As before, Dante lacks the confidence to ask more questions, but Beatrice urges him to speak because he needs the practice, and she reminds him that they already know what is in his mind. Dante tells Cacciaguida that all along his journey he has heard dark prophecies about himself. And while these have taught him what he might expect in the future, he still wants to know more so that he will be better prepared. Cacciaguida, who can see Dante’s future in the mind of God, tells him plainly that he will be exiled from Florence and that he will lose all that is dear to him. It will be difficult for him to accept the hospitality of others’ homes and the foolish company he will be forced to keep. Yet, he reassures Dante, that he will be very well-treated by a noble family in Verona. In the end, Cacciaguida advises Dante not to be envious of his neighbors, because they will get what they deserve. Rather, he tells him to speak the truth. While it might be bitter for some to hear, it will be instructive for so many more. He also tells Dante that the reason he has met only notable souls on his journey is because his readers will pay more attention to his poem than if he wrote about people who are not well known.
(To read a footnote, click the number in the text. To come back from a footnote, click the up arrow at the note number.)
Standing there with that holy radiance of my ancestor who moved closer to me now, I felt myself to be like young Phaeton who went to his mother Clymene to make certain his father was a god – a story which still warns fathers about what they give their sons.[1]Like every other classical allusion Dante uses throughout his Comedy, the story of Phaeton from Ovid’s Metamorphoses (Bk I:747-II:328) has a significant purpose here. Phaeton, boasting that his … Continue reading Then Beatrice spoke to me: “This is the time to put into words the desire that flames up within your heart. Speak with confidence; not that we don’t already know what you wish to know, but that you might continue to learn to express what is deepest within you. In such a way your inner thirst will be quenched.”[2]Though both Beatrice and Cacciaguida already know what Dante is about to ask, she urges him to speak up. In other words, let the embers of your thoughts flame up into words from your heart. This is … Continue reading
And so I began: “O you who are my precious root, raised so high within this divine realm that you look within that Eternal Point where time ends, and you see contingent things there before they take shape in reality.[3]Addressing Cacciaguida with his own words in Canto 15 (“I was your root…”) Dante begins by adding to what we know about the heaven powers of the Blest: not only do they read minds and know all … Continue reading While I traveled with Virgil, climbing with him the mountain that heals, and down into the kingdom of the dead, dark things were told to me about my future and I feel well-fortified against the winds of Fortune. But I still desire to know what she has in store for me so I might understand what to expect when it finally comes. When one knows the arrow of Fortune is coming, one may have time to evade it.” This is what I said to my loving ancestor who had already spoken to me, and having done so I also fulfilled Beatrice’s wish.[4]Here, first, we have the concerns Dante feels. During his journey with Virgil through Hell and Purgatory, he heard indications of a dark future in store for him. (This is the first of only two times … Continue reading
And not in the obscure words of the ancient oracles, but in plain speech – and smiling – he responded lovingly: “The realm of contingent things includes all that is material. And while material things do not last, they are still fully seen in the Mind of God. But because God sees them that does not mean that He makes them happen, just as a boat’s movement isn’t determined by the eye that sees it moving. Nevertheless, as a lovely harmony comes to our ears, so in that Mind I envision things the future has in store for you.[5]This first part of Cacciaguida’s response is both affectionate and instructive. Going back to the contingency that was mentioned earlier, he reminds Dante that even though contingency is a material … Continue reading Just as the innocent Hippolytus was forced to flee Athens by his stepmother’s evil intentions, so you will be forced to leave Florence. It has been planned and will soon be carried out by those in Rome who buy and sell Christ every day! And as always happens, the innocent party will be blamed. But as vengeance belongs to God, you can trust that the truth will be made manifest in the end.[6]Once again, Dante turns to classical mythology (Ovid, Metamorphoses XV:487ff) to introduce his concern as Cacciaguida recounts the story of Hippolytus. Hippolytus was the son of Theseus. His evil … Continue reading
