The Literary Remains of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Volume I Part 24

(Cary. [2])

III. Consider the wonderful profoundness of the whole third canto of the 'Inferno'; and especially of the inscription over h.e.l.l gate:

Per me si va, &c.--

which can only be explained by a meditation on the true nature of religion; that is,--reason 'plus' the understanding. I say profoundness rather than sublimity; for Dante does not so much elevate your thoughts as send them down deeper. In this canto all the images are distinct, and even vividly distinct; but there is a total impression of infinity; the wholeness is not in vision or conception, but in an inner feeling of totality, and absolute being.

IV. In picturesqueness, Dante is beyond all other poets, modern or ancient, and more in the stern style of Pindar, than of any other.

Michel Angelo is said to have made a design for every page of the 'Divina Commedia'. As superexcellent in this respect, I would note the conclusion of the third canto of the 'Inferno':

Ed ecco verso noi venir per nave Un vecchio bianco per antico pelo Gridando: guai a voi anime prave: &c. ...

(Ver. 82. &c.)

And lo! toward us in a bark Comes on an old man, h.o.a.ry white with eld, Crying, "Woe to you wicked spirits!" ...

(CARY.)

Caron dimonio con occhi di bragia Loro accennando, tutte le raccoglie: Batte col remo qualunque s' adagia.

Come d' autunno si levan le foglie L' una appresso dell altra, infin che 'l ramo Rende alia terra tutte le sue spoglie; Similemente il mal seme d' Adamo, Gittansi di quel lito ad una ad una Per cenni, com' augel per suo richiamo.

(Ver. 100, &c.)

--Charon, demoniac form, With eyes of burning coal, collects them all, Beck'ning, and each that lingers, with his oar Strikes. As fall off the light autumnal leaves, One still another following, till the bough Strews all its honours on the earth beneath;-- E'en in like manner Adam's evil brood Cast themselves one by one down from the sh.o.r.e Each at a beck, as falcon at his call.

(CARY.)

And this pa.s.sage, which I think admirably picturesque:

Ma poco valse, che l' ale al sospetto Non potero avanzar: quegli and sotto, E quei drizz, volando, suso il petto.

Non altrimenti l' anitra di botto, Quando 'l falcon s' appressa, giu s' attuffa, Ed ei ritorna su crucciato e rotto.

Irato Calcabrina della buffa, Volando dietro gli tenne, invaghito, Che quei campa.s.se, per aver la zuffa: E come 'l barattier fu disparito, Cosi volse gli artigli al suo compagno, E fu con lui sovra 'l fosso ghermito.

Ma l' altro fu bene sparvier grif.a.gno Ad artigliar ben lui, e amedue Cadder nel mezzo del bollente stagno.

Lo caldo sghermidor subito fue: Ma per di levarsi era niente, Si aveano inviscate l' ale sue.

('Infer.' c. xxii. ver. 127, &c.)

But little it avail'd: terror outstripp'd His following flight: the other plung'd beneath, And he with upward pinion rais'd his breast: E'en thus the water-fowl, when she perceives The falcon near, dives instant down, while he Enrag'd and spent retires. That mockery In Calcabrina fury stirr'd, who flew After him, with desire of strife inflam'd; And, for the barterer had 'scap'd, so turn'd His talons on his comrade. O'er the d.y.k.e In grapple close they join'd; but th' other prov'd A goshawk, able to rend well his foe; And in the boiling lake both fell. The heat Was umpire soon between them, but in vain To lift themselves they strove, so fast were glued Their pennons.

(CARY.)

V. Very closely connected with this picturesqueness, is the topographic reality of Dante's journey through h.e.l.l. You should note and dwell on this as one of his great charms, and which gives a striking peculiarity to his poetic power. He thus takes the thousand delusive forms of a nature worse than chaos, having no reality but from the pa.s.sions which they excite, and compels them into the service of the permanent. Observe the exceeding truth of these lines:

Noi ricidemmo 'l cerchio all' altra riva, Sovr' una fonte che bolle, e riversa, Per un fossato che da lei diriva.

