The procession now leaves the bank of the stream and turns back toward the east from where it came. Dante and Statius follow alongside the chariot. Soon, they arrive at a great barren tree, where Beatrice steps off the chariot and the griffin ties its pole to the tree. At once, the tree comes into bloom. Listening to the heavenly music, Dante falls asleep and is later awakened by the lovely lady he had earlier met in the forest. To his surprise only Beatrice and the seven noble ladies remain. The rest of the procession, he is told, has returned to Heaven. Beatrice now tells Dante to pay careful attention to what he is about to see so that he can record it for the benefit of those on earth. Seven mystical tableaux then begin.
(To read a footnote, click the number in the text. To come back from a footnote, click the up arrow at the note number.)
[1]At 160 lines, this is the longest canto in the Commedia.My eyes were so intent on looking only at Beatrice, as though quenching ten years of thirst, that my other senses seemed to vanish. Ensnared by the nets of her spell, all I could do was gaze upon her holy smile. But when I heard those goddesses at my left say, “Too fixed is his gaze!” I looked away. By then, my eyes were so strained that I was blinded for a time, as though I had been looking straight into the sun.[2]Beatrice died in 1290. Given that the Commedia is set in the year 1300, it would be 10 years ago since Dante had seen her. After the harrowing experiences of Hell, the arduous climb up the Mountain … Continue reading
After they became accustomed to a dimmer light, compared to that brilliance I had been feasting on, I noticed that the glorious procession had turned around to the right and was now moving back toward the sun in the east. When soldiers retreat under their shields, it’s those in the front line who turn first, and so it was here: those holy elders at the front of the procession turned past us before the chariot made its turn. The four and three ladies again took their places beside the wheels, and the griffin pulled his blessed passenger without ruffling a single feather. Statius and I, in company with the lovely lady who had brought me across the stream, now walked behind the right wheel.[3]When his mortal sight recovers from the blinding vision of Beatrice, Dante sees that the mystical procession is turning around toward the east. Let’s get our bearings before we continue. Earlier, … Continue reading
As we walked through that empty forest, empty because Eve had listened to the serpent, our pace kept time with the heavenly music. We had not gone three times the distance of an arrow shot full strength, when Beatrice stepped off the chariot. As she did so, I heard everyone murmur, “Adam.” Then they circled around a great tree, barren of leaves and fruit. In India, the height of this tree would be considered miraculous: the higher it rose, the more widespread were its branches.[4]The procession continues to move slowly through the Earthly Paradise keeping time with heavenly music. Perhaps the angels are still singing. Sadly, though, the forest is empty because of the sin of … Continue reading
Everyone gathered around the tree and began to sing: “Blessed are you, Griffin, because your holy beak does not tear the tasty bark of this tree, which later pains the belly.” And the griffin responded: “In this way the seed of righteousness is preserved.”[5]Insofar as the griffin represents Christ, and Christ is a second Adam (1 Corinthians 15:45), he is praised by the gathered participants of the holy procession for not eating from this tree. The pains … Continue reading
Then, he took the shaft which pulled the chariot behind him and laid it up against that barren tree. Immediately its leaves and fruit returned. Just as trees begin to bloom in early spring, when, pouring down through Aries, the strong rays of the sun shine on them, restoring their colors, so was this tree now renewed as it filled with purple blooms.[6]The chariot symbolizes the Church, and the shaft or pole used by the griffin to pull the chariot symbolizes the Cross. When he leans the pole against the Tree of Knowledge it immediately revives with … Continue reading
That group also began to sing a hymn, but I did not recognize it because it is not sung on earth–and I couldn’t listen to all of it. If I could describe how the watchful eyes of Argus were lulled to sleep with the tale of Syrinx–and the fatal price he paid for his slumber–I would try to paint myself falling asleep, as though from a model. But who can paint himself nodding off? So, I will tell you how I awoke instead.[7]Those gathered around the renewed Tree of Knowledge begin to sing a hymn. That it’s not recognizable because it’s not sung on earth begs the question, of course. What might it have been? And … Continue reading