“You will have to leave behind those whom you love dearly, and this is the first sharp arrow your exile shall strike you with. After that you will taste how bitter the bread is at tables not your own, and you will know the grim task of trudging down and up the stairs of other people’s homes. But what will press the most on you during these times will be the evil and foolish company you will have to keep. Ungrateful, mad, and vicious, they will turn against you; but in the end, it will be their faces that blush with shame, not yours. Their own deeds will manifest what savages they are, and it will be to your credit that you stand apart from them – a party of your own[7]Cacciaguida gets quite specific here, noting several painful experiences during Dante’s exile. The first and most painful is his unexpected banishment. No doubt, the experience of such a separation … Continue reading
“Your first respite will come through the courteous hospitality of that noble Lombard lord whose shield bears the sacred eagle upon a golden ladder.[8]This is a reference to Bartolomeo della Scala (1277-1304), the Lord of Verona and Dante’s first patron in Verona. Dante probably arrived in Verona some time in 1303 and was very well-received by … Continue reading He will hold you in high esteem and grant you many favors before you even ask. He is one who, when he was born, was highly endowed with the qualities of this star, and he will be renowned for his great deeds. Being still quite young, his fame in the world has not yet come to the fore.[9]Can Grande was born in 1291. Dante arrived in Verona in 1303 when the boy was around 14 years old. But before Pope Clement abandons the Emperor Henry, this young man will show what he is made of by his hard work and disdain for wealth. His generosity will be so well known that even his enemies will have to admit his worthiness. So, cultivate his friendship with you and you will see good things. Because of him the destinies of many rich and poor will be reversed.[10]These laudatory passages all refer to Can Grande, who, as the text suggests, was influenced by the planet Mars at his birth – an obvious reference to his military competence and leadership. At the … Continue reading Write down all of what I have told you in your mind, but do not reveal it.” And he told me even more things concerning this noble lord that might seem incredible, but they will come true.[11]This is a fascinating place in Dante’s reporting of what Cacciaguida had been telling him, about his future and about Can Grande. While he tells Dante to keep the information in his memory, he also … Continue reading
“And now,” he continued, “you have heard my interpretation of the things you were told on your journey, and you have an idea of what to prepare yourself for. But let me also say this: do not be envious of your neighbors, because you have a destiny that will endure long after their crimes are forgotten.”[12]Cacciaguida clearly summarizes Dante’s earlier concerns about what he had heard about his future while in Purgatory and in Hell. And remembering that Cacciaguida can also see into Dante’s future, … Continue reading
When he had finished weaving the threads of my future into a clear image, but still longing for some reassurance from this honorable soul, I said: “My dear father, I understand the blows of Fortune that will come my way – hitting hardest those who are least prepared. This foresight arms me against the arrows of fate, and if it must be that I be exiled from Florence, at least my poem will make a place for me elsewhere.[13]Reading these lines, it seems that Dante, while still feeling the pain of his exile (e.g., the “arrows of fate”), has begun to accept it. At the same time, his knowing what is in store for him … Continue reading All along my journey – through the underworld, up the mountain from whose summit Beatrice raised me, and through these heavenly spheres – I have learned things that, if I were to repeat them, would taste bitter in many mouths. On the other hand, if I do not tell the truth I fear that my name will be forgotten among those who might think of these as the olden times.”[14]Earlier, Dante stated that he heard dark things about himself in Purgatory and Hell. Here, he reverses the order, following the chronology of the Poem, but adds Paradise through the agency of … Continue reading
