Canto XXVII
CANTO XXVII
Virgil dismisses the flame of Ulysses and then spies that of Guido da Montefeltro, a renowned military strategist for the Ghibellines. At first, his flame emits a confused sound, which gradually transforms itself into intelligible speech. Having heard Virgil’s Lombard dialect, and thinking the Travelers recent arrivals, he inquires of the present condition of his native Romagna (1–30). Since the great Ghibelline is Italian, Virgil urges Dante to address him, and the Florentine, ready with an answer, details the reigns of various petty tyrants in the region and then asks Guido about himself, offering to maintain his name in the world (31–57). The enflamed spirit, who fears infamy more than he desires fame, does not believe that anyone can return to earthly life from Hell and so responds to him, relating how, near the end of his life, he repented of the vulpine cunning exercised in his military career, laid down his arms, and became a Franciscan monk to do penance for his sins (58–84). But Pope Boniface VIII was mounting a crusade against the members of the Colonna family, who contested the validity of his election, even though they had not been renegades helping the Saracens take Acre, nor had they disobeyed the interdict on commerce with Moslem countries practiced by the Jews. Spurning his high office, his holy orders, and Guido’s Franciscan vows, Boniface solicited evil counsel from the friar on how to raze Palestrina, the Colonna fortress, to the ground, promising him absolution in advance. Since he feared disobedience to a pontiff more than proffering treacherous advice, Guido encouraged the Pope to promise, but not deliver, amnesty in exchange for surrender (85–111). Deeming himself absolved, the wicked counselor never repented of his sin, so that at his death one of the black Cherubim wrested his soul from the hands of St. Francis, since there is no absolution without contrition, and no contrition without resolve not to sin (112–129). When the grieving flame has finished and flickered on its way, the Poets climb the ridge to the ninth arch, above the sowers of discord (130–136).
1 Already was the flame erect and still;
And, having ceased to speak, it went away,
By warrant of the gentle Poet’s will.
4 And after that, another came our way,
Which turned our eyes up to its tip to see
Where there came forth from it a muddled bray.
7 And just as with the bull of Sicily[411]
(Which bellowed first with cries—and rightly so—
Of him whose instruments brought it to be)
10 The victim’s voice would roar so that, although
The thing was fully fashioned out of brass,
It still appeared transfixed by painful woe;
13 So were the mournful words, which could not pass
At first through roads or outlets anywhere,
Changed to the language of the fiery mass.
16 But after they had journeyed through the flare
Up towards the tip, thus giving it that sway
The tongue had given in their passage there,
19 “I aim my voice at you,” we heard it say,[412]
“Who said just now, as if from Lombardy:
‘I do not urge you more, so go your way’;
22 Perhaps I’ve come here somewhat tardily,
But don’t be irked to stop and talk a spell—
I burn, and see it doesn’t bother me!
25 If into this, our blinded world, you fell
But recently from sweet Italian shores,
From which I carry all my guilt to Hell,
28 Say if the Romagnoles have peace or wars.[413]
For I am from the mountains bordered by
Urbino and the ridge whence Tiber pours.”[414]
31 Still bending down and quite intent was I,
When, nudging at my side, thus spoke my Guide:
“Since he’s Italian, you should make reply.”
34 I had already my response inside,
So I began to speak without delay:
“O spirit there below, O you who hide,
37 Romagna never was, nor is today,
Within its tyrants’ hearts without a war;
But when I left, there was no open fray.[415]
40 Ravenna stands as many years before:
Polenta’s eagle broods there on its nest
And covers Cervïa with wings that soar.[416]
43 That land, long put already to the test,
Which left in bloody heaps the French it slew,
Now finds itself beneath green paws at rest.[417]
46 Verruchïo’s two mastiffs, old and new,
Those bad guards of Montagna, have there plied[418]
Their teeth like augers, as they’re wont to do.
49 Lamone and Santerno’s towns abide,
Led by the lion cub of the white lair,
And he, from spring to fall, will change his side.[419]
52 The one whose flank the Savio bathes lives there
And as it lies between the mount and plain,
Lives mid its freedom and the tyrant’s snare.[420]
55 But tell me who you are, I pray, and deign
To be no harder than I’ve been with you
That in the world your name may still remain.”
58 And when the flame, as was its manner to,
Had roared a while and shook both to and fro,
Its pointed tip gave forth this breath and blew:
61 “If I had thought my answer were to go
To one returning to the world anew,
This flame would shake no longer here below.
64 And yet since none, if what I hear is true,
Has ever come alive from this deep pit,
Not fearing infamy, I answer you.
67 A man of arms, then friar for a bit,
I thought, thus girt, to pay amendment’s fee;
Indeed, my thought would have accomplished it
70 Except for that High Priest—accurst be he!—[421]
By whom to former vices I was thrown.
Both how and why I’d have you hear from me:
73 When I was still the form of flesh and bone
My mother gave to me, my deeds from birth
Were not the lion’s but the fox’s own.
76 I knew all covert ways, and knew the worth
Of every wile, and practiced so their art
It sounded to the ends of all the earth.
79 And when I saw that I had reached that part
Of life when it is fitting for all men
To strike the sails and coil the ropes they cart,
82 What once had pleased me I regretted then;
Repenting and confessing, I withdrew,
Which should have helped, but woe to me again!
85 The prince of the new Pharisees, one who[422]
Had near the Lateran a war in hand,
Fought neither with the Saracen nor Jew.
88 His only foes were just a Christian band,
Though none had conquered Acre nor had been
A merchant trading in the Sultan’s land.[423]
91 He cared not for the highest office in
Himself, nor holy orders, nor my cord,[424]
Which used to make its wearers much more thin.
94 As at Soracte Constantine implored
Sylvester once to cure his leprosy,[425]
So I was sought as doctor to my lord
97 To cure his febrile pride. He summoned me
To counsel him, but I fell silent just
Because those words of his seemed drunk; then he
100 Instructed me: ‘Your heart must not mistrust,
But teach me how—for I absolve you here—
To cast down Palestrina to the dust.[426]
103 I lock and unlock all of Heaven’s sphere,
As you well know, for double are the keys[427]
My predecessor did not hold so dear.’
106 Then, pushed by weighty arguments like these
To where my silence seemed the worst thing known,
I answered him: ‘O Father, since you please
109 To wash the sin to which I must be thrown,
Short payments, though your promises be long,
Will make you triumph on your lofty throne.’
112 And when I died, St. Francis came along,[428]
But one of those black Cherubim first said:[429]
‘Oh, do not take him, do me not this wrong.
115 Among my minions he must go instead
For fraudulent was the advice he lent;
Since then have I been at his hairy head.
118 Now, they can’t be absolved who don’t repent,
And no one can at once repent and will;
The law of contradiction won’t consent.’
121 Oh, wretched me! I shook with such a chill
When he took hold of me. ‘Perhaps,’ he snapped,
‘You did not think of my logician’s skill!’
124 He bore me on to Minos; that one wrapped
His tail eight times around his hardened back;
Then, biting it while much enraged, he yapped:
127 ‘This sinner’s for the thieving fire.’ Alack!
For I am lost here where you see me mourn,
And so enrobed I go in bitter rack.”
130 When he had ended thus his words, forlorn,
The grieving flame departed from our side,
But tossed and twisted still its pointed horn.
133 I passed along a ridgeway with my Guide
And went up to another arch’s road,
Which spans the ditch where debts are satisfied
136 By those who, sowing discord, reap their load.