Canto XX
CANTO XX
Reluctantly, Dante leaves Adrian to his penance and moves on with his Guide, stepping carefully among the moaning souls who fill the terrace (1–18). He hears one spirit crying out the examples of poverty and generosity: Mary, who gave birth to her son in a stable; Fabricius, who preferred honorable poverty to ignoble wealth; and Nicholas, whose largesse delivered three nubile young ladies from a life of shame (19–33). Out of reverence for the grace already shining in the Pilgrim, the shade identifies himself as Hugh Capet, the founder of the Capetian line of French kings (34–60). He denounces such descendants of his as Charles d’Anjou, who married a woman betrothed to another to gain Provence and executed the rightful heir to the crown of Naples and Sicily; Philip II, who seized Normandy from England; Charles de Valois, who exiled the White Guelfs from Florence; Charles II of Naples, who married off his daughter for a large sum of money; and Philip the Fair, who snatched Ponthieu and Gascony, laid violent hands upon the Vicar of Christ on earth, and suppressed the order of the Knights Templar to confiscate their wealth (61–96). The penitents recite the examples of virtue by day and cry out those of avarice by night: Pygmalion, who murdered Sichaeus for his fortune; Midas, who wished that all he touched would turn to gold; Achan, who stole the spoils of war placed under the ban; Ananias and Sapphira, who withheld revenues from the Apostles; Heliodorus, who attempted to remove the treasures from the Jerusalem Temple; Polymnestor, who killed Polydorus for his riches; and Crassus, who had molten gold poured down the throat of his decapitated head (97–123). As the Pilgrims take leave of Hugh, an earthquake convulses the mountain, and they hear “Glory to God in the highest!” The moment the tremors cease, Dante and Virgil continue, with the Poet ardently desiring to know what has happened, but not daring to ask because of their haste (124–151).
1 In vain one fights against a better will;
To satisfy him, I, unsatisfied,
Withdrew a sponge the water did not fill.
4 I moved ahead as also did my Guide
Along the rocks through places that were clear
As on a wall one hugs the bulwark’s side,
7 For those whose eyes were shedding tear by tear
The evils that possess the world’s whole sweep
Approached the edge on its far side too near.
10 (Be curst you ancient wolf, who have more sheep
Than all the other beasts possess of prey
Because your endless hunger is so deep!
13 O heavens, through whose turning, as some say,
Conditions are transmuted here below,
When will he come from whom she’ll flee away?)
16 We went ahead, our steps both short and slow;
I was intent on shadows I heard wail,
All moaning wretchedly and weeping so.
19 By chance I heard one spirit on the trail
Cry out, “Sweet Mary!” in lament ahead
As does a woman who is in travail.
22 Continuing, “How poor you were,” he said,
“Is witnessed by that inn where it occurred
That you had laid your holy load to bed.[311]
25 O good Fabricius, you once preferred
The life of virtue, though with poverty,
To greater wealth with vice,” was what I heard[312]
28 To follow—words so pleasing unto me
That, going forth to meet that soul, I sped
To him from whom they seemed to come. And he
31 Went on to tell me of the bounty shed
By Nicholas on girls in maidenhood
To lead their youth to honor. Then I said:[313]
34 “O spirit, you who speak of such a good,
Say who you were and why but you commend
Their worthy deeds anew. Your speaking would
37 Not be without its own reward, my friend,
If I return to finish that short road
Of mortal life that’s flying to its end.”
40 “I don’t expect relief in such a mode,
But I shall tell you since,” so answered he,
“Before you’ve died, such grace in you has glowed.
43 I was the root of that malignant tree[314]
Which shades all Christian lands beneath its pall,
So that good fruits are plucked infrequently.
46 But if Douay, Lille, Ghent, and Bruges were all[315]
More able, vengeance would inflict swift pain;
And this I ask the Judge of every fall.
49 My name was Hugh Capet; within my strain
The Lewises and Philips rose, each one;[316]
And France has been of late beneath their reign.
