Dante’s Purgatorio – Canto 33

Beatrice walks further into the forest and asks Dante to come close to her so that they can speak as they walk. Speaking about the chariot and the great tree, she makes a prophecy and tells Dante that soon enough he will understand what she said. In the mean time, Dante should write everything she has said in his heart so that he can instruct others in the right way when he returns to earth. At high noon, they arrive at the stream of the Eunoë. Beatrice asks Matelda to take Dante and Statius through it. Reborn from its waters, Dante tells us that his second canticle has come to its proper end, and that he is ready to rise up to the stars.

            Deus venerunt gentes, sang the seven noble ladies tearfully, alternating the verses of the Psalm by three and then four. As Beatrice listened, she sighed in sorrow–perhaps only Mary at the cross showed more grief on her face.[1]Having witnessed the various assaults on the Church at the end of the previous canto, this final canto of the Purgatorio begins with an alternating recitation of Psalm 79 by the seven Virtues. … Continue reading

But when the holy virgins had finished their prayer, she rose and, as brilliant as a flame, said to them: “Modicum et non videbitis me; et iterum, my beloved sisters, modicum et vos videbitis me.” Then, she had the seven walk on ahead and, with a slight nod, had the lady, Statius, and me move behind her.[2]When the Psalm is finished, Beatrice gets up from her position by the Tree of Knowledge and speaks to the seven Virtues with the words of Jesus at the Last Supper (John 16:16): “A little while and … Continue reading

            We hadn’t walked too far into the forest when she turned around and looked directly into my eyes and said: “Walk more quickly so that if I desire to speak with you, you’ll be near enough to hear me.” I was delighted to oblige her, and when I came nearer to her she said, “My dear brother, now that you are here with me, why are you hesitant to ask me questions?”[3]This is a very different Beatrice who urges Dante to catch up with her so that they can talk with greater ease. Obviously delighted, one can also imagine the Pilgrim’s surprise. On a new footing … Continue reading

            For a moment, I was like one who holds another in such awe that they can scarcely find the words to speak. But I managed to mutter a few words: “My dear lady, not only do you know all my needs, but you also know how to satisfy them.”[4]As though to heighten the awe he feels at Beatrice’s invitation, and her amicable tone, Dante uses the word “Madonna” to address her, and returns to the formal form with his pronouns. His reply … Continue reading

            “It is my wish,” she then replied, “that you free yourself from any fear or shame, and stop speaking as though you are in a dream.[5]Beatrice is rather opaque here. Dante’s speaking as in a dream most likely refers to defects in his former way of thinking, that is, when he followed after (Lady) Philosophy instead of Beatrice. … Continue reading Understand that the chariot, which was ruined by the dragon, was and is not. Those who bear the blame for this should know that God’s vengeance will not be stopped. The eagle whose feathers were left in the chariot that soon became a monster and then a prey, will not be without an heir forever.[6]She has three points to make: (1) the Chariot which he saw, symbolizing the Church, was assaulted and ruined by the Evil One. It has been destroyed (at least figuratively). The strange form of “was … Continue reading The reason I tell you this is because I can see how the stars clearly tell of a time already near–whose coming nothing can stop–when a five hundred, a ten, and a five will be born as God’s agent to kill that giant and the wretched whore with whom he sins.[7]This obscure prophecy has baffled commentators for centuries. On the most literal level, Beatrice tells Dante that she foresees the emergence of a great leader, sent by God with the sole purpose of … Continue reading

            “It may be that my dark prophecy–not unlike those of Themis or the Sphinx–has only confused you.[8]Admitting that her prophecy is obscure, Beatrice turns to classical mythology, where both Themis and the Sphinx were associated with difficult riddles and obscure prophecies. Themis was the child of … Continue reading But soon enough, events will occur that will make this difficult riddle clear without destroying sheep or fields of grain.[9]What Beatrice is saying here is that her presently obscure words (her riddle) will become clear soon enough without the resulting destruction of flocks and fields, as in the classical case of Themis. … Continue reading Keep my words in mind and repeat them to those you teach, those who live the kind of life that is only a race to death.[10]Beatrice will say more on this in a moment, but at this point she wants to highlight for Dante the salvific potential of his Poem for those whose lives are, to quote St. Augustine in his City of God … Continue reading