A brilliant light penetrated my sleep, and I heard a voice saying to me: “Get up! What are you doing?” When they were led up the mountain to see the apple tree that makes the angels crave its fruit and celebrates eternal marriage-feasts in Heaven, Peter, James, and John fell into a slumber. When they were awakened at the word of Jesus–a word that would break a deeper sleep, they saw that Moses and Elijah had departed, and Jesus’ garments were no longer dazzling. It was the same for me. Awakened, I looked up to see that lovely lady who had walked with me along the stream in the forest.[8]A moment ago, Dante had fallen into a deep sleep listening to heavenly music. Jolted awake by a bright light, he finds himself being chided by Matelda. What follows will be another transition point … Continue reading
Frightened for a moment, I cried out: “Where is Beatrice?” But the lady calmed me and pointed, saying: “Look under the tree. She is sitting there in the shade of its new leaves. And see those who are still with her. All the others have gone up to Heaven with the griffin, where there is more glorious music.”[9]Dante is so powerfully connected to Beatrice, especially after his confession, that her name is immediately upon his lips as he awakens, frightened that he might have lost her, or, perhaps, that his … Continue reading
I don’t remember if she said more, because once again my eyes saw the only one I wanted to think about. Beatrice sat there on the ground by herself, guarding the chariot that had been tied to the tree by the griffin. The seven noble ladies now formed a circle around her, and they held torches that no wind on earth could put out.[10]A moment ago, Matelda had awakened Dante. He seemed only concerned with Beatrice, and here he seems simply to have dismissed Matelda altogether. Beatrice, on the other hand, has changed. She has left … Continue reading
“For a short time now, you shall live outside the walls of our eternal city. Then you will live with me forever as a citizen of that Rome where Christ is Roman. In the mean time, for the good of sinners in the world, keep your eyes on the chariot. Watch carefully so that what you see you can write down when you have gone back.” And I obeyed, paying careful attention to everything I then saw.[11]This short speech by Beatrice is completely without introduction, and it contains a wonderful promise. She tells Dante that he will continue to live in the world, and that when he dies he will join … Continue reading
Never did fire flash down from the remote regions of the sky and strike with such speed and force as did a great eagle, which swooped down into the tree, tearing off some of its new leaves, ripping the bark, and wrecking all its blooms. He smashed broadside against the chariot, which rocked back and forth like a ship caught in a great storm.[12]This is the first of the seven tableaux witnessed by Dante. This and the six that follow it are very different from the first pageant where we witnessed, in a highly symbolic parade, the Church … Continue reading
Then, I saw a lean fox jump up into that glorious cart. From its wasted appearance, it seemed that it had not eaten in a long time. But Beatrice chased it away, shouting at its foul offenses, the creature fleeing as fast as its bony body could carry it.[13]In this second of the seven tableaux, an emaciated fox jumps into the chariot. Shouting at it, Beatrice (here symbolizing Theology and Wisdom) causes the hungry creature (symbolizing its hollow … Continue reading
Once again, the eagle flew down through the tree–this time into the chariot itself, leaving some of its golden feathers there. When this happened, I heard a mournful voice from Heaven say: “O my little boat, what evil cargo you have to carry!”[14]This is the third of the seven tableaux. The eagle of the Empire returns, flies through the Tree of Knowledge again, and this time lands inside the chariot. There it leaves some of its golden … Continue reading
As I watched this, I saw the ground open up under the chariot. A great dragon came out and drove its tail up into the floor of the car. And as a wasp pulls its stinger out, that dragon pulled out its evil tail, tearing away part of the floor with it, and went off.[15]This fourth tableau represents one or more of the schisms that afflicted the Church in its earlier centuries. Most commentators point to Mohammed and the growth of Islam. Recall that Dante places him … Continue reading
Then, as though the chariot were like rich soul where weeds would thrive, it grew feathers–probably with innocent intentions. But the whole chariot–wheels and pole included–was completely overgrown with them more quickly than I could take a breath.[16]This fifth tableau follows from the third one where, because of its growing wealth and power (royal gifts, privileges, acquisition of lands like the Papal States), the Church (chariot) becomes like a … Continue reading
