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Dante Aligheri and his Divine Creation: The Divine Comedy (La Commedia) | 
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On-line Italian-English side-by-side version below
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(Lots of text to load on this page, be patient. The Comedy text doesn't appear immediately.) |
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The full text, the most famous illustrations, an audio version, and a show to watch on DVD that provides a wonderful introduction to Dante's famous work, all from Amazon.com.
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Dante Aligheri (b.1265 - d.1321), Florence, Italy's most
famous son, lived during turbulent times. Europe was in the process, sometimes the violent process, of deciding how much influence the church should have in running matters of state. Today's Europe is secular, meaning that church and state are separate, and rarely interfere with each other, and refrain from dictating to each other. Secular states allow for greater religious diversity and greater personal liberty than religious states. But that was anything but the case during Dante's time. Dante believed in God, and in secularism. He was persecuted for his secular beliefs by banishment from his beloved nation-state of Florence. So Dante, in exile, sought solace in his religious beliefs: he wrote The Divine Comedy.
Imagine you had been slighted by many of your friends, defeated by your enemies, and was made victim to the machinations of corrupt leaders and civil servants. Now imagine, what your revenge might be. Dante was not a violent man, so his revenge was not bloody. Dante was a writer, so his revenge took the form of a book, The Divine Comedy, in verse that would both entertain and educate readers, and malign those responsible for his situation. If Dante's book were solely rants against his enemies, it would never have stood the test of time. In fact, the parts of The Divine Comedy in which he mentions by name the leaders and rich of his day, wallowing in Hell or Purgatory, are least accessible to us today. We don't know who these people are, so we miss the joke. (However, what a wonderful revenge, to make these people, for eternity, examples of Hell's and Purgatory's torments!)
But by making The Divine Comedy a detailed description of Hell, Purgatory and Paradise, and detailing the sins and qualities that land us in each of these zones of the netherworld, Dante ensured that his tale would appeal to readers forever. It's immensely fun, and delightfully satisfying, to read an imaginative account of where your own enemies might end up, and how they'll suffer eternal damnation for what they've done to you during your lifetime. In fact, the most entertaining section of The Divine Comedy is Hell!
Dante encourages us to behave better in life, just in case his imaginings are anywhere near the truth of what becomes of us after death. Just like religions themselves, Dante, by illustrating the Christian view of afterlife, gives us hope of rewards after death for self-restraint during life. Justice comes to all, even if a bit late, and it lasts for eternity. To top all that off, Dante accomplished another goal of his, one that he had cherished for a long time. He strongly believed that beautiful literature could be written in the daily language of Florentines. So he wrote The Divine Comedy in ordinary Italian, rather than in the preferred Latin. The book's success did wonders for raising the respect level of the Italian language.
Amazingly, Dante's Italian is very readable to student's of today's Italian. It is not like the middle-English literature written in the 1300s, or even like Shakespearean English from the 1600s. Dante's Italian is accessible, especially when accompanied, side-by-side, by an English translation. So I report the text below in both English and Italian, side-by-side. But remember, there are scholars who study The Divine Comedy all their scholarly lives. There are books published yearly interpreting everything from Dante's use of numbers, names, places, stars, words, smells, sounds, light, dark, literary figures--oh, you get the picture.
But that doesn't mean the average reader cannot enjoy The Divine Comedy. Take my advice: kick anyone who tries to tell you The Divine Comedy is too complex, or that you need an accompanying explanatory book ten times the length of the poem. If you enjoy your first read of Dante's entertaining story, you can always consult those books later. My advice would be to start with the parts that interest you the most. For most people, that would be Hell. Those wonderful levels of Hell Dante describes with various sinners and their punishments that fit their crimes, are full of juicy, gory details.
The artist Gustave Dore created dark illustrations of those gory details for an 1885 edition of The Divine Comedy. I've put many of those designs on this page for your enjoyment. For other illustrations, from other editions of the book, check:
If you want an overview of the story, characters, themes, Dante's life, etc., visit the free and invaluable Novel Guide Summary. If you want to see two translations to English, side-by-side, visit this Columbia University site. For a sampling of the scholar's Dante, visit this site and select 'Dante Studies' from the menu. To learn more about the early publications of the book, visit Renaissance Dante in Print. They have a fascinating collection of title pages from editions from 1507 to 1716, showing the progression of 'The Comedy by the Divine Poet Dante Aligheri' to 'The Dante' or just 'Dante' to what we use today 'The Divine Comedy by Dante'.
Here below is The Divine Comedy in English and Italian, side-by-side. (Lots of text to load on this page, be patient. The Comedy text doesn't load immediately.) |
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By
Dante Alighieri
Incipit Comoedia Dantis Alagherii, Florentini natione, non moribus.
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La Commedia
Di
Dante Alighieri
Incipit Comoedia Dantis Alagherii, Florentini natione, non moribus.
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Hell
Canto Highlights:
I. The Dark Forest. The Hill of Difficulty. The Panther, the Lion, and the Wolf. Virgil.
II. The Descent. Dante's Protest and Virgil's Appeal. The Intercession of the Three Ladies Benedight.
III. The Gate of Hell. The Inefficient or Indifferent. Pope Celestine V. The Shores of Acheron. Charon. The Earthquake and the Swoon.
IV. The First Circle, Limbo: Virtuous Pagans and the Unbaptized. The Four Poets, Homer, Horace, Ovid, and Lucan. The Noble Castle of Philosophy.
V. The Second Circle: The Wanton. Minos. The Infernal Hurricane. Francesca da Rimini.
VI. The Third Circle: The Gluttonous. Cerberus. The Eternal Rain. Ciacco. Florence.
VII. The Fourth Circle: The Avaricious and the Prodigal. Plutus. Fortune and her Wheel. The Fifth Circle: The Irascible and the Sullen. Styx.
VIII. Phlegyas. Philippo Argenti. The Gate of the City of Dis.
IX. The Furies and Medusa. The Angel. The City of Dis. The Sixth Circle: Heresiarchs.
X. Farinata and Cavalcante de' Cavalcanti. Discourse on the Knowledge of the Damned.
XI. The Broken Rocks. Pope Anastasius. General Description of the Inferno and its Divisions.
XII. The Minotaur. The Seventh Circle: The Violent. The River Phlegethon. The Violent against their Neighbours. The Centaurs. Tyrants.
XIII. The Wood of Thorns. The Harpies. The Violent against themselves. Suicides. Pier della Vigna. Lano and Jacopo da Sant' Andrea.
XIV. The Sand Waste and the Rain of Fire. The Violent against God. Capaneus. The Statue of Time, and the Four Infernal Rivers.
XV. The Violent against Nature. Brunetto Latini.
XVI. Guidoguerra, Aldobrandi, and Rusticucci. Cataract of the River of Blood.
XVII. Geryon. The Violent against Art. Usurers. Descent into the Abyss of Malebolge.
XVIII. The Eighth Circle, Malebolge: The Fraudulent and the Malicious. The First Bolgia: Seducers and Panders. Venedico Caccianimico. Jason. The Second Bolgia: Flatterers. Allessio Interminelli. Thais.
XIX. The Third Bolgia: Simoniacs. Pope Nicholas III. Dante's Reproof of corrupt Prelates.
XX. The Fourth Bolgia: Soothsayers. Amphiaraus, Tiresias, Aruns, Manto, Eryphylus, Michael Scott, Guido Bonatti, and Asdente. Virgil reproaches Dante's Pity. Mantua's Foundation.
XXI. The Fifth Bolgia: Peculators. The Elder of Santa Zita. Malacoda and other Devils.
XXII. Ciampolo, Friar Gomita, and Michael Zanche. The Malabranche quarrel.
XXIII. Escape from the Malabranche. The Sixth Bolgia: Hypocrites. Catalano and Loderingo. Caiaphas.
XXIV. The Seventh Bolgia: Thieves. Vanni Fucci. Serpents.
XXV. Vanni Fucci's Punishment. Agnello Brunelleschi, Buoso degli Abati, Puccio Sciancato, Cianfa de' Donati, and Guercio Cavalcanti.
XXVI. The Eighth Bolgia: Evil Counsellors. Ulysses and Diomed. Ulysses' Last Voyage.
XXVII. Guido da Montefeltro. His deception by Pope Boniface VIII.
XXVIII. The Ninth Bolgia: Schismatics. Mahomet and Ali. Pier da Medicina, Curio, Mosca, and Bertrand de Born.
XXIX. Geri del Bello. The Tenth Bolgia: Alchemists. Griffolino d' Arezzo and Capocchino.
XXX. Other Falsifiers or Forgers. Gianni Schicchi, Myrrha, Adam of Brescia, Potiphar's Wife, and Sinon of Troy.
XXXI. The Giants, Nimrod, Ephialtes, and Antaeus. Descent to Cocytus.
XXXII. The Ninth Circle: Traitors. The Frozen Lake of Cocytus. First Division, Caina: Traitors to their Kindred. Camicion de' Pazzi. Second Division, Antenora: Traitors to their Country. Dante questions Bocca degli Abati. Buoso da Duera.
XXXIII. Count Ugolino and the Archbishop Ruggieri. The Death of Count Ugolino's Sons. Third Division of the Ninth Circle, Ptolomaea: Traitors to their Friends. Friar Alberigo, Branco d' Oria.
XXXIV. Fourth Division of the Ninth Circle, the Judecca: Traitors to their Lords and Benefactors. Lucifer, Judas Iscariot, Brutus, and Cassius. The Chasm of Lethe. The Ascent. |
Canto Links:
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Inferno: Canto I
Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost.
Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say What was this forest savage, rough, and stern, Which in the very thought renews the fear.
So bitter is it, death is little more; But of the good to treat, which there I found, Speak will I of the other things I saw there.
I cannot well repeat how there I entered, So full was I of slumber at the moment In which I had abandoned the true way.
But after I had reached a mountain's foot, At that point where the valley terminated, Which had with consternation pierced my heart,
Upward I looked, and I beheld its shoulders, Vested already with that planet's rays Which leadeth others right by every road.
Then was the fear a little quieted That in my heart's lake had endured throughout The night, which I had passed so piteously.
And even as he, who, with distressful breath, Forth issued from the sea upon the shore, Turns to the water perilous and gazes;
So did my soul, that still was fleeing onward, Turn itself back to re-behold the pass Which never yet a living person left.
After my weary body I had rested, The way resumed I on the desert slope, So that the firm foot ever was the lower.
And lo! almost where the ascent began, A panther light and swift exceedingly, Which with a spotted skin was covered o'er!
And never moved she from before my face, Nay, rather did impede so much my way, That many times I to return had turned.
The time was the beginning of the morning, And up the sun was mounting with those stars That with him were, what time the Love Divine
At first in motion set those beauteous things; So were to me occasion of good hope, The variegated skin of that wild beast,
The hour of time, and the delicious season; But not so much, that did not give me fear A lion's aspect which appeared to me.
He seemed as if against me he were coming With head uplifted, and with ravenous hunger, So that it seemed the air was afraid of him;
And a she-wolf, that with all hungerings Seemed to be laden in her meagreness, And many folk has caused to live forlorn!
She brought upon me so much heaviness, With the affright that from her aspect came, That I the hope relinquished of the height.
And as he is who willingly acquires, And the time comes that causes him to lose, Who weeps in all his thoughts and is despondent,
E'en such made me that beast withouten peace, Which, coming on against me by degrees Thrust me back thither where the sun is silent.
While I was rushing downward to the lowland, Before mine eyes did one present himself, Who seemed from long-continued silence hoarse.
When I beheld him in the desert vast, "Have pity on me," unto him I cried, "Whiche'er thou art, or shade or real man!"
He answered me: "Not man; man once I was, And both my parents were of Lombardy, And Mantuans by country both of them.
'Sub Julio' was I born, though it was late, And lived at Rome under the good Augustus, During the time of false and lying gods.
A poet was I, and I sang that just Son of Anchises, who came forth from Troy, After that Ilion the superb was burned.
But thou, why goest thou back to such annoyance? Why climb'st thou not the Mount Delectable, Which is the source and cause of every joy?"
"Now, art thou that Virgilius and that fountain Which spreads abroad so wide a river of speech?" I made response to him with bashful forehead.
"O, of the other poets honour and light, Avail me the long study and great love That have impelled me to explore thy volume!
Thou art my master, and my author thou, Thou art alone the one from whom I took The beautiful style that has done honour to me.
Behold the beast, for which I have turned back; Do thou protect me from her, famous Sage, For she doth make my veins and pulses tremble."
"Thee it behoves to take another road," Responded he, when he beheld me weeping, "If from this savage place thou wouldst escape;
Because this beast, at which thou criest out, Suffers not any one to pass her way, But so doth harass him, that she destroys him;
And has a nature so malign and ruthless, That never doth she glut her greedy will, And after food is hungrier than before.
Many the animals with whom she weds, And more they shall be still, until the Greyhound Comes, who shall make her perish in her pain.
He shall not feed on either earth or pelf, But upon wisdom, and on love and virtue; 'Twixt Feltro and Feltro shall his nation be;
Of that low Italy shall he be the saviour, On whose account the maid Camilla died, Euryalus, Turnus, Nisus, of their wounds;
Through every city shall he hunt her down, Until he shall have driven her back to Hell, There from whence envy first did let her loose.
Therefore I think and judge it for thy best Thou follow me, and I will be thy guide, And lead thee hence through the eternal place,
Where thou shalt hear the desperate lamentations, Shalt see the ancient spirits disconsolate, Who cry out each one for the second death;
And thou shalt see those who contented are Within the fire, because they hope to come, Whene'er it may be, to the blessed people;
To whom, then, if thou wishest to ascend, A soul shall be for that than I more worthy; With her at my departure I will leave thee;
Because that Emperor, who reigns above, In that I was rebellious to his law, Wills that through me none come into his city.
He governs everywhere, and there he reigns; There is his city and his lofty throne; O happy he whom thereto he elects!"
And I to him: "Poet, I thee entreat, By that same God whom thou didst never know, So that I may escape this woe and worse,
Thou wouldst conduct me there where thou hast said, That I may see the portal of Saint Peter, And those thou makest so disconsolate."
Then he moved on, and I behind him followed.
Inferno: Canto II
Day was departing, and the embrowned air Released the animals that are on earth From their fatigues; and I the only one
Made myself ready to sustain the war, Both of the way and likewise of the woe, Which memory that errs not shall retrace.
O Muses, O high genius, now assist me! O memory, that didst write down what I saw, Here thy nobility shall be manifest!
And I began: "Poet, who guidest me, Regard my manhood, if it be sufficient, Ere to the arduous pass thou dost confide me.
Thou sayest, that of Silvius the parent, While yet corruptible, unto the world Immortal went, and was there bodily.
But if the adversary of all evil Was courteous, thinking of the high effect That issue would from him, and who, and what,
To men of intellect unmeet it seems not; For he was of great Rome, and of her empire In the empyreal heaven as father chosen;
The which and what, wishing to speak the truth, Were stablished as the holy place, wherein Sits the successor of the greatest Peter.
Upon this journey, whence thou givest him vaunt, Things did he hear, which the occasion were Both of his victory and the papal mantle.
Thither went afterwards the Chosen Vessel, To bring back comfort thence unto that Faith, Which of salvation's way is the beginning.
But I, why thither come, or who concedes it? I not Aeneas am, I am not Paul, Nor I, nor others, think me worthy of it.
Therefore, if I resign myself to come, I fear the coming may be ill-advised; Thou'rt wise, and knowest better than I speak."
And as he is, who unwills what he willed, And by new thoughts doth his intention change, So that from his design he quite withdraws,
Such I became, upon that dark hillside, Because, in thinking, I consumed the emprise, Which was so very prompt in the beginning.
"If I have well thy language understood," Replied that shade of the Magnanimous, "Thy soul attainted is with cowardice,
Which many times a man encumbers so, It turns him back from honoured enterprise, As false sight doth a beast, when he is shy.
That thou mayst free thee from this apprehension, I'll tell thee why I came, and what I heard At the first moment when I grieved for thee.
Among those was I who are in suspense, And a fair, saintly Lady called to me In such wise, I besought her to command me.
Her eyes where shining brighter than the Star; And she began to say, gentle and low, With voice angelical, in her own language:
'O spirit courteous of Mantua, Of whom the fame still in the world endures, And shall endure, long-lasting as the world;
A friend of mine, and not the friend of fortune, Upon the desert slope is so impeded Upon his way, that he has turned through terror,
And may, I fear, already be so lost, That I too late have risen to his succour, From that which I have heard of him in Heaven.
Bestir thee now, and with thy speech ornate, And with what needful is for his release, Assist him so, that I may be consoled.
Beatrice am I, who do bid thee go; I come from there, where I would fain return; Love moved me, which compelleth me to speak.
When I shall be in presence of my Lord, Full often will I praise thee unto him.' Then paused she, and thereafter I began:
'O Lady of virtue, thou alone through whom The human race exceedeth all contained Within the heaven that has the lesser circles,
So grateful unto me is thy commandment, To obey, if 'twere already done, were late; No farther need'st thou ope to me thy wish.
But the cause tell me why thou dost not shun The here descending down into this centre, From the vast place thou burnest to return to.'
'Since thou wouldst fain so inwardly discern, Briefly will I relate,' she answered me, 'Why I am not afraid to enter here.
Of those things only should one be afraid Which have the power of doing others harm; Of the rest, no; because they are not fearful.
God in his mercy such created me That misery of yours attains me not, Nor any flame assails me of this burning.
A gentle Lady is in Heaven, who grieves At this impediment, to which I send thee, So that stern judgment there above is broken.
In her entreaty she besought Lucia, And said, "Thy faithful one now stands in need Of thee, and unto thee I recommend him."
Lucia, foe of all that cruel is, Hastened away, and came unto the place Where I was sitting with the ancient Rachel.
"Beatrice" said she, "the true praise of God, Why succourest thou not him, who loved thee so, For thee he issued from the vulgar herd?
Dost thou not hear the pity of his plaint? Dost thou not see the death that combats him Beside that flood, where ocean has no vaunt?"
Never were persons in the world so swift To work their weal and to escape their woe, As I, after such words as these were uttered,
Came hither downward from my blessed seat, Confiding in thy dignified discourse, Which honours thee, and those who've listened to it.'
After she thus had spoken unto me, Weeping, her shining eyes she turned away; Whereby she made me swifter in my coming;
And unto thee I came, as she desired; I have delivered thee from that wild beast, Which barred the beautiful mountain's short ascent.
What is it, then? Why, why dost thou delay? Why is such baseness bedded in thy heart? Daring and hardihood why hast thou not,
Seeing that three such Ladies benedight Are caring for thee in the court of Heaven, And so much good my speech doth promise thee?"
Even as the flowerets, by nocturnal chill, Bowed down and closed, when the sun whitens them, Uplift themselves all open on their stems;
Such I became with my exhausted strength, And such good courage to my heart there coursed, That I began, like an intrepid person:
"O she compassionate, who succoured me, And courteous thou, who hast obeyed so soon The words of truth which she addressed to thee!
Thou hast my heart so with desire disposed To the adventure, with these words of thine, That to my first intent I have returned.
Now go, for one sole will is in us both, Thou Leader, and thou Lord, and Master thou." Thus said I to him; and when he had moved,
I entered on the deep and savage way.
Inferno: Canto III
"Through me the way is to the city dolent; Through me the way is to eternal dole; Through me the way among the people lost.
Justice incited my sublime Creator; Created me divine Omnipotence, The highest Wisdom and the primal Love.
Before me there were no created things, Only eterne, and I eternal last. All hope abandon, ye who enter in!"
