Rage knows no bounds--even in a poem as controlled as Dante's COMEDY. The poet has been offering up an invective about Italian strife and the war-torn landscape that has ruined his home. But in the middle passage of his invective, he may have finally lost all control and committed outright blasphemy.

Or maybe really complex irony. It's hard to tell.

Join me, Mark Scarbrough, as we explore the middle of the invective in PURGATORIO, Canto VI.

Here are the segments for this episode of the podcast WALKING WITH DANTE:

[01:21] My English translation of the medieval Florentine for PURGATORIO, Canto VI, lines 106 - 126. If you'd like to read along, print it off, or drop a comment to continue the conversation, please scroll down this page.

[03:23] Who are the various families in this passage: the Montecchi, the Cappelletti, the Monaldi, and the Filippeschi?

[07:47] Who is the Marcellus who ends this middle section of the invective?

[09:46] To whom is this middle passage of the invective addressed?

[12:28] The poet turn to the (Justinian?) legality of questioning God's purposes.

[13:50] Dante seems to taunt God.

[15:58] Here are two possible answers to the tangled knot of blasphemy in this passage.

And here’s my English translation of Purgatorio, Canto VI, Lines 106 – 126

Come and see the Montecchi and the Cappelletti,

The Monaldi and the Filippeschi, men without a cure—

Some, already wretched; others, loaded with anxiety.

 

Come, cruel one, come and see the distress

Of your nobles and give a thought to their wounds—

Then you’ll see how dark Santafiora is.

 

Come and see your Rome who cries out

Night and day as a widow, left all alone:

“My Caesar, why do you not accompany me?”

 

Come and see how your people love each other!

And if such can’t move you out of pity for us,

Then come out of shame over your reputation.

 

And if I may lawfully ask, O most high Jove,

Who was crucified on earth for us,

Are your righteous eyes bent another direction at the moment?

 

Or is this some preparation in the abyss

Of your own counsel to do some good

Which is altogether beyond our comprehension?

 

For every city in Italy is full up

With tyrants and every idiot who comes along

Thinks he can become Marcellus.