Transformed like this, that feathered car began to grow heads from its various parts. Three grew on the pole, and one from each of the four corners. The three on the pole looked like oxen, with two horns each. But the ones on the four corners had only one horn growing out of the top of their heads. No monster like this has ever been seen![17]In this sixth tableau Dante sees the chariot of the Church turn into a grotesque monster, the likes of which have never been seen. Already covered with feathers, the chariot starts to sprout heads on … Continue reading
And then I saw a naked whore sitting in the chariot–secure like a hilltop castle. She looked here and there with arrogant and lascivious glances. Standing next to her, with jealous looks, was a giant. Again and again they kissed each other. But when those roaming, lustful eyes fell on me, the jealous giant became angry and beat that slut from head to toe. Then, with jealous fury, he unhitched that now-monstrous cart and dragged it and the whore into the woods until the trees blocked them from my sight.[18]If the first Mystical Pageant was spectacular in its heavenly glory, this second pageant is abysmal with its crescendo of tableaux about the ruin of the Church. Virtually everything Dante depicts in … Continue reading
Notes & Commentary
| ↑1 | At 160 lines, this is the longest canto in the Commedia. |
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| ↑2 | Beatrice died in 1290. Given that the Commedia is set in the year 1300, it would be 10 years ago since Dante had seen her. After the harrowing experiences of Hell, the arduous climb up the Mountain of Purgatory, and the rigors of his confession, he is so focused on seeing Beatrice face to face that nothing else seems to matter. Sensing that Dante is feasting his eyes on the beauty of an earthly Beatrice, at the expense of all his other senses, and failing to see her as she really is–the heavenly Beatrice–the three Theological Virtues chide him for such a lack of moderation and narrow view. With much more to learn about how to see spiritual things, he looks away, virtually blinded as though he had been looking at the sun (a symbol for God). |
| ↑3 | When his mortal sight recovers from the blinding vision of Beatrice, Dante sees that the mystical procession is turning around toward the east. Let’s get our bearings before we continue. Earlier, as Dante was standing along the bank of the Lethe, facing north with Virgil and Statius, the procession came along the other bank from the east (where the sun rises, from God) and was heading toward the west. Dante is now on the same side of the Lethe as the procession, but on the far (right) side of the chariot, along with Statius and Matelda. (We tend to forget that Statius has been released from Purgatory and is still present with Dante. He has obviously passed through the Lethe, but we are not told when that happened.) Turning to the right in the Poem has been symbolic of the good and the true. Heading east into the sunrise (it is still morning) is symbolic of the procession moving back to God/Heaven from whence it came. The right wheel, on which the chariot pivots, symbolizes the New Testament, and alongside it dance the three Theological Virtues.
The procession, still led by the great candelabra, is followed by the 24 Elders whom Dante refers to as an army as they make their right turn near him. This is an interesting simile, particularly when we consider that this army is turning (retreating, in a very well-discipline manner) under their shields. Many commentators suggest that this is another transition point. If we back up for a moment, the entire procession, led by the Spirit of God, represents all of time–from creation (books of the Hebrew Bible) to Revelation (New Testament books) with Christ (the griffin) in the center–all of it passing in front of Dante. As noted earlier, this is a procession of the Church Triumphant–virtually everyone in Heaven being represented by the various participants in the pageant. Presenting the “army” under attack and retreating, Dante the Poet is anticipating the next tableaux, representing the Church Militant: the Church and its community of believers here on earth, struggling amid the ups and downs of worldly affairs. As the chariot makes its right turn, the three Theological Virtues and the four Cardinal Virtues turn also (along with Dante, Statius, and Matelda). The griffin, pulling the chariot with Beatrice, also turns. Recall that, unlike other representations of griffins in art and literature, this griffin (representing Christ in his two natures) has great wings. But note how, in all the movement of this great parade, not a single one of its feathers (as part of his divine nature) is ruffled–a symbol of divine serenity. |
| ↑4 | The procession continues to move slowly through the Earthly Paradise keeping time with heavenly music. Perhaps the angels are still singing. Sadly, though, the forest is empty because of the sin of Eve and Adam. Dante tells us that when the procession stopped they had traveled about three times the distance of an arrow shot. The maximum distance for a medieval longbow was about 300 yards, so everyone stops about 900 yards from where they started, about the length of nine football fields.