These words in sombre colour I beheld Written upon the summit of a gate; Whence I: "Their sense is, Master, hard to me!"
And he to me, as one experienced: "Here all suspicion needs must be abandoned, All cowardice must needs be here extinct.
We to the place have come, where I have told thee Thou shalt behold the people dolorous Who have foregone the good of intellect."
And after he had laid his hand on mine With joyful mien, whence I was comforted, He led me in among the secret things.
There sighs, complaints, and ululations loud Resounded through the air without a star, Whence I, at the beginning, wept thereat.
Languages diverse, horrible dialects, Accents of anger, words of agony, And voices high and hoarse, with sound of hands,
Made up a tumult that goes whirling on For ever in that air for ever black, Even as the sand doth, when the whirlwind breathes.
And I, who had my head with horror bound, Said: "Master, what is this which now I hear? What folk is this, which seems by pain so vanquished?"
And he to me: "This miserable mode Maintain the melancholy souls of those Who lived withouten infamy or praise.
Commingled are they with that caitiff choir Of Angels, who have not rebellious been, Nor faithful were to God, but were for self.
The heavens expelled them, not to be less fair; Nor them the nethermore abyss receives, For glory none the damned would have from them."
And I: "O Master, what so grievous is To these, that maketh them lament so sore?" He answered: "I will tell thee very briefly.
These have no longer any hope of death; And this blind life of theirs is so debased, They envious are of every other fate.
No fame of them the world permits to be; Misericord and Justice both disdain them. Let us not speak of them, but look, and pass."
And I, who looked again, beheld a banner, Which, whirling round, ran on so rapidly, That of all pause it seemed to me indignant;
And after it there came so long a train Of people, that I ne'er would have believed That ever Death so many had undone.
When some among them I had recognised, I looked, and I beheld the shade of him Who made through cowardice the great refusal.
Forthwith I comprehended, and was certain, That this the sect was of the caitiff wretches Hateful to God and to his enemies.
These miscreants, who never were alive, Were naked, and were stung exceedingly By gadflies and by hornets that were there.
These did their faces irrigate with blood, Which, with their tears commingled, at their feet By the disgusting worms was gathered up.
And when to gazing farther I betook me. People I saw on a great river's bank; Whence said I: "Master, now vouchsafe to me,
That I may know who these are, and what law Makes them appear so ready to pass over, As I discern athwart the dusky light."
And he to me: "These things shall all be known To thee, as soon as we our footsteps stay Upon the dismal shore of Acheron."
Then with mine eyes ashamed and downward cast, Fearing my words might irksome be to him, From speech refrained I till we reached the river.
And lo! towards us coming in a boat An old man, hoary with the hair of eld, Crying: "Woe unto you, ye souls depraved!
Hope nevermore to look upon the heavens; I come to lead you to the other shore, To the eternal shades in heat and frost.
And thou, that yonder standest, living soul, Withdraw thee from these people, who are dead!" But when he saw that I did not withdraw,
He said: "By other ways, by other ports Thou to the shore shalt come, not here, for passage; A lighter vessel needs must carry thee."
And unto him the Guide: "Vex thee not, Charon; It is so willed there where is power to do That which is willed; and farther question not."
Thereat were quieted the fleecy cheeks Of him the ferryman of the livid fen, Who round about his eyes had wheels of flame.
But all those souls who weary were and naked Their colour changed and gnashed their teeth together, As soon as they had heard those cruel words.
God they blasphemed and their progenitors, The human race, the place, the time, the seed Of their engendering and of their birth!
Thereafter all together they drew back, Bitterly weeping, to the accursed shore, Which waiteth every man who fears not God.
Charon the demon, with the eyes of glede, Beckoning to them, collects them all together, Beats with his oar whoever lags behind.
As in the autumn-time the leaves fall off, First one and then another, till the branch Unto the earth surrenders all its spoils;
In similar wise the evil seed of Adam Throw themselves from that margin one by one, At signals, as a bird unto its lure.
So they depart across the dusky wave, And ere upon the other side they land, Again on this side a new troop assembles.
"My son," the courteous Master said to me, "All those who perish in the wrath of God Here meet together out of every land;
And ready are they to pass o'er the river, Because celestial Justice spurs them on, So that their fear is turned into desire.
This way there never passes a good soul; And hence if Charon doth complain of thee, Well mayst thou know now what his speech imports."
This being finished, all the dusk champaign Trembled so violently, that of that terror The recollection bathes me still with sweat.
The land of tears gave forth a blast of wind, And fulminated a vermilion light, Which overmastered in me every sense,
And as a man whom sleep hath seized I fell.
Inferno: Canto IV
Broke the deep lethargy within my head A heavy thunder, so that I upstarted, Like to a person who by force is wakened;
And round about I moved my rested eyes, Uprisen erect, and steadfastly I gazed, To recognise the place wherein I was.
True is it, that upon the verge I found me Of the abysmal valley dolorous, That gathers thunder of infinite ululations.
Obscure, profound it was, and nebulous, So that by fixing on its depths my sight Nothing whatever I discerned therein.
"Let us descend now into the blind world," Began the Poet, pallid utterly; "I will be first, and thou shalt second be."
And I, who of his colour was aware, Said: "How shall I come, if thou art afraid, Who'rt wont to be a comfort to my fears?"
And he to me: "The anguish of the people Who are below here in my face depicts That pity which for terror thou hast taken.
Let us go on, for the long way impels us." Thus he went in, and thus he made me enter The foremost circle that surrounds the abyss.
There, as it seemed to me from listening, Were lamentations none, but only sighs, That tremble made the everlasting air.
And this arose from sorrow without torment, Which the crowds had, that many were and great, Of infants and of women and of men.
To me the Master good: "Thou dost not ask What spirits these, which thou beholdest, are? Now will I have thee know, ere thou go farther,
That they sinned not; and if they merit had, 'Tis not enough, because they had not baptism Which is the portal of the Faith thou holdest;
And if they were before Christianity, In the right manner they adored not God; And among such as these am I myself.
For such defects, and not for other guilt, Lost are we and are only so far punished, That without hope we live on in desire."
Great grief seized on my heart when this I heard, Because some people of much worthiness I knew, who in that Limbo were suspended.
"Tell me, my Master, tell me, thou my Lord," Began I, with desire of being certain Of that Faith which o'ercometh every error,
"Came any one by his own merit hence, Or by another's, who was blessed thereafter?" And he, who understood my covert speech,
Replied: "I was a novice in this state, When I saw hither come a Mighty One, With sign of victory incoronate.
Hence he drew forth the shade of the First Parent, And that of his son Abel, and of Noah, Of Moses the lawgiver, and the obedient
Abraham, patriarch, and David, king, Israel with his father and his children, And Rachel, for whose sake he did so much,
And others many, and he made them blessed; And thou must know, that earlier than these Never were any human spirits saved."
We ceased not to advance because he spake, But still were passing onward through the forest, The forest, say I, of thick-crowded ghosts.
Not very far as yet our way had gone This side the summit, when I saw a fire That overcame a hemisphere of darkness.
We were a little distant from it still, But not so far that I in part discerned not That honourable people held that place.
"O thou who honourest every art and science, Who may these be, which such great honour have, That from the fashion of the rest it parts them?"
And he to me: "The honourable name, That sounds of them above there in thy life, Wins grace in Heaven, that so advances them."
In the mean time a voice was heard by me: "All honour be to the pre-eminent Poet; His shade returns again, that was departed."
After the voice had ceased and quiet was, Four mighty shades I saw approaching us; Semblance had they nor sorrowful nor glad.
To say to me began my gracious Master: "Him with that falchion in his hand behold, Who comes before the three, even as their lord.
That one is Homer, Poet sovereign; He who comes next is Horace, the satirist; The third is Ovid, and the last is Lucan.
Because to each of these with me applies The name that solitary voice proclaimed, They do me honour, and in that do well."
Thus I beheld assemble the fair school Of that lord of the song pre-eminent, Who o'er the others like an eagle soars.
When they together had discoursed somewhat, They turned to me with signs of salutation, And on beholding this, my Master smiled;
And more of honour still, much more, they did me, In that they made me one of their own band; So that the sixth was I, 'mid so much wit.
Thus we went on as far as to the light, Things saying 'tis becoming to keep silent, As was the saying of them where I was.
We came unto a noble castle's foot, Seven times encompassed with lofty walls, Defended round by a fair rivulet;
This we passed over even as firm ground; Through portals seven I entered with these Sages; We came into a meadow of fresh verdure.
People were there with solemn eyes and slow, Of great authority in their countenance; They spake but seldom, and with gentle voices.
Thus we withdrew ourselves upon one side Into an opening luminous and lofty, So that they all of them were visible.
There opposite, upon the green enamel, Were pointed out to me the mighty spirits, Whom to have seen I feel myself exalted.
I saw Electra with companions many, 'Mongst whom I knew both Hector and Aeneas, Caesar in armour with gerfalcon eyes;
I saw Camilla and Penthesilea On the other side, and saw the King Latinus, Who with Lavinia his daughter sat;
I saw that Brutus who drove Tarquin forth, Lucretia, Julia, Marcia, and Cornelia, And saw alone, apart, the Saladin.
When I had lifted up my brows a little, The Master I beheld of those who know, Sit with his philosophic family.
All gaze upon him, and all do him honour. There I beheld both Socrates and Plato, Who nearer him before the others stand;
Democritus, who puts the world on chance, Diogenes, Anaxagoras, and Thales, Zeno, Empedocles, and Heraclitus;
Of qualities I saw the good collector, Hight Dioscorides; and Orpheus saw I, Tully and Livy, and moral Seneca,
Euclid, geometrician, and Ptolemy, Galen, Hippocrates, and Avicenna, Averroes, who the great Comment made.
I cannot all of them pourtray in full, Because so drives me onward the long theme, That many times the word comes short of fact.
The sixfold company in two divides; Another way my sapient Guide conducts me Forth from the quiet to the air that trembles;
And to a place I come where nothing shines.
Inferno: Canto V
Thus I descended out of the first circle Down to the second, that less space begirds, And so much greater dole, that goads to wailing.
There standeth Minos horribly, and snarls; Examines the transgressions at the entrance; Judges, and sends according as he girds him.
I say, that when the spirit evil-born Cometh before him, wholly it confesses; And this discriminator of transgressions
Seeth what place in Hell is meet for it; Girds himself with his tail as many times As grades he wishes it should be thrust down.
Always before him many of them stand; They go by turns each one unto the judgment; They speak, and hear, and then are downward hurled.
"O thou, that to this dolorous hostelry Comest," said Minos to me, when he saw me, Leaving the practice of so great an office,
"Look how thou enterest, and in whom thou trustest; Let not the portal's amplitude deceive thee." And unto him my Guide: "Why criest thou too?
Do not impede his journey fate-ordained; It is so willed there where is power to do That which is willed; and ask no further question."
And now begin the dolesome notes to grow Audible unto me; now am I come There where much lamentation strikes upon me.
I came into a place mute of all light, Which bellows as the sea does in a tempest, If by opposing winds 't is combated.
The infernal hurricane that never rests Hurtles the spirits onward in its rapine; Whirling them round, and smiting, it molests them.
When they arrive before the precipice, There are the shrieks, the plaints, and the laments, There they blaspheme the puissance divine.
I understood that unto such a torment The carnal malefactors were condemned, Who reason subjugate to appetite.
And as the wings of starlings bear them on In the cold season in large band and full, So doth that blast the spirits maledict;
It hither, thither, downward, upward, drives them; No hope doth comfort them for evermore, Not of repose, but even of lesser pain.
And as the cranes go chanting forth their lays, Making in air a long line of themselves, So saw I coming, uttering lamentations,
Shadows borne onward by the aforesaid stress. Whereupon said I: "Master, who are those People, whom the black air so castigates?"
"The first of those, of whom intelligence Thou fain wouldst have," then said he unto me, "The empress was of many languages.
To sensual vices she was so abandoned, That lustful she made licit in her law, To remove the blame to which she had been led.
She is Semiramis, of whom we read That she succeeded Ninus, and was his spouse; She held the land which now the Sultan rules.
The next is she who killed herself for love, And broke faith with the ashes of Sichaeus; Then Cleopatra the voluptuous."
Helen I saw, for whom so many ruthless Seasons revolved; and saw the great Achilles, Who at the last hour combated with Love.
Paris I saw, Tristan; and more than a thousand Shades did he name and point out with his finger, Whom Love had separated from our life.
After that I had listened to my Teacher, Naming the dames of eld and cavaliers, Pity prevailed, and I was nigh bewildered.
And I began: "O Poet, willingly Speak would I to those two, who go together, And seem upon the wind to be so light."
And, he to me: "Thou'lt mark, when they shall be Nearer to us; and then do thou implore them By love which leadeth them, and they will come."
Soon as the wind in our direction sways them, My voice uplift I: "O ye weary souls! Come speak to us, if no one interdicts it."
As turtle-doves, called onward by desire, With open and steady wings to the sweet nest Fly through the air by their volition borne,
So came they from the band where Dido is, Approaching us athwart the air malign, So strong was the affectionate appeal.
"O living creature gracious and benignant, Who visiting goest through the purple air Us, who have stained the world incarnadine,
If were the King of the Universe our friend, We would pray unto him to give thee peace, Since thou hast pity on our woe perverse.
Of what it pleases thee to hear and speak, That will we hear, and we will speak to you, While silent is the wind, as it is now.
Sitteth the city, wherein I was born, Upon the sea-shore where the Po descends To rest in peace with all his retinue.
Love, that on gentle heart doth swiftly seize, Seized this man for the person beautiful That was ta'en from me, and still the mode offends me.
Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving, Seized me with pleasure of this man so strongly, That, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me;
Love has conducted us unto one death; Caina waiteth him who quenched our life!" These words were borne along from them to us.
As soon as I had heard those souls tormented, I bowed my face, and so long held it down Until the Poet said to me: "What thinkest?"
When I made answer, I began: "Alas! How many pleasant thoughts, how much desire, Conducted these unto the dolorous pass!"
Then unto them I turned me, and I spake, And I began: "Thine agonies, Francesca, Sad and compassionate to weeping make me.
But tell me, at the time of those sweet sighs, By what and in what manner Love conceded, That you should know your dubious desires?"
And she to me: "There is no greater sorrow Than to be mindful of the happy time In misery, and that thy Teacher knows.
But, if to recognise the earliest root Of love in us thou hast so great desire, I will do even as he who weeps and speaks.
One day we reading were for our delight Of Launcelot, how Love did him enthral. Alone we were and without any fear.
Full many a time our eyes together drew That reading, and drove the colour from our faces; But one point only was it that o'ercame us.
When as we read of the much-longed-for smile Being by such a noble lover kissed, This one, who ne'er from me shall be divided,
Kissed me upon the mouth all palpitating. Galeotto was the book and he who wrote it. That day no farther did we read therein."
And all the while one spirit uttered this, The other one did weep so, that, for pity, I swooned away as if I had been dying,
And fell, even as a dead body falls.
Inferno: Canto VI
At the return of consciousness, that closed Before the pity of those two relations, Which utterly with sadness had confused me,
New torments I behold, and new tormented Around me, whichsoever way I move, And whichsoever way I turn, and gaze.
In the third circle am I of the rain Eternal, maledict, and cold, and heavy; Its law and quality are never new.
Huge hail, and water sombre-hued, and snow, Athwart the tenebrous air pour down amain; Noisome the earth is, that receiveth this.
Cerberus, monster cruel and uncouth, With his three gullets like a dog is barking Over the people that are there submerged.
Red eyes he has, and unctuous beard and black, And belly large, and armed with claws his hands; He rends the spirits, flays, and quarters them.
Howl the rain maketh them like unto dogs; One side they make a shelter for the other; Oft turn themselves the wretched reprobates.
When Cerberus perceived us, the great worm! His mouths he opened, and displayed his tusks; Not a limb had he that was motionless.
And my Conductor, with his spans extended, Took of the earth, and with his fists well filled, He threw it into those rapacious gullets.
Such as that dog is, who by barking craves, And quiet grows soon as his food he gnaws, For to devour it he but thinks and struggles,
The like became those muzzles filth-begrimed Of Cerberus the demon, who so thunders Over the souls that they would fain be deaf.
We passed across the shadows, which subdues The heavy rain-storm, and we placed our feet Upon their vanity that person seems.
They all were lying prone upon the earth, Excepting one, who sat upright as soon As he beheld us passing on before him.
"O thou that art conducted through this Hell," He said to me, "recall me, if thou canst; Thyself wast made before I was unmade."
And I to him: "The anguish which thou hast Perhaps doth draw thee out of my remembrance, So that it seems not I have ever seen thee.
But tell me who thou art, that in so doleful A place art put, and in such punishment, If some are greater, none is so displeasing."
And he to me: "Thy city, which is full Of envy so that now the sack runs over, Held me within it in the life serene.
You citizens were wont to call me Ciacco; For the pernicious sin of gluttony I, as thou seest, am battered by this rain.
And I, sad soul, am not the only one, For all these suffer the like penalty For the like sin;" and word no more spake he.
I answered him: "Ciacco, thy wretchedness Weighs on me so that it to weep invites me; But tell me, if thou knowest, to what shall come
The citizens of the divided city; If any there be just; and the occasion Tell me why so much discord has assailed it."
And he to me: "They, after long contention, Will come to bloodshed; and the rustic party Will drive the other out with much offence.
Then afterwards behoves it this one fall Within three suns, and rise again the other By force of him who now is on the coast.
High will it hold its forehead a long while, Keeping the other under heavy burdens, Howe'er it weeps thereat and is indignant.
The just are two, and are not understood there; Envy and Arrogance and Avarice Are the three sparks that have all hearts enkindled."
Here ended he his tearful utterance; And I to him: "I wish thee still to teach me, And make a gift to me of further speech.
Farinata and Tegghiaio, once so worthy, Jacopo Rusticucci, Arrigo, and Mosca, And others who on good deeds set their thoughts,
Say where they are, and cause that I may know them; For great desire constraineth me to learn If Heaven doth sweeten them, or Hell envenom."
And he: "They are among the blacker souls; A different sin downweighs them to the bottom; If thou so far descendest, thou canst see them.
But when thou art again in the sweet world, I pray thee to the mind of others bring me; No more I tell thee and no more I answer."
Then his straightforward eyes he turned askance, Eyed me a little, and then bowed his head; He fell therewith prone like the other blind.
And the Guide said to me: "He wakes no more This side the sound of the angelic trumpet; When shall approach the hostile Potentate,
Each one shall find again his dismal tomb, Shall reassume his flesh and his own figure, Shall hear what through eternity re-echoes."
So we passed onward o'er the filthy mixture Of shadows and of rain with footsteps slow, Touching a little on the future life.
Wherefore I said: "Master, these torments here, Will they increase after the mighty sentence, Or lesser be, or will they be as burning?"
And he to me: "Return unto thy science, Which wills, that as the thing more perfect is, The more it feels of pleasure and of pain.
Albeit that this people maledict To true perfection never can attain, Hereafter more than now they look to be."
Round in a circle by that road we went, Speaking much more, which I do not repeat; We came unto the point where the descent is;
There we found Plutus the great enemy.
Inferno: Canto VII
"Pape Satan, Pape Satan, Aleppe!" Thus Plutus with his clucking voice began; And that benignant Sage, who all things knew,
Said, to encourage me: "Let not thy fear Harm thee; for any power that he may have Shall not prevent thy going down this crag."
Then he turned round unto that bloated lip, And said: "Be silent, thou accursed wolf; Consume within thyself with thine own rage.
