The Portable Dante (50 page)

I do not think that wretched Erysichthon had come to such a state of skin and bones, not even when he feared starvation most.

And I said to myself, “Look at those souls! They could be those who lost Jerusalem, when Miriam sunk her beak into her son. ”

The sockets of their eyes were gemless rings; one who reads omoin the face of men, could easily have recognized the m
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33 Who would believe, ignorant of the cause, that nothing but the smell of fruit or spring could bring them to this withered greediness?

I was still marveling at their famishing, since I did not yet understand what caused their leanness and their scabby shriveling,

when suddenly a shadow turned his eyes toward me and stared from deep within his skull, then cried: “What grace has been bestowed on me!”

I never would have known him by his looks, but in his voice I clearly recognized the features that his starving face disguised.

This spark rekindled in my memory the image of those features now so changed, and I could see again Forese’s face.

“Oh, please forget about the crusty scurf discoloring my sickly skin, ” he begged, “pay no attention to my shriveled flesh;

tell me about yourself. And those two with you, tell me who they are too. Please answer me, do not withhold from me what I desire!”

“When death was on your face, I wept, ” I said, “and now the grief I feel is just as great, seeing your face so piteously disfigured.

In God’s name tell me what strips you so bare. Do not ask me to speak, I am benumbed! And one speaks ill whose thoughts are somewhere else. ”

And he: “From the Eternal Mind a power descends into the water and the tree that you just passed: this is what makes me lean.

All of us here who sing while we lament for having stuffed our mouths too lovingly, make ourselves pure, thirsting and hungering.

The fragrance of the fruit and of the spray that trickles down the leaves stirs up in us a hungering desire for food and drink—

and not just once: as we go running round this road, our pain is constantly renewed. Did I say pain? Solace is what I mean!

For that same will that leads us to the tree led Christ to cry out joyously, ‘Eli, ’ when he delivered us with His own blood. ”

And I: “Forese; since that day when you abandoned our world for a better life, less than five years from your last day have passed!

If, when you knew that moment of sweet grief that weds the soul to God again, you were close to your death, able to sin no more—

how have you climbed so high up on the mount? I thought, surely, to find you down below where souls who wasted time must pay with time. ”

“It was my Nella with her flowing tears, ” he answered me, “who brought me here so soon to let me drink the sweet wormwood of pain.

It was her pious prayers and her laments that raised me from the slope where souls must wait, and set me free from all the other rounds.

All the more dear and pleasing to the Lord is my sweet widow that I greatly loved, the more she is unique in doing good;

for the Barbagia of Sardinia counts among its women many far more chaste than those in the Barbagia where she lives.

My dear brother, how can I tell you this: I see a future time—it won’t be long—in which bans from the pulpit shall clamp down

on those ladies of Florence who, bold-faced, now walk our city streets as they parade their bosom to the tits! What barbarous girl,

what female Saracen, had to be taught spiritual discipline, or anything, to keep her body decently concealed?

But if these shameless creatures only knew what the swift heavens have in store for them, they would by now be screaming their heads off!

For if our foresight here does not deceive, they shall have cause to grieve before the cheeks of those now soothed by lullabies grow beards.

My brother, now tell me about yourself. You see how everyone, including me, is staring there where you block out the sun. ”

I answered him: “Whenever you recall what we were like together, you and I, the memory of those days must torture you.

From that life I was called away by him who leads me here—just a few days ago, when his sister (I pointed to the sun)

was shining full. Still wearing this true flesh I came into and through the darkest night of the true dead with this soul as my guide;

from there, sustained by him, I came up here climbing and ever circling round this mount which straightens in you what the world has bent.

He says that I shall have his company until I am where Beatrice is—and from then on, without him I must go.

Virgil (I pointed to him) told me this. The other spirit standing over there is he for whom this mountain’s terraces

trembled just now, releasing him to Heaven. ”

Talking did not slow down our walk, nor did walking our talk: conversing, on we sped like ships enjoying favorable winds.

And all those shades, looking like things twice dead, absorbed the miracle through caved-in eyes: this was a living man which they beheld!

And I, continuing where I left off, said: “He is climbing at a slower pace because of his companion, I suppose.

If you can, tell me where Piccarda is. And, are there any here that I should know among these shades that stare at me like this?”

“My sister, who was just as virtuous as she was lovely, is in triumph now on High Olympus, joyful in her crown. ”

This he said first, and then: “No reason why I should not tell their names—especially since abstinence has milked our features dry.

There”—and he pointed—“Bonagiunta goes, the Luccan Bonagiunta; the one behind—see that face withered more than all the rest—

once held within his arms the Holy Church: he was from Tours, and here he fasts to purge Bolsena’s eels cooked in Vernaccia wine. ”

Then, many others he named, one by one, and all seemed quite content at being named— no one, at least, gave him an angry look.

I saw two souls for hunger chewing air: Ubaldino della Pila, Boniface, who with his crook led multitudes to graze.

I saw Milord Marchese. He, in Forlì, drank endlessly and with less thirst than here— yet no one ever saw him satisfied.

Often a face will stand out in a crowd; this happened here: I singled out the shade from Lucca, who seemed interested in me.

He mumbled something—something like “Gentucca” I heard come from his lips, where he felt most emaciating Justice strip him bare.

“O, soul, ” I said, “you seem so much to want to talk to me; speak up so I can hear; that way your words can satisfy us both. ”

“A woman has been born, ” he said, “and she is still unmarried, who will give you cause to love my city, which all men revile.

Remember well this prophecy of mine, and if the words I muttered are not clear, future events will clarify their sense.

But, tell me, do I not see standing here him who brought forth the new poems that begin:
’Ladies who have intelligence of Love. ’
“

I said to him, “I am one who, when Love inspires me, takes careful note and then, gives form to what he dictates in my heart. ”

“My brother, now I see, ” he said, “the knot that held Guittone and the Notary and me back from the sweet new style I hear!

Now, I see very clearly how your wings fly straight behind the dictates of that Love— this, certainly, could not be said of ours;

and no one who examines the two styles can clarify the difference more than I. ” Then, pleased with what he said, he said no more.

As birds that winter down along the Nile take flight massed close together in the air, then, gaining speed, will fly in single file—

just so that mass of spirits lined up straight, and then, light with their leanness and desire, all of a sudden, sped away from us.

And as a weary racer slows his pace, allowing all the rest to pass him by, until the heaving of his chest subsides,

so did Forese let that holy flock rush by him while he still kept step with me as he inquired: “When shall we meet again?”

“How long my life will last I do not know, ” I said, “but even if I come back soon, my heart already will have reached the shore,

because the place where I was born to live is being stripped of virtue, day by day, doomed, or disposed, to rip itself to ruin. ”