            “When you write down what you’ve seen here, make sure you describe the tree you saw, damaged twice. God created that tree for His own holy purpose, and whoever robs or damages it commits a blasphemy against Him. Adam tasted the fruit of this tree and for more than five thousand years he yearned in pain for the One to come who would pay the penalty for that bite.[11]Once again, Beatrice instructs Dante to write down what he has seen, with particular attention to the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, which he saw damaged twice. Actually, one could say that … Continue reading

            “And your mind sleeps if you don’t yet grasp the special reason why the tree is so tall and why it grows wider at the top. If your errant thinking had not been hardened, as if by the waters of the Elsa, and your delight in those thoughts like Pyramus, whose blood stained the mulberry red, then from the tree’s unusual height and shape you might have understood the moral sense of why God banned Adam from coming near it.[12]In her “teaching mode,” Beatrice is quite direct with Dante who, from what she says here, has a hardened mind and still doesn’t understand that this Tree is inviolate and sacrosanct by virtue … Continue reading

            “But I fear that your mind has become like stone–petrified and dark and unable to see the clear light of my words. So, it is my wish that, if you can’t carry back with you what I’ve told you in writing, then at least you’ll have it within you–like a pilgrim’s staff wreathed with palm as a memento of the journey.”[13]Beatrice, reading Dante’s mind, sees that he still doesn’t grasp the significance of her high thinking. As a citizen of the heavenly realm, her thoughts are far beyond his capacity to grasp in … Continue reading

            And I replied: “As wax stamped by a seal always keeps the imprint, just so your seal is imprinted in my brain. But why is it that your words soar so high above me? It seems that the more I try to follow them, the more they elude me.”[14]As we have seen, Dante seems to understand what Beatrice has been saying to him, but the meaning as yet seems to be beyond him. And his frustration is evident. Nevertheless, he assures her, he is a … Continue reading

            “Why?” she answered. “So that you can more clearly understand the school of thought you’ve followed, and match how well it follows mine. And also, so that you can see clearly that your ways are as far from God’s ways as earth is from the highest sphere in the heavens.”[15]We have to recall Beatrice’s prosecution here. After she died Dante abandoned her for another woman–Lady Philosophy. Beatrice pointedly reminded him that Philosophy could never compete with her, … Continue reading

            “But I don’t remember ever having become estranged from you,” I replied. “For my part, my conscience is clear about that.”

            She smiled as she said: “You really don’t remember that? Surely, you must remember drinking the waters of the Lethe just a while ago. If smoke leads us to believe there is fire, the fact that you are forgetful proves that your desires were directed elsewhere. But from now on,” here she looked at me earnestly, “I promise that everything I say will be plain and clear so that your poor mind can grasp it.”[16]Dante’s protest that he has no recollection of having abandoned Beatrice is evidence, she tells him, that the waters of Lethe have served their purpose–that is, to erase all memory of sin and … Continue reading

            It was now high noon, and the blazing sun moved brighter and slower along its meridian track, which shifts here and there depending on where one looks at it. Then, as one who leads others might halt if he sees something unexpected, the seven ladies stopped as they came to a shady place, shadowed beneath the green leaves and dark boughs as a mountain casts its shadow on a cool stream. In front of them, I saw flowing from a single source what might have been the Tigris and Euphrates. Flowing onward, like two friends, they slowly separated.[17]Recalling that the sun is a symbol of God, we haven’t had an astronomical image for quite a while, and this one suggests that time is slowing down, or so it seems when the sun is directly above. … Continue reading

            “O light, O glory of the human race,” I said, “what water is this that flows from a single source and then divides itself in two?”

            And she replied, “Ask Matelda here to explain this to you.”

            Speaking as though she had to clear herself of some blame, that lovely lady replied: “I’ve made this and much more clear to him already. I can’t believe that Lethe would have washed away the memory of that.”