Not causeless is this journey to the abyss; Thus is it willed on high, where Michael wrought Vengeance upon the proud adultery."
Even as the sails inflated by the wind Involved together fall when snaps the mast, So fell the cruel monster to the earth.
Thus we descended into the fourth chasm, Gaining still farther on the dolesome shore Which all the woe of the universe insacks.
Justice of God, ah! who heaps up so many New toils and sufferings as I beheld? And why doth our transgression waste us so?
As doth the billow there upon Charybdis, That breaks itself on that which it encounters, So here the folk must dance their roundelay.
Here saw I people, more than elsewhere, many, On one side and the other, with great howls, Rolling weights forward by main force of chest.
They clashed together, and then at that point Each one turned backward, rolling retrograde, Crying, "Why keepest?" and, "Why squanderest thou?"
Thus they returned along the lurid circle On either hand unto the opposite point, Shouting their shameful metre evermore.
Then each, when he arrived there, wheeled about Through his half-circle to another joust; And I, who had my heart pierced as it were,
Exclaimed: "My Master, now declare to me What people these are, and if all were clerks, These shaven crowns upon the left of us."
And he to me: "All of them were asquint In intellect in the first life, so much That there with measure they no spending made.
Clearly enough their voices bark it forth, Whene'er they reach the two points of the circle, Where sunders them the opposite defect.
Clerks those were who no hairy covering Have on the head, and Popes and Cardinals, In whom doth Avarice practise its excess."
And I: "My Master, among such as these I ought forsooth to recognise some few, Who were infected with these maladies."
And he to me: "Vain thought thou entertainest; The undiscerning life which made them sordid Now makes them unto all discernment dim.
Forever shall they come to these two buttings; These from the sepulchre shall rise again With the fist closed, and these with tresses shorn.
Ill giving and ill keeping the fair world Have ta'en from them, and placed them in this scuffle; Whate'er it be, no words adorn I for it.
Now canst thou, Son, behold the transient farce Of goods that are committed unto Fortune, For which the human race each other buffet;
For all the gold that is beneath the moon, Or ever has been, of these weary souls Could never make a single one repose."
"Master," I said to him, "now tell me also What is this Fortune which thou speakest of, That has the world's goods so within its clutches?"
And he to me: "O creatures imbecile, What ignorance is this which doth beset you? Now will I have thee learn my judgment of her.
He whose omniscience everything transcends The heavens created, and gave who should guide them, That every part to every part may shine,
Distributing the light in equal measure; He in like manner to the mundane splendours Ordained a general ministress and guide,
That she might change at times the empty treasures From race to race, from one blood to another, Beyond resistance of all human wisdom.
Therefore one people triumphs, and another Languishes, in pursuance of her judgment, Which hidden is, as in the grass a serpent.
Your knowledge has no counterstand against her; She makes provision, judges, and pursues Her governance, as theirs the other gods.
Her permutations have not any truce; Necessity makes her precipitate, So often cometh who his turn obtains.
And this is she who is so crucified Even by those who ought to give her praise, Giving her blame amiss, and bad repute.
But she is blissful, and she hears it not; Among the other primal creatures gladsome She turns her sphere, and blissful she rejoices.
Let us descend now unto greater woe; Already sinks each star that was ascending When I set out, and loitering is forbidden."
We crossed the circle to the other bank, Near to a fount that boils, and pours itself Along a gully that runs out of it.
The water was more sombre far than perse; And we, in company with the dusky waves, Made entrance downward by a path uncouth.
A marsh it makes, which has the name of Styx, This tristful brooklet, when it has descended Down to the foot of the malign gray shores.
And I, who stood intent upon beholding, Saw people mud-besprent in that lagoon, All of them naked and with angry look.
They smote each other not alone with hands, But with the head and with the breast and feet, Tearing each other piecemeal with their teeth.
Said the good Master: "Son, thou now beholdest The souls of those whom anger overcame; And likewise I would have thee know for certain
Beneath the water people are who sigh And make this water bubble at the surface, As the eye tells thee wheresoe'er it turns.
Fixed in the mire they say, 'We sullen were In the sweet air, which by the sun is gladdened, Bearing within ourselves the sluggish reek;
Now we are sullen in this sable mire.' This hymn do they keep gurgling in their throats, For with unbroken words they cannot say it."
Thus we went circling round the filthy fen A great arc 'twixt the dry bank and the swamp, With eyes turned unto those who gorge the mire;
Unto the foot of a tower we came at last.
Inferno: Canto VIII
I say, continuing, that long before We to the foot of that high tower had come, Our eyes went upward to the summit of it,
By reason of two flamelets we saw placed there, And from afar another answer them, So far, that hardly could the eye attain it.
And, to the sea of all discernment turned, I said: "What sayeth this, and what respondeth That other fire? and who are they that made it?"
And he to me: "Across the turbid waves What is expected thou canst now discern, If reek of the morass conceal it not."
Cord never shot an arrow from itself That sped away athwart the air so swift, As I beheld a very little boat
Come o'er the water tow'rds us at that moment, Under the guidance of a single pilot, Who shouted, "Now art thou arrived, fell soul?"
"Phlegyas, Phlegyas, thou criest out in vain For this once," said my Lord; "thou shalt not have us Longer than in the passing of the slough."
As he who listens to some great deceit That has been done to him, and then resents it, Such became Phlegyas, in his gathered wrath.
My Guide descended down into the boat, And then he made me enter after him, And only when I entered seemed it laden.
Soon as the Guide and I were in the boat, The antique prow goes on its way, dividing More of the water than 'tis wont with others.
While we were running through the dead canal, Uprose in front of me one full of mire, And said, "Who 'rt thou that comest ere the hour?"
And I to him: "Although I come, I stay not; But who art thou that hast become so squalid?" "Thou seest that I am one who weeps," he answered.
And I to him: "With weeping and with wailing, Thou spirit maledict, do thou remain; For thee I know, though thou art all defiled."
Then stretched he both his hands unto the boat; Whereat my wary Master thrust him back, Saying, "Away there with the other dogs!"
Thereafter with his arms he clasped my neck; He kissed my face, and said: "Disdainful soul, Blessed be she who bore thee in her bosom.
That was an arrogant person in the world; Goodness is none, that decks his memory; So likewise here his shade is furious.
How many are esteemed great kings up there, Who here shall be like unto swine in mire, Leaving behind them horrible dispraises!"
And I: "My Master, much should I be pleased, If I could see him soused into this broth, Before we issue forth out of the lake."
And he to me: "Ere unto thee the shore Reveal itself, thou shalt be satisfied; Such a desire 'tis meet thou shouldst enjoy."
A little after that, I saw such havoc Made of him by the people of the mire, That still I praise and thank my God for it.
They all were shouting, "At Philippo Argenti!" And that exasperate spirit Florentine Turned round upon himself with his own teeth.
We left him there, and more of him I tell not; But on mine ears there smote a lamentation, Whence forward I intent unbar mine eyes.
And the good Master said: "Even now, my Son, The city draweth near whose name is Dis, With the grave citizens, with the great throng."
And I: "Its mosques already, Master, clearly Within there in the valley I discern Vermilion, as if issuing from the fire
They were." And he to me: "The fire eternal That kindles them within makes them look red, As thou beholdest in this nether Hell."
Then we arrived within the moats profound, That circumvallate that disconsolate city; The walls appeared to me to be of iron.
Not without making first a circuit wide, We came unto a place where loud the pilot Cried out to us, "Debark, here is the entrance."
More than a thousand at the gates I saw Out of the Heavens rained down, who angrily Were saying, "Who is this that without death
Goes through the kingdom of the people dead?" And my sagacious Master made a sign Of wishing secretly to speak with them.
A little then they quelled their great disdain, And said: "Come thou alone, and he begone Who has so boldly entered these dominions.
Let him return alone by his mad road; Try, if he can; for thou shalt here remain, Who hast escorted him through such dark regions."
Think, Reader, if I was discomforted At utterance of the accursed words; For never to return here I believed.
"O my dear Guide, who more than seven times Hast rendered me security, and drawn me From imminent peril that before me stood,
Do not desert me," said I, "thus undone; And if the going farther be denied us, Let us retrace our steps together swiftly."
And that Lord, who had led me thitherward, Said unto me: "Fear not; because our passage None can take from us, it by Such is given.
But here await me, and thy weary spirit Comfort and nourish with a better hope; For in this nether world I will not leave thee."
So onward goes and there abandons me My Father sweet, and I remain in doubt, For No and Yes within my head contend.
I could not hear what he proposed to them; But with them there he did not linger long, Ere each within in rivalry ran back.
They closed the portals, those our adversaries, On my Lord's breast, who had remained without And turned to me with footsteps far between.
His eyes cast down, his forehead shorn had he Of all its boldness, and he said, with sighs, "Who has denied to me the dolesome houses?"
And unto me: "Thou, because I am angry, Fear not, for I will conquer in the trial, Whatever for defence within be planned.
This arrogance of theirs is nothing new; For once they used it at less secret gate, Which finds itself without a fastening still.
O'er it didst thou behold the dead inscription; And now this side of it descends the steep, Passing across the circles without escort,
One by whose means the city shall be opened."
Inferno: Canto IX
That hue which cowardice brought out on me, Beholding my Conductor backward turn, Sooner repressed within him his new colour.
He stopped attentive, like a man who listens, Because the eye could not conduct him far Through the black air, and through the heavy fog.
"Still it behoveth us to win the fight," Began he; "Else. . .Such offered us herself. . . O how I long that some one here arrive!"
Well I perceived, as soon as the beginning He covered up with what came afterward, That they were words quite different from the first;
But none the less his saying gave me fear, Because I carried out the broken phrase, Perhaps to a worse meaning than he had.
"Into this bottom of the doleful conch Doth any e'er descend from the first grade, Which for its pain has only hope cut off?"
This question put I; and he answered me: "Seldom it comes to pass that one of us Maketh the journey upon which I go.
True is it, once before I here below Was conjured by that pitiless Erictho, Who summoned back the shades unto their bodies.
Naked of me short while the flesh had been, Before within that wall she made me enter, To bring a spirit from the circle of Judas;
That is the lowest region and the darkest, And farthest from the heaven which circles all. Well know I the way; therefore be reassured.
This fen, which a prodigious stench exhales, Encompasses about the city dolent, Where now we cannot enter without anger."
And more he said, but not in mind I have it; Because mine eye had altogether drawn me Tow'rds the high tower with the red-flaming summit,
Where in a moment saw I swift uprisen The three infernal Furies stained with blood, Who had the limbs of women and their mien,
And with the greenest hydras were begirt; Small serpents and cerastes were their tresses, Wherewith their horrid temples were entwined.
And he who well the handmaids of the Queen Of everlasting lamentation knew, Said unto me: "Behold the fierce Erinnys.
This is Megaera, on the left-hand side; She who is weeping on the right, Alecto; Tisiphone is between;" and then was silent.
Each one her breast was rending with her nails; They beat them with their palms, and cried so loud, That I for dread pressed close unto the Poet.
"Medusa come, so we to stone will change him!" All shouted looking down; "in evil hour Avenged we not on Theseus his assault!"
"Turn thyself round, and keep thine eyes close shut, For if the Gorgon appear, and thou shouldst see it, No more returning upward would there be."
Thus said the Master; and he turned me round Himself, and trusted not unto my hands So far as not to blind me with his own.
O ye who have undistempered intellects, Observe the doctrine that conceals itself Beneath the veil of the mysterious verses!
And now there came across the turbid waves The clangour of a sound with terror fraught, Because of which both of the margins trembled;
Not otherwise it was than of a wind Impetuous on account of adverse heats, That smites the forest, and, without restraint,
The branches rends, beats down, and bears away; Right onward, laden with dust, it goes superb, And puts to flight the wild beasts and the shepherds.
Mine eyes he loosed, and said: "Direct the nerve Of vision now along that ancient foam, There yonder where that smoke is most intense."
Even as the frogs before the hostile serpent Across the water scatter all abroad, Until each one is huddled in the earth.
More than a thousand ruined souls I saw, Thus fleeing from before one who on foot Was passing o'er the Styx with soles unwet.
From off his face he fanned that unctuous air, Waving his left hand oft in front of him, And only with that anguish seemed he weary.
Well I perceived one sent from Heaven was he, And to the Master turned; and he made sign That I should quiet stand, and bow before him.
Ah! how disdainful he appeared to me! He reached the gate, and with a little rod He opened it, for there was no resistance.
"O banished out of Heaven, people despised!" Thus he began upon the horrid threshold; "Whence is this arrogance within you couched?
Wherefore recalcitrate against that will, From which the end can never be cut off, And which has many times increased your pain?
What helpeth it to butt against the fates? Your Cerberus, if you remember well, For that still bears his chin and gullet peeled."
Then he returned along the miry road, And spake no word to us, but had the look Of one whom other care constrains and goads
Than that of him who in his presence is; And we our feet directed tow'rds the city, After those holy words all confident.
Within we entered without any contest; And I, who inclination had to see What the condition such a fortress holds,
Soon as I was within, cast round mine eye, And see on every hand an ample plain, Full of distress and torment terrible.
Even as at Arles, where stagnant grows the Rhone, Even as at Pola near to the Quarnaro, That shuts in Italy and bathes its borders,
The sepulchres make all the place uneven; So likewise did they there on every side, Saving that there the manner was more bitter;
For flames between the sepulchres were scattered, By which they so intensely heated were, That iron more so asks not any art.
All of their coverings uplifted were, And from them issued forth such dire laments, Sooth seemed they of the wretched and tormented.
And I: "My Master, what are all those people Who, having sepulture within those tombs, Make themselves audible by doleful sighs?"
And he to me: "Here are the Heresiarchs, With their disciples of all sects, and much More than thou thinkest laden are the tombs.
Here like together with its like is buried; And more and less the monuments are heated." And when he to the right had turned, we passed
Between the torments and high parapets.
Inferno: Canto X
Now onward goes, along a narrow path Between the torments and the city wall, My Master, and I follow at his back.
"O power supreme, that through these impious circles Turnest me," I began, "as pleases thee, Speak to me, and my longings satisfy;
The people who are lying in these tombs, Might they be seen? already are uplifted The covers all, and no one keepeth guard."
And he to me: "They all will be closed up When from Jehoshaphat they shall return Here with the bodies they have left above.
Their cemetery have upon this side With Epicurus all his followers, Who with the body mortal make the soul;
But in the question thou dost put to me, Within here shalt thou soon be satisfied, And likewise in the wish thou keepest silent."
And I: "Good Leader, I but keep concealed From thee my heart, that I may speak the less, Nor only now hast thou thereto disposed me."
"O Tuscan, thou who through the city of fire Goest alive, thus speaking modestly, Be pleased to stay thy footsteps in this place.
Thy mode of speaking makes thee manifest A native of that noble fatherland, To which perhaps I too molestful was."
Upon a sudden issued forth this sound From out one of the tombs; wherefore I pressed, Fearing, a little nearer to my Leader.
And unto me he said: "Turn thee; what dost thou? Behold there Farinata who has risen; From the waist upwards wholly shalt thou see him."
I had already fixed mine eyes on his, And he uprose erect with breast and front E'en as if Hell he had in great despite.
And with courageous hands and prompt my Leader Thrust me between the sepulchres towards him, Exclaiming, "Let thy words explicit be."
As soon as I was at the foot of his tomb Somewhat he eyed me, and, as if disdainful, Then asked of me, "Who were thine ancestors?"
I, who desirous of obeying was, Concealed it not, but all revealed to him; Whereat he raised his brows a little upward.
Then said he: "Fiercely adverse have they been To me, and to my fathers, and my party; So that two several times I scattered them."
"If they were banished, they returned on all sides," I answered him, "the first time and the second; But yours have not acquired that art aright."
Then there uprose upon the sight, uncovered Down to the chin, a shadow at his side; I think that he had risen on his knees.
Round me he gazed, as if solicitude He had to see if some one else were with me, But after his suspicion was all spent,
Weeping, he said to me: "If through this blind Prison thou goest by loftiness of genius, Where is my son? and why is he not with thee?"
And I to him: "I come not of myself; He who is waiting yonder leads me here, Whom in disdain perhaps your Guido had."
His language and the mode of punishment Already unto me had read his name; On that account my answer was so full.
Up starting suddenly, he cried out: "How Saidst thou,--he had? Is he not still alive? Does not the sweet light strike upon his eyes?"
When he became aware of some delay, Which I before my answer made, supine He fell again, and forth appeared no more.
But the other, magnanimous, at whose desire I had remained, did not his aspect change, Neither his neck he moved, nor bent his side.
"And if," continuing his first discourse, "They have that art," he said, "not learned aright, That more tormenteth me, than doth this bed.
But fifty times shall not rekindled be The countenance of the Lady who reigns here, Ere thou shalt know how heavy is that art;
And as thou wouldst to the sweet world return, Say why that people is so pitiless Against my race in each one of its laws?"
Whence I to him: "The slaughter and great carnage Which have with crimson stained the Arbia, cause Such orisons in our temple to be made."
After his head he with a sigh had shaken, "There I was not alone," he said, "nor surely Without a cause had with the others moved.
But there I was alone, where every one Consented to the laying waste of Florence, He who defended her with open face."
"Ah! so hereafter may your seed repose," I him entreated, "solve for me that knot, Which has entangled my conceptions here.
It seems that you can see, if I hear rightly, Beforehand whatsoe'er time brings with it, And in the present have another mode."
"We see, like those who have imperfect sight, The things," he said, "that distant are from us; So much still shines on us the Sovereign Ruler.
When they draw near, or are, is wholly vain Our intellect, and if none brings it to us, Not anything know we of your human state.
Hence thou canst understand, that wholly dead Will be our knowledge from the moment when The portal of the future shall be closed."
Then I, as if compunctious for my fault, Said: "Now, then, you will tell that fallen one, That still his son is with the living joined.
And if just now, in answering, I was dumb, Tell him I did it because I was thinking Already of the error you have solved me."
And now my Master was recalling me, Wherefore more eagerly I prayed the spirit That he would tell me who was with him there.
He said: "With more than a thousand here I lie; Within here is the second Frederick, And the Cardinal, and of the rest I speak not."
Thereon he hid himself; and I towards The ancient poet turned my steps, reflecting Upon that saying, which seemed hostile to me.
He moved along; and afterward thus going, He said to me, "Why art thou so bewildered?" And I in his inquiry satisfied him.
"Let memory preserve what thou hast heard Against thyself," that Sage commanded me, "And now attend here;" and he raised his finger.
"When thou shalt be before the radiance sweet Of her whose beauteous eyes all things behold, From her thou'lt know the journey of thy life."
Unto the left hand then he turned his feet; We left the wall, and went towards the middle, Along a path that strikes into a valley,
Which even up there unpleasant made its stench.
Inferno: Canto XI
Upon the margin of a lofty bank Which great rocks broken in a circle made, We came upon a still more cruel throng;
And there, by reason of the horrible Excess of stench the deep abyss throws out, We drew ourselves aside behind the cover
Of a great tomb, whereon I saw a writing, Which said: "Pope Anastasius I hold, Whom out of the right way Photinus drew."
"Slow it behoveth our descent to be, So that the sense be first a little used To the sad blast, and then we shall not heed it."
The Master thus; and unto him I said, "Some compensation find, that the time pass not Idly;" and he: "Thou seest I think of that.
My son, upon the inside of these rocks," Began he then to say, "are three small circles, From grade to grade, like those which thou art leaving.
