Canto V
CANTO V
As Dante climbs up from the indolent, one of them notices his shadow and cries out, as the others stare in amazement. The Pilgrim slows to turn around, but his Guide immediately rebukes him for wasting time with the idle talk of others. Blushing with shame, the Poet can only answer that he is coming (1–21). A group of souls then advances on the ledge, singing the Miserere. When they also notice that Dante’s body blocks the sun’s rays, they speed two messengers to inquire of his condition. Virgil sends them back to report that his body is clothed with true flesh and thus that honoring him may profit them (22–36). Lightning quick, the two race back with the news, at which the crowd hurries and presses around the Pilgrim to see if he recognizes any of them. They are all spirits who died by violence, repenting at the last moment, though without Extreme Unction. Not recognizing any, the Poet is nevertheless eager to render them any service he can (37–63). Jacopo del Cassero steps forward and asks to be remembered in Fano, the city he defended against the designs of Azzo VIII d’Este, whose henchmen murdered him in a marsh near Padua (64–84). As soon as he has finished, Buonconte da Montefeltro quickly comes forth, begging Dante to show him pity. Seriously wounded in the battle of Campaldino, he fled some two and a half miles to the Arno, where he fell with Mary’s name upon his lips, a tear of true remorse in his eye, and his arms folded in a cross upon his chest. As St. Francis disputed with a devil for the soul of his father, Guido da Montefeltro, who was damned because of his sham repentance, so an angel contended with a devil for Buonconte’s soul, and he was saved because of his genuine contrition. In his fury the Prince of the Air stirred up a storm and swept his corpse down the Arno to be covered with debris (85–129). Finally, with delicate consideration and courtesy, La Pia, who was murdered by her husband, asks the Pilgrim to remember her as well (130–136).
1 Already I had left that spirit pack
To trace the footsteps of my Guide until,
With finger pointing, one behind my back
4 Cried: “See the second climber on the hill!
It seems no ray upon his left shines bright;[75]
He bears himself like one who’s living still.”
7 At these resounding words, I turned my sight
And saw those spirits in amazement stare
At me alone and at the broken light.
10 “Why is your mind entrapped in such a snare,”
My Master said, “that you should walk so slow?
If they are whispering, what do you care?
13 Come on behind; let babbling people go;
Be like a tower that, when firmly set,
Won’t shake its top for any winds that blow.
16 For always will the man whose thoughts beget
More thoughts set back his goal—the force of some
Will make his other musings weaker yet.”
19 What could I answer him if not “I come”?
I said it, colored somewhat with the stain
That may fit one for pardon. Meanwhile, from
22 Nearby, some people crossed the slope’s terrain
Ahead of us a little on that course;
They sang the Miserere strain by strain.[76]
25 When they perceived my body gave perforce
No passage for the rays the sun had shed,
Their chant became an “Oooh!” long-drawn and hoarse.
28 As messengers, two souls among the dead
Were sent to question us—so off they ran!
“Please say what your condition is,” they pled.
31 “You may return,” my Master thus began,
“To carry this to those who sent you here:
True flesh lies on the body of this man.
34 If they have halted, as I think is clear,
To see his shadow, that’s enough reply;
Let him be honored—they may hold it dear.”
37 I never saw lit vapors cleave the sky
At evening time nor at the setting sun
The August clouds as rapidly as I[77]
40 Beheld those souls return above, each one;
They reached the rest, wheeled back with them, and flew
Towards us as troops without a rein might run.
43 “How many people press on us! It’s you
They’ve come to seek,” the Poet said, “don’t quit,
But go right on, and listen as you do.”
46 “O soul who journey to be happy, fit
With all the limbs that you at birth possessed,”
They cried, approaching, “stay your steps a bit.
49 See if you know some man among us, lest,
Once back, you have no news of him to bear;
Oh, why do you go on? Oh, why not rest?
52 We all were killed by violence down there,
All till the final hour in sin’s embrace;
Then light from Heaven made us each aware.
55 So, by repentance and forgiving grace
We left our lives, as peace with God began,
Who makes sad hearts desire to see His face.”
58 I said: “I don’t know any, though I scan
Your faces, but, you spirits born to bliss,
If something I can do might please your clan,
61 Just speak, I’ll do it—by the peace I miss
And which from world to world I’m seeking still,
Behind the steps of such a Guide as this.”
64 And one began: “We trust you would fulfill[78]
Good offices (an oath you need not swear!)
Unless a lack of power curbed your will.
67 And hence, alone, before the others dare,
I pray if you should see the land between
Romagna and the realm where Charles is heir,[79]
70 That you may let your courtesy be seen
And ask for me that Fano offer prayer[80]
So that my grievous sins may be purged clean.
73 From there I sprung; but these deep wounds I bear,
By which my blood, the seat of life, was spilled,
Were dealt among Antenor’s sons; and where[81]
76 I felt the most secure he had me killed
—That one from Este—who was wroth with me[82]
Quite far beyond what justice would have willed.[83]
79 If towards La Mira I had cared to flee
When I was caught at Orïaco, then[84]
I’d still be over there where men breathe free.
82 Instead, I hurried to the marsh, but when
The reeds and mire entwined me, I fell prone
And saw my veins make pools upon the fen.”
85 Another said: “May this desire you’ve shown,
Which draws you to the heights, be filled; but vow
With gracious pity to assist my own.
88 From Montefeltro, I’m Buonconte; now[85]
—Because Giovanna and the rest care not
For me—mid these I go with lowered brow.”
91 “And were you torn by force or by chance lot
So far from Campaldino that one finds
No trace,” I asked, “of your sepulchral spot?”
94 “’Cross Casentino’s base a river winds,[86]
Named Archïano, born in that domain
Above the hermits in the Appenines.
97 I had arrived to where its name grows vain,”
So he replied, “although my throat was cleft,
My flight on foot, my blood upon the plain.
100 And there I lost my sight; almost bereft
Of speech, I finished saying Mary’s name,
And there I fell—my flesh alone was left.
103 I speak the truth; tell those alive the same:
God’s angel took me, though Hell’s devil pled,
‘You Heaven-sent, why rob me of my claim?
106 Take his eternal part because he shed
One tear, which steals him now from me, I swear
I’ll treat the other otherwise that’s dead!’
109 You know how humid vapor gathers where
It turns to rain as soon as it ascends
To be condensed by coldness in the air.
112 The devil joined ill will (which but intends
Our harm) with intellect; then smoke and gale
Were moved by powers that his nature lends.
115 When day was spent, he clouded up the vale
From Pratomagno to a mountain chain[87]
So grand, and thus he charged the Heaven’s veil
118 So that the pregnant air was turned to rain;
The waters fell, and into brooks there drained
Whatever streams the earth could not retain.
121 And when they gathered, torrents were unchained,
Which towards the Royal River swiftly pressed[88]
So that their course in no way was restrained.
124 At Archïano’s mouth its rage possessed
My frozen body, swept to Arno’s sea,
Thus loosening the cross upon my chest
127 Which arms had made when pain first conquered me;
It rolled me on its banks and river bed,
Then wrapped and covered me with its debris.”
130 “When rested from the lengthy way ahead,
Upon returning to the world once more,”
Behind the second soul a third one said,
133 “Remember me, la Pia, I implore;[89]
Sienna gave, Maremma took, my life,
As he knows well whose jeweled ring I wore,
136 By which he took me for his wedded wife.”