At this point, Beatrice steps off the chariot near a great barren tree, and everyone murmurs “Adam.” With this, we have certainly arrived at the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil which, along with the Tree of Life, is planted at the center of the Earthly Paradise (see Genesis 2:9). It is appropriate, considering the vast consequences of his sin, that at this spot Adam be mentioned in connection with the barren Tree of Knowledge. Furthermore, we are reminded here of the tree below on the Terrace of Gluttony that was an offshoot of this one, and whose branches were arranged like this one to prevent climbing or, more specifically here, God’s command that it’s fruit must not be eaten. The specific mention of India here is exotic, according to Ronald Martinez, and gives some weight to the traditional notion of Eden as a far away place. The reference to the great height of its trees comes from Virgil’s Georgics (2:112ff). |
| ↑5 | Insofar as the griffin represents Christ, and Christ is a second Adam (1 Corinthians 15:45), he is praised by the gathered participants of the holy procession for not eating from this tree. The pains in the belly are an obvious reference to the effects of (the first Adam’s) sin. Among the Poet’s scriptural resources here, this rather convoluted passage from St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans (5:17-21) gives the bigger picture:
“For if, by the transgression of one person, death came to reign through that one, how much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and of the gift of justification come to reign in life through the one person Jesus Christ. In conclusion, just as through one transgression condemnation came upon all, so through one righteous act acquittal and life came to all. For just as through the disobedience of one person the many were made sinners, so through the obedience of one the many will be made righteous. The law entered in so that transgression might increase but, where sin increased, grace overflowed all the more, so that, as sin reigned in death, grace also might reign through justification for eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” The griffin (Christ) responds to his blessing by quoting words similar to those of Jesus in the Gospel of St. Matthew (3:13ff) when he was baptized by John the Baptist: “Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan to be baptized by him. John tried to prevent him, saying, ‘I need to be baptized by you, and yet you are coming to me?’ Jesus said to him in reply, ‘Allow it now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.’” This, by the way, is the only time the griffin speaks. |
| ↑6 | The chariot symbolizes the Church, and the shaft or pole used by the griffin to pull the chariot symbolizes the Cross. When he leans the pole against the Tree of Knowledge it immediately revives with springtime leaves and fruit and purple blossoms. What the griffin does here is of great importance because it signifies the renewal of life and reconciliation between God and humankind by means of the Cross, which is now joined to the tree by which humankind fell through the sin of Adam and Eve.
There were legends in Dante’s time that the Cross upon which Jesus was crucified was made from the wood of this tree. In the Golden Legend by Jacobus de Voragine, the chapter on the Life of Adam ends with Seth planting three seeds from which the Tree of the Cross grows: “When Adam was close to death, he sent his son Seth into Paradise to the Tree of Life, also known as the Tree of Mercy, to get from it the oil of mercy that would relieve the dying man of his pains. Seth returned and also brought with him three seeds from the Tree of Life. When Adam died, Seth put the seeds under his father’s tongue and buried him. Later, three great trees grew out of Adam’s grave, and from one of them was hewn the Cross on which Jesus was crucified.” Later we read that this tree (only one now) lived until the time of Solomon. Seeing how beautiful it was, he cut it down and put it into his palace. When the Queen of Sheba came to visit, she worshiped this tree because she had a miraculous revelation that the Savior of the world would be hanged upon it, and the kingdom of the Jews would then fall. Hearing this, Solomon had a deep pit dug and had the tree buried in the depths of the earth. Many years later, the inhabitants of Jerusalem had a great pool dug wherein they would cleanse their animals for sacrifice in the Temple [the Pool of Siloam]. As they dug, they found the tree, and the pool had great power for healing when the angels stirred the water. When the time of Jesus’ arrest came, the tree rose to the top of the pool and floated there. Then it was taken out and used to make the Cross on which the Savior was crucified. Charles Singleton highlights yet another transition point here noting the significance of the purple blooms that now burst forth on the renewed Tree of Knowledge: “The color between red and violet is purple and signifies Christ’s sacrifice. The plant is symbolically colored with His blood and is renewed through His crucifixion. This signal now establishes this cardinal point of reference in time for the chronological sequence of events that follow.” |
| ↑7 | Those gathered around the renewed Tree of Knowledge begin to sing a hymn. That it’s not recognizable because it’s not sung on earth begs the question, of course. What might it have been? And Dante himself is no help here because he fell asleep listening to it! However, Robert Hollander, in his commentary here does quite a bit of literary sleuthing. “We are looking for a song with two characteristics: it must be unknown on earth and it almost certainly must be in celebration of Jesus’ victory over death.” He concludes that the hymn is referenced in the Book of Revelation at the end of the New Testament. In chapter 14:3 we read about the 144,000 who are saved: “They were singing what seemed to be a new hymn before the throne, before the four living creatures and the elders. No one could learn this hymn except the hundred and forty-four thousand who had been ransomed from the earth.” Indeed, there are many hymns in the Book of Revelation for which we have the texts, but not this one. Since this “new hymn” is reserved only for those who are saved at the end of the world, it is not known by us (Dante) yet.