They all are full of spirits maledict; But that hereafter sight alone suffice thee, Hear how and wherefore they are in constraint.
Of every malice that wins hate in Heaven, Injury is the end; and all such end Either by force or fraud afflicteth others.
But because fraud is man's peculiar vice, More it displeases God; and so stand lowest The fraudulent, and greater dole assails them.
All the first circle of the Violent is; But since force may be used against three persons, In three rounds 'tis divided and constructed.
To God, to ourselves, and to our neighbour can we Use force; I say on them and on their things, As thou shalt hear with reason manifest.
A death by violence, and painful wounds, Are to our neighbour given; and in his substance Ruin, and arson, and injurious levies;
Whence homicides, and he who smites unjustly, Marauders, and freebooters, the first round Tormenteth all in companies diverse.
Man may lay violent hands upon himself And his own goods; and therefore in the second Round must perforce without avail repent
Whoever of your world deprives himself, Who games, and dissipates his property, And weepeth there, where he should jocund be.
Violence can be done the Deity, In heart denying and blaspheming Him, And by disdaining Nature and her bounty.
And for this reason doth the smallest round Seal with its signet Sodom and Cahors, And who, disdaining God, speaks from the heart.
Fraud, wherewithal is every conscience stung, A man may practise upon him who trusts, And him who doth no confidence imburse.
This latter mode, it would appear, dissevers Only the bond of love which Nature makes; Wherefore within the second circle nestle
Hypocrisy, flattery, and who deals in magic, Falsification, theft, and simony, Panders, and barrators, and the like filth.
By the other mode, forgotten is that love Which Nature makes, and what is after added, From which there is a special faith engendered.
Hence in the smallest circle, where the point is Of the Universe, upon which Dis is seated, Whoe'er betrays for ever is consumed."
And I: "My Master, clear enough proceeds Thy reasoning, and full well distinguishes This cavern and the people who possess it.
But tell me, those within the fat lagoon, Whom the wind drives, and whom the rain doth beat, And who encounter with such bitter tongues,
Wherefore are they inside of the red city Not punished, if God has them in his wrath, And if he has not, wherefore in such fashion?"
And unto me he said: "Why wanders so Thine intellect from that which it is wont? Or, sooth, thy mind where is it elsewhere looking?
Hast thou no recollection of those words With which thine Ethics thoroughly discusses The dispositions three, that Heaven abides not,--
Incontinence, and Malice, and insane Bestiality? and how Incontinence Less God offendeth, and less blame attracts?
If thou regardest this conclusion well, And to thy mind recallest who they are That up outside are undergoing penance,
Clearly wilt thou perceive why from these felons They separated are, and why less wroth Justice divine doth smite them with its hammer."
"O Sun, that healest all distempered vision, Thou dost content me so, when thou resolvest, That doubting pleases me no less than knowing!
Once more a little backward turn thee," said I, "There where thou sayest that usury offends Goodness divine, and disengage the knot."
"Philosophy," he said, "to him who heeds it, Noteth, not only in one place alone, After what manner Nature takes her course
From Intellect Divine, and from its art; And if thy Physics carefully thou notest, After not many pages shalt thou find,
That this your art as far as possible Follows, as the disciple doth the master; So that your art is, as it were, God's grandchild.
From these two, if thou bringest to thy mind Genesis at the beginning, it behoves Mankind to gain their life and to advance;
And since the usurer takes another way, Nature herself and in her follower Disdains he, for elsewhere he puts his hope.
But follow, now, as I would fain go on, For quivering are the Fishes on the horizon, And the Wain wholly over Caurus lies,
And far beyond there we descend the crag."
Inferno: Canto XII
The place where to descend the bank we came Was alpine, and from what was there, moreover, Of such a kind that every eye would shun it.
Such as that ruin is which in the flank Smote, on this side of Trent, the Adige, Either by earthquake or by failing stay,
For from the mountain's top, from which it moved, Unto the plain the cliff is shattered so, Some path 'twould give to him who was above;
Even such was the descent of that ravine, And on the border of the broken chasm The infamy of Crete was stretched along,
Who was conceived in the fictitious cow; And when he us beheld, he bit himself, Even as one whom anger racks within.
My Sage towards him shouted: "Peradventure Thou think'st that here may be the Duke of Athens, Who in the world above brought death to thee?
Get thee gone, beast, for this one cometh not Instructed by thy sister, but he comes In order to behold your punishments."
As is that bull who breaks loose at the moment In which he has received the mortal blow, Who cannot walk, but staggers here and there,
The Minotaur beheld I do the like; And he, the wary, cried: "Run to the passage; While he wroth, 'tis well thou shouldst descend."
Thus down we took our way o'er that discharge Of stones, which oftentimes did move themselves Beneath my feet, from the unwonted burden.
Thoughtful I went; and he said: "Thou art thinking Perhaps upon this ruin, which is guarded By that brute anger which just now I quenched.
Now will I have thee know, the other time I here descended to the nether Hell, This precipice had not yet fallen down.
But truly, if I well discern, a little Before His coming who the mighty spoil Bore off from Dis, in the supernal circle,
Upon all sides the deep and loathsome valley Trembled so, that I thought the Universe Was thrilled with love, by which there are who think
The world ofttimes converted into chaos; And at that moment this primeval crag Both here and elsewhere made such overthrow.
But fix thine eyes below; for draweth near The river of blood, within which boiling is Whoe'er by violence doth injure others."
O blind cupidity, O wrath insane, That spurs us onward so in our short life, And in the eternal then so badly steeps us!
I saw an ample moat bent like a bow, As one which all the plain encompasses, Conformable to what my Guide had said.
And between this and the embankment's foot Centaurs in file were running, armed with arrows, As in the world they used the chase to follow.
Beholding us descend, each one stood still, And from the squadron three detached themselves, With bows and arrows in advance selected;
And from afar one cried: "Unto what torment Come ye, who down the hillside are descending? Tell us from there; if not, I draw the bow."
My Master said: "Our answer will we make To Chiron, near you there; in evil hour, That will of thine was evermore so hasty."
Then touched he me, and said: "This one is Nessus, Who perished for the lovely Dejanira, And for himself, himself did vengeance take.
And he in the midst, who at his breast is gazing, Is the great Chiron, who brought up Achilles; That other Pholus is, who was so wrathful.
Thousands and thousands go about the moat Shooting with shafts whatever soul emerges Out of the blood, more than his crime allots."
Near we approached unto those monsters fleet; Chiron an arrow took, and with the notch Backward upon his jaws he put his beard.
After he had uncovered his great mouth, He said to his companions: "Are you ware That he behind moveth whate'er he touches?
Thus are not wont to do the feet of dead men." And my good Guide, who now was at his breast, Where the two natures are together joined,
Replied: "Indeed he lives, and thus alone Me it behoves to show him the dark valley; Necessity, and not delight, impels us.
Some one withdrew from singing Halleluja, Who unto me committed this new office; No thief is he, nor I a thievish spirit.
But by that virtue through which I am moving My steps along this savage thoroughfare, Give us some one of thine, to be with us,
And who may show us where to pass the ford, And who may carry this one on his back; For 'tis no spirit that can walk the air."
Upon his right breast Chiron wheeled about, And said to Nessus: "Turn and do thou guide them, And warn aside, if other band may meet you."
We with our faithful escort onward moved Along the brink of the vermilion boiling, Wherein the boiled were uttering loud laments.
People I saw within up to the eyebrows, And the great Centaur said: "Tyrants are these, Who dealt in bloodshed and in pillaging.
Here they lament their pitiless mischiefs; here Is Alexander, and fierce Dionysius Who upon Sicily brought dolorous years.
That forehead there which has the hair so black Is Azzolin; and the other who is blond, Obizzo is of Esti, who, in truth,
Up in the world was by his stepson slain." Then turned I to the Poet; and he said, "Now he be first to thee, and second I."
A little farther on the Centaur stopped Above a folk, who far down as the throat Seemed from that boiling stream to issue forth.
A shade he showed us on one side alone, Saying: "He cleft asunder in God's bosom The heart that still upon the Thames is honoured."
Then people saw I, who from out the river Lifted their heads and also all the chest; And many among these I recognised.
Thus ever more and more grew shallower That blood, so that the feet alone it covered; And there across the moat our passage was.
"Even as thou here upon this side beholdest The boiling stream, that aye diminishes," The Centaur said, "I wish thee to believe
That on this other more and more declines Its bed, until it reunites itself Where it behoveth tyranny to groan.
Justice divine, upon this side, is goading That Attila, who was a scourge on earth, And Pyrrhus, and Sextus; and for ever milks
The tears which with the boiling it unseals In Rinier da Corneto and Rinier Pazzo, Who made upon the highways so much war."
Then back he turned, and passed again the ford.
Inferno: Canto XIII
Not yet had Nessus reached the other side, When we had put ourselves within a wood, That was not marked by any path whatever.
Not foliage green, but of a dusky colour, Not branches smooth, but gnarled and intertangled, Not apple-trees were there, but thorns with poison.
Such tangled thickets have not, nor so dense, Those savage wild beasts, that in hatred hold 'Twixt Cecina and Corneto the tilled places.
There do the hideous Harpies make their nests, Who chased the Trojans from the Strophades, With sad announcement of impending doom;
Broad wings have they, and necks and faces human, And feet with claws, and their great bellies fledged; They make laments upon the wondrous trees.
And the good Master: "Ere thou enter farther, Know that thou art within the second round," Thus he began to say, "and shalt be, till
Thou comest out upon the horrible sand; Therefore look well around, and thou shalt see Things that will credence give unto my speech."
I heard on all sides lamentations uttered, And person none beheld I who might make them, Whence, utterly bewildered, I stood still.
I think he thought that I perhaps might think So many voices issued through those trunks From people who concealed themselves from us;
Therefore the Master said: "If thou break off Some little spray from any of these trees, The thoughts thou hast will wholly be made vain."
Then stretched I forth my hand a little forward, And plucked a branchlet off from a great thorn; And the trunk cried, "Why dost thou mangle me?"
After it had become embrowned with blood, It recommenced its cry: "Why dost thou rend me? Hast thou no spirit of pity whatsoever?
Men once we were, and now are changed to trees; Indeed, thy hand should be more pitiful, Even if the souls of serpents we had been."
As out of a green brand, that is on fire At one of the ends, and from the other drips And hisses with the wind that is escaping;
So from that splinter issued forth together Both words and blood; whereat I let the tip Fall, and stood like a man who is afraid.
"Had he been able sooner to believe," My Sage made answer, "O thou wounded soul, What only in my verses he has seen,
Not upon thee had he stretched forth his hand; Whereas the thing incredible has caused me To put him to an act which grieveth me.
But tell him who thou wast, so that by way Of some amends thy fame he may refresh Up in the world, to which he can return."
And the trunk said: "So thy sweet words allure me, I cannot silent be; and you be vexed not, That I a little to discourse am tempted.
I am the one who both keys had in keeping Of Frederick's heart, and turned them to and fro So softly in unlocking and in locking,
That from his secrets most men I withheld; Fidelity I bore the glorious office So great, I lost thereby my sleep and pulses.
The courtesan who never from the dwelling Of Caesar turned aside her strumpet eyes, Death universal and the vice of courts,
Inflamed against me all the other minds, And they, inflamed, did so inflame Augustus, That my glad honours turned to dismal mournings.
My spirit, in disdainful exultation, Thinking by dying to escape disdain, Made me unjust against myself, the just.
I, by the roots unwonted of this wood, Do swear to you that never broke I faith Unto my lord, who was so worthy of honour;
And to the world if one of you return, Let him my memory comfort, which is lying Still prostrate from the blow that envy dealt it."
Waited awhile, and then: "Since he is silent," The Poet said to me, "lose not the time, But speak, and question him, if more may please thee."
Whence I to him: "Do thou again inquire Concerning what thou thinks't will satisfy me; For I cannot, such pity is in my heart."
Therefore he recommenced: "So may the man Do for thee freely what thy speech implores, Spirit incarcerate, again be pleased
To tell us in what way the soul is bound Within these knots; and tell us, if thou canst, If any from such members e'er is freed."
Then blew the trunk amain, and afterward The wind was into such a voice converted: "With brevity shall be replied to you.
When the exasperated soul abandons The body whence it rent itself away, Minos consigns it to the seventh abyss.
It falls into the forest, and no part Is chosen for it; but where Fortune hurls it, There like a grain of spelt it germinates.
It springs a sapling, and a forest tree; The Harpies, feeding then upon its leaves, Do pain create, and for the pain an outlet.
Like others for our spoils shall we return; But not that any one may them revest, For 'tis not just to have what one casts off.
Here we shall drag them, and along the dismal Forest our bodies shall suspended be, Each to the thorn of his molested shade."
We were attentive still unto the trunk, Thinking that more it yet might wish to tell us, When by a tumult we were overtaken,
In the same way as he is who perceives The boar and chase approaching to his stand, Who hears the crashing of the beasts and branches;
And two behold! upon our left-hand side, Naked and scratched, fleeing so furiously, That of the forest, every fan they broke.
He who was in advance: "Now help, Death, help!" And the other one, who seemed to lag too much, Was shouting: "Lano, were not so alert
Those legs of thine at joustings of the Toppo!" And then, perchance because his breath was failing, He grouped himself together with a bush.
Behind them was the forest full of black She-mastiffs, ravenous, and swift of foot As greyhounds, who are issuing from the chain.
On him who had crouched down they set their teeth, And him they lacerated piece by piece, Thereafter bore away those aching members.
Thereat my Escort took me by the hand, And led me to the bush, that all in vain Was weeping from its bloody lacerations.
"O Jacopo," it said, "of Sant' Andrea, What helped it thee of me to make a screen? What blame have I in thy nefarious life?"
When near him had the Master stayed his steps, He said: "Who wast thou, that through wounds so many Art blowing out with blood thy dolorous speech?"
And he to us: "O souls, that hither come To look upon the shameful massacre That has so rent away from me my leaves,
Gather them up beneath the dismal bush; I of that city was which to the Baptist Changed its first patron, wherefore he for this
Forever with his art will make it sad. And were it not that on the pass of Arno Some glimpses of him are remaining still,
Those citizens, who afterwards rebuilt it Upon the ashes left by Attila, In vain had caused their labour to be done.
Of my own house I made myself a gibbet."
Inferno: Canto XIV
Because the charity of my native place Constrained me, gathered I the scattered leaves, And gave them back to him, who now was hoarse.
Then came we to the confine, where disparted The second round is from the third, and where A horrible form of Justice is beheld.
Clearly to manifest these novel things, I say that we arrived upon a plain, Which from its bed rejecteth every plant;
The dolorous forest is a garland to it All round about, as the sad moat to that; There close upon the edge we stayed our feet.
The soil was of an arid and thick sand, Not of another fashion made than that Which by the feet of Cato once was pressed.
Vengeance of God, O how much oughtest thou By each one to be dreaded, who doth read That which was manifest unto mine eyes!
Of naked souls beheld I many herds, Who all were weeping very miserably, And over them seemed set a law diverse.
Supine upon the ground some folk were lying; And some were sitting all drawn up together, And others went about continually.
Those who were going round were far the more, And those were less who lay down to their torment, But had their tongues more loosed to lamentation.
O'er all the sand-waste, with a gradual fall, Were raining down dilated flakes of fire, As of the snow on Alp without a wind.
As Alexander, in those torrid parts Of India, beheld upon his host Flames fall unbroken till they reached the ground.
Whence he provided with his phalanxes To trample down the soil, because the vapour Better extinguished was while it was single;
Thus was descending the eternal heat, Whereby the sand was set on fire, like tinder Beneath the steel, for doubling of the dole.
Without repose forever was the dance Of miserable hands, now there, now here, Shaking away from off them the fresh gleeds.
"Master," began I, "thou who overcomest All things except the demons dire, that issued Against us at the entrance of the gate,
Who is that mighty one who seems to heed not The fire, and lieth lowering and disdainful, So that the rain seems not to ripen him?"
And he himself, who had become aware That I was questioning my Guide about him, Cried: "Such as I was living, am I, dead.
If Jove should weary out his smith, from whom He seized in anger the sharp thunderbolt, Wherewith upon the last day I was smitten,
And if he wearied out by turns the others In Mongibello at the swarthy forge, Vociferating, 'Help, good Vulcan, help!'
Even as he did there at the fight of Phlegra, And shot his bolts at me with all his might, He would not have thereby a joyous vengeance."
Then did my Leader speak with such great force, That I had never heard him speak so loud: "O Capaneus, in that is not extinguished
Thine arrogance, thou punished art the more; Not any torment, saving thine own rage, Would be unto thy fury pain complete."
Then he turned round to me with better lip, Saying: "One of the Seven Kings was he Who Thebes besieged, and held, and seems to hold
God in disdain, and little seems to prize him; But, as I said to him, his own despites Are for his breast the fittest ornaments.
Now follow me, and mind thou do not place As yet thy feet upon the burning sand, But always keep them close unto the wood."
Speaking no word, we came to where there gushes Forth from the wood a little rivulet, Whose redness makes my hair still stand on end.
As from the Bulicame springs the brooklet, The sinful women later share among them, So downward through the sand it went its way.
The bottom of it, and both sloping banks, Were made of stone, and the margins at the side; Whence I perceived that there the passage was.
"In all the rest which I have shown to thee Since we have entered in within the gate Whose threshold unto no one is denied,
Nothing has been discovered by thine eyes So notable as is the present river, Which all the little flames above it quenches."
These words were of my Leader; whence I prayed him That he would give me largess of the food, For which he had given me largess of desire.
"In the mid-sea there sits a wasted land," Said he thereafterward, "whose name is Crete, Under whose king the world of old was chaste.
There is a mountain there, that once was glad With waters and with leaves, which was called Ida; Now 'tis deserted, as a thing worn out.
Rhea once chose it for the faithful cradle Of her own son; and to conceal him better, Whene'er he cried, she there had clamours made.
A grand old man stands in the mount erect, Who holds his shoulders turned tow'rds Damietta, And looks at Rome as if it were his mirror.
His head is fashioned of refined gold, And of pure silver are the arms and breast; Then he is brass as far down as the fork.
From that point downward all is chosen iron, Save that the right foot is of kiln-baked clay, And more he stands on that than on the other.
Each part, except the gold, is by a fissure Asunder cleft, that dripping is with tears, Which gathered together perforate that cavern.
From rock to rock they fall into this valley; Acheron, Styx, and Phlegethon they form; Then downward go along this narrow sluice
Unto that point where is no more descending. They form Cocytus; what that pool may be Thou shalt behold, so here 'tis not narrated."
And I to him: "If so the present runnel Doth take its rise in this way from our world, Why only on this verge appears it to us?"
And he to me: "Thou knowest the place is round, And notwithstanding thou hast journeyed far, Still to the left descending to the bottom,
Thou hast not yet through all the circle turned. Therefore if something new appear to us, It should not bring amazement to thy face."
And I again: "Master, where shall be found Lethe and Phlegethon, for of one thou'rt silent, And sayest the other of this rain is made?"
"In all thy questions truly thou dost please me," Replied he; "but the boiling of the red Water might well solve one of them thou makest.
Thou shalt see Lethe, but outside this moat, There where the souls repair to lave themselves, When sin repented of has been removed."
Then said he: "It is time now to abandon The wood; take heed that thou come after me; A way the margins make that are not burning,
And over them all vapours are extinguished."
Inferno: Canto XV
Now bears us onward one of the hard margins, And so the brooklet's mist o'ershadows it, From fire it saves the water and the dikes.