Hearing this, that precious glowing soul began to shine even brighter, as though he were a golden mirror reflecting the sun. And he replied: “The man with a conscience shamed and dark with his own deeds or those of another might well feel the sting of your words. But do not hide the truth, tell everything you have seen and let those evil men bear the brunt. In the end, your words will serve to instruct many, though they might taste bitter at first.[15]Those with bad consciences, particularly in regard to what Dante has written and revealed, will feel a stinging kinship with those they’ll read about, Cacciaguida tells him. But, he continues, this … Continue reading What you write will be like the wind – blowing hardest against the highest peaks – and this will bring you honor. It was for this reason that all through your travels you’ve only encountered notable souls, because theirs are the kinds of stories most people will pay attention to.”[16]It is a commonplace that the loftiest structures, whether in nature or built by humans, experience the strongest winds. But there are other lofty (high) structures that are implied here like the … Continue reading
Notes & Commentary
| ↑1 | Like every other classical allusion Dante uses throughout his Comedy, the story of Phaeton from Ovid’s Metamorphoses (Bk I:747-II:328) has a significant purpose here. Phaeton, boasting that his father was the sun god, was called a liar by his half-brother. He went to his mother, Clymene, who told him that he was, in fact, the son of Phoebus, and urged him to speak with his father. Happy to see his son, Phoebus promised him anything he wished. Phaeton told him he wanted to drive the chariot of the sun for a day. Greatly distressed, and filled with regret and foreboding, Phoebus pleaded with his son to withdraw his request. But Phaeton persisted in spite of his father’s many warnings, including Phaeton’s own death. Phoebus gave in. Once the chariot of the sun began to move, the horses sensed that they had been set free because Phaeton was so light compared to his much heavier father. They ran amok across the heavens, scorching everything (creating the Milky Way) and causing havoc across the cosmos. In the end, Jupiter killed Phaeton with a thunderbolt and he fell to the earth. On his tomb were written these memorable words: “Here Phaethon lies who with the sun-god’s chariot fared. And though greatly he failed, more greatly he dared.” The Reader can expect that Dante, likening himself to Phaeton, is about to ask Cacciaguida a significant question. |
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| ↑2 | Though both Beatrice and Cacciaguida already know what Dante is about to ask, she urges him to speak up. In other words, let the embers of your thoughts flame up into words from your heart. This is part of his ongoing education in Heaven, an education that will pay off when he returns to earth and will need to relate all his experiences clearly. Furthermore, Robert Hollander adds another twist to Beatrice’s words: “The souls of the saved have the capacity to read minds; thus speech addressing them, while technically unnecessary, has the benefit to a mortal speaker of making his thoughts clear to himself so that his questioners, all of whom are necessarily saved souls, will have sufficient indication of what is “on his mind.” This only seems a curious notion; upon reflection it makes perfectly good sense (i.e., if he has a confused thought in his mind, that is what his celestial interrogator will read in it).” |
| ↑3 | Addressing Cacciaguida with his own words in Canto 15 (“I was your root…”) Dante begins by adding to what we know about the heaven powers of the Blest: not only do they read minds and know all times as the present in the mind of God, they also see the actual results of things we only see as contingencies. One might express the hope to become a teacher. In Heaven, the Saints see all possible outcomes of that hope. We can see here, then, the direction Dante is going to take as he builds up to his questions. |
| ↑4 | Here, first, we have the concerns Dante feels. During his journey with Virgil through Hell and Purgatory, he heard indications of a dark future in store for him. (This is the first of only two times that Virgil’s name will be used in the Paradiso.) Then, as a result of these, he wants to know what Fortune has in store for him so he can be prepared for it. Knowing this, he’s less liable to be surprised. |
| ↑5 | This first part of Cacciaguida’s response is both affectionate and instructive. Going back to the contingency that was mentioned earlier, he reminds Dante that even though contingency is a material thing, God sees it in the timeless now of eternity. But it will last only as long as time. At the same time recall, as was noted above, that because God sees the outcome of all contingent possibilities doesn’t mean that he makes them all happen. The example of seeing the boat is helpful here because it inserts the element of free will into the equation. Because God knows what we’re going to do doesn’t actually make it happen. By our choices we often turn contingency into reality. The statement, “I’m thinking about becoming a teacher, or an accountant, or a pilot,” is an expression of contingency. God knows the outcome of each one. But we decide which path to take, not God. And here lies a mystery. But, Cacciaguida tells Dante, he sees his future in the Mind of God like a lovely harmony. |