52 At first I was a Paris butcher’s son;[317]
But when, save for a grey-clad anchorite,[318]
The line of all the ancient kings was done,
55 I found the reins that ruled the kingdom tight
Within my hands, and from my new-found gains,
With all my wealth of friends, I had such might
58 That soon to all the widowed crown contains
My own son’s head was raised; to him belong[319]
The first of all our consecrate remains.
61 Until the dowry of Provence, then strong,[320]
Took from my blood the sense of shame, though we
Were not worth very much, we did no wrong.
64 But there my line began its robbery
With force and fraud; and after, for amends,
Seized Normandy, Ponthieu, and Gascony.[321]
67 Charles came to Italy and, for amends,[322]
He made a victim first of Conradin,
Then heavenwards sent Thomas, for amends.
70 I see a time not long from now begin,
And it shall bring another Charles from France[323]
To make him better known with all his kin.
73 He comes but bears no arms except the lance
That Judas jousted with and, taking aim,
Thus bursts the paunch of Florentine expanse.
76 From this he gains not land but sin and shame,[324]
Which yet more heavily on him shall weigh
As he accounts more lightly such a blame.
79 The third came captive from a ship at bay;[325]
I see him deal and sell his daughter too
As corsairs sell their female slaves for pay.
82 O avarice, what more can you still do?
For its own flesh my race no more has care
Since you have drawn it now so close to you.
85 That past and future ills seem less to bear,
I see the lily pierce Alagna then[326]
And Christ made captive in his Vicar there.
88 I see Him mocked a second time again;
I see new vinegar and gall indeed,
Him slain between two thieves, two living men.
91 I see the new-made Pilate’s cruel deed,
Which does not sate him, so, without decree,
He bears within the Temple sails of greed.[327]
94 Oh when, my Lord, shall I rejoice to see
The vengeance, which, although it yet may hide,
Makes sweet Your anger in Your secrecy?
97 What I was saying of that only bride[328]
The Holy Spirit chose made you repair
Towards me so that some gloss might be supplied;
100 It’s that response we make to every prayer
Throughout the day; but come the nightly cold,
We all take up instead a counter-air.
103 We first recall Pygmalion of old,[329]
Made traitor, thief, and killer on behalf
Of his omnivorous desire for gold;
106 And miseries that Midas’ greed would quaff,[330]
Which came on ravenous demands, allow
Us always as a consequence to laugh.
109 Then each recalls the foolish Achan—how[331]
He stole the spoils—and so it seems there stews
The wrath of Joshua to sting him now.
112 Sapphira with her mate we next accuse[332]
And praise the hooves that Helidorus knew;[333]
Then Polymnestor’s infamy imbues[334]
115 The mount, for slaying Polydorus, too.
At last we cry: ‘Because you know, of course,
O Crassus, tell us how gold tastes to you.’[335]
118 One loud, one low, we sometimes will discourse,
According as our feelings spur our choice,
And now with greater, now with lesser force.
121 Thus, I am not alone as we rejoice
By day in such a good; but here nearby
No other soul was lifting up its voice.”
124 We now were parted from that soul to try
—As fast as strength permitted us—to make
Some further progress on that road when I
127 Quite suddenly could feel the mountain shake
As though it fell; I chilled with such a fright
As seizes one when marching to the stake.
130 I’m sure that Delos shook with no such might
Before Latona nested by its tide[336]
To bear the heaven’s orbs, her double light.
133 Then such a shout rose up on every side
That soon my Master drew towards me and bade:
“Have no misdoubts as long as I’m your guide.”
136 “Gloria in excelsis Deo,” prayed[337]
Both one and all, from what I understood,
Once near enough to hear the cries they made.
139 Both motionless and in suspense we stood,
Like shepherds who’d first heard that song of yore,[338]
Till at its end the tremors stopped for good.
142 We then took up our holy path once more
And watched the shades lie on the ground to pray
With their accustomed weeping as before.
145 Such ignorance had never warred this way
In making me desirous to know aught
(If here my memory leads not astray)
148 As at that time mine seemed to do in thought;
But still I dared not question for our haste
Though of myself alone I could see naught.
151 So, timidly and pensively I paced.