Even as the Flemings, 'twixt Cadsand and Bruges, Fearing the flood that tow'rds them hurls itself, Their bulwarks build to put the sea to flight;
And as the Paduans along the Brenta, To guard their villas and their villages, Or ever Chiarentana feel the heat;
In such similitude had those been made, Albeit not so lofty nor so thick, Whoever he might be, the master made them.
Now were we from the forest so remote, I could not have discovered where it was, Even if backward I had turned myself,
When we a company of souls encountered, Who came beside the dike, and every one Gazed at us, as at evening we are wont
To eye each other under a new moon, And so towards us sharpened they their brows As an old tailor at the needle's eye.
Thus scrutinised by such a family, By some one I was recognised, who seized My garment's hem, and cried out, "What a marvel!"
And I, when he stretched forth his arm to me, On his baked aspect fastened so mine eyes, That the scorched countenance prevented not
His recognition by my intellect; And bowing down my face unto his own, I made reply, "Are you here, Ser Brunetto?"
And he: "May't not displease thee, O my son, If a brief space with thee Brunetto Latini Backward return and let the trail go on."
I said to him: "With all my power I ask it; And if you wish me to sit down with you, I will, if he please, for I go with him."
"O son," he said, "whoever of this herd A moment stops, lies then a hundred years, Nor fans himself when smiteth him the fire.
Therefore go on; I at thy skirts will come, And afterward will I rejoin my band, Which goes lamenting its eternal doom."
I did not dare to go down from the road Level to walk with him; but my head bowed I held as one who goeth reverently.
And he began: "What fortune or what fate Before the last day leadeth thee down here? And who is this that showeth thee the way?"
"Up there above us in the life serene," I answered him, "I lost me in a valley, Or ever yet my age had been completed.
But yestermorn I turned my back upon it; This one appeared to me, returning thither, And homeward leadeth me along this road."
And he to me: "If thou thy star do follow, Thou canst not fail thee of a glorious port, If well I judged in the life beautiful.
And if I had not died so prematurely, Seeing Heaven thus benignant unto thee, I would have given thee comfort in the work.
But that ungrateful and malignant people, Which of old time from Fesole descended, And smacks still of the mountain and the granite,
Will make itself, for thy good deeds, thy foe; And it is right; for among crabbed sorbs It ill befits the sweet fig to bear fruit.
Old rumour in the world proclaims them blind; A people avaricious, envious, proud; Take heed that of their customs thou do cleanse thee.
Thy fortune so much honour doth reserve thee, One party and the other shall be hungry For thee; but far from goat shall be the grass.
Their litter let the beasts of Fesole Make of themselves, nor let them touch the plant, If any still upon their dunghill rise,
In which may yet revive the consecrated Seed of those Romans, who remained there when The nest of such great malice it became."
"If my entreaty wholly were fulfilled," Replied I to him, "not yet would you be In banishment from human nature placed;
For in my mind is fixed, and touches now My heart the dear and good paternal image Of you, when in the world from hour to hour
You taught me how a man becomes eternal; And how much I am grateful, while I live Behoves that in my language be discerned.
What you narrate of my career I write, And keep it to be glossed with other text By a Lady who can do it, if I reach her.
This much will I have manifest to you; Provided that my conscience do not chide me, For whatsoever Fortune I am ready.
Such handsel is not new unto mine ears; Therefore let Fortune turn her wheel around As it may please her, and the churl his mattock."
My Master thereupon on his right cheek Did backward turn himself, and looked at me; Then said: "He listeneth well who noteth it."
Nor speaking less on that account, I go With Ser Brunetto, and I ask who are His most known and most eminent companions.
And he to me: "To know of some is well; Of others it were laudable to be silent, For short would be the time for so much speech.
Know them in sum, that all of them were clerks, And men of letters great and of great fame, In the world tainted with the selfsame sin.
Priscian goes yonder with that wretched crowd, And Francis of Accorso; and thou hadst seen there If thou hadst had a hankering for such scurf,
That one, who by the Servant of the Servants From Arno was transferred to Bacchiglione, Where he has left his sin-excited nerves.
More would I say, but coming and discoursing Can be no longer; for that I behold New smoke uprising yonder from the sand.
A people comes with whom I may not be; Commended unto thee be my Tesoro, In which I still live, and no more I ask."
Then he turned round, and seemed to be of those Who at Verona run for the Green Mantle Across the plain; and seemed to be among them
The one who wins, and not the one who loses.
Inferno: Canto XVI
Now was I where was heard the reverberation Of water falling into the next round, Like to that humming which the beehives make,
When shadows three together started forth, Running, from out a company that passed Beneath the rain of the sharp martyrdom.
Towards us came they, and each one cried out: "Stop, thou; for by thy garb to us thou seemest To be some one of our depraved city."
Ah me! what wounds I saw upon their limbs, Recent and ancient by the flames burnt in! It pains me still but to remember it.
Unto their cries my Teacher paused attentive; He turned his face towards me, and "Now wait," He said; "to these we should be courteous.
And if it were not for the fire that darts The nature of this region, I should say That haste were more becoming thee than them."
As soon as we stood still, they recommenced The old refrain, and when they overtook us, Formed of themselves a wheel, all three of them.
As champions stripped and oiled are wont to do, Watching for their advantage and their hold, Before they come to blows and thrusts between them,
Thus, wheeling round, did every one his visage Direct to me, so that in opposite wise His neck and feet continual journey made.
And, "If the misery of this soft place Bring in disdain ourselves and our entreaties," Began one, "and our aspect black and blistered,
Let the renown of us thy mind incline To tell us who thou art, who thus securely Thy living feet dost move along through Hell.
He in whose footprints thou dost see me treading, Naked and skinless though he now may go, Was of a greater rank than thou dost think;
He was the grandson of the good Gualdrada; His name was Guidoguerra, and in life Much did he with his wisdom and his sword.
The other, who close by me treads the sand, Tegghiaio Aldobrandi is, whose fame Above there in the world should welcome be.
And I, who with them on the cross am placed, Jacopo Rusticucci was; and truly My savage wife, more than aught else, doth harm me."
Could I have been protected from the fire, Below I should have thrown myself among them, And think the Teacher would have suffered it;
But as I should have burned and baked myself, My terror overmastered my good will, Which made me greedy of embracing them.
Then I began: "Sorrow and not disdain Did your condition fix within me so, That tardily it wholly is stripped off,
As soon as this my Lord said unto me Words, on account of which I thought within me That people such as you are were approaching.
I of your city am; and evermore Your labours and your honourable names I with affection have retraced and heard.
I leave the gall, and go for the sweet fruits Promised to me by the veracious Leader; But to the centre first I needs must plunge."
"So may the soul for a long while conduct Those limbs of thine," did he make answer then, "And so may thy renown shine after thee,
Valour and courtesy, say if they dwell Within our city, as they used to do, Or if they wholly have gone out of it;
For Guglielmo Borsier, who is in torment With us of late, and goes there with his comrades, Doth greatly mortify us with his words."
"The new inhabitants and the sudden gains, Pride and extravagance have in thee engendered, Florence, so that thou weep'st thereat already!"
In this wise I exclaimed with face uplifted; And the three, taking that for my reply, Looked at each other, as one looks at truth.
"If other times so little it doth cost thee," Replied they all, "to satisfy another, Happy art thou, thus speaking at thy will!
Therefore, if thou escape from these dark places, And come to rebehold the beauteous stars, When it shall pleasure thee to say, 'I was,'
See that thou speak of us unto the people." Then they broke up the wheel, and in their flight It seemed as if their agile legs were wings.
Not an Amen could possibly be said So rapidly as they had disappeared; Wherefore the Master deemed best to depart.
I followed him, and little had we gone, Before the sound of water was so near us, That speaking we should hardly have been heard.
Even as that stream which holdeth its own course The first from Monte Veso tow'rds the East, Upon the left-hand slope of Apennine,
Which is above called Acquacheta, ere It down descendeth into its low bed, And at Forli is vacant of that name,
Reverberates there above San Benedetto From Alps, by falling at a single leap, Where for a thousand there were room enough;
Thus downward from a bank precipitate, We found resounding that dark-tinted water, So that it soon the ear would have offended.
I had a cord around about me girt, And therewithal I whilom had designed To take the panther with the painted skin.
After I this had all from me unloosed, As my Conductor had commanded me, I reached it to him, gathered up and coiled,
Whereat he turned himself to the right side, And at a little distance from the verge, He cast it down into that deep abyss.
"It must needs be some novelty respond," I said within myself, "to the new signal The Master with his eye is following so."
Ah me! how very cautious men should be With those who not alone behold the act, But with their wisdom look into the thoughts!
He said to me: "Soon there will upward come What I await; and what thy thought is dreaming Must soon reveal itself unto thy sight."
Aye to that truth which has the face of falsehood, A man should close his lips as far as may be, Because without his fault it causes shame;
But here I cannot; and, Reader, by the notes Of this my Comedy to thee I swear, So may they not be void of lasting favour,
Athwart that dense and darksome atmosphere I saw a figure swimming upward come, Marvellous unto every steadfast heart,
Even as he returns who goeth down Sometimes to clear an anchor, which has grappled Reef, or aught else that in the sea is hidden,
Who upward stretches, and draws in his feet.
Inferno: Canto XVII
"Behold the monster with the pointed tail, Who cleaves the hills, and breaketh walls and weapons, Behold him who infecteth all the world."
Thus unto me my Guide began to say, And beckoned him that he should come to shore, Near to the confine of the trodden marble;
And that uncleanly image of deceit Came up and thrust ashore its head and bust, But on the border did not drag its tail.
The face was as the face of a just man, Its semblance outwardly was so benign, And of a serpent all the trunk beside.
Two paws it had, hairy unto the armpits; The back, and breast, and both the sides it had Depicted o'er with nooses and with shields.
With colours more, groundwork or broidery Never in cloth did Tartars make nor Turks, Nor were such tissues by Arachne laid.
As sometimes wherries lie upon the shore, That part are in the water, part on land; And as among the guzzling Germans there,
The beaver plants himself to wage his war; So that vile monster lay upon the border, Which is of stone, and shutteth in the sand.
His tail was wholly quivering in the void, Contorting upwards the envenomed fork, That in the guise of scorpion armed its point.
The Guide said: "Now perforce must turn aside Our way a little, even to that beast Malevolent, that yonder coucheth him."
We therefore on the right side descended, And made ten steps upon the outer verge, Completely to avoid the sand and flame;
And after we are come to him, I see A little farther off upon the sand A people sitting near the hollow place.
Then said to me the Master: "So that full Experience of this round thou bear away, Now go and see what their condition is.
There let thy conversation be concise; Till thou returnest I will speak with him, That he concede to us his stalwart shoulders."
Thus farther still upon the outermost Head of that seventh circle all alone I went, where sat the melancholy folk.
Out of their eyes was gushing forth their woe; This way, that way, they helped them with their hands Now from the flames and now from the hot soil.
Not otherwise in summer do the dogs, Now with the foot, now with the muzzle, when By fleas, or flies, or gadflies, they are bitten.
When I had turned mine eyes upon the faces Of some, on whom the dolorous fire is falling, Not one of them I knew; but I perceived
That from the neck of each there hung a pouch, Which certain colour had, and certain blazon; And thereupon it seems their eyes are feeding.
And as I gazing round me come among them, Upon a yellow pouch I azure saw That had the face and posture of a lion.
Proceeding then the current of my sight, Another of them saw I, red as blood, Display a goose more white than butter is.
And one, who with an azure sow and gravid Emblazoned had his little pouch of white, Said unto me: "What dost thou in this moat?
Now get thee gone; and since thou'rt still alive, Know that a neighbour of mine, Vitaliano, Will have his seat here on my left-hand side.
A Paduan am I with these Florentines; Full many a time they thunder in mine ears, Exclaiming, 'Come the sovereign cavalier,
He who shall bring the satchel with three goats;'" Then twisted he his mouth, and forth he thrust His tongue, like to an ox that licks its nose.
And fearing lest my longer stay might vex Him who had warned me not to tarry long, Backward I turned me from those weary souls.
I found my Guide, who had already mounted Upon the back of that wild animal, And said to me: "Now be both strong and bold.
Now we descend by stairways such as these; Mount thou in front, for I will be midway, So that the tail may have no power to harm thee."
Such as he is who has so near the ague Of quartan that his nails are blue already, And trembles all, but looking at the shade;
Even such became I at those proffered words; But shame in me his menaces produced, Which maketh servant strong before good master.
I seated me upon those monstrous shoulders; I wished to say, and yet the voice came not As I believed, "Take heed that thou embrace me."
But he, who other times had rescued me In other peril, soon as I had mounted, Within his arms encircled and sustained me,
And said: "Now, Geryon, bestir thyself; The circles large, and the descent be little; Think of the novel burden which thou hast."
Even as the little vessel shoves from shore, Backward, still backward, so he thence withdrew; And when he wholly felt himself afloat,
There where his breast had been he turned his tail, And that extended like an eel he moved, And with his paws drew to himself the air.
A greater fear I do not think there was What time abandoned Phaeton the reins, Whereby the heavens, as still appears, were scorched;
Nor when the wretched Icarus his flanks Felt stripped of feathers by the melting wax, His father crying, "An ill way thou takest!"
Than was my own, when I perceived myself On all sides in the air, and saw extinguished The sight of everything but of the monster.
Onward he goeth, swimming slowly, slowly; Wheels and descends, but I perceive it only By wind upon my face and from below.
I heard already on the right the whirlpool Making a horrible crashing under us; Whence I thrust out my head with eyes cast downward.
Then was I still more fearful of the abyss; Because I fires beheld, and heard laments, Whereat I, trembling, all the closer cling.
I saw then, for before I had not seen it, The turning and descending, by great horrors That were approaching upon divers sides.
As falcon who has long been on the wing, Who, without seeing either lure or bird, Maketh the falconer say, "Ah me, thou stoopest,"
Descendeth weary, whence he started swiftly, Thorough a hundred circles, and alights Far from his master, sullen and disdainful;
Even thus did Geryon place us on the bottom, Close to the bases of the rough-hewn rock, And being disencumbered of our persons,
He sped away as arrow from the string.
Inferno: Canto XVIII
There is a place in Hell called Malebolge, Wholly of stone and of an iron colour, As is the circle that around it turns.
Right in the middle of the field malign There yawns a well exceeding wide and deep, Of which its place the structure will recount.
Round, then, is that enclosure which remains Between the well and foot of the high, hard bank, And has distinct in valleys ten its bottom.
As where for the protection of the walls Many and many moats surround the castles, The part in which they are a figure forms,
Just such an image those presented there; And as about such strongholds from their gates Unto the outer bank are little bridges,
So from the precipice's base did crags Project, which intersected dikes and moats, Unto the well that truncates and collects them.
Within this place, down shaken from the back Of Geryon, we found us; and the Poet Held to the left, and I moved on behind.
Upon my right hand I beheld new anguish, New torments, and new wielders of the lash, Wherewith the foremost Bolgia was replete.
Down at the bottom were the sinners naked; This side the middle came they facing us, Beyond it, with us, but with greater steps;
Even as the Romans, for the mighty host, The year of Jubilee, upon the bridge, Have chosen a mode to pass the people over;
For all upon one side towards the Castle Their faces have, and go unto St. Peter's; On the other side they go towards the Mountain.
This side and that, along the livid stone Beheld I horned demons with great scourges, Who cruelly were beating them behind.
Ah me! how they did make them lift their legs At the first blows! and sooth not any one The second waited for, nor for the third.
While I was going on, mine eyes by one Encountered were; and straight I said: "Already With sight of this one I am not unfed."
Therefore I stayed my feet to make him out, And with me the sweet Guide came to a stand, And to my going somewhat back assented;
And he, the scourged one, thought to hide himself, Lowering his face, but little it availed him; For said I: "Thou that castest down thine eyes,
If false are not the features which thou bearest, Thou art Venedico Caccianimico; But what doth bring thee to such pungent sauces?"
And he to me: "Unwillingly I tell it; But forces me thine utterance distinct, Which makes me recollect the ancient world.
I was the one who the fair Ghisola Induced to grant the wishes of the Marquis, Howe'er the shameless story may be told.
Not the sole Bolognese am I who weeps here; Nay, rather is this place so full of them, That not so many tongues to-day are taught
'Twixt Reno and Savena to say 'sipa;' And if thereof thou wishest pledge or proof, Bring to thy mind our avaricious heart."
While speaking in this manner, with his scourge A demon smote him, and said: "Get thee gone Pander, there are no women here for coin."
I joined myself again unto mine Escort; Thereafterward with footsteps few we came To where a crag projected from the bank.
This very easily did we ascend, And turning to the right along its ridge, From those eternal circles we departed.
When we were there, where it is hollowed out Beneath, to give a passage to the scourged, The Guide said: "Wait, and see that on thee strike
The vision of those others evil-born, Of whom thou hast not yet beheld the faces, Because together with us they have gone."
From the old bridge we looked upon the train Which tow'rds us came upon the other border, And which the scourges in like manner smite.
And the good Master, without my inquiring, Said to me: "See that tall one who is coming, And for his pain seems not to shed a tear;
Still what a royal aspect he retains! That Jason is, who by his heart and cunning The Colchians of the Ram made destitute.
He by the isle of Lemnos passed along After the daring women pitiless Had unto death devoted all their males.
There with his tokens and with ornate words Did he deceive Hypsipyle, the maiden Who first, herself, had all the rest deceived.
There did he leave her pregnant and forlorn; Such sin unto such punishment condemns him, And also for Medea is vengeance done.
With him go those who in such wise deceive; And this sufficient be of the first valley To know, and those that in its jaws it holds."
We were already where the narrow path Crosses athwart the second dike, and forms Of that a buttress for another arch.
Thence we heard people, who are making moan In the next Bolgia, snorting with their muzzles, And with their palms beating upon themselves
The margins were incrusted with a mould By exhalation from below, that sticks there, And with the eyes and nostrils wages war.
The bottom is so deep, no place suffices To give us sight of it, without ascending The arch's back, where most the crag impends.
Thither we came, and thence down in the moat I saw a people smothered in a filth That out of human privies seemed to flow;
And whilst below there with mine eye I search, I saw one with his head so foul with ordure, It was not clear if he were clerk or layman.
He screamed to me: "Wherefore art thou so eager To look at me more than the other foul ones?" And I to him: "Because, if I remember,
I have already seen thee with dry hair, And thou'rt Alessio Interminei of Lucca; Therefore I eye thee more than all the others."
And he thereon, belabouring his pumpkin: "The flatteries have submerged me here below, Wherewith my tongue was never surfeited."
Then said to me the Guide: "See that thou thrust Thy visage somewhat farther in advance, That with thine eyes thou well the face attain
Of that uncleanly and dishevelled drab, Who there doth scratch herself with filthy nails, And crouches now, and now on foot is standing.
Thais the harlot is it, who replied Unto her paramour, when he said, 'Have I Great gratitude from thee?'--'Nay, marvellous;'
And herewith let our sight be satisfied."
Inferno: Canto XIX
O Simon Magus, O forlorn disciples, Ye who the things of God, which ought to be The brides of holiness, rapaciously
For silver and for gold do prostitute, Now it behoves for you the trumpet sound, Because in this third Bolgia ye abide.
We had already on the following tomb Ascended to that portion of the crag Which o'er the middle of the moat hangs plumb.
Wisdom supreme, O how great art thou showest In heaven, in earth, and in the evil world, And with what justice doth thy power distribute!
I saw upon the sides and on the bottom The livid stone with perforations filled, All of one size, and every one was round.