That Dante falls asleep when he hears the heavenly singing is not meant to indicate any rudeness on his part. Quite the opposite. His attention to the music gives him a deep sense of serene peace and tranquility in this place where he has witnessed the symbolic re-flowering of the Tree of Knowledge and the symbolic reconciliation of God and humankind through the Cross. At this moment, one might say, the Earthly Paradise has been restored to its original state for the Pilgrim’s benefit. The story of Argus from Ovid’s Metamorphoses (I:568-747) is not humorous, but the way Dante uses it here gives one a smirk as we try to picture him painting himself falling asleep! In Ovid’s story, Jupiter fell in love with the beautiful Io and was caught by his wife Juno. She promptly turned the girl into a cow. To keep an eye (pun intended) on the cow/Io, Juno put the hundred-eyed Argus on guard. Not to be outdone, Jupiter sent Mercury to lull Argo to sleep with music or, according to Ovid, by telling stories of Pan and Syrinx. Asleep, Mercury cut his head off, and Juno put the eyes of Argo into the peacock’s tail. Perhaps thinking of a smirk himself, Mark Musa notes here: The tribute to Ovid helps to temper the high seriousness of this interlude on the mountain by suggesting that by imitation, Dante might be putting us to sleep.” |
| ↑8 | A moment ago, Dante had fallen into a deep sleep listening to heavenly music. Jolted awake by a bright light, he finds himself being chided by Matelda. What follows will be another transition point among these many scenes here in the Earthly Paradise.
As though to excuse himself for sleeping, Dante tells a version of the Transfiguration story in St. Luke’s Gospel (9:28-36). Jesus went up a mountain to pray and took along with him Peter, James, and John. While praying, Jesus’ appearance and clothing became dazzlingly bright and he was seen talking with Moses (representing the Law) and Elijah (representing the prophets). The three disciples had fallen asleep earlier, but were now fully awake and saw what was happening. Soon, they were covered by a cloud and heard the voice of God say: “This is my chosen Son, listen to him.” And then they were alone. (By the way, Dante’s sons were named Peter, James, and John. Pietro di Dante was the first to comment and lecture on his father’s work.) Dante embellishes this story with additional imagery as though he, himself, were one of the apostles. The apple tree is Jesus who is also the host at the eternal banquet where all of heaven celebrates the perpetual marriage feast of Christ and his Church. In Revelation 19:9 we read: “Blessed are those who have been called to the wedding feast of the Lamb.” The Lamb is an ancient Christian symbol of Jesus as the Lamb of God who was sacrificed for our salvation. |
| ↑9 | Dante is so powerfully connected to Beatrice, especially after his confession, that her name is immediately upon his lips as he awakens, frightened that he might have lost her, or, perhaps, that his recent experiences have all been the stuff of dreams. But not so. Matelda points him to where she sits under the shade of the revived Tree of Knowledge accompanied by the seven virtues. The griffin and all the other participants in the mystical procession have gone back to Heaven. Earlier, we experienced the Transfiguration. The griffin (Christ) going back into Heaven represents the Ascension. With Beatrice still present, all that is left is Revelation. |
| ↑10 | A moment ago, Matelda had awakened Dante. He seemed only concerned with Beatrice, and here he seems simply to have dismissed Matelda altogether. Beatrice, on the other hand, has changed. She has left the chariot, and instead of the rather imperious role she played earlier, she is seated on the ground–a symbol of humility–under the shade of the Tree of Knowledge. In her new role, surrounded by the seven virtues, she guards the chariot that the griffin (Christ) had tied to the tree. The chariot now represents the Church in the period after the Ascension to the time of Dante.