| ↑6 | Once again, Dante turns to classical mythology (Ovid, Metamorphoses XV:487ff) to introduce his concern as Cacciaguida recounts the story of Hippolytus. Hippolytus was the son of Theseus. His evil stepmother, Phaedra, attempted to seduce him but he rejected her advances. Out of spite, she told Theseus that his son had tried to rape her. Though Hippolytus proclaimed his innocence, Theseus believed Phaedra and drove his son away from Athens. In addition, he called on Poseidon to kill him. As Hippolytus was driving his chariot along the seashore, Poseidon sent a bull-like monster out of the sea which sent the horses into a panic. The chariot hurtled off a cliff, horses, chariot, and rider, and the innocent boy was dashed to pieces. Cacciaguida tells Dante that he, like Hippolytus, will be the innocent victim of lies and be driven out of Florence. As a matter of fact, he tells him, this is already being planned in Rome where corrupt Church officials buy and sell Christ every day. This, of course, is a reference to Judas betraying Jesus to his enemies for thirty pieces of silver – and a direct reference to Dante’s nemesis, Pope Boniface VIII. Piecing together various parts of the story, it seems that by April 1300, even before Dante became a Prior of Florence, Rome (Boniface VIII) had been plotting to turn the city over to the Black Guelf party. This, in fact, later led to Dante’s being exiled. Dante was a White Guelf, the party which opposed the Pope’s machinations and interference in Florentine politics. Boniface was intent on sending Charles of Valois to Florence as his representative. This was strongly opposed by the White Guelfs. So, in 1301, in an attempt to change papal policy and rein in the Blacks, the Whites sent an embassy to Rome, which included Dante. The group arrived in Rome in November, only to discover that Charles had already entered Florence. By January of 1302, a decree of exile against Dante and members of the White party had been signed, and Dante never returned to Florence. Commentators generally agree that, while Boniface VIII didn’t personally plan Dante’s exile, he did definitely set in motion the events that would lead to it. Boniface died in October of 1303. Seeing in the Mind of God the outcome of these painful events in Dante’s life, Cacciaguida assures him that God’s vengeance will come upon those responsible for these miscarriages of justice. Commentators over the years point to various evils and disasters that befell Florence during Dante’s lifetime that could be singled out as candidates for God’s retribution. |
| ↑7 | Cacciaguida gets quite specific here, noting several painful experiences during Dante’s exile. The first and most painful is his unexpected banishment. No doubt, the experience of such a separation from family, friends, and livelihood left life-long marks on Dante’s psyche. We do know that initially he tried to gather members of his White party in an attempt to return to Florence. About this Dorothy Sayers reports: “They made at least three attempts to march on Florence: (1) in the summer of 1302, (2) in the spring of 1303, and (3) in the summer of 1304. Dante is known to have participated in the first and may also have associated himself with the second. After that there is no record of his being connected with the political or military activities of his fellow exiles, and, from the words of Cacciaguida, it appears that be broke from them in anger, having suffered calumny of some kind. The early commentator known as Ottimo Commento relates that Dante had advised his party to put off until the spring an expedition they wished to make in the winter. They took his advice and more, for they waited till the summer (1304). And when the expedition failed they turned on Dante and accused him of being in league with the Blacks.” Hollander adds that it was a crushing defeat at the hands of the Black Guelfs at the fortress of Malmantile at Lastra a Signa, a mile or so from Florence on July 20, 1304: “an army of more than 10,000 men was routed, leaving 400 dead behind.” At the same time, we also know that he was well-received as a guest in several places, particularly Verona and, finally, in Ravenna. Yet, no matter how hospitably one may be treated, always eating bread at someone else’s table (bitter because it’s salted with one’s tears, or just bitter because of the condition of exile), moving about in someone else’s home, striving all the while to maintain some kind of livelihood, all these and more can be grueling after a while. A fine point that readers might miss (and commentators are helpful in pointing out) is the reversed word order in going (trudging) down and up the stairs of a host’s home. We usually speak of going up and down stairs. Here, however, Dante wants us to imagine the hope an exile might feel going down the stairs at the start of a day and returning back with