            “Perhaps some greater care is weighing on him,” said Beatrice, “something that obscures his memory and prevents him from seeing clearly. But look, now. Here in front of us is the stream of Eunoë. Lead him to it and, as you are accustomed, restore his darkened powers within its flow.”[18]At the sight of the two streams flowing out of one fountain, Dante once again becomes effusive in his praise of Beatrice as he asks her to tell him about them. The scene that follows is humorous. … Continue reading

            Then, that lovely lady graciously followed Beatrice’s command. Taking me by the hand, she moved forward, saying to Statius, “And you come with him.”[19]As we have just learned her name, we now learn what seems to be Matelda’s function in the Earthly Paradise. She effects the saved souls’ final preparation for Paradise by leading (baptizing) them … Continue reading

            At this point, if I had more time and more words, I would begin to sing about the sweetness of that water, which could never have satisfied my thirst. For now, I have completed what I planned for this second part of my poem, and my art requires that I bring it to an end here. But from out of that sacred stream I came like one reborn, a tree blooming with new leaves, pure, eager, and ready to rise up to the stars.[20]In these closing lines of his Purgatorio Dante addresses the reader. His last act in the Earthly Paradise was to drink from the sweet waters of the Eunoë. Now there is no more he can tell us about … Continue reading

Notes & Commentary

Notes & Commentary
1 Having witnessed the various assaults on the Church at the end of the previous canto, this final canto of the Purgatorio begins with an alternating recitation of Psalm 79 by the seven Virtues. Lamenting the destruction of Jerusalem and its Temple, the Psalm begins: “O God, the nations have invaded your inheritance; they have defiled your holy temple; they have laid Jerusalem in ruins.” Dante compares the grief here experienced by Beatrice with that of the Virgil Mary as she witnessed the crucifixion of her son Jesus.

    Using this Psalm, Dante links the past destruction of Jerusalem and its Temple with the present situation in his own time where the papacy moved from Rome to Avignon. The earlier destruction of Jerusalem, a result of the Israelites’ religious infidelity, led to what is called the Babylonian Captivity of the Jews, which lasted for about 50 years. The move to Avignon was known as the Babylonian Captivity of the Church, and blamed on the corrupt administration of the Church’s affairs. The seven scenes at the end of the previous canto are intended to portray this corruption.

2 When the Psalm is finished, Beatrice gets up from her position by the Tree of Knowledge and speaks to the seven Virtues with the words of Jesus at the Last Supper (John 16:16): “A little while and you will no longer see me, and again a little while later and you will see me.”With these words, Jesus indicated both his impending death (not seeing him) and his resurrection (later seeing him again). A few verses later, Jesus continues: “Amen, amen, I say to you, you will weep and mourn, while the world rejoices; you will grieve, but your grief will become joy.” What Beatrice is doing here is subtly indicating to those who are left with her that their time here in the Earthly Paradise is coming to an end. But that end will not be a sorrowful one, and like Jesus, she uses these words to comfort her “sisters” who had witnessed the terrible assaults on the Church. Soon she will assure them that those wrongs will be redressed.

    As Beatrice finishes speaking the words of Jesus, she actually sets in motion another procession into the forest. The seven Virtues walk in front of her and Matelda, Statius, and Dante walk behind her. Beatrice, now symbolizing Wisdom, takes the place of the griffin and the chariot at the center.

    The reader might be wondering about Statius. At the end of Canto 20, recall, there was a great earthquake that shook the entire Mountain. In Canto 21 we discover that the quake announces the end of a soul’s punishment. Statius was that soul, now bound for Heaven. Since entering the Earthly Paradise with Dante and Virgil, he has had no role to play other than to quietly observe all the action.

