Dante is welcomed by his ancestor, Cacciaguida. — Cacciaguida tells of his family, and of the simple life of Florence in the old days.
A benign will, wherein the love which righteously inspires always manifests itself, as cupidity does in the evil will, imposed silence on that sweet lyre, and quieted the holy strings which the right hand of heaven slackens and draws tight. How unto just petitions shall those substances be deaf, who, in order to give me wish to pray unto them, were concordant in silence? Well is it that be endlessly should grieve who, for the love of thing which endures not eternally, despoils him of that love.
As, through the tranquil and pure evening skies, a sudden fire shoots from time to time, moving the eyes which were at rest, and seems to be a star which changes place, except that from the region where it is kindled nothing is lost, and it lasts short while, so, from the arm which extends on the right, to the foot of that Cross, ran a star of the constellation which is resplendent there. Nor from its ribbon did the gem depart, but through the radial strip it ran along and seemed like fire behind alabaster. Thus did the pious shade of Anchises advance (if our greatest Muse merits belief), when in Elysium he perceived. his son.1
1 “And he (Anchises), when he saw Aeneas advancing to meet him over the grass, stretched forth both hands eagerly, and the tears poured down his cheeks, and he cried out, ‘Art thou come at length?” — Aeneid, vi. 684-7.
“O sanguis meus! o superinfusa gratia Dei! sicut tibi, cui bis unquam coeli janua reclusa?”1 Thus that light; whereat I gave heed to it; then I turned my sight to my Lady, and on this side and that I was wonderstruck; for within her eyes was glowing such a smile, that with my own I thought to touch the depth of my grace and of my Paradise.
1 “O blood of mine! O grace of God poured from above! To whom, as to thee, was ever the gate of Heaven twice opened?”
Then, gladsome to hear and to see, the spirit joined to his beginning things which I understood not, he spoke so profoundly. Nor did he hide himself to me by choice, but by necessity, for his conception was set above the mark of mortals. And when the bow of his ardent affection was so relaxed that his speech descended towards the mark of our understanding, the first thing that was understood by me was, “Blessed be Thou, Trinal, and One who in my offspring art so courteous.” And he went on, “Grateful and long hunger, derived from reading in the great vouime where white or dark is never changed,1 thou hast relieved, my son, within this light in which I speak to thee, thanks to Her who clothed thee with plumes for the lofty flight. Thou believest that thy thought flows to me from that which is first; even as from the unit, if that be known, ray out the five and six. And therefore who I am, and why I appear to thee more joyous than any other in this glad crowd, thou askest me not. Thou believest the truth; for the less and the great of this life gaze upon the mirror in which, before thou thinkest, thou dost display thy thought. But in order that the sacred Love, in which I watch with perpetual sight, and which makes me thirst with sweet desire, may be fulfilled the better, let thy voice, secure, bold, and glad, utter the wish, utter the desire, to which my answer is already decreed.”
1 In the mind of God, in which there is no change.
I turned me to Beatrice, and she heard before I spoke, and smiled to me a sign which made the wings to my desire grow: and I began thus: “When the first Equality appeared to you, the affection and the intelligence became of one weight for each of you; because the Sun which illumined and warmed you is of such equality in its heat and in its light that all similitudes are defective. But will and discourse in mortals, for the reason which is manifest to you, are diversely feathered in their wings.1 Wherefore I, who am mortal, feel myself in this inequality,2 and therefore I give not thanks, save with my heart, for thy paternal welcome. Truly I beseech thee, living topaz that dost ingem this precious jewel, that thou make me content with thy name?” “O leaf of mine, in whom, while only awaiting, I took pleasure, I was thy root.” Such a beginning he, answering, made to me. Then he said to me: “He from whom thy family is named,3 and who for a hundred years and more has circled the mountain on the first ledge, was my son and was thy great-grandsire. Truly it behoves that thou shorten for him his long fatigue with thy works. Florence, within the ancient circle wherefrom she still takes both tierce and nones,4 was abiding in sober and modest peace. She had not necklace nor coronal, nor dames with ornamented shoes, nor girdle which was more to be looked at than the person. Not yet did the daughter at her birth cause fear to the father, for the time and dowry did not evade measure on this side and that.5 She had not houses void of families;6 Sardanapalus had not yet arrived7 there to show what can be done in a chamber. Not yet by your Uccellatoio was Montemalo surpassed, which, as it has been surpassed in its rise, shall be so in its fall.8 I saw Bellineoin Berti9 go girt with leather and bone,10 and his dame come from her mirror without a painted face. And I saw them of the Nerli, and them of the Vecchio,11 contented with the uncovered skin,12 and their dames with the spindle and the distaff. O fortunate women! Every one was sure of her burial place;13 and as yet no one was deserted in her bed for France.14 One over the cradle kept her careful watch, and, comforting, she used the idiom which first amuses fathers and mothers. Another, drawing the tresses from her distaff, told tales to her household of the Trojans, and of Fiesole, and of Rome.15 A Cianghella,16 a Lapo Salterello would then have been held as great a marvel as Cincinnatus or Cornelia would be now.
1 But will and the discourse of reason, corresponding to affection and intelligence, are unequal in mortals, owing to their imperfection.
2 Which makes it impossible for me to give full expression to my gratitude and affection.
3 Alighiero, from whom, it would appear from his station in Purgatory, Dante inherited the sin of pride, as well as his name.
4 The bell of the church called the Badia, or Abbey, which stood within the old walls of Florence, rang daily the hours for worship, and measured the time for the Florentines. Tierce is the first division of the canonical hours of the day, from six to nine; nones, the third, from twelve to three.
5 They were not married so young as now, nor were such great dowries required for them.
6 Palaces too large for their occupants, built for ostentation.
7 The luxury and effeminacy of Sardanapalus were proverbial.
8 Not yet was the view from Montemalo, or Monte Mario, of Rome in its splendor surpassed by that of Florence from the height of Uccellatoio; and the fall of Florence shall be greater even than that of Rome.
9 Bellincion Berti was “an honorable citizen of Florence,” says Giovanni Villani; “a noble soldier,” adds Benvenuto da Imola. He was father of the “good Gualdrada.” See Hell, XVI.
10 With a plain leathern belt fastened with a clasp of bone.
11 Two ancient and honored families.
12 Clothed in garments of plain dressed skin not covered with cloth.
13 Not fearing to die in exile.
14 Left by her husband seeking fortune in France, or other for. eign lands.
15 These old tales may be read in the first book of Villani’s Chronicle.
16 “Mulier arrogantissima et intolerabilis . . . multum lubrice vixit,” says Benvenuto da Imola, who describes Lapo Salterello as temerarius et pravus civis, vir litigiosus et linguosus.”
“To such a tranquil, to such a beautiful life of citizens, to such a trusty citizenship, to such a sweet inn, Mary, called on with loud cries,1 gave me; and in your ancient Baptistery I became at once a Christian and Cacciaguida. Moronto was my brother, and Eliseo; my dame came to me from the valley of the Po, and thence was thy surname. Afterward I followed the emperor Conrad.2 and he belted me of his soldiery,3 so much by good deeds did I come into his favor. Following him I went against the iniquity of that law4 whose people usurp your right,5 though fault of the shepherd. There by that base folk was I released from the deceitful world, the love of which pollutes many souls, and I came from martyrdom to this peace.”
1 The Virgin, called on in the pains of childbirth.
2 Conrad III. of Suabia. In 1143 he joined in the second Crusade.
3 Made me a belted knight.
4 The law of Mahomet.
5 The Holy Land, by right belonging to the Christians.