nothing new to alleviate his sense of desperation. Was he reading in the Book of Sirach (29:24ff; 40:29)? “It is a miserable life to go from house to house, for where you are a guest you dare not open your mouth. You will entertain and provide drink without being thanked; besides, you will hear these bitter words: ‘Come here, you parasite, set the table, let me eat the food you have there! Go away, you parasite, for one more worthy; for my relative’s visit I need the room!’” …. “When one has to look to a stranger’s table, life is not worth living. The delicacies offered bring revulsion of spirit, and to the intelligent, inward torture.” Worst of all, Cacciaguida tells Dante, will be the kind of company he’ll be forced to keep. This remark might seem to be snobbish on Dante’s part, but by the time he was writing the Paradiso he was already experiencing these things. He may well be referring here to the fact that as a prolonged house guest with his background and experience, not to mention being from another part of the country, and an exile, he might have had little in common with others that he met, making conversation difficult. He was definitely a “party of one” and a-lone. |
| ↑8 | This is a reference to Bartolomeo della Scala (1277-1304), the Lord of Verona and Dante’s first patron in Verona. Dante probably arrived in Verona some time in 1303 and was very well-received by this noble family. Dante dedicated the Paradiso to his youngest brother, Can Grande Della Scala (1291-1329). Dante considered Can Grande (which means “big dog” in Italian, his real name was Francesco) to be a very capable and intelligent young man (later ruler). He hoped that it would be he who would restore order and peace to Italy. |
| ↑9 | Can Grande was born in 1291. Dante arrived in Verona in 1303 when the boy was around 14 years old. |
| ↑10 | These laudatory passages all refer to Can Grande, who, as the text suggests, was influenced by the planet Mars at his birth – an obvious reference to his military competence and leadership. At the time when Dante first met him, he was definitely a rising star. When he was 11 years old, he was knighted by his father, Alberto. In 1310, at the age of 19, he was made Imperial Vicar by the Emperor Henry VII, and by the following year he was the sole ruler of Verona. Pope Clement V succeed Boniface VIII in 1305. Dante places him in Hell (canto 19) among the Simonists, stuffed upside down in a hole. He was from Gascony, a province in southwestern France. Noted for his greed and lust, he was a puppet of King Philip IV (the Fair) to whom he owed his election as pope. In 1309, he moved the papacy from Rome to Avignon in southeastern France. At first he supported the Emperor Henry VII, but later changed his mind. Dante placed a great deal of hope in Henry’s reviving Imperial power in Italy, but he died in 1313 before achieving this goal. On the other hand, Can Grande was a powerful supporter of the Emperor and his imperial ambitions. Unlike many other leaders in his time, he lived modestly and was known for his generous spirit. Apparently, even his enemies had to admire him. Celebrating his qualities, many commentators quote lines from an ancient Christian hymn in the Gospel of Luke (1:51-53; spoken by Mary, the mother of Jesus): “He has shown the strength of his arm, he has scattered the proud in the conceit of their heart. He has put down the mighty from their thrones, and has exalted the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty.” |
| ↑11 | This is a fascinating place in Dante’s reporting of what Cacciaguida had been telling him, about his future and about Can Grande. While he tells Dante to keep the information in his memory, he also tells him not to reveal it. Dante appears to have ignored this request so far. But, perhaps to justify himself, he tells us that Cacciaguida told him more things about Can Grande – incredible things. And he does keep quiet about them. Except he assures us that they will come true. His certainty about this seems to imply that Cacciaguida, who can see the future in the Mind of God, has seen more (incredible) things about Can Grande and has told Dante about them. About these things Dante will remain silent. However, that doesn’t stop us from recalling one important fact: the Comedy is set in 1300 when Can Grande was only a boy of 9. All later events involving him will obviously look like prophecy, and both Cacciaguida and Dante have been playing the prophetic role here. Here is an interesting comment from Robert Hollander at the end of his commentary on this canto. According to Giorgio Petrocchi, noted 20th-century Dante scholar, “This canto, with its lavish praise of Cangrande, may be thought of as Dante’s farewell to Verona, written between 1317 and 1318.” From Verona, he moved to Ravenna in 1318 at the invitation of Guido Novello da Polenta, the Lord of the city. There he completed the Paradiso, and there he died in September of 1321. |