3 This is a very different Beatrice who urges Dante to catch up with her so that they can talk with greater ease. Obviously delighted, one can also imagine the Pilgrim’s surprise. On a new footing since his confession–note how she calls him “brother”–he and Beatrice look at each other eye to eye. And since she can read his mind, she also urges him to overcome his hesitancy in questioning her, highlighting the fact that there’s been a significant change in status between them.
4 As though to heighten the awe he feels at Beatrice’s invitation, and her amicable tone, Dante uses the word “Madonna” to address her, and returns to the formal form with his pronouns. His reply also highlights Beatrice’s role as Wisdom–she knows all his needs and knows how to satisfy them.
5 Beatrice is rather opaque here. Dante’s speaking as in a dream most likely refers to defects in his former way of thinking, that is, when he followed after (Lady) Philosophy instead of Beatrice. Recall also his condition at the beginning of Canto 1 of the Inferno: “I really can’t say how I entered that place. I had become so sleepy when I first went astray that I left the path of truth.” She wants him to sharpen his attention now and focus entirely on what she is going to tell him.
6 She has three points to make: (1) the Chariot which he saw, symbolizing the Church, was assaulted and ruined by the Evil One. It has been destroyed (at least figuratively). The strange form of “was and is not” is taken from the Book of Revelation (17:8): “The beast that you saw existed once but now exists no longer. It will come up from the abyss and is headed for destruction. The inhabitants of the earth whose names have not been written in the book of life from the foundation of the world shall be amazed when they see the beast, because it existed once but exists no longer, and yet it will come again.” Note that the “beast” in this passage is a veiled reference to the Emperor Nero. (2) Those responsible for this material destruction of the Church by their abuse and corruption (Popes, members of the Church hierarchy, Kings, etc.) will pay for their wickedness. (3) The eagle (the Roman Empire) will re-appear in a different form. This is probably a reference to a future leader who will destroy the whore and the giant who went off with the chariot at the end of the previous canto. Remember that Dante sets the poem in the year 1300. Though he is writing it (in this case, the Purgatorio) several years later, he sets later events back into the year 1300 as prophesies.
7 This obscure prophecy has baffled commentators for centuries. On the most literal level, Beatrice tells Dante that she foresees the emergence of a great leader, sent by God with the sole purpose of destroying the giant (probably Philip IV) and the whore (the corrupt Church). The reader will recall an equally obscure prophecy about an unnamed future leader–the “big dog” in Canto 1 of the Inferno–who will destroy the savage she-wolf. Ronald Martinez, in his commentary here, highlights three significant passages in the Book of Revelation that match the “job description” of this agent of God: “Babylon, the ‘great whore,’ is destroyed in 18:2. The Antichrist (the beast) is thrown into the pit of fire in 19:20. And Satan, the dragon, is bound and placed in the abyss in 20:2f.”

    Finding hidden meaning in numbers and letters was popular in Dante’s time. However, the meaning of the numerological reference–“a five hundred, a ten, and a five”–was obviously something Dante purposely intended to remain obscure, as there are no clues in the text or the context to help us understand it. Nevertheless, there have been some interesting attempts over the ages. In Roman numerals, the numbers become DXV. Perhaps the closest we can come is the Latin word for leader: DUX. This works in light of the context, but the spelling doesn’t correspond to the numbers. Yet several commentators over the years have pointed to Henry VII as the leader intended by this prophecy. He became the Holy Roman Emperor in 1308.

8 Admitting that her prophecy is obscure, Beatrice turns to classical mythology, where both Themis and the Sphinx were associated with difficult riddles and obscure prophecies. Themis was the child of Gaea and Uranus (Earth and Heaven), the second wife of Zeus, mother of Prometheus, and the goddess of Justice. The Sphinx, part female and part beast, acted as an oracle of Themis and was famous for her riddle to all who passed by her on their way to Thebes. If they couldn’t solve the riddle, she killed them. The tragic Oedipus solved the riddle, and in a fit of rage, the Sphinx threw herself from the pedestal where she sat and was killed. Themis, also outraged, sent a monster to destroy the crops and flocks of the Thebans. What was the famous riddle? “What walks on four legs in the morning, on two at noon, and on three at night?” The answer: “As infants, we crawl on all fours; as adults, we walk on two legs; in old age we walk supported by a cane.”
9 What Beatrice is saying here is that her presently obscure words (her riddle) will become clear soon enough without the resulting destruction of flocks and fields, as in the classical case of Themis. On the surface, this seems clear enough. However, modern scholarship has determined that Dante used an inaccurate translation of Ovid’s Metamorphoses here, which noted that it was the “Naiads” (water nymphs) who solved the riddle of the Sphinx, not “the son of Laiades” (Oedipus).

    Dante’s Italian text reads: “…ma tosto fier li fatti le Naiade, che solveranno questo enigma forte…” (“…but soon the Naiads will be ready to solve this difficult enigma…”). One of the clues for this inaccuracy is the fact that Dante’s earliest commentators also seem to have had inaccurate copies of Ovid because they made the same error. It wasn’t until five hundred years later that commentators had access to more accurate translations.