L' acqua era buja molto piu che persa: E noi in compagnia dell' onde bige Entrammo giu per una via diversa.

Una palude fa, ch' ha nome Stige, Questo tristo ruscel, quando e disceso Al pie delle maligne piagge grige.

Ed io che di mirar mi stava inteso,-- Vidi genti fangose in quel pantano Ignude tutte, e con sembiante offeso.

Questi si percotean non pur con mano, Ma con la testa, e col petto, e co' piedi, Troncandosi co' denti a brano a brano. ...

Cos girammo della lorda pozza Grand' arco tra la ripa secca e 'l mezzo, Con gli occhi volti a chi del fango ingozza: 'Venimmo appi d' una torre al da.s.sezzo'.

(C. vii. ver. 100 and 127.)

--We the circle cross'd To the next steep, arriving at a well, That boiling pours itself down to a foss Sluic'd from its source. Far murkier was the wave Than sablest grain: and we in company Of th' inky waters, journeying by their side, Enter'd, though by a different track, beneath.

Into a lake, the Stygian nam'd, expands The dismal stream, when it hath reach'd the foot Of the grey wither'd cliffs. Intent I stood To gaze, and in the marish sunk, descried A miry tribe, all naked, and with looks Betok'ning rage. They with their hands alone Struck not, but with the head, the breast, the feet, Cutting each other piecemeal with their fangs. ...

--Our route Thus compa.s.s'd, we a segment widely stretch'd Between the dry embankment and the cove Of the loath'd pool, turning meanwhile our eyes Downward on those who gulp'd its muddy lees; _Nor stopp'd, till to a tower's low base we came._

(CARY.)

VI. For Dante's power,--his absolute mastery over, although rare exhibition of, the pathetic, I can do no more than refer to the pa.s.sages on Francesca di Rimini (Infer. C. v. ver. 73 to the end.) and on Ugolino, (Infer. C. x.x.xiii. ver. 1. to 75.) They are so well known, and rightly so admired, that it would be pedantry to a.n.a.lyze their composition; but you will note that the first is the pathos of pa.s.sion, the second that of affection; and yet even in the first, you seem to perceive that the lovers have sacrificed their pa.s.sion to the cherishing of a deep and rememberable impression.

VII. As to going into the endless subtle beauties of Dante, that is impossible; but I cannot help citing the first triplet of the 29th canto of the Inferno:

La molta gente e le diverse piaghe Avean le luci m 'e s' inebriate, Che dello stare a piangere eran vaghe.

So were mine eyes inebriate with the view Of the vast mult.i.tude, whom various wounds Disfigur'd, that they long'd to stay and weep.

CARY.

Nor have I now room for any specific comparison of Dante with Milton.

But if I had, I would inst.i.tute it upon the ground of the last canto of the Inferno from the 1st to the 69th line, and from the 106th to the end. And in this comparison I should notice Dante's occasional fault of becoming grotesque from being too graphic without imagination; as in his Lucifer compared with Milton's Satan. Indeed he is sometimes horrible rather than terrible,--falling into the [Greek (transliteration): misaeton] instead of the [Greek (transliteration): deinon] of Longinus;[3] in other words, many of his images excite bodily disgust, and not moral fear. But here, as in other cases, you may perceive that the faults of great authors are generally excellencies carried to an excess.

[Footnote 1: Mr. Coleridge here notes: "I will, if I can, here make an historical movement, and pay a proper compliment to Mr. Hallam."

Ed.]

[Footnote 2: Mr. Coleridge here notes: "Here to speak of Mr. Cary's translation."--Ed.]

[Footnote 3: 'De Subl.' 1. ix.]

MILTON.

Born in London, 1608.--Died, 1674.