«Dante, perché Virgilio se ne vada,
non pianger anco, non piangere ancora;
ché pianger ti conven per altra spada.»[1]

There have been, over the centuries, two basic kinds of interpretation for Beatrice's first words as an actual presence in the Commedia.  The first is based on the understanding that her promised and threatening "sword" is a metaphor for her impending denunciation of the protagonist's previous disloyal behavior; the second accommodates precisely this understanding, but considers verse 57 as containing a reference to other swords, of various provenance, that make Beatrice's words even more cutting.  Such interpretations only began in the nineteenth century.  The first candidate is found in Luke's Gospel (2:35): "Tuam ipsius animam pertransibit doloris gladius" (mentioned by Tommaseo, Poletto, Mattalia, and now Fosca).  However, with the dawn of the last century, Pauline texts also began to be proposed.  More recently, Beatrice's promised wound was connected with Aeneas's sword, used by Dido to kill herself (Aen. 4.646, 664)—see Storey [2], pp. 89-90, 93.  And just the other day, I read a communication from Nicola Fosca that dealt with the two Pauline texts while making the case for a Eucharistic reading of the scene.  While they both seemed plausibly present in the poet's mind as he described Beatrice's anger, it dawned on me that there might be still another "sword" in Dante's imagination.  Was it possibly the one that he made issue from Beatrice's mouth? 

The corruscating moment in which Beatrice gives the word "Dante" its only presence in the work began to receive adequate attention for its Virgilian context only with the sixteenth-century commentary of Trifon Gabriele, rescued from obscurity by the interest and efforts of Lino Pertile[3].  First of all, and as has been noticed by several after Gabriele [4], Dante's scene is based in one of the most tragic scenes in all of Virgil, dying Orpheus's farewell to his dead Eurydice in the fourth Georgic.  Beatrice's three iterations of the verb piangere echo Dante's preceding (30.49-51) thrice-uttered "Virgilio," which in turn echoes Orpheus's three-fold "Eurydicen" in Virgil (4.525-527).  And, perhaps no less significantly, the only presence of Dante's name in this poem probably reflects the similar moment nearer the end of that Georgic (4.563), in which, for the only time in any of his surviving works, Virgil names himself ("Vergilium")[5].

The opening of this canto presents one suspense-generating scene after another: (1) A thunder clap brings the procession of the twenty-four books of the Old Testament to a sudden halt (30.1-9); (2) Solomon salutes the soon-to-arrive "bride" (10-12); (3) as quickly as the resurrected dead after the Last Judgment shall rise Heavenward, one hundred angels rise on the chariot pulled by the Griffin, singing words found in the Gospels and the Aeneid (13-21); (4) Beatrice appears like the sun veiled by clouds at dawn (22-33); (5) the poet tells us, citing one of his own lyrics, that he was mastered by affection for his lady (34-39); (6) the protagonist turns to Virgil to report his emotions, citing a text from the Aeneid (4.40-54).  This first direct appearance of Beatrice to her lover and poet (her coming to Limbo was recounted by Virgil in Inferno 2.52-117) is considered by many the climax of the poem, or its turning point, or its most dramatic moment, or all of these.  There was much at stake for the poet as he "staged" this scene.  He responded to its challenge by frequent reference to his auctores, principally Virgil and the Bible.