| ↑12 | Cacciaguida clearly summarizes Dante’s earlier concerns about what he had heard about his future while in Purgatory and in Hell. And remembering that Cacciaguida can also see into Dante’s future, this is, perhaps, the closest he comes to actually telling Dante what it will be. And so he reminds him to maintain a virtuous life, and particularly not to envy his neighbors who, as we have seen, have and will treat him badly. Why? Because Dante has a destiny that will last long after his detractors are dead. More importantly, you and I are still reading his Comedy more than 700 years later. In the end, the length and specificity of what Cacciaguida has told Dante far outweighs the smaller bits of dark prophecy he heard about himself in Purgatory and Hell. Not only do these indicate how important this is for Dante, but that it is also true. This part of the Paradiso, reading what Dante has written about himself in the words of his great-great-grandfather, makes for fascinating reading. |
| ↑13 | Reading these lines, it seems that Dante, while still feeling the pain of his exile (e.g., the “arrows of fate”), has begun to accept it. At the same time, his knowing what is in store for him will lessen the surprise of it when it comes. His Poem is an alter ego, and if he himself cannot go home, his Poem will find a home everywhere – including Florence. |
| ↑14 | Earlier, Dante stated that he heard dark things about himself in Purgatory and Hell. Here, he reverses the order, following the chronology of the Poem, but adds Paradise through the agency of Beatrice. In this case, he tells us that he has also heard dark things along his journey that he chooses not to repeat lest they create (more) animosity among those who hear them and make his or his Poem’s acceptability less likely. We can imagine any number of instances in the Inferno where family members or friends, or even different political and social groups might be offended by what they read there. In other words, he wants to insure himself and his Poem against a bad reception in the future. The challenge he’s facing is whether to remain silent and be safe or to tell the truth and risk misfortune (and even death). John Carroll, in his commentary here, lays out the seriousness of Dante’s dilemma: “At this point Dante gives expression to a fear which must have haunted his mind during his exile. In the course of his pilgrimage through the three worlds of the unseen, he had learnt things of great men and families, of cities, of nations, which, if published abroad, would have ‘a savour of strong bitterness to many.’ Would it not be a matter of common prudence to suppress the dreadful news lest he should create so many enemies that every refuge would be closed against him? It was certainly no imaginary danger. To many a great family the poet’s words must have seemed a wanton outrage upon their dead. His denunciation of the corruption of the Dominicans and Franciscans might well have shut in his face the door of every cloister belonging to them. And his plain condemnation of almost every Christian king was enough to have closed all Europe against him. In those days of the vendetta it is a marvel that a sudden knife in the heart did not send Dante to make actual acquaintance with that invisible world whose secrets he feigned to know. On the other hand, if he shrank from proclaiming the truth, his fame with future generations, which Cacciaguida had just foretold, would be lost.” |
| ↑15 | Those with bad consciences, particularly in regard to what Dante has written and revealed, will feel a stinging kinship with those they’ll read about, Cacciaguida tells him. But, he continues, this shouldn’t stop him from telling the truth. And what he is probably suggesting is that the shame those like-minded sinners experience is (will be) part of their punishment. On the positive side, many (even the guilty, perhaps) will find the Poem (all of it) greatly instructive and beneficial toward their salvation which, of course, has been Dante’s goal all along. |
| ↑16 | It is a commonplace that the loftiest structures, whether in nature or built by humans, experience the strongest winds. But there are other lofty (high) structures that are implied here like the Church, the Empire, political and social structures. Dante’s fortitude in attacking them with the truth will bring him honor. In a sense, he will be a voice for the voiceless. Cacciaguida ends the canto by reminding Dante that stories about famous or notable (and notorious) people get attention. That’s why he’s encountered so many of them along his journey. No one, of course, would be interested or convinced by obscure examples or stories of people no one has heard of. And while the Poem is only populated with notable characters, the audience is, and will be, from all parts of society. |