COMMENT

HELL

CANTO THE FIFTH.

4.

Here we enter the region of punishment, where

the infernal judge, sentencing the wicked, decides what place they are to occupy, whether in this second circle, or farther below. This second circle is the beginning of what is vulgarly called Hell (1)

the seat of eternal woe. It is the Infernus damnatorum of Catholicism, the sixth circle of Virgil, or Tartarus; within which Aeneas (though he descries it at a distance) does not only not venture, but is even dissuaded by the Sybil from inquiring much about it:

Ne quære doceri

Quam pœnam, aut quæ forma viros fortunave mersit (2). The Pagan Tartarus and this portion of the christian hell are in the strictest sense of the word synonimous: they both mean an eternity of ineffable torment;

(1) C'est au second cercle que commence proprement l'enfer. Hist. Litt. d'Italie. Vol. 2. p. 43.

(2) Aeneid. Lib. VI. v. 614.

sedet, æternumque sedebit,

Infelix....

CANTO V.

Non, mihi si linguæ centum sint, oraque centum,

Omnia pænarum percurrere nomina possim (1). But the Sybil is most cursory; whereas Dante' sups on horrors' in the long residue of 30 Cantos of the present Canticle. Here then he leaves the beaten track; and really undertakes (what in Paradise Lost will by every reader of the Divine Comedy be restricted to the English language)" things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme." The plan of the Aeneid being left, the imitations of its passages diminish too; so I shall become less profuse of quotations, which I should have been more fearful of multiplying, had I not been encouraged by the expressions of Macrobius when instituting a comparison between Homer and Virgil (2).

In sitting down to read this Canto, it were well to prepare the mind by reflecting (as the Author probably did before beginning its composition) that it is to close with one of the most pathetic stories upon record: nor would it derogate much from either the magnificent theme of the poem, or the gravity of the poet, to suppose that it was for the sake of introducing that story this entire Canto was composed. Hence all those named throughout it are distinguished historic personages, who

(1) Aeneid. Lib. v1. v. 617 —625.

(2) Quid enim suavius quam duos præcipuos vates audire idem lo. quentes? Saturnalia, Lib. v. Cap. 3.

CANTO V.

(however their characters differed in other respects) were similar in one common misfortune, that of having been brought to a premature end by erring love: and if the freshest memorial left behind by the verses is not those immortal Demigods and Heroines, but Francesca da Rimini; then was never any such unfading garland hung on the bier of a private female; and, in comparison with it, the tu Marcellus eris of Virgil is a cold gallantry: and no wonder, since one bard wrote to compliment an Empress, and the other to rescue from obloquy his own friend's lovely child. Yet, strange to say, this consideration, of her being the daughter of his friend, has been urged against his putting of her in hell. But Dante was none of those heartless panegyrists who deal in undistinguishing apotheosis. Her bloody catastrophe alrea dy public, and her error probably much exaggerated by the Italian factions, her full justification would never have been admitted. Would it have been truer friendship to have left her unnoticed by his muse? I think not. Would he have insured her more sympathy by placing her in Purgatory, or in Elysium? or, by braving opinion, in Paradise? I think not. A distracted mother, a perhaps more wretched, because a self-accusing father, admiration, anger, sorrow, gratitude agitated the soul of Dante; who wrote this Canto (as some aver, though probably it is a mistake) in the very room where the unfortunate girl was brought up. Not all this

his

CANTO V.

could make him run the hazard of incurring the suspicion of undue partiality, or a want of morals: his scope was too lofty to permit his doing so for the sake of any individual gratification; besides, his judgment told him it would not have answered purpose, and his confidence in his own genius that it was not necessary. The feelings of the heart engaged him to weep for her disaster; and a still more sacred sentiment (if there be one) to avoid advocating even the appearance of immorality. Hence he has at the same time made her an object of tender pity, and her lapse of the fullest measure of an ultra-orthodox severity: or rather he has converted that severity from its tendency to awaken dislike, into one of the most delicious sensations of our nature, pity (1). The stern moralist was well aware of the fount he could command; that in proportion as the writer was rigid, the reader would be compassionate; that by not acting himself as her apologist, he insured her many; and that

(1) The remark of a recent Critic is not only misplaced, but proves that he did not understand the first principle on which is built this melancholy episode of Francesca and Paul - ce ne sont pas des damnés, puisqu'ils sont et puisqu'ils seront toujours ensemble: for if this be a mere figure of rhetoric, it is insipid; since it substitutes a conceit for deep commiseration; and if it be offered as matter of fact, it is incorrect, since they are in the hell-of-the-damned; in its mildest because its uppermost circle it is true, yet within the verge of that place of eternal wail.' Its sufferings are indeed allayed by the survival of that which is celestial virtue when well, and even when ill directed is the least unpardonable of human foibles, love: yet is this region (as forming part of the hell-of-the-damned ) a place of punishment, severe punishment. Hist. Litt. d'Italie, Vol. 2. p. 52.

CANTO V.

his reserve would engage generous minds to be indefatigable in searching for documents that might, if not prove her innocence entirely, at least palliate her weakness. No female then ever had an abler advocate; no friend, a trustier guardian. In their most pathetic passages we rather admire Homer, Virgil, Milton, Tasso, than sympathize deeply with the sorrows of their personages. "To melt the heart" was not a primary object with them, nor with Dante. With tragedians it is; and on this plea alone (if he had no other) Shakespere deserves the dramatic laurel: but if Dante (amid so many still more urgent, epic duties) produced in this multifarious poem a scene or two as pathetic as any in the drama, it is a great merit.

This Circle is 14 miles deeper down than the former one (1). It is not divided like it; but, like it, it presents all round a walk 17 miles broad with a wall 14 miles high on one hand, and on the other the brink of the horrid, central orifice that leads below into the ever-deepening horrors of hell. It is clear, that, by calling it in the approaching verses a 'narrower room' (men luogo cinghia), Dante means only that its extreme dimensions across from wall to wall (the orifice included) are less; which is certain, for as we descend towards the arena of the Coliseum the general space neces

(1) Hell, Comment, Canto iv. p. 220.