Many commentators note that Beatrice also represents Wisdom. Surrounded by her seven handmaids–the Virtues–she symbolizes the wise woman, Wisdom, in the Book of Proverbs: “Wisdom has built her house, she has set up her seven columns (9:1).” Biblical scholars suggest that the seven columns represent fullness and completeness. The house symbolizes friendship with God, to whose banquet we are all invited, which will fill us with joy and contentment. Dante tells us that the seven Virtues held torches that could not be extinguished. Many commentators suggest that these torches are, in fact, the seven great lights that led the mystical procession. These lights represent the Spirit of God and the gifts of God’s Spirit given to us. Once again, the number seven represents fullness and completeness. Once Christ and the rest of the mystical procession have ascended into Heaven, the virtues with their unquenchable lights are left as signs of the presence of God always among us. |
| ↑11 | This short speech by Beatrice is completely without introduction, and it contains a wonderful promise. She tells Dante that he will continue to live in the world, and that when he dies he will join her in Paradise.
With this said, however, she tells Dante that he is going to witness a second pageant–in seven parts–all focused on the chariot and which depict the struggles of the Church from the time of Christ’s Ascension into Heaven to the present (the year 1300). Lending her own authority to one of the chief goals of the Poem, she wants Dante to watch the pageant very carefully and to write down for the benefit of posterity everything he is about to see. |
| ↑12 | This is the first of the seven tableaux witnessed by Dante. This and the six that follow it are very different from the first pageant where we witnessed, in a highly symbolic parade, the Church Triumphant from the beginning of time to the end of the world. In this second group of scenes, Dante sees the real (non-symbolic) struggles of the Church over the last 1300 years played out as a kind of allegory. Ronald Martinez notes in his commentary that these tribulations “recall the seven plagues of the Apocalypse [Book of Revelation] loosed by the opening of the seven seals” (See Rev. 5-8).
Faster than a powerful bolt of lightning, Dante sees a great eagle (symbolizing the Roman Empire’s persecution of the early Church) fly down into the Tree of Knowledge and ravage it before it slams into the side of the chariot (the Church) causing it to rock back and forth like a ship (a traditional image of the Church) in a storm. |
| ↑13 | In this second of the seven tableaux, an emaciated fox jumps into the chariot. Shouting at it, Beatrice (here symbolizing Theology and Wisdom) causes the hungry creature (symbolizing its hollow doctrine) to flee as fast as it could. This fox with its “foul offenses” represents the early heresies that afflicted the early Church. In the Hebrew Bible, the prophet Ezekiel refers to false prophets as “foxes in the desert” (13:4). In his Narrative on Psalm 80, part 14, St. Augustine writes: “Foxes signify treachery, and especially heretics; deceitful, fraudulent, hiding in cavernous corners and deceiving, smelling foul.” |
| ↑14 | This is the third of the seven tableaux. The eagle of the Empire returns, flies through the Tree of Knowledge again, and this time lands inside the chariot. There it leaves some of its golden feathers symbolizing the Church’s gradual acquisition of wealth and power following the Emperor Constantine’s conversion and the end of the persecution of Christians. However, what was worse was what is known as “The Donation of Constantine.” Accordingly, around the year 315AD, the Emperor granted Pope Sylvester I control over the western part of the Empire. Dante, of course, considered this action to be the source of many of the evils plaguing the Church in his time. The document was determined to be a forgery in 1439. For more on the Donation of Constantine, see my commentary on Canto 19 of the Inferno, notes 17 and 20.
