–114). Before leaving, the Poet learns that the Emperor Frederick II and Cardinal Ubaldino lie among the Epicurean heretics (115–121). Then, as they set out, Virgil admonishes the pensive Dante to store up what he has heard but predicts that Beatrice will yet reveal the course of his life to him (121–136).
1 And now we go along a secret track
Between the city’s walls and miseries,
My Master first, and I behind his back.
4 “O highest Virtue, leading me through these
Ungodly circles as you will,” said I,
“Come, speak to me and fill my longings, please.
7 Can someone see the people here who lie
In sepulchers? The lids are opened wide
Already, and no guard is standing by.”
10 “They all will be locked shut,” so he replied,
“When from Jehosaphat these spirits tread[150]
Back here with bodies laid above aside.
13 In this part is the cemetery bed
Of Epicurus and his following,[151]
Who with the body make the spirit dead.
16 Thus, while we’re here, the question that you bring
To me shall very soon be satisfied,
With that desire which you are silencing.”
19 “I do not hide my heart from you, good Guide,
Except that I may make my words but few,
To which you’ve just disposed me now,” I cried.
22 “O Tuscan, you still living, who go through
The town of fire with seemly discourse, rest
Within this place, if so it pleases you.
25 Your way of speaking makes it manifest
You’re native to a noble polity,[152]
To which I was perhaps too much a pest.”
28 This sound had issued forth quite suddenly
From one among those chests so that I drew
In fear yet closer to my Guide, and he
31 Commanded me: “Turn round! What’s this you do?
See Farinata there, who stands upright[153]
And from the waist on up will meet your view.”
34 By now I had already fixed my sight
On his, and he rose up with head and chest,
As if he held all Hell in boundless spite.
37 With prompt and ready hands my Leader pressed
Me through between the graves, up to his place,
And said: “Let fitting language be addressed.”
40 When at the tomb I stood, just at its base,
He looked a while and then with scornful wit
He asked of me: “What was your fathers’ race?”
43 And I, who was desirous to submit,
Hid not a thing, but told him all, and he
On that account raised up his brows a bit.
46 “They all were savagely averse to me,”
He said, “—my sires and partisans apart!—
So that two times I had to make them flee.”
49 “Though chased, they soon returned from every part,
Both one time and the other,” I replied.[154]
“But yours have never learned so well that art.”
52 At that, another shade rose by his side,[155]
Exposed to view down to his chin’s extent—
I think he’d risen on his knees inside.
55 He looked around as though his longing bent
On seeing if another had come too;
And when his expectation was all spent,
58 In tears he said to me: “If you go through
This blinded prison by your mental height,
Where is my son? Why is he not with you?”
61 “I don’t come of myself,” I said outright,
“But he who’s waiting there leads me to gain,
Perhaps, that One your Guido held in spite.”[156]
64 These were the words, and this the mode of pain,
In which at once I read his name; that’s why
My answer to him was so fully plain.
67 “What’s that?” he suddenly leapt up to cry;
“You said ‘he had’? Does he then live no more?
Does not the sweet light strike against his eye?”
70 When he perceived that I delayed before
I answered him, he took a backward fall,
And so he came no further to the fore.
73 But yet, that great-souled other, at whose call[157]
I first had stopped, had still not moved his head,
Nor bent his side, nor changed his look at all.
76 He spoke, continuing what first was said:
“If they have poorly learned that art’s true ways,
That fact torments me more than does this bed.
79 Not fifty times shall there be set ablaze
The visage of the dame who rules this zone,[158]
Before you learn how much that art form weighs.[159]
82 May you return to that sweet world you’ve known,
But tell me why, in all of their decrees,
That people is so fierce against my own.”[160]
85 I said: “The havoc and great butcheries
By which the Arbïa is colored red,[161]
Have filled our temples with such litanies.”
88 And at that point he sighed and shook his head:
“I was not then alone, nor would I stir
With others save with cause, I’m sure,” he said.
91 “Yet when I was alone, all others were
Agreed that Florence should be swept away;
And I with open face defended her.”[162]
94 “So that your seed may find repose some day,”
I begged of him, “dissolve for me the knot
That has entangled here my judgment’s play.
97 It seems what time will bring with it you spot
Before it happens, if I hear aright,
But for the present have another lot.”
100 To that he said: “Like one who has bad light,
We see the things that in the distance wait;
The Highest Guide still shines on us that bright.
103 When they draw near or are of present date,
Our minds are vain; if others brought no more,
We should know nothing of your human state.
106 You thus can understand just how our store
Of knowledge will from that point on be dead
When finally the future shuts its door.”[163]
109 And then, compunctious for my fault, I said:
“Will you not say now to that one who fell,[164]
His offspring and the living are still wed?[165]
112 If I was mute to his response, please tell
Him why, for I was turning in my mind
The error you’ve resolved for me so well.”
115 My Master called me now to come behind,
So that with even greater haste I pressed
That soul to name the spirits there confined.
118 “More than a thousand lie with me impressed,”
He said; “the Second Frederick’s in this yard,[166]
The Cardinal too; I speak not of the rest.”[167]
121 With that he hid. Back to the ancient Bard
I turned my steps and pondered what they meant,
Those words of his, which seemed to me so hard.[168]
124 He moved ahead, and later, as we went,
He asked of me: “Why are you so bestirred?”
At which I satisfied his question’s bent.
127 “So let your memory keep what you’ve heard,”
That Sage prescribed, “against yourself today.
But now,” he raised his finger, “heed my word:
130 When you have stood before so sweet a ray,
Which shines from one whose comely eye sees all,
Then you will learn from her your life and way.”[169]
133 His steps turned leftwards as we quit the wall
And made a movement towards the middle thus
By paths which, leading to a valley, fall.
136 Its stench, which rose that far, disgusted us.