To me less ample seemed they not, nor greater Than those that in my beautiful Saint John Are fashioned for the place of the baptisers,
And one of which, not many years ago, I broke for some one, who was drowning in it; Be this a seal all men to undeceive.
Out of the mouth of each one there protruded The feet of a transgressor, and the legs Up to the calf, the rest within remained.
In all of them the soles were both on fire; Wherefore the joints so violently quivered, They would have snapped asunder withes and bands.
Even as the flame of unctuous things is wont To move upon the outer surface only, So likewise was it there from heel to point.
"Master, who is that one who writhes himself, More than his other comrades quivering," I said, "and whom a redder flame is sucking?"
And he to me: "If thou wilt have me bear thee Down there along that bank which lowest lies, From him thou'lt know his errors and himself."
And I: "What pleases thee, to me is pleasing; Thou art my Lord, and knowest that I depart not From thy desire, and knowest what is not spoken."
Straightway upon the fourth dike we arrived; We turned, and on the left-hand side descended Down to the bottom full of holes and narrow.
And the good Master yet from off his haunch Deposed me not, till to the hole he brought me Of him who so lamented with his shanks.
"Whoe'er thou art, that standest upside down, O doleful soul, implanted like a stake," To say began I, "if thou canst, speak out."
I stood even as the friar who is confessing The false assassin, who, when he is fixed, Recalls him, so that death may be delayed.
And he cried out: "Dost thou stand there already, Dost thou stand there already, Boniface? By many years the record lied to me.
Art thou so early satiate with that wealth, For which thou didst not fear to take by fraud The beautiful Lady, and then work her woe?"
Such I became, as people are who stand, Not comprehending what is answered them, As if bemocked, and know not how to answer.
Then said Virgilius: "Say to him straightway, 'I am not he, I am not he thou thinkest.'" And I replied as was imposed on me.
Whereat the spirit writhed with both his feet, Then, sighing, with a voice of lamentation Said to me: "Then what wantest thou of me?
If who I am thou carest so much to know, That thou on that account hast crossed the bank, Know that I vested was with the great mantle;
And truly was I son of the She-bear, So eager to advance the cubs, that wealth Above, and here myself, I pocketed.
Beneath my head the others are dragged down Who have preceded me in simony, Flattened along the fissure of the rock.
Below there I shall likewise fall, whenever That one shall come who I believed thou wast, What time the sudden question I proposed.
But longer I my feet already toast, And here have been in this way upside down, Than he will planted stay with reddened feet;
For after him shall come of fouler deed From tow'rds the west a Pastor without law, Such as befits to cover him and me.
New Jason will he be, of whom we read In Maccabees; and as his king was pliant, So he who governs France shall be to this one."
I do not know if I were here too bold, That him I answered only in this metre: "I pray thee tell me now how great a treasure
Our Lord demanded of Saint Peter first, Before he put the keys into his keeping? Truly he nothing asked but 'Follow me.'
Nor Peter nor the rest asked of Matthias Silver or gold, when he by lot was chosen Unto the place the guilty soul had lost.
Therefore stay here, for thou art justly punished, And keep safe guard o'er the ill-gotten money, Which caused thee to be valiant against Charles.
And were it not that still forbids it me The reverence for the keys superlative Thou hadst in keeping in the gladsome life,
I would make use of words more grievous still; Because your avarice afflicts the world, Trampling the good and lifting the depraved.
The Evangelist you Pastors had in mind, When she who sitteth upon many waters To fornicate with kings by him was seen;
The same who with the seven heads was born, And power and strength from the ten horns received, So long as virtue to her spouse was pleasing.
Ye have made yourselves a god of gold and silver; And from the idolater how differ ye, Save that he one, and ye a hundred worship?
Ah, Constantine! of how much ill was mother, Not thy conversion, but that marriage dower Which the first wealthy Father took from thee!"
And while I sang to him such notes as these, Either that anger or that conscience stung him, He struggled violently with both his feet.
I think in sooth that it my Leader pleased, With such contented lip he listened ever Unto the sound of the true words expressed.
Therefore with both his arms he took me up, And when he had me all upon his breast, Remounted by the way where he descended.
Nor did he tire to have me clasped to him; But bore me to the summit of the arch Which from the fourth dike to the fifth is passage.
There tenderly he laid his burden down, Tenderly on the crag uneven and steep, That would have been hard passage for the goats:
Thence was unveiled to me another valley.
Inferno: Canto XX
Of a new pain behoves me to make verses And give material to the twentieth canto Of the first song, which is of the submerged.
I was already thoroughly disposed To peer down into the uncovered depth, Which bathed itself with tears of agony;
And people saw I through the circular valley, Silent and weeping, coming at the pace Which in this world the Litanies assume.
As lower down my sight descended on them, Wondrously each one seemed to be distorted From chin to the beginning of the chest;
For tow'rds the reins the countenance was turned, And backward it behoved them to advance, As to look forward had been taken from them.
Perchance indeed by violence of palsy Some one has been thus wholly turned awry; But I ne'er saw it, nor believe it can be.
As God may let thee, Reader, gather fruit From this thy reading, think now for thyself How I could ever keep my face unmoistened,
When our own image near me I beheld Distorted so, the weeping of the eyes Along the fissure bathed the hinder parts.
Truly I wept, leaning upon a peak Of the hard crag, so that my Escort said To me: "Art thou, too, of the other fools?
Here pity lives when it is wholly dead; Who is a greater reprobate than he Who feels compassion at the doom divine?
Lift up, lift up thy head, and see for whom Opened the earth before the Thebans' eyes; Wherefore they all cried: 'Whither rushest thou,
Amphiaraus? Why dost leave the war?' And downward ceased he not to fall amain As far as Minos, who lays hold on all.
See, he has made a bosom of his shoulders! Because he wished to see too far before him Behind he looks, and backward goes his way:
Behold Tiresias, who his semblance changed, When from a male a female he became, His members being all of them transformed;
And afterwards was forced to strike once more The two entangled serpents with his rod, Ere he could have again his manly plumes.
That Aruns is, who backs the other's belly, Who in the hills of Luni, there where grubs The Carrarese who houses underneath,
Among the marbles white a cavern had For his abode; whence to behold the stars And sea, the view was not cut off from him.
And she there, who is covering up her breasts, Which thou beholdest not, with loosened tresses, And on that side has all the hairy skin,
Was Manto, who made quest through many lands, Afterwards tarried there where I was born; Whereof I would thou list to me a little.
After her father had from life departed, And the city of Bacchus had become enslaved, She a long season wandered through the world.
Above in beauteous Italy lies a lake At the Alp's foot that shuts in Germany Over Tyrol, and has the name Benaco.
By a thousand springs, I think, and more, is bathed, 'Twixt Garda and Val Camonica, Pennino, With water that grows stagnant in that lake.
Midway a place is where the Trentine Pastor, And he of Brescia, and the Veronese Might give his blessing, if he passed that way.
Sitteth Peschiera, fortress fair and strong, To front the Brescians and the Bergamasks, Where round about the bank descendeth lowest.
There of necessity must fall whatever In bosom of Benaco cannot stay, And grows a river down through verdant pastures.
Soon as the water doth begin to run, No more Benaco is it called, but Mincio, Far as Governo, where it falls in Po.
Not far it runs before it finds a plain In which it spreads itself, and makes it marshy, And oft 'tis wont in summer to be sickly.
Passing that way the virgin pitiless Land in the middle of the fen descried, Untilled and naked of inhabitants;
There to escape all human intercourse, She with her servants stayed, her arts to practise And lived, and left her empty body there.
The men, thereafter, who were scattered round, Collected in that place, which was made strong By the lagoon it had on every side;
They built their city over those dead bones, And, after her who first the place selected, Mantua named it, without other omen.
Its people once within more crowded were, Ere the stupidity of Casalodi From Pinamonte had received deceit.
Therefore I caution thee, if e'er thou hearest Originate my city otherwise, No falsehood may the verity defraud."
And I: "My Master, thy discourses are To me so certain, and so take my faith, That unto me the rest would be spent coals.
But tell me of the people who are passing, If any one note-worthy thou beholdest, For only unto that my mind reverts."
Then said he to me: "He who from the cheek Thrusts out his beard upon his swarthy shoulders Was, at the time when Greece was void of males,
So that there scarce remained one in the cradle, An augur, and with Calchas gave the moment, In Aulis, when to sever the first cable.
Eryphylus his name was, and so sings My lofty Tragedy in some part or other; That knowest thou well, who knowest the whole of it.
The next, who is so slender in the flanks, Was Michael Scott, who of a verity Of magical illusions knew the game.
Behold Guido Bonatti, behold Asdente, Who now unto his leather and his thread Would fain have stuck, but he too late repents.
Behold the wretched ones, who left the needle, The spool and rock, and made them fortune-tellers; They wrought their magic spells with herb and image.
But come now, for already holds the confines Of both the hemispheres, and under Seville Touches the ocean-wave, Cain and the thorns,
And yesternight the moon was round already; Thou shouldst remember well it did not harm thee From time to time within the forest deep."
Thus spake he to me, and we walked the while.
Inferno: Canto XXI
From bridge to bridge thus, speaking other things Of which my Comedy cares not to sing, We came along, and held the summit, when
We halted to behold another fissure Of Malebolge and other vain laments; And I beheld it marvellously dark.
As in the Arsenal of the Venetians Boils in the winter the tenacious pitch To smear their unsound vessels o'er again,
For sail they cannot; and instead thereof One makes his vessel new, and one recaulks The ribs of that which many a voyage has made;
One hammers at the prow, one at the stern, This one makes oars, and that one cordage twists, Another mends the mainsail and the mizzen;
Thus, not by fire, but by the art divine, Was boiling down below there a dense pitch Which upon every side the bank belimed.
I saw it, but I did not see within it Aught but the bubbles that the boiling raised, And all swell up and resubside compressed.
The while below there fixedly I gazed, My Leader, crying out: "Beware, beware!" Drew me unto himself from where I stood.
Then I turned round, as one who is impatient To see what it behoves him to escape, And whom a sudden terror doth unman,
Who, while he looks, delays not his departure; And I beheld behind us a black devil, Running along upon the crag, approach.
Ah, how ferocious was he in his aspect! And how he seemed to me in action ruthless, With open wings and light upon his feet!
His shoulders, which sharp-pointed were and high, A sinner did encumber with both haunches, And he held clutched the sinews of the feet.
From off our bridge, he said: "O Malebranche, Behold one of the elders of Saint Zita; Plunge him beneath, for I return for others
Unto that town, which is well furnished with them. All there are barrators, except Bonturo; No into Yes for money there is changed."
He hurled him down, and over the hard crag Turned round, and never was a mastiff loosened In so much hurry to pursue a thief.
The other sank, and rose again face downward; But the demons, under cover of the bridge, Cried: "Here the Santo Volto has no place!
Here swims one otherwise than in the Serchio; Therefore, if for our gaffs thou wishest not, Do not uplift thyself above the pitch."
They seized him then with more than a hundred rakes; They said: "It here behoves thee to dance covered, That, if thou canst, thou secretly mayest pilfer."
Not otherwise the cooks their scullions make Immerse into the middle of the caldron The meat with hooks, so that it may not float.
Said the good Master to me: "That it be not Apparent thou art here, crouch thyself down Behind a jag, that thou mayest have some screen;
And for no outrage that is done to me Be thou afraid, because these things I know, For once before was I in such a scuffle."
Then he passed on beyond the bridge's head, And as upon the sixth bank he arrived, Need was for him to have a steadfast front.
With the same fury, and the same uproar, As dogs leap out upon a mendicant, Who on a sudden begs, where'er he stops,
They issued from beneath the little bridge, And turned against him all their grappling-irons; But he cried out: "Be none of you malignant!
Before those hooks of yours lay hold of me, Let one of you step forward, who may hear me, And then take counsel as to grappling me."
They all cried out: "Let Malacoda go;" Whereat one started, and the rest stood still, And he came to him, saying: "What avails it?"
"Thinkest thou, Malacoda, to behold me Advanced into this place," my Master said, "Safe hitherto from all your skill of fence,
Without the will divine, and fate auspicious? Let me go on, for it in Heaven is willed That I another show this savage road."
Then was his arrogance so humbled in him, That he let fall his grapnel at his feet, And to the others said: "Now strike him not."
And unto me my Guide: "O thou, who sittest Among the splinters of the bridge crouched down, Securely now return to me again."
Wherefore I started and came swiftly to him; And all the devils forward thrust themselves, So that I feared they would not keep their compact.
And thus beheld I once afraid the soldiers Who issued under safeguard from Caprona, Seeing themselves among so many foes.
Close did I press myself with all my person Beside my Leader, and turned not mine eyes From off their countenance, which was not good.
They lowered their rakes, and "Wilt thou have me hit him," They said to one another, "on the rump?" And answered: "Yes; see that thou nick him with it."
But the same demon who was holding parley With my Conductor turned him very quickly, And said: "Be quiet, be quiet, Scarmiglione;"
Then said to us: "You can no farther go Forward upon this crag, because is lying All shattered, at the bottom, the sixth arch.
And if it still doth please you to go onward, Pursue your way along upon this rock; Near is another crag that yields a path.
Yesterday, five hours later than this hour, One thousand and two hundred sixty-six Years were complete, that here the way was broken.
I send in that direction some of mine To see if any one doth air himself; Go ye with them; for they will not be vicious.
Step forward, Alichino and Calcabrina," Began he to cry out, "and thou, Cagnazzo; And Barbariccia, do thou guide the ten.
Come forward, Libicocco and Draghignazzo, And tusked Ciriatto and Graffiacane, And Farfarello and mad Rubicante;
Search ye all round about the boiling pitch; Let these be safe as far as the next crag, That all unbroken passes o'er the dens."
"O me! what is it, Master, that I see? Pray let us go," I said, "without an escort, If thou knowest how, since for myself I ask none.
If thou art as observant as thy wont is, Dost thou not see that they do gnash their teeth, And with their brows are threatening woe to us?"
And he to me: "I will not have thee fear; Let them gnash on, according to their fancy, Because they do it for those boiling wretches."
Along the left-hand dike they wheeled about; But first had each one thrust his tongue between His teeth towards their leader for a signal;
And he had made a trumpet of his rump.
Inferno: Canto XXII
I have erewhile seen horsemen moving camp, Begin the storming, and their muster make, And sometimes starting off for their escape;
Vaunt-couriers have I seen upon your land, O Aretines, and foragers go forth, Tournaments stricken, and the joustings run,
Sometimes with trumpets and sometimes with bells, With kettle-drums, and signals of the castles, And with our own, and with outlandish things,
But never yet with bagpipe so uncouth Did I see horsemen move, nor infantry, Nor ship by any sign of land or star.
We went upon our way with the ten demons; Ah, savage company! but in the church With saints, and in the tavern with the gluttons!
Ever upon the pitch was my intent, To see the whole condition of that Bolgia, And of the people who therein were burned.
Even as the dolphins, when they make a sign To mariners by arching of the back, That they should counsel take to save their vessel,
Thus sometimes, to alleviate his pain, One of the sinners would display his back, And in less time conceal it than it lightens.
As on the brink of water in a ditch The frogs stand only with their muzzles out, So that they hide their feet and other bulk,
So upon every side the sinners stood; But ever as Barbariccia near them came, Thus underneath the boiling they withdrew.
I saw, and still my heart doth shudder at it, One waiting thus, even as it comes to pass One frog remains, and down another dives;
And Graffiacan, who most confronted him, Grappled him by his tresses smeared with pitch, And drew him up, so that he seemed an otter.
I knew, before, the names of all of them, So had I noted them when they were chosen, And when they called each other, listened how.
"O Rubicante, see that thou do lay Thy claws upon him, so that thou mayst flay him," Cried all together the accursed ones.
And I: "My Master, see to it, if thou canst, That thou mayst know who is the luckless wight, Thus come into his adversaries' hands."
Near to the side of him my Leader drew, Asked of him whence he was; and he replied: "I in the kingdom of Navarre was born;
My mother placed me servant to a lord, For she had borne me to a ribald knave, Destroyer of himself and of his things.
Then I domestic was of good King Thibault; I set me there to practise barratry, For which I pay the reckoning in this heat."
And Ciriatto, from whose mouth projected, On either side, a tusk, as in a boar, Caused him to feel how one of them could rip.
Among malicious cats the mouse had come; But Barbariccia clasped him in his arms, And said: "Stand ye aside, while I enfork him."
And to my Master he turned round his head; "Ask him again," he said, "if more thou wish To know from him, before some one destroy him."
The Guide: "Now tell then of the other culprits; Knowest thou any one who is a Latian, Under the pitch?" And he: "I separated
Lately from one who was a neighbour to it; Would that I still were covered up with him, For I should fear not either claw nor hook!"
And Libicocco: "We have borne too much;" And with his grapnel seized him by the arm, So that, by rending, he tore off a tendon.
Eke Draghignazzo wished to pounce upon him Down at the legs; whence their Decurion Turned round and round about with evil look.
When they again somewhat were pacified, Of him, who still was looking at his wound, Demanded my Conductor without stay:
"Who was that one, from whom a luckless parting Thou sayest thou hast made, to come ashore?" And he replied: "It was the Friar Gomita,
He of Gallura, vessel of all fraud, Who had the enemies of his Lord in hand, And dealt so with them each exults thereat;
Money he took, and let them smoothly off, As he says; and in other offices A barrator was he, not mean but sovereign.
Foregathers with him one Don Michael Zanche Of Logodoro; and of Sardinia To gossip never do their tongues feel tired.
O me! see that one, how he grinds his teeth; Still farther would I speak, but am afraid Lest he to scratch my itch be making ready."
And the grand Provost, turned to Farfarello, Who rolled his eyes about as if to strike, Said: "Stand aside there, thou malicious bird."
"If you desire either to see or hear," The terror-stricken recommenced thereon, "Tuscans or Lombards, I will make them come.
But let the Malebranche cease a little, So that these may not their revenges fear, And I, down sitting in this very place,
For one that I am will make seven come, When I shall whistle, as our custom is To do whenever one of us comes out."
Cagnazzo at these words his muzzle lifted, Shaking his head, and said: "Just hear the trick Which he has thought of, down to throw himself!"
Whence he, who snares in great abundance had, Responded: "I by far too cunning am, When I procure for mine a greater sadness."
Alichin held not in, but running counter Unto the rest, said to him: "If thou dive, I will not follow thee upon the gallop,
But I will beat my wings above the pitch; The height be left, and be the bank a shield To see if thou alone dost countervail us."
O thou who readest, thou shalt hear new sport! Each to the other side his eyes averted; He first, who most reluctant was to do it.
The Navarrese selected well his time; Planted his feet on land, and in a moment Leaped, and released himself from their design.
Whereat each one was suddenly stung with shame, But he most who was cause of the defeat; Therefore he moved, and cried: "Thou art o'ertakern."
But little it availed, for wings could not Outstrip the fear; the other one went under, And, flying, upward he his breast directed;
Not otherwise the duck upon a sudden Dives under, when the falcon is approaching, And upward he returneth cross and weary.
Infuriate at the mockery, Calcabrina Flying behind him followed close, desirous The other should escape, to have a quarrel.
And when the barrator had disappeared, He turned his talons upon his companion, And grappled with him right above the moat.
But sooth the other was a doughty sparhawk To clapperclaw him well; and both of them Fell in the middle of the boiling pond.
A sudden intercessor was the heat; But ne'ertheless of rising there was naught, To such degree they had their wings belimed.