10 Beatrice will say more on this in a moment, but at this point she wants to highlight for Dante the salvific potential of his Poem for those whose lives are, to quote St. Augustine in his City of God (13:10), “only a race to death.”
11 Once again, Beatrice instructs Dante to write down what he has seen, with particular attention to the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, which he saw damaged twice. Actually, one could say that the Tree was damaged three times–each time a blasphemy. The first damage was done by Adam’s eating of its forbidden fruit. But Dante did not “witness” this. He did, however, witness the next two acts toward the end of the previous canto. The first of these was when the eagle flew into and through the tree ruining its leaves and blossoms. The second was when the giant detached the chariot of the Church from the tree.

    The second reference to Adam, his waiting for salvation by Christ, will be dealt with more precisely in Canto 26 of the Paradiso. Here, the “more than five thousand years” is simply a brief approximation of the time between his expulsion from the Earthly Paradise until Christ’s death, which, according to tradition, reopened Heaven and released the souls of the just from their exile in Limbo. Adam was the first to be released. Virgil had explained this to Dante in Canto 4 of the Inferno.

12 In her “teaching mode,” Beatrice is quite direct with Dante who, from what she says here, has a hardened mind and still doesn’t understand that this Tree is inviolate and sacrosanct by virtue of its extraordinary height and inverted shape, as noted toward the beginning of the previous canto. The fruit of this Tree, of course, had been forbidden to Adam and Eve (see Genesis 2:16f). Its immense height and unusual shape (widening as it rose) were designed to prevent climbing it. Furthermore, there is the tradition that the Cross on which Jesus was crucified was fashioned from this tree.

    The River Elsa rises in the mountains west of Siena, flows northward, and joins the Arno on the western outskirts of Empoli, about 25 miles west of Florence. Beatrice mentions this particular river here in connection with Dante’s “hardened” mind. The waters of the Elsa are noted for their petrifying properties because they are rich in calcium carbonate.

    As for Pyramus, recall the tragic story of he and his lover, Thisbe, in Canto 27 when Dante was passing through the flames. Having killed themselves under a mulberry tree, whose berries were always white, their blood stained its roots and the berries were ever after a blood-red color. Using this second image, Beatrice’s concern is that Dante’s mind is being “stained” by his wandering thoughts which prevent him from understanding why God prevented Adam from eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge.

    Mark Musa puts the case quite simply in his commentary: “The height and shape of the tree should have been evidence enough that God’s commandment was just. All Adam and Eve needed to know was morally implicit in the tree’s inviolability, its being the private property of God, protected by his law.” And John Ciardi explains the matter this way: “The form of the tree symbolizes its essential nature. Interpreted in the moral sense (as distinct, for example, from the allegorical narrative, or anagogical senses) the two main facts of the tree’s form (its great height and inverted crown) express how far above and beyond man is the final understanding of Good and Evil. Hence the justice of God’s interdict in forbidding man what lies beyond his grasp.” The ultimate point of Beatrice’s “lesson” here is that even now (that is, in Dante’s time, and beyond) there are some things we simply cannot fully comprehend.

13 Beatrice, reading Dante’s mind, sees that he still doesn’t grasp the significance of her high thinking. As a citizen of the heavenly realm, her thoughts are far beyond his capacity to grasp in their fullness. Thus, she simply hopes that, if Dante can’t write down what he’s learned, he will still have it in his heart as a memento of his pilgrimage.

    In Dante’s time, the three great pilgrimage destinations were the Holy Land, Rome, and Santiago da Compostella in northwestern Spain. Returning pilgrims often adorned their walking staffs with mementos of where they had been. In this case, the long leaves of palm trees were wrapped around the staffs of pilgrims returning from the Holy Land. Those returning from Rome adorned their staffs with icons of Veronica’s Veil, which is said to have on it the impression of Jesus’s face. And those returning from Compostella adorned their staffs with scallop shells, a symbol for the apostle St. James, whose body is buried there.

    It is not by accident that Beatrice mentions the palm here. Its branches are an ancient symbol of victory, and the tree is referred to as the tree of life. Though she (Dante) would probably not have had this in mind, in the Muslim tradition, according to the prophet Mohammed, “There is among the trees, one which is blessed–it is the date palm, for it was created from the earth left over from the creation of Adam.”