Words for "sword" and "swords" occur roughly 500 times in the Bible.  That the vast majority of them occur in the Old Testament underlines two facts about their comparatively rare presence in the New: The world of Jesus is predicated on rather more peaceful concerns than those of the beleaguered Hebrews; the word "sword" has higher contrastive visibility in this new linguistic universe of fellowship and love.  It is probably instructive to know that gladius occurs in the New Testament only a little more than 6% as often as it did in the Old.  After a first appearance in Matthew (chapter 10) there are sixteen others in the Gospels (Matthew, five times more; Mark, thrice; Luke, six; John, twice).  The word reappears in Acts (twice) and in three of Paul’s epistles (Romans, twice; Ephesians, once; Hebrews, thrice).  The Apocalypse, much concerned with the eventual and dramatic end of sin, displays nine swords with which to frighten us into repentance before the end of days.  Two of those Pauline texts do have an afterlife in this Dantean context, according to some commentators, if enjoying what might be described as only a slight presence: Hebrews 4:12 (Scartazzini, Grandgent, Giacalone), as indicated by Fosca and Wayne Storey (who adds Ephesians 6:17).  These citations both seem generally apt and possibly germane.  However, the gladius spiritus quod est verbum Dei of Ephesians seems more appropriate to Paul’s spada in Purgatorio 29.140, where it is cited by eight twentieth-century commentators in the DDP.  As for the two-edged sword of Hebrews 4:12 (vivus est enim Dei sermo et efficax et penetrabilior omni gladio ancipiti), some in the modern commentary tradition have heard that echo in Purgatorio 29.140: Tommaseo, Campi (citing Bianchi), Poletto.  Hearing it here, in 30.57, are only Giacalone and Fosca.  Does it seem as germane here as there?  Both these Pauline texts may be audible here (as may the sword Dido used to kill herself), and I do not wish to say they are not.  But I think there is another echo that makes itself heard more fittingly and forcefully.

Let us turn to the first appearance of gladius in the New Testament.  It is dramatically unexpected. Jesus explains to his disciples that His purpose is not to bring peace, as Isaiah (9:6: Princeps pacis) might have led them to expect, but discord: nolite arbitrari quia venerim mittere pacem in terram; non veni pacem mittere sed gladium (Matt. 10:34).  His mission will have the effect of destroying human relations based on merely human affection, even those among family members and others in domestic affinity (10:35-37).  This pivotal Christian text is only referred to once in the corpus of commentary gathered in the DDP: by Mattalia (1960) to Par. 11.58-60.  No one, apparently, has thought of its application here.  However, as opposed even to the Pauline and Virgilian texts, I think this one may have a higher claim to our attention.  These are the very words of Christ Himself.  They also reflect the rhythm of the scene: arrival of the beloved (but not as she is fantasized) and consequent pain to the protagonist.  And they also "fit" the larger drama: Beatrice has come as Christ, but particularly as Christ in judgment (Singleton, Giacalone, Hollander, Fosca).  We should not forget that the entire scene is staged as a "last judgment" by verses 13-15.  It occurred to me, when this thesis first began to form in my mind, that it would be helpful to find that Dante had coupled his spada with pace.  And then I remembered that he had.  In Purgatorio 30.9 the gente verace, the Hebrew elect represented by the books of the Old Testament, "al carro volse sé come a sua pace."  Just so, in Matthew 10:34, the disciples of Jesus hope for reassurance as to the continuance of their leader's kind and caring acts and are told that He comes, not in peace, but with a sword.  It is, at least initially, a shock, just as Beatrice's appearance, in ways that may offend our romantic expectations, is masculine (benedictus, not benedicta [verse 19]) and more like an admiral's than a bride's (verse 58). Is the first presence of gladius in the New Testament what we should see in Beatrice’s "spada"?  I think that hypothesis is worth considering.

[2] "The Other Sword of Purgatorio XXX," Dante Studies 107 (1989): 85-99.  Storey points out that Dante had already made reference to Dido's suicide on Aeneas's sword in his late lyric (Rime CIII) Così nel mio parlar, verse 36: "con quella spada ond'elli ancise Dido" (in which his "bella petra" is seen as threatening the prostrate poet with the god of love's sword).

[3] Annotationi nel Dante fatte con M. Trifon Gabriele in Bassano, ed. critica a cura di Lino Pertile. Bologna: Commissione per i testi di lingua, 1993.  And see Hollander's note in Il Virgilio dantesco (Florence: Olschki, 1983), p. 133, written before the publication of Gabriele's commentary.

[4] See Hollander's note to 30.49-51 for the references.

[5] See Hollander's note to 30.63.