Canto 11

“O our Father who art in Heaven, not circumscribed, but through the greater love which to the first effects on high Thou hast,¹²⁶ praised be Thy name and Thy power by every creature, even as it is befitting to render thanks to Thy sweet effluence. May the peace of Thy Kingdom come towards us, for we to it cannot of ourselves, if it come not, with all our striving. As of their will Thine angels, singing Hosanna, make sacrifice to Thee, so may men make of theirs. Give us this day the daily manna, without which through this rough desert he backward goes, who toils most to go on. And as we pardon every one for the wrong that we have suffered, even do Thou, benignant, pardon and regard not our desert. Our virtue which is easily overcome put not to proof with the old adversary, but deliver from him who so spurs it. This last prayer, dear Lord, truly is not made for ourselves, for it is not needful, but for those who behind us have remained.”

“Our Father in Heaven, you are not confined there, but you dwell there through your greater love for your first creations on high.¹²⁶ May every creature praise your name and your power, as it is fitting to give thanks for your sweet outpouring. May the peace of your Kingdom come to us. For if it does not come, we cannot reach it ourselves, no matter how hard we strive. Just as your angels sacrifice their will to you, singing Hosanna, so may people sacrifice theirs. Give us this day our daily manna. Without it, whoever struggles hardest to advance through this rough desert goes backward. And just as we forgive everyone for the wrongs we have suffered, so, in your kindness, forgive us. Do not judge us by what we deserve. Do not put our virtue, which is easily overcome, to the test against the old adversary. Instead, deliver us from him who so tempts it. Dear Lord, this last prayer is not really for ourselves, for we do not need it. It is for those who have remained behind us.”

Thus praying for themselves and us good speed, those souls were going under the weight, like that of which one sometimes dreams, unequally in anguish, all of them round and round, and weary, along the first cornice, purging away the mists of the world. If good they ask for us always there, what can here be said and done for them by those who have a good root for their will? Truly we ought to aid them to wash away the marks which they bore hence, so that pure and light they may go forth unto the starry wheels.

Praying for good fortune for themselves and us, those souls walked under a weight like one sometimes felt in dreams. All of them were weary, though their anguish varied. They went round and round the first ledge, purging themselves of the world's mist. If they always ask for good things for us there, what can those of us with a good foundation for our will say and do for them here? Surely we should help them wash away the marks they carried from this world. Then they may go forth, pure and light, to the revolving stars.

“Ah! so may justice and pity unburden you speedily that ye may be able to move the wing, which according to your desire may lift you, show on which hand is the shortest way towards the stair; and if there is more than one pass, point out to us that which least steeply slopes; for this man who comes with me, because of the load of the flesh of Adam wherewith he is clothed, is chary against his will of mounting up.” It was not manifest from whom came the words which they returned to these that he whom I was following had spoken, but it was said, “To the right hand along the bank come ye with us, and ye will find the pass possible for a living person to ascend. And if I were not hindered by the stone which tames my proud neck, wherefore I needs must carry my face low, I would look at that one who is still alive and is not named, to see if I know him, and to make him pitiful of this burden. I was Italian, and born of a great Tuscan; Guglielmo Aldobrandesco was my father: I know not if his name was ever with you.¹²⁷ The ancient blood and the gallant deeds of my ancestors made me so arrogant that, not thinking on the common mother, I held every man in scorn to such extreme that I died therefor, as the Sienese know, and every child in Campagnatico knows it. I am Omberto: and not only unto me Pride doth harm, for all my kinsfolk bath she dragged with her into calamity; and here must I heap this weight on her account till God be satisfied,—here among the dead, since I did it not among the living.”

“Ah! May justice and pity soon lift your burden, so that you can move your wings and rise as you desire. Show us the shortest way to the stairs. If there is more than one pass, point out the one with the gentlest slope. For this man who comes with me is clothed in the burden of Adam’s flesh. Because of it, he climbs reluctantly, though he wishes otherwise.” I could not tell who answered the words spoken by the man I was following. But someone said, “Come with us to the right along the bank, and you will find a pass that a living person can climb. A stone holds me back, taming my proud neck and forcing me to keep my face low. If it did not, I would look at the one who is still alive and has not been named. I would see if I knew him, and try to make him pity this burden. I was Italian, born to a great Tuscan. Guglielmo Aldobrandesco was my father. I do not know if you have ever heard his name.¹²⁷ The ancient blood and noble deeds of my ancestors made me arrogant. I gave no thought to our common mother and scorned everyone so deeply that I died for it. The Sienese know this, and so does every child in Campagnatico. I am Omberto. Pride has harmed not only me, for she has dragged all my kinsfolk into disaster with her. Because of Pride, I must carry this weight here until God is satisfied. I must do so here among the dead, since I did not do it among the living.”