Traditionally, the Church has been referred to as a ship, the ship of St. Peter, the head of the Apostles and the first pope. It is he whose voice is heard from Heaven mourning the Church’s loss of its Gospel simplicity by acquiring wealth and power. |
| ↑15 | This fourth tableau represents one or more of the schisms that afflicted the Church in its earlier centuries. Most commentators point to Mohammed and the growth of Islam. Recall that Dante places him among the schismatics in Canto 28 of the Inferno. The dragon here breaks the floor of the Church and threatens its unity. This dragon is Satan, featured as a power of great evil in Chapter 12 of the Book of Revelation. In verse 4 we read: “It’s tail swept away a third of the stars in the sky and hurled them down to the earth.” That the dragon here comes up from below highlights the cleverness and subtlety of the devil’s wiles. |
| ↑16 | This fifth tableau follows from the third one where, because of its growing wealth and power (royal gifts, privileges, acquisition of lands like the Papal States), the Church (chariot) becomes like a rich soil where weeds grow all over it like feathers. Though some of these may have been well-intentioned, Dante notes that these “feathers” growing on the Church spread ever so quickly, like a virus, over the entire chariot, even the wheels and the pole. |
| ↑17 | In this sixth tableau Dante sees the chariot of the Church turn into a grotesque monster, the likes of which have never been seen. Already covered with feathers, the chariot starts to sprout heads on various of its parts. Three heads, looking like the heads of oxen, grow on the pole. Each has two horns. And then one head grows on each of the four corners of the chariot, and these have only one horn on top of their heads. Unfortunately, Dante does not specify whether these four heads are human or beastly. Since the ox heads already have two horns and these four have only one horn on top of their heads, I suggest that they are grotesque human heads. Again, this image comes from the Book of Revelation (13:1): “I saw a beast come out of the sea with ten horns and seven heads.” Throughout the centuries, these seven heads and ten horns have caused scholars grief in their attempts to interpret them. Some interpreters think of the seven horns as the Seven Sacraments and the ten horns as the Ten Commandments. One early interpretation that seems to work better than most is that they represent the Seven Deadly Sins. And some commentators give one or two horns to each sin depending on whether they offend only God or God and neighbor. Thus, Pride, Envy, and Anger, the worst of the sins, have two horns. While Avarice, Sloth, Gluttony, and Lust are lesser sins and have only one horn. That these heads and horns grow on the chariot itself indicates that much of the Church’s corruption has come from within. Regardless of different later interpretations, Dante offers his own–a monstrosity, a parody, a horror, a vision of the Church’s corruption as it has strayed from the simplicity of the Gospel. |
| ↑18 | If the first Mystical Pageant was spectacular in its heavenly glory, this second pageant is abysmal with its crescendo of tableaux about the ruin of the Church. Virtually everything Dante depicts in this scene took place during his lifetime. As each presentation is interpreted, his despair for the revival of the Church is palpable. Yet he would not have us forget that Christ is always present in his Church, even if that presence is only a glimmer.
In this seventh scene, the grotesque chariot–once glorious and occupied by Beatrice–is now occupied by a naked whore, kissed and slapped about by her pimp-giant. Ultimately, the jealous giant (Philip IV of France) unhitches the chariot and drags it off into the forest until it can no longer be seen. But this shameless whore is not a weakling. She sits as firmly on the chariot as a castle on a hilltop. Representing the corrupt papacy that ends up removed from Rome to Avignon (the forest) in 1309, this image of the Whore of Babylon fornicating with the kings of the earth comes again from the Book of Revelation (Chapter 17). The whore’s lusty glances at Dante are difficult to interpret. It is interesting to consider whether the “me” is the Poet or the Pilgrim. Perhaps the “glances,” at least, may represent Boniface VIII’s behind-the-scenes involvement with Dante’s exile. Her being beaten by the giant most likely relates to the incident where Philip IV’s thugs briefly imprisoned and beat Boniface VIII at his castle in 1303. Consider, finally, that the two Pageants “meet” in the Earthly Paradise at the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. The first one represents creation and time until the Ascension of Jesus. When (most of) this pageant returns to Heaven, the second one begins, taking into account 1300 years of history until Dante’s time. At the Tree of Knowledge, Dante meets (or has met) both good and evil. And at Beatrice’s request, he records the seven scenes here for us to learn from. As he noted in an earlier canto, he puts them in his “book.” |