14 As we have seen, Dante seems to understand what Beatrice has been saying to him, but the meaning as yet seems to be beyond him. And his frustration is evident. Nevertheless, he assures her, he is a marked man–the imprint of her seal is on his heart, no matter that he can’t always follow her thinking.
15 We have to recall Beatrice’s prosecution here. After she died Dante abandoned her for another woman–Lady Philosophy. Beatrice pointedly reminded him that Philosophy could never compete with her, as representing the Revelation of Theology. She is being sarcastic here when she asks Dante to see how nicely his pursuit of Philosophy matched her path. Doing this, he will see how inadequate his philosophical pursuits were, and how they could never have led him to God because philosophy depends ultimately on reason, not faith. To make her point, she quotes from the Prophet Isaiah (55:9), who says: “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, my thoughts higher than your thoughts.”
16 Dante’s protest that he has no recollection of having abandoned Beatrice is evidence, she tells him, that the waters of Lethe have served their purpose–that is, to erase all memory of sin and error. That he has no memory of his estrangement is evidence that it was sinful. On the other hand, Ronald Martinez, in his commentary here, takes a different approach: “Strictly speaking, to deduce from their present oblivion that past sins existed is fallacious: the lack of memory of sin might indicate the absence of sin, not the cancellation of one.”

    With Beatrice’s promise to speak clearly from now on, it is safe to assume that she is satisfied with Dante’s conversion and has completely moved away from further prosecution of her case. From now on, she will speak in a manner that is easily understood by Dante. And with this said, we move to the final scene of this second Canticle of the Commedia.

17 Recalling that the sun is a symbol of God, we haven’t had an astronomical image for quite a while, and this one suggests that time is slowing down, or so it seems when the sun is directly above. Mark Musa tells us that this is the last reference to time as measured by the sun in the Poem. It is also noon on the Wednesday after Easter, the seventh day of Dante’s journey, and we are moving toward a significant event.

    Having reached a lovely shaded place in the Earthly Paradise, the seven Virtues, who have been leading this smaller procession, stop at a fountain that comes up out of the ground and separates into two streams. The mention of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers recalls the narrative in Chapter 2 of the Book of Genesis that tells us four great rivers flowed out of the Garden of Eden–these two among them. That these two flow out from the same source comes from The Consolation of Philosophy by Boethius (V,1,1). In reality, we have already seen one of these two streams, the Lethe, and we are about to see the other one.

18 At the sight of the two streams flowing out of one fountain, Dante once again becomes effusive in his praise of Beatrice as he asks her to tell him about them. The scene that follows is humorous. Beatrice tells him that Matelda will explain them to him, and Matelda, baffled, tells Beatrice that she already did–at the end of Canto 28. As she wonders aloud how the Lethe could have washed that memory away, Beatrice cleverly excuses Dante’s absent-mindedness and names this second stream: the Eunoë, whose power restores the memory of all the good one has done in one’s life. Here, again, it is Matelda who leads Dante through these restorative waters. Though we met this lovely young woman almost as soon as Dante entered the Earthly Paradise, it is finally here at this point in the Poem that we learn her name.

    John Ciardi explains the parting of these two streams as they emerge from the ground: “The two rivers flow off in opposite directions, just as their powers, rising from one source, work in opposite ways to achieve one good.”

19 As we have just learned her name, we now learn what seems to be Matelda’s function in the Earthly Paradise. She effects the saved souls’ final preparation for Paradise by leading (baptizing) them first through the waters of the Lethe where they lose all memory of their sins, and then through the waters of the Eunoë where they regain the memory of all the good they did when they were alive. Beatrice, we should note, has only come to the Earthly Paradise for Dante, whereas Matelda, it would appear, has always “worked here.”

    I remarked earlier that Statius seems to get forgotten in these last cantos of the Purgatorio because they’re so focused on Dante’s confession and absolution. Here, though, Matelda’s kind words of inclusion bring him back to the fore. He has been an actual “citizen” on this Mountain and has gained his freedom. Dante has been a visitor, though he, too, has suffered and learned as he climbed.

20 In these closing lines of his Purgatorio Dante addresses the reader. His last act in the Earthly Paradise was to drink from the sweet waters of the Eunoë. Now there is no more he can tell us about Purgatory. Not only has he shown it all to us, but we were privileged, if one wants to think of it that way, to witness his reunion with Beatrice which began with a harsh confrontation that led to his confession and conversion. He has a definite plan for his Poem in mind, and he has reached the goal of this second Canticle. Renewed and purified, he is ready to rise up into the stars–the word with which he ends each of the three parts of his Divina Commedia.