Justinian tells of his own life. — The story of the Roman Eagle. — Spirits in the planet Mercury. — Romeo.
After Constantine turned the Eagle counter to the course of the heavens which it had followed behind the ancient who took to wife Lavinia,1 a hundred and a hundred years and more2 the bird of God held itself on the verge of Europe, near to the Mountains3 from which it first came forth, and there governed the world beneath the shadow of the sacred wings, from hand to hand, and thus changing, unto mine own arrived. Caesar I was,4 and am Justinian, who, through will of the primal Love which I feel, drew out from among the laws what was superfluous and vain.5 And before I was intent on this work, I believed one nature to be in Christ, not more,6 and with such faith was content. But the blessed Agapetus, who was the supreme pastor, directed me to the pure faith with his words. I believed him; and that which was in his faith I now see clearly, even as thou seest every contradiction to be both false and true.7 Soon as with the Church I moved my feet, it pleased God, through grace, to inspire me with the high labor, and I gave myself wholly to it. And I entrusted my armies to my Belisarius, to whom the right hand of Heaven was so joined that it was a sign that I should take repose.
1 Constantine, transferring the seat of Empire from Rome to Byzantium, carried the Eagle from West to East, counter to the course along which Aeneas had borne it when he went from Troy to found the Roman Empire.
2 From A. D. 324, when the transfer was begun, to 527, when Justinian became Emperor.
3 Of the Troad, opposite Byzantium.
4 On earth Emperor, but in Heaven earthly dignities exist no longer.
5 The allusion is to Justinian’s codification of the Roman Law.
6 The divine nature only. Dante here follows Brunetto Latini (Li Tresor, I. ii. 87) in an historical error.
7 Of the two terms of a contradictory proposition one is true, the other false.
“Now here to the first question my answer comes to the stop; but its nature constrains me to add a sequel to it, in order that thou mayst see with how much reason1 move against the ensign sacrosanct, both he who appropriates it to himself,2 and he who opposes himself to it.3 See how great virtue has made it worthy of reverence,” and he began from the hour when Pallas4 died to give it a kingdom. “Thou knowest it made in Alba its abode for three hundred years and move, till at the end the three fought with the three4 for its sake still. And thou knowest what it did, from the wrong of the Sabine women clown to the sorrow of Lucretia, in seven kings, conquering the neighboring peoples round about. Thou knowest what it did when borne by the illustrious Romans against Brennus, against Pyrrhus, and against the other chiefs and allies; whereby Torquatus, and Quinctius who was named from his neglected locks, the Decii and the Fabii acquired the fame which willingly I embalm. It struck to earth the pride of the Arabs, who, following Hannibal, passed the Alpine rocks from which thou, Po, glidest. Beneath it, in their youth, Scipio and Pompey triumphed, and to that hill beneath which thou wast born, it seemed bitter.5 Then, near the time when all Heaven willed to bring the world to its own serene mood, Caesar by the will of Rome took it: and what it did from the Var even to the Rhine, the Isere beheld, and the Saone, and the Seine beheld, and every valley whence the Rhone is filled. What afterward it did when it came forth from Ravenna, and leaped the Rubicon, was of such flight that neither tongue nor pen could follow it. Toward Spain it wheeled its troop; then toward Dyrrachium, and smote Pharsalia so that to the warm Nile the pain was felt. It saw again Antandros and Simois, whence it set forth, and there where Hector lies; and ill for Ptolemy then it shook itself. Thence it swooped flashing down on Juba; then wheeled again unto your west, where it heard the Pompeian trumpet. Of what it did with the next standard-bearer,7 Bruttis and Cassius are barking in Hell; and it made Modena and Perugia woful. Still does the sad Cleopatra weep therefor, who, fleeing before it, took from the asp sudden and black death. With him it ran far as the Red Sea shore; with him it set the world in peace so great that on Janus his temple was locked up. But what the ensign which makes me speak had done before, and after was to do, through the mortal realm that is subject to it, becomes in appearance little and obscure, if in the hand of the third Caesar8 it be looked at with clear eye, and with pure affection. For the living Justice which inspires me granted to it, in the hand of him of whom I speak, the glory of doing vengeance for Its own ire9 — now marvel here at that which I unfold to thee, — then with Titus it ran to do vengeance for the avenging of the ancient sin.2 And when the Lombard tooth bit the Holy Church, under its wings Charlemagne, conquering, succored her.
1 Ironical. The meaning is, “how wrongly.”
2 The Ghibelline.
3 The Guelph.
4 Son of Evander, King of Latium, sent by his father to aid Aeneas. His death in battle against Turnus led to that of Turnus himself, and to the possession of the Latian kingdom by Aeneas.
5 The Horatii and Curiatii.
6 According to popular tradition Fiesole was destroyed by the Romans after the defeat of Catiline.
7 Augustus.
8 Tiberius.
9 It was under the authority of Rome that Christ was crucified, whereby the sin of Adam. was avenged.
10 Vengeance was taken on the Jews, because although the death of Christ was divinely ordained, their crime in it was none the less.
“Now canst thou judge of such as those whom I accused above, and of their crimes, which are the cause of all your ills. To the public ensign one opposes the yellow lilies,1 and the other appropriates it to a party, so that it is hard to see which is most at fault. Let the Ghibellines practice, let them practice their art under another ensign, for he ever follows it ill who parts justice and it. And let not this new Charles2 strike it down with his Guelphs, but let him fear its talons, which from a loftier lion have stripped the fell. Often ere now the sons have wept for the sin of the father; and let him not believe that for his lilies Goa win change His arms.
1 The fleur-de-lys of France.
2 Charles II., King of Apulia, son of Charles of Anjou.
“This little star is furnished with good spirits who have been active in order that honor and fame may follow them. And when the desires thus straying mount here, it must needs be that the rays of the true love mount upward less living.1 But in the commeasuring of our wages with our desert is part of our joy, because we see them neither less nor greater. Hereby the living Justice so sweetens the affection in us, that it can never be bent aside to any wrong. Diverse voices make sweet notes; thus in our life diverse benches2 render sweet harmony among these wheels.
1 The desire for fame interferes with, though it may not wholly prevent, the true love of God.
2 The different grades of the blessed.
“And within the present pearl shines the light of Romeo, whose great and beautiful work was ill rewarded. But the Provencals who wrought against him are not smiling; and forsooth he goes an ill road who makes harm for himself of another’s good deed.1 Four daughters, and each a queen, had Raymond Berenger, and Romeo, a humble person and a pilgrim, did this2 for him. And then crooked words moved him to demand a reckoning of this just man, who rendered to him seven and five for ten. Then he departed, poor and old, and if the world but knew the heart he had, while begging his livelihood bit by bit, much as it lauds him it would laud him more.”
1 According to Giovanni Villani (vi. 90), one Romeo, a pilgrim, came to the court of Raymond Berenger IV., Count of Provence (who died, in 1245), and winning the count’s favor, served him with such wisdom and fidelity that by his means his master’s revenues were greatly increased, and his four daughters married to four kings, — Margaret, to Louis IX. of France, St. Louis; Eleanor, to Henry III. of England; Sanzia, to Richard, Earl of Cornwall (brother of Henry III.), elected King of the Romans; and Beatrice, to Charles of Anjou (brother of Louis IX.), King of Apulia and Sicily. The Provencal nobles, jealous of Romeo, procured his dismissal, and he departed, with his mule and his pilgrim’s staff and scrip, and was never seen more.
2 The making each a queen.