Listening, I bent down my face; and one of them, not he who was speaking, twisted himself under the weight that hampers him; and he saw me, and recognized me and called out, keeping his eyes with effort fixed on me, who was going along all stooping with him.¹²⁸ “Oh,” said I to him, “art thou not Oderisi, the honor of Gubbio, and the honor of that art which in Paris is called illumination?” “Brother,” said he, “more smiling are the leaves that Franco of Bologna pencils; the honor is now all his, and mine in part.¹²⁹ Truly I should not have been so courteous while I lived, because of the great desire of excelling whereon my heart was intent. Of such pride here is paid the fee; and yet I should not be here, were it not that, still having power to sin, I turned me unto God. Oh vainglory of human powers! how little lasts the green upon the top, if it be not followed by dull ages.¹³⁰ Cimabue thought to hold the field in painting, and now Giotto has the cry, so that the fame of him is obscured. In like manner one Guido hath taken from the other the glory of the language; and he perhaps is born who shall drive both one and the other from the nest.¹³¹ Worldly renown is naught but a breath of wind, which now comes hence and now comes thence, and changes name because it changes quarter. What more fame shalt thou have, if thou strippest old flesh from thee, than if thou hadst died ere thou hadst left the pap and the chink,¹³² before a thousand years have passed?—which is a shorter space compared to the eternal than a movement of the eyelids to the circle that is slowest turned in Heaven. With him who takes so little of the road in front of me, all Tuscany resounded, and now he scarce is lisped of in Siena, where he was lord when the Florentine rage was destroyed,¹³³ which at that time was proud, as now it is prostitute. Your reputation is color of grass that comes and goes, and he¹³⁴ discolors it through whom it came up fresh from the earth.” And I to him, “Thy true speech brings good humility to my heart, and thou allayest a great swelling in me; but who is he of whom thou now wast speaking?” “He is,” he answered, “Provinzan Salvani;¹³⁵ and he is here, because he was presumptuous in bringing all Siena to his hands. He has gone thus—and he goes without repose—ever since he died: such money doth he pay in satisfaction, who is on earth too daring.” And I, “If that spirit who awaits the verge of life ere he repents abides there below, and unless good prayer further him ascends not hither, ere as much time pass us he lived, how has this coining been granted unto him?” “When he was living most renowned,” said he, “laying aside all shame, of his own accord he planted himself in the Campo of Siena,¹³⁶ and there, to draw his friend from the punishment he was enduring in the prison of Charles, brought himself to tremble in every vein. More I will not say, and I know that I speak darkly; but little time will pass, before thy neighbors will so act that thou wilt he able to gloss it.¹³⁷ This deed released him from those limits.”¹³⁸

As I listened, I bowed my head. One of them, though not the one who was speaking, twisted beneath the weight that held him down. He saw me, recognized me, and called out. With effort, he kept his eyes fixed on me as I walked along, bent low beside him.¹²⁸ “Oh,” I said to him, “are you not Oderisi, the pride of Gubbio and of the art called illumination in Paris?” “Brother,” he said, “the pages painted by Franco of Bologna are more beautiful. The honor is now all his, and only partly mine.¹²⁹ I would not have been so gracious while I lived. My heart was set on the desire to excel. Here, pride like that must pay its price. Yet I would not be here if I had not turned to God while I could still sin. Oh, the vanity of human powers! How briefly their glory stays green at its peak, unless it is followed by dull ages.¹³⁰ “Cimabue thought he held the field in painting. Now Giotto is acclaimed, so that Cimabue’s fame is overshadowed. In the same way, one Guido has taken from the other the glory of the language. Perhaps someone has already been born who will drive both of them from the nest.¹³¹ Worldly fame is nothing but a breath of wind. It blows now from here, now from there, and changes its name when it changes direction. “What more fame will you have after a thousand years if you shed your flesh in old age? Will you have more than if you had died before leaving baby talk and baby food?¹³² A thousand years is a shorter time beside eternity than a blink beside the slowest turning circle in Heaven. All Tuscany once echoed with the name of the man who moves so slowly ahead of me. Now his name is scarcely whispered in Siena. He was its lord when the rage of Florence was crushed.¹³³ Florence was proud then, as it is now a prostitute. Your reputation is like the color of grass, which comes and goes. And he¹³⁴ through whom the grass first grew green from the earth also makes it fade.” I said to him, “Your true words bring a welcome humility to my heart and greatly reduce my swelling pride. But who is the man you were speaking of?” “He is Provinzan Salvani,”¹³⁵ he answered. “He is here because he had the presumption to bring all Siena under his control. He has gone like this, without rest, ever since he died. This is the price paid by anyone who is too daring on earth.” I said, “If a soul waits until the end of life to repent, it remains below. Unless good prayers help it, it cannot come up here until as much time has passed as it lived. How, then, was he allowed to come here?” “When he was at the height of his fame,” he said, “he set aside all shame and went of his own free will to the Campo of Siena.¹³⁶ There he brought himself to tremble in every vein to free his friend from the punishment he was suffering in Charles’s prison. I will say no more, and I know my words are obscure. But before long, your neighbors will act in such a way that you will be able to explain them.¹³⁷ This deed released him from those limits.”¹³⁸