Lamenting with the others, Barbariccia Made four of them fly to the other side With all their gaffs, and very speedily
This side and that they to their posts descended; They stretched their hooks towards the pitch-ensnared, Who were already baked within the crust,
And in this manner busied did we leave them.
Inferno: Canto XXIII
Silent, alone, and without company We went, the one in front, the other after, As go the Minor Friars along their way.
Upon the fable of Aesop was directed My thought, by reason of the present quarrel, Where he has spoken of the frog and mouse;
For 'mo' and 'issa' are not more alike Than this one is to that, if well we couple End and beginning with a steadfast mind.
And even as one thought from another springs, So afterward from that was born another, Which the first fear within me double made.
Thus did I ponder: "These on our account Are laughed to scorn, with injury and scoff So great, that much I think it must annoy them.
If anger be engrafted on ill-will, They will come after us more merciless Than dog upon the leveret which he seizes,"
I felt my hair stand all on end already With terror, and stood backwardly intent, When said I: "Master, if thou hidest not
Thyself and me forthwith, of Malebranche I am in dread; we have them now behind us; I so imagine them, I already feel them."
And he: "If I were made of leaded glass, Thine outward image I should not attract Sooner to me than I imprint the inner.
Just now thy thoughts came in among my own, With similar attitude and similar face, So that of both one counsel sole I made.
If peradventure the right bank so slope That we to the next Bolgia can descend, We shall escape from the imagined chase."
Not yet he finished rendering such opinion, When I beheld them come with outstretched wings, Not far remote, with will to seize upon us.
My Leader on a sudden seized me up, Even as a mother who by noise is wakened, And close beside her sees the enkindled flames,
Who takes her son, and flies, and does not stop, Having more care of him than of herself, So that she clothes her only with a shift;
And downward from the top of the hard bank Supine he gave him to the pendent rock, That one side of the other Bolgia walls.
Ne'er ran so swiftly water through a sluice To turn the wheel of any land-built mill, When nearest to the paddles it approaches,
As did my Master down along that border, Bearing me with him on his breast away, As his own son, and not as a companion.
Hardly the bed of the ravine below His feet had reached, ere they had reached the hill Right over us; but he was not afraid;
For the high Providence, which had ordained To place them ministers of the fifth moat, The power of thence departing took from all.
A painted people there below we found, Who went about with footsteps very slow, Weeping and in their semblance tired and vanquished.
They had on mantles with the hoods low down Before their eyes, and fashioned of the cut That in Cologne they for the monks are made.
Without, they gilded are so that it dazzles; But inwardly all leaden and so heavy That Frederick used to put them on of straw.
O everlastingly fatiguing mantle! Again we turned us, still to the left hand Along with them, intent on their sad plaint;
But owing to the weight, that weary folk Came on so tardily, that we were new In company at each motion of the haunch.
Whence I unto my Leader: "See thou find Some one who may by deed or name be known, And thus in going move thine eye about."
And one, who understood the Tuscan speech, Cried to us from behind: "Stay ye your feet, Ye, who so run athwart the dusky air!
Perhaps thou'lt have from me what thou demandest." Whereat the Leader turned him, and said: "Wait, And then according to his pace proceed."
I stopped, and two beheld I show great haste Of spirit, in their faces, to be with me; But the burden and the narrow way delayed them.
When they came up, long with an eye askance They scanned me without uttering a word. Then to each other turned, and said together:
"He by the action of his throat seems living; And if they dead are, by what privilege Go they uncovered by the heavy stole?"
Then said to me: "Tuscan, who to the college Of miserable hypocrites art come, Do not disdain to tell us who thou art."
And I to them: "Born was I, and grew up In the great town on the fair river of Arno, And with the body am I've always had.
But who are ye, in whom there trickles down Along your cheeks such grief as I behold? And what pain is upon you, that so sparkles?"
And one replied to me: "These orange cloaks Are made of lead so heavy, that the weights Cause in this way their balances to creak.
Frati Gaudenti were we, and Bolognese; I Catalano, and he Loderingo Named, and together taken by thy city,
As the wont is to take one man alone, For maintenance of its peace; and we were such That still it is apparent round Gardingo."
"O Friars," began I, "your iniquitous. . ." But said no more; for to mine eyes there rushed One crucified with three stakes on the ground.
When me he saw, he writhed himself all over, Blowing into his beard with suspirations; And the Friar Catalan, who noticed this,
Said to me: "This transfixed one, whom thou seest, Counselled the Pharisees that it was meet To put one man to torture for the people.
Crosswise and naked is he on the path, As thou perceivest; and he needs must feel, Whoever passes, first how much he weighs;
And in like mode his father-in-law is punished Within this moat, and the others of the council, Which for the Jews was a malignant seed."
And thereupon I saw Virgilius marvel O'er him who was extended on the cross So vilely in eternal banishment.
Then he directed to the Friar this voice: "Be not displeased, if granted thee, to tell us If to the right hand any pass slope down
By which we two may issue forth from here, Without constraining some of the black angels To come and extricate us from this deep."
Then he made answer: "Nearer than thou hopest There is a rock, that forth from the great circle Proceeds, and crosses all the cruel valleys,
Save that at this 'tis broken, and does not bridge it; You will be able to mount up the ruin, That sidelong slopes and at the bottom rises."
The Leader stood awhile with head bowed down; Then said: "The business badly he recounted Who grapples with his hook the sinners yonder."
And the Friar: "Many of the Devil's vices Once heard I at Bologna, and among them, That he's a liar and the father of lies."
Thereat my Leader with great strides went on, Somewhat disturbed with anger in his looks; Whence from the heavy-laden I departed
After the prints of his beloved feet.
Inferno: Canto XXIV
In that part of the youthful year wherein The Sun his locks beneath Aquarius tempers, And now the nights draw near to half the day,
What time the hoar-frost copies on the ground The outward semblance of her sister white, But little lasts the temper of her pen,
The husbandman, whose forage faileth him, Rises, and looks, and seeth the champaign All gleaming white, whereat he beats his flank,
Returns in doors, and up and down laments, Like a poor wretch, who knows not what to do; Then he returns and hope revives again,
Seeing the world has changed its countenance In little time, and takes his shepherd's crook, And forth the little lambs to pasture drives.
Thus did the Master fill me with alarm, When I beheld his forehead so disturbed, And to the ailment came as soon the plaster.
For as we came unto the ruined bridge, The Leader turned to me with that sweet look Which at the mountain's foot I first beheld.
His arms he opened, after some advisement Within himself elected, looking first Well at the ruin, and laid hold of me.
And even as he who acts and meditates, For aye it seems that he provides beforehand, So upward lifting me towards the summit
Of a huge rock, he scanned another crag, Saying: "To that one grapple afterwards, But try first if 'tis such that it will hold thee."
This was no way for one clothed with a cloak; For hardly we, he light, and I pushed upward, Were able to ascend from jag to jag.
And had it not been, that upon that precinct Shorter was the ascent than on the other, He I know not, but I had been dead beat.
But because Malebolge tow'rds the mouth Of the profoundest well is all inclining, The structure of each valley doth import
That one bank rises and the other sinks. Still we arrived at length upon the point Wherefrom the last stone breaks itself asunder.
The breath was from my lungs so milked away, When I was up, that I could go no farther, Nay, I sat down upon my first arrival.
"Now it behoves thee thus to put off sloth," My Master said; "for sitting upon down, Or under quilt, one cometh not to fame,
Withouten which whoso his life consumes Such vestige leaveth of himself on earth, As smoke in air or in the water foam.
And therefore raise thee up, o'ercome the anguish With spirit that o'ercometh every battle, If with its heavy body it sink not.
A longer stairway it behoves thee mount; 'Tis not enough from these to have departed; Let it avail thee, if thou understand me."
Then I uprose, showing myself provided Better with breath than I did feel myself, And said: "Go on, for I am strong and bold."
Upward we took our way along the crag, Which jagged was, and narrow, and difficult, And more precipitous far than that before.
Speaking I went, not to appear exhausted; Whereat a voice from the next moat came forth, Not well adapted to articulate words.
I know not what it said, though o'er the back I now was of the arch that passes there; But he seemed moved to anger who was speaking.
I was bent downward, but my living eyes Could not attain the bottom, for the dark; Wherefore I: "Master, see that thou arrive
At the next round, and let us descend the wall; For as from hence I hear and understand not, So I look down and nothing I distinguish."
"Other response," he said, "I make thee not, Except the doing; for the modest asking Ought to be followed by the deed in silence."
We from the bridge descended at its head, Where it connects itself with the eighth bank, And then was manifest to me the Bolgia;
And I beheld therein a terrible throng Of serpents, and of such a monstrous kind, That the remembrance still congeals my blood
Let Libya boast no longer with her sand; For if Chelydri, Jaculi, and Phareae She breeds, with Cenchri and with Amphisbaena,
Neither so many plagues nor so malignant E'er showed she with all Ethiopia, Nor with whatever on the Red Sea is!
Among this cruel and most dismal throng People were running naked and affrighted. Without the hope of hole or heliotrope.
They had their hands with serpents bound behind them; These riveted upon their reins the tail And head, and were in front of them entwined.
And lo! at one who was upon our side There darted forth a serpent, which transfixed him There where the neck is knotted to the shoulders.
Nor 'O' so quickly e'er, nor 'I' was written, As he took fire, and burned; and ashes wholly Behoved it that in falling he became.
And when he on the ground was thus destroyed, The ashes drew together, and of themselves Into himself they instantly returned.
Even thus by the great sages 'tis confessed The phoenix dies, and then is born again, When it approaches its five-hundredth year;
On herb or grain it feeds not in its life, But only on tears of incense and amomum, And nard and myrrh are its last winding-sheet.
And as he is who falls, and knows not how, By force of demons who to earth down drag him, Or other oppilation that binds man,
When he arises and around him looks, Wholly bewildered by the mighty anguish Which he has suffered, and in looking sighs;
Such was that sinner after he had risen. Justice of God! O how severe it is, That blows like these in vengeance poureth down!
The Guide thereafter asked him who he was; Whence he replied: "I rained from Tuscany A short time since into this cruel gorge.
A bestial life, and not a human, pleased me, Even as the mule I was; I'm Vanni Fucci, Beast, and Pistoia was my worthy den."
And I unto the Guide: "Tell him to stir not, And ask what crime has thrust him here below, For once a man of blood and wrath I saw him."
And the sinner, who had heard, dissembled not, But unto me directed mind and face, And with a melancholy shame was painted.
Then said: "It pains me more that thou hast caught me Amid this misery where thou seest me, Than when I from the other life was taken.
What thou demandest I cannot deny; So low am I put down because I robbed The sacristy of the fair ornaments,
And falsely once 'twas laid upon another; But that thou mayst not such a sight enjoy, If thou shalt e'er be out of the dark places,
Thine ears to my announcement ope and hear: Pistoia first of Neri groweth meagre; Then Florence doth renew her men and manners;
Mars draws a vapour up from Val di Magra, Which is with turbid clouds enveloped round, And with impetuous and bitter tempest
Over Campo Picen shall be the battle; When it shall suddenly rend the mist asunder, So that each Bianco shall thereby be smitten.
And this I've said that it may give thee pain."
Inferno: Canto XXV
At the conclusion of his words, the thief Lifted his hands aloft with both the figs, Crying: "Take that, God, for at thee I aim them."
From that time forth the serpents were my friends; For one entwined itself about his neck As if it said: "I will not thou speak more;"
And round his arms another, and rebound him, Clinching itself together so in front, That with them he could not a motion make.
Pistoia, ah, Pistoia! why resolve not To burn thyself to ashes and so perish, Since in ill-doing thou thy seed excellest?
Through all the sombre circles of this Hell, Spirit I saw not against God so proud, Not he who fell at Thebes down from the walls!
He fled away, and spake no further word; And I beheld a Centaur full of rage Come crying out: "Where is, where is the scoffer?"
I do not think Maremma has so many Serpents as he had all along his back, As far as where our countenance begins.
Upon the shoulders, just behind the nape, With wings wide open was a dragon lying, And he sets fire to all that he encounters.
My Master said: "That one is Cacus, who Beneath the rock upon Mount Aventine Created oftentimes a lake of blood.
He goes not on the same road with his brothers, By reason of the fraudulent theft he made Of the great herd, which he had near to him;
Whereat his tortuous actions ceased beneath The mace of Hercules, who peradventure Gave him a hundred, and he felt not ten."
While he was speaking thus, he had passed by, And spirits three had underneath us come, Of which nor I aware was, nor my Leader,
Until what time they shouted: "Who are you?" On which account our story made a halt, And then we were intent on them alone.
I did not know them; but it came to pass, As it is wont to happen by some chance, That one to name the other was compelled,
Exclaiming: "Where can Cianfa have remained?" Whence I, so that the Leader might attend, Upward from chin to nose my finger laid.
If thou art, Reader, slow now to believe What I shall say, it will no marvel be, For I who saw it hardly can admit it.
As I was holding raised on them my brows, Behold! a serpent with six feet darts forth In front of one, and fastens wholly on him.
With middle feet it bound him round the paunch, And with the forward ones his arms it seized; Then thrust its teeth through one cheek and the other;
The hindermost it stretched upon his thighs, And put its tail through in between the two, And up behind along the reins outspread it.
Ivy was never fastened by its barbs Unto a tree so, as this horrible reptile Upon the other's limbs entwined its own.
Then they stuck close, as if of heated wax They had been made, and intermixed their colour; Nor one nor other seemed now what he was;
E'en as proceedeth on before the flame Upward along the paper a brown colour, Which is not black as yet, and the white dies.
The other two looked on, and each of them Cried out: "O me, Agnello, how thou changest! Behold, thou now art neither two nor one."
Already the two heads had one become, When there appeared to us two figures mingled Into one face, wherein the two were lost.
Of the four lists were fashioned the two arms, The thighs and legs, the belly and the chest Members became that never yet were seen.
Every original aspect there was cancelled; Two and yet none did the perverted image Appear, and such departed with slow pace.
Even as a lizard, under the great scourge Of days canicular, exchanging hedge, Lightning appeareth if the road it cross;
Thus did appear, coming towards the bellies Of the two others, a small fiery serpent, Livid and black as is a peppercorn.
And in that part whereat is first received Our aliment, it one of them transfixed; Then downward fell in front of him extended.
The one transfixed looked at it, but said naught; Nay, rather with feet motionless he yawned, Just as if sleep or fever had assailed him.
He at the serpent gazed, and it at him; One through the wound, the other through the mouth Smoked violently, and the smoke commingled.
Henceforth be silent Lucan, where he mentions Wretched Sabellus and Nassidius, And wait to hear what now shall be shot forth.
Be silent Ovid, of Cadmus and Arethusa; For if him to a snake, her to fountain, Converts he fabling, that I grudge him not;
Because two natures never front to front Has he transmuted, so that both the forms To interchange their matter ready were.
Together they responded in such wise, That to a fork the serpent cleft his tail, And eke the wounded drew his feet together.
The legs together with the thighs themselves Adhered so, that in little time the juncture No sign whatever made that was apparent.
He with the cloven tail assumed the figure The other one was losing, and his skin Became elastic, and the other's hard.
I saw the arms draw inward at the armpits, And both feet of the reptile, that were short, Lengthen as much as those contracted were.
Thereafter the hind feet, together twisted, Became the member that a man conceals, And of his own the wretch had two created.
While both of them the exhalation veils With a new colour, and engenders hair On one of them and depilates the other,
The one uprose and down the other fell, Though turning not away their impious lamps, Underneath which each one his muzzle changed.
He who was standing drew it tow'rds the temples, And from excess of matter, which came thither, Issued the ears from out the hollow cheeks;
What did not backward run and was retained Of that excess made to the face a nose, And the lips thickened far as was befitting.
He who lay prostrate thrusts his muzzle forward, And backward draws the ears into his head, In the same manner as the snail its horns;
And so the tongue, which was entire and apt For speech before, is cleft, and the bi-forked In the other closes up, and the smoke ceases.
The soul, which to a reptile had been changed, Along the valley hissing takes to flight, And after him the other speaking sputters.
Then did he turn upon him his new shoulders, And said to the other: "I'll have Buoso run, Crawling as I have done, along this road."
In this way I beheld the seventh ballast Shift and reshift, and here be my excuse The novelty, if aught my pen transgress.
And notwithstanding that mine eyes might be Somewhat bewildered, and my mind dismayed, They could not flee away so secretly
But that I plainly saw Puccio Sciancato; And he it was who sole of three companions, Which came in the beginning, was not changed;
The other was he whom thou, Gaville, weepest.
Inferno: Canto XXVI
Rejoice, O Florence, since thou art so great, That over sea and land thou beatest thy wings, And throughout Hell thy name is spread abroad!
Among the thieves five citizens of thine Like these I found, whence shame comes unto me, And thou thereby to no great honour risest.
But if when morn is near our dreams are true, Feel shalt thou in a little time from now What Prato, if none other, craves for thee.
And if it now were, it were not too soon; Would that it were, seeing it needs must be, For 'twill aggrieve me more the more I age.
We went our way, and up along the stairs The bourns had made us to descend before, Remounted my Conductor and drew me.
And following the solitary path Among the rocks and ridges of the crag, The foot without the hand sped not at all.
Then sorrowed I, and sorrow now again, When I direct my mind to what I saw, And more my genius curb than I am wont,
That it may run not unless virtue guide it; So that if some good star, or better thing, Have given me good, I may myself not grudge it.
As many as the hind (who on the hill Rests at the time when he who lights the world His countenance keeps least concealed from us,
While as the fly gives place unto the gnat) Seeth the glow-worms down along the valley, Perchance there where he ploughs and makes his vintage;
With flames as manifold resplendent all Was the eighth Bolgia, as I grew aware As soon as I was where the depth appeared.
And such as he who with the bears avenged him Beheld Elijah's chariot at departing, What time the steeds to heaven erect uprose,
For with his eye he could not follow it So as to see aught else than flame alone, Even as a little cloud ascending upward,
Thus each along the gorge of the intrenchment Was moving; for not one reveals the theft, And every flame a sinner steals away.
I stood upon the bridge uprisen to see, So that, if I had seized not on a rock, Down had I fallen without being pushed.
And the Leader, who beheld me so attent, Exclaimed: "Within the fires the spirits are; Each swathes himself with that wherewith he burns."
"My Master," I replied, "by hearing thee I am more sure; but I surmised already It might be so, and already wished to ask thee
Who is within that fire, which comes so cleft At top, it seems uprising from the pyre Where was Eteocles with his brother placed."
He answered me: "Within there are tormented Ulysses and Diomed, and thus together They unto vengeance run as unto wrath.
And there within their flame do they lament The ambush of the horse, which made the door Whence issued forth the Romans' gentle seed;
Therein is wept the craft, for which being dead Deidamia still deplores Achilles, And pain for the Palladium there is borne."
"If they within those sparks possess the power To speak," I said, "thee, Master, much I pray, And re-pray, that the prayer be worth a thousand,
That thou make no denial of awaiting Until the horned flame shall hither come; Thou seest that with desire I lean towards it."
And he to me: "Worthy is thy entreaty Of much applause, and therefore I accept it; But take heed that thy tongue restrain itself.
Leave me to speak, because I have conceived That which thou wishest; for they might disdain Perchance, since they were Greeks, discourse of thine."
When now the flame had come unto that point, Where to my Leader it seemed time and place, After this fashion did I hear him speak:
"O ye, who are twofold within one fire, If I deserved of you, while I was living, If I deserved of you or much or little
When in the world I wrote the lofty verses, Do not move on, but one of you declare Whither, being lost, he went away to die."
