Commentary Inf XXXIII 49

Ugolino, who has just criticized Dante for being cruel because he does not weep, now tells the protagonist that he himself did not weep when he perceived the fate of his sons and of himself. Indeed, he turned to stone. For Hollander (Holl.1984.5), pp. 552-55, the key passage that stands behind this scene is found in Luke's gospel (11:5-13), Christ's parable of the importunate friend. A man is visited by a friend at midnight and goes to the house of another friend to seek bread in order to feed his guest. The importuned friend replies, 'Trouble me not, the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot rise and give you.' Christ comments on the parable, insisting that importuning will eventually work: 'If a son shall ask for bread of any of you that is a father, will he give him a stone?' The various details of the parable, in a form that is both parallel and antithetic to the action recounted here, find their place in Ugolino's narrative: the knocking on the door echoed in the hammer blows nailing up the prison, the man in bed with his children behind a locked door, and the father who will not give his son a stone when he asks for bread. Ugolino, however, gives his sons exactly that, a stony silence. When we ask ourselves what we would do in that situation, we probably know. We would speak, not be silent (see Botterill [Bott.1988.2], p. 287); we would weep with our children, not show Stoic reserve; and, if we were thirteenth-century Italians, we would pray with them after having sought their forgiveness for having involved them, innocent, in our political machinations. The opening passage of Luke 11 has a prayer for us, should we require one, for it is in that text that Jesus teaches his disciples what we know as 'the Lord's prayer.'

That Ugolino himself was involved in the pitiless slaying of the son of 'the good Marzucco' ([Purg VI 18]) is attested by various early commentators, e.g., Benvenuto, saying that his source was Giovanni Boccaccio (DDP Benvenuto.Purg.VI.16-18), the Anonimo Fiorentino (DDP Fiorentino.Purg.VI.16-18), and John of Serravalle (DDP Serravalle.Purg.VI.16-18). Whether the execution (by decapitation) was carried out under Ugolino's direct orders or not, it occurred in 1287 when Ugolino had returned to Pisa as its co-ruler (with Ruggieri), and necessarily would have indicated, in Dante's thoughts, Ugolino's complicity. If Dante wrote this scene with that opinion in mind, it helps to explain his ironic treatment of Ugolino's appeal for pity.