Dante asks Cacciaguida to speak plainly about the future that has been hinted at darkly throughout his journey. He has heard scattered prophecies — from Farinata, from Ciacco, from Brunetto Latini, from others — but they were always veiled, partial, without clear date or detail. He wants to know. Cacciaguida, who sees past and future spread out before him as clearly as present, complies.
The prophecy is direct and devastating. Dante will be exiled from Florence — soon. The blame lies with those in Florence who are already plotting against him: the Blacks, led by Corso Donati and backed by Boniface VIII. He will lose everything he loves most. He will know how bitter it is to climb another man's stairs, how heavy the bread of another's charity. His first refuge will be with the Lombard Scaligeri — the great della Scala family of Verona — whose generosity will precede his asking. Later he will know the court of Cangrande della Scala, the young lord who is already being marked by the stars for greatness.
Dante then asks the hardest question: should he keep silent? Should he soften what he has seen on his journey, to avoid making more enemies? Cacciaguida's answer is one of the great moments of the whole Comedy. He says: your vision of the afterlife will sting many living consciences. But if you suppress the truth out of fear, you are like a man who hides fire — the truth will escape another way and your suppression will only diminish your work. The purpose of your journey is precisely this: to write what you have seen, naming names, showing the world to itself. Let those who are stung cry out. When they cry, it is the cry of recognition — which means the medicine has touched the wound. Speak. Write. Do not be afraid.