Much has been made, in the course of this book, of the importance of eloquence in the presentation of Bernard of Clairvaux as a character in Dante's Commedia: and it has been tacitly assumed, throughout, that the possession and use of oratorical powers are seen by Dante poeta as unequivocally good in themselves, and that they form, outside the fictional context of the poem, some part of the artistic and intellectual ideal to which he, as poet, seeks to aspire. It may be useful, however, as a brief conclusion to my argument, first to refine the former of these ideas and then to take issue with challenges to the latter; and also, finally, to consider how – in Paradiso especially – the practice of eloquence and the appreciation of its virtues co-exist, more or less uneasily, with a clear consciousness of its limitations.

For if, as I believe, Bernard's role in the poem is – at least in part – that of an exemplar of eloquence, and if his position in the narrative (as the last individual encountered by Dante-character, and as spokesman for the celestial multitude) might seem to encourage the view that his linguistic skills, and their exemplary function, enjoy some particular prestige or sanction associated with his proximity to God and with the divinely ordained mission he undertakes on Dante's behalf, it must none the less be conceded that the last word in the Commedia is not, after all, his; and that, moreover, the poem's final canto, both before and, even more, after Bernard ceases to speak (Par., XXXIII. 39), poses a challenge to the resources of eloquence that, it seems, cannot be met easily, adequately, or perhaps even at all, by any form of human language.