Then of the antique flame the greater horn, Murmuring, began to wave itself about Even as a flame doth which the wind fatigues.
Thereafterward, the summit to and fro Moving as if it were the tongue that spake, It uttered forth a voice, and said: "When I
From Circe had departed, who concealed me More than a year there near unto Gaeta, Or ever yet Aeneas named it so,
Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence For my old father, nor the due affection Which joyous should have made Penelope,
Could overcome within me the desire I had to be experienced of the world, And of the vice and virtue of mankind;
But I put forth on the high open sea With one sole ship, and that small company By which I never had deserted been.
Both of the shores I saw as far as Spain, Far as Morocco, and the isle of Sardes, And the others which that sea bathes round about.
I and my company were old and slow When at that narrow passage we arrived Where Hercules his landmarks set as signals,
That man no farther onward should adventure. On the right hand behind me left I Seville, And on the other already had left Ceuta.
'O brothers, who amid a hundred thousand Perils,' I said, 'have come unto the West, To this so inconsiderable vigil
Which is remaining of your senses still Be ye unwilling to deny the knowledge, Following the sun, of the unpeopled world.
Consider ye the seed from which ye sprang; Ye were not made to live like unto brutes, But for pursuit of virtue and of knowledge.'
So eager did I render my companions, With this brief exhortation, for the voyage, That then I hardly could have held them back.
And having turned our stern unto the morning, We of the oars made wings for our mad flight, Evermore gaining on the larboard side.
Already all the stars of the other pole The night beheld, and ours so very low It did not rise above the ocean floor.
Five times rekindled and as many quenched Had been the splendour underneath the moon, Since we had entered into the deep pass,
When there appeared to us a mountain, dim From distance, and it seemed to me so high As I had never any one beheld.
Joyful were we, and soon it turned to weeping; For out of the new land a whirlwind rose, And smote upon the fore part of the ship.
Three times it made her whirl with all the waters, At the fourth time it made the stern uplift, And the prow downward go, as pleased Another,
Until the sea above us closed again."
Inferno: Canto XXVII
Already was the flame erect and quiet, To speak no more, and now departed from us With the permission of the gentle Poet;
When yet another, which behind it came, Caused us to turn our eyes upon its top By a confused sound that issued from it.
As the Sicilian bull (that bellowed first With the lament of him, and that was right, Who with his file had modulated it)
Bellowed so with the voice of the afflicted, That, notwithstanding it was made of brass, Still it appeared with agony transfixed;
Thus, by not having any way or issue At first from out the fire, to its own language Converted were the melancholy words.
But afterwards, when they had gathered way Up through the point, giving it that vibration The tongue had given them in their passage out,
We heard it said: "O thou, at whom I aim My voice, and who but now wast speaking Lombard, Saying, 'Now go thy way, no more I urge thee,'
Because I come perchance a little late, To stay and speak with me let it not irk thee; Thou seest it irks not me, and I am burning.
If thou but lately into this blind world Hast fallen down from that sweet Latian land, Wherefrom I bring the whole of my transgression,
Say, if the Romagnuols have peace or war, For I was from the mountains there between Urbino and the yoke whence Tiber bursts."
I still was downward bent and listening, When my Conductor touched me on the side, Saying: "Speak thou: this one a Latian is."
And I, who had beforehand my reply In readiness, forthwith began to speak: "O soul, that down below there art concealed,
Romagna thine is not and never has been Without war in the bosom of its tyrants; But open war I none have left there now.
Ravenna stands as it long years has stood; The Eagle of Polenta there is brooding, So that she covers Cervia with her vans.
The city which once made the long resistance, And of the French a sanguinary heap, Beneath the Green Paws finds itself again;
Verrucchio's ancient Mastiff and the new, Who made such bad disposal of Montagna, Where they are wont make wimbles of their teeth.
The cities of Lamone and Santerno Governs the Lioncel of the white lair, Who changes sides 'twixt summer-time and winter;
And that of which the Savio bathes the flank, Even as it lies between the plain and mountain, Lives between tyranny and a free state.
Now I entreat thee tell us who thou art; Be not more stubborn than the rest have been, So may thy name hold front there in the world."
After the fire a little more had roared In its own fashion, the sharp point it moved This way and that, and then gave forth such breath:
"If I believed that my reply were made To one who to the world would e'er return, This flame without more flickering would stand still;
But inasmuch as never from this depth Did any one return, if I hear true, Without the fear of infamy I answer,
I was a man of arms, then Cordelier, Believing thus begirt to make amends; And truly my belief had been fulfilled
But for the High Priest, whom may ill betide, Who put me back into my former sins; And how and wherefore I will have thee hear.
While I was still the form of bone and pulp My mother gave to me, the deeds I did Were not those of a lion, but a fox.
The machinations and the covert ways I knew them all, and practised so their craft, That to the ends of earth the sound went forth.
When now unto that portion of mine age I saw myself arrived, when each one ought To lower the sails, and coil away the ropes,
That which before had pleased me then displeased me; And penitent and confessing I surrendered, Ah woe is me! and it would have bestead me;
The Leader of the modern Pharisees Having a war near unto Lateran, And not with Saracens nor with the Jews,
For each one of his enemies was Christian, And none of them had been to conquer Acre, Nor merchandising in the Sultan's land,
Nor the high office, nor the sacred orders, In him regarded, nor in me that cord Which used to make those girt with it more meagre;
But even as Constantine sought out Sylvester To cure his leprosy, within Soracte, So this one sought me out as an adept
To cure him of the fever of his pride. Counsel he asked of me, and I was silent, Because his words appeared inebriate.
And then he said: 'Be not thy heart afraid; Henceforth I thee absolve; and thou instruct me How to raze Palestrina to the ground.
Heaven have I power to lock and to unlock, As thou dost know; therefore the keys are two, The which my predecessor held not dear.'
Then urged me on his weighty arguments There, where my silence was the worst advice; And said I: 'Father, since thou washest me
Of that sin into which I now must fall, The promise long with the fulfilment short Will make thee triumph in thy lofty seat.'
Francis came afterward, when I was dead, For me; but one of the black Cherubim Said to him: 'Take him not; do me no wrong;
He must come down among my servitors, Because he gave the fraudulent advice From which time forth I have been at his hair;
For who repents not cannot be absolved, Nor can one both repent and will at once, Because of the contradiction which consents not.'
O miserable me! how I did shudder When he seized on me, saying: 'Peradventure Thou didst not think that I was a logician!'
He bore me unto Minos, who entwined Eight times his tail about his stubborn back, And after he had bitten it in great rage,
Said: 'Of the thievish fire a culprit this;' Wherefore, here where thou seest, am I lost, And vested thus in going I bemoan me."
When it had thus completed its recital, The flame departed uttering lamentations, Writhing and flapping its sharp-pointed horn.
Onward we passed, both I and my Conductor, Up o'er the crag above another arch, Which the moat covers, where is paid the fee
By those who, sowing discord, win their burden.
Inferno: Canto XXVIII
Who ever could, e'en with untrammelled words, Tell of the blood and of the wounds in full Which now I saw, by many times narrating?
Each tongue would for a certainty fall short By reason of our speech and memory, That have small room to comprehend so much.
If were again assembled all the people Which formerly upon the fateful land Of Puglia were lamenting for their blood
Shed by the Romans and the lingering war That of the rings made such illustrious spoils, As Livy has recorded, who errs not,
With those who felt the agony of blows By making counterstand to Robert Guiscard, And all the rest, whose bones are gathered still
At Ceperano, where a renegade Was each Apulian, and at Tagliacozzo, Where without arms the old Alardo conquered,
And one his limb transpierced, and one lopped off, Should show, it would be nothing to compare With the disgusting mode of the ninth Bolgia.
A cask by losing centre-piece or cant Was never shattered so, as I saw one Rent from the chin to where one breaketh wind.
Between his legs were hanging down his entrails; His heart was visible, and the dismal sack That maketh excrement of what is eaten.
While I was all absorbed in seeing him, He looked at me, and opened with his hands His bosom, saying: "See now how I rend me;
How mutilated, see, is Mahomet; In front of me doth Ali weeping go, Cleft in the face from forelock unto chin;
And all the others whom thou here beholdest, Disseminators of scandal and of schism While living were, and therefore are cleft thus.
A devil is behind here, who doth cleave us Thus cruelly, unto the falchion's edge Putting again each one of all this ream,
When we have gone around the doleful road; By reason that our wounds are closed again Ere any one in front of him repass.
But who art thou, that musest on the crag, Perchance to postpone going to the pain That is adjudged upon thine accusations?"
"Nor death hath reached him yet, nor guilt doth bring him," My Master made reply, "to be tormented; But to procure him full experience,
Me, who am dead, behoves it to conduct him Down here through Hell, from circle unto circle; And this is true as that I speak to thee."
More than a hundred were there when they heard him, Who in the moat stood still to look at me, Through wonderment oblivious of their torture.
"Now say to Fra Dolcino, then, to arm him, Thou, who perhaps wilt shortly see the sun, If soon he wish not here to follow me,
So with provisions, that no stress of snow May give the victory to the Novarese, Which otherwise to gain would not be easy."
After one foot to go away he lifted, This word did Mahomet say unto me, Then to depart upon the ground he stretched it.
Another one, who had his throat pierced through, And nose cut off close underneath the brows, And had no longer but a single ear,
Staying to look in wonder with the others, Before the others did his gullet open, Which outwardly was red in every part,
And said: "O thou, whom guilt doth not condemn, And whom I once saw up in Latian land, Unless too great similitude deceive me,
Call to remembrance Pier da Medicina, If e'er thou see again the lovely plain That from Vercelli slopes to Marcabo,
And make it known to the best two of Fano, To Messer Guido and Angiolello likewise, That if foreseeing here be not in vain,
Cast over from their vessel shall they be, And drowned near unto the Cattolica, By the betrayal of a tyrant fell.
Between the isles of Cyprus and Majorca Neptune ne'er yet beheld so great a crime, Neither of pirates nor Argolic people.
That traitor, who sees only with one eye, And holds the land, which some one here with me Would fain be fasting from the vision of,
Will make them come unto a parley with him; Then will do so, that to Focara's wind They will not stand in need of vow or prayer."
And I to him: "Show to me and declare, If thou wouldst have me bear up news of thee, Who is this person of the bitter vision."
Then did he lay his hand upon the jaw Of one of his companions, and his mouth Oped, crying: "This is he, and he speaks not.
This one, being banished, every doubt submerged In Caesar by affirming the forearmed Always with detriment allowed delay."
O how bewildered unto me appeared, With tongue asunder in his windpipe slit, Curio, who in speaking was so bold!
And one, who both his hands dissevered had, The stumps uplifting through the murky air, So that the blood made horrible his face,
Cried out: "Thou shalt remember Mosca also, Who said, alas! 'A thing done has an end!' Which was an ill seed for the Tuscan people."
"And death unto thy race," thereto I added; Whence he, accumulating woe on woe, Departed, like a person sad and crazed.
But I remained to look upon the crowd; And saw a thing which I should be afraid, Without some further proof, even to recount,
If it were not that conscience reassures me, That good companion which emboldens man Beneath the hauberk of its feeling pure.
I truly saw, and still I seem to see it, A trunk without a head walk in like manner As walked the others of the mournful herd.
And by the hair it held the head dissevered, Hung from the hand in fashion of a lantern, And that upon us gazed and said: "O me!"
It of itself made to itself a lamp, And they were two in one, and one in two; How that can be, He knows who so ordains it.
When it was come close to the bridge's foot, It lifted high its arm with all the head, To bring more closely unto us its words,
Which were: "Behold now the sore penalty, Thou, who dost breathing go the dead beholding; Behold if any be as great as this.
And so that thou may carry news of me, Know that Bertram de Born am I, the same Who gave to the Young King the evil comfort.
I made the father and the son rebellious; Achitophel not more with Absalom And David did with his accursed goadings.
Because I parted persons so united, Parted do I now bear my brain, alas! From its beginning, which is in this trunk.
Thus is observed in me the counterpoise."
Inferno: Canto XXIX
The many people and the divers wounds These eyes of mine had so inebriated, That they were wishful to stand still and weep;
But said Virgilius: "What dost thou still gaze at? Why is thy sight still riveted down there Among the mournful, mutilated shades?
Thou hast not done so at the other Bolge; Consider, if to count them thou believest, That two-and-twenty miles the valley winds,
And now the moon is underneath our feet; Henceforth the time allotted us is brief, And more is to be seen than what thou seest."
"If thou hadst," I made answer thereupon, "Attended to the cause for which I looked, Perhaps a longer stay thou wouldst have pardoned."
Meanwhile my Guide departed, and behind him I went, already making my reply, And superadding: "In that cavern where
I held mine eyes with such attention fixed, I think a spirit of my blood laments The sin which down below there costs so much."
Then said the Master: "Be no longer broken Thy thought from this time forward upon him; Attend elsewhere, and there let him remain;
For him I saw below the little bridge, Pointing at thee, and threatening with his finger Fiercely, and heard him called Geri del Bello.
So wholly at that time wast thou impeded By him who formerly held Altaforte, Thou didst not look that way; so he departed."
"O my Conductor, his own violent death, Which is not yet avenged for him," I said, "By any who is sharer in the shame,
Made him disdainful; whence he went away, As I imagine, without speaking to me, And thereby made me pity him the more."
Thus did we speak as far as the first place Upon the crag, which the next valley shows Down to the bottom, if there were more light.
When we were now right over the last cloister Of Malebolge, so that its lay-brothers Could manifest themselves unto our sight,
Divers lamentings pierced me through and through, Which with compassion had their arrows barbed, Whereat mine ears I covered with my hands.
What pain would be, if from the hospitals Of Valdichiana, 'twixt July and September, And of Maremma and Sardinia
All the diseases in one moat were gathered, Such was it here, and such a stench came from it As from putrescent limbs is wont to issue.
We had descended on the furthest bank From the long crag, upon the left hand still, And then more vivid was my power of sight
Down tow'rds the bottom, where the ministress Of the high Lord, Justice infallible, Punishes forgers, which she here records.
I do not think a sadder sight to see Was in Aegina the whole people sick, (When was the air so full of pestilence,
The animals, down to the little worm, All fell, and afterwards the ancient people, According as the poets have affirmed,
Were from the seed of ants restored again,) Than was it to behold through that dark valley The spirits languishing in divers heaps.
This on the belly, that upon the back One of the other lay, and others crawling Shifted themselves along the dismal road.
We step by step went onward without speech, Gazing upon and listening to the sick Who had not strength enough to lift their bodies.
I saw two sitting leaned against each other, As leans in heating platter against platter, From head to foot bespotted o'er with scabs;
And never saw I plied a currycomb By stable-boy for whom his master waits, Or him who keeps awake unwillingly,
As every one was plying fast the bite Of nails upon himself, for the great rage Of itching which no other succour had.
And the nails downward with them dragged the scab, In fashion as a knife the scales of bream, Or any other fish that has them largest.
"O thou, that with thy fingers dost dismail thee," Began my Leader unto one of them, "And makest of them pincers now and then,
Tell me if any Latian is with those Who are herein; so may thy nails suffice thee To all eternity unto this work."
"Latians are we, whom thou so wasted seest, Both of us here," one weeping made reply; "But who art thou, that questionest about us?"
And said the Guide: "One am I who descends Down with this living man from cliff to cliff, And I intend to show Hell unto him."
Then broken was their mutual support, And trembling each one turned himself to me, With others who had heard him by rebound.
Wholly to me did the good Master gather, Saying: "Say unto them whate'er thou wishest." And I began, since he would have it so:
"So may your memory not steal away In the first world from out the minds of men, But so may it survive 'neath many suns,
Say to me who ye are, and of what people; Let not your foul and loathsome punishment Make you afraid to show yourselves to me."
"I of Arezzo was," one made reply, "And Albert of Siena had me burned; But what I died for does not bring me here.
'Tis true I said to him, speaking in jest, That I could rise by flight into the air, And he who had conceit, but little wit,
Would have me show to him the art; and only Because no Daedalus I made him, made me Be burned by one who held him as his son.
But unto the last Bolgia of the ten, For alchemy, which in the world I practised, Minos, who cannot err, has me condemned."
And to the Poet said I: "Now was ever So vain a people as the Sienese? Not for a certainty the French by far."
Whereat the other leper, who had heard me, Replied unto my speech: "Taking out Stricca, Who knew the art of moderate expenses,
And Niccolo, who the luxurious use Of cloves discovered earliest of all Within that garden where such seed takes root;
And taking out the band, among whom squandered Caccia d'Ascian his vineyards and vast woods, And where his wit the Abbagliato proffered!
But, that thou know who thus doth second thee Against the Sienese, make sharp thine eye Tow'rds me, so that my face well answer thee,
And thou shalt see I am Capocchio's shade, Who metals falsified by alchemy; Thou must remember, if I well descry thee,
How I a skilful ape of nature was."
Inferno: Canto XXX
'Twas at the time when Juno was enraged, For Semele, against the Theban blood, As she already more than once had shown,
So reft of reason Athamas became, That, seeing his own wife with children twain Walking encumbered upon either hand,
He cried: "Spread out the nets, that I may take The lioness and her whelps upon the passage;" And then extended his unpitying claws,
Seizing the first, who had the name Learchus, And whirled him round, and dashed him on a rock; And she, with the other burthen, drowned herself;--
And at the time when fortune downward hurled The Trojan's arrogance, that all things dared, So that the king was with his kingdom crushed,
Hecuba sad, disconsolate, and captive, When lifeless she beheld Polyxena, And of her Polydorus on the shore
Of ocean was the dolorous one aware, Out of her senses like a dog she barked, So much the anguish had her mind distorted;
But not of Thebes the furies nor the Trojan Were ever seen in any one so cruel In goading beasts, and much more human members,
As I beheld two shadows pale and naked, Who, biting, in the manner ran along That a boar does, when from the sty turned loose.
One to Capocchio came, and by the nape Seized with its teeth his neck, so that in dragging It made his belly grate the solid bottom.
And the Aretine, who trembling had remained, Said to me: "That mad sprite is Gianni Schicchi, And raving goes thus harrying other people."
"O," said I to him, "so may not the other Set teeth on thee, let it not weary thee To tell us who it is, ere it dart hence."
And he to me: "That is the ancient ghost Of the nefarious Myrrha, who became Beyond all rightful love her father's lover.
She came to sin with him after this manner, By counterfeiting of another's form; As he who goeth yonder undertook,
That he might gain the lady of the herd, To counterfeit in himself Buoso Donati, Making a will and giving it due form."
And after the two maniacs had passed On whom I held mine eye, I turned it back To look upon the other evil-born.
I saw one made in fashion of a lute, If he had only had the groin cut off Just at the point at which a man is forked.
The heavy dropsy, that so disproportions The limbs with humours, which it ill concocts, That the face corresponds not to the belly,
Compelled him so to hold his lips apart As does the hectic, who because of thirst One tow'rds the chin, the other upward turns.
"O ye, who without any torment are, And why I know not, in the world of woe," He said to us, "behold, and be attentive
Unto the misery of Master Adam; I had while living much of what I wished, And now, alas! a drop of water crave.
The rivulets, that from the verdant hills Of Cassentin descend down into Arno, Making their channels to be cold and moist,
Ever before me stand, and not in vain; For far more doth their image dry me up Than the disease which strips my face of flesh.
The rigid justice that chastises me Draweth occasion from the place in which I sinned, to put the more my sighs in flight.
There is Romena, where I counterfeited The currency imprinted with the Baptist, For which I left my body burned above.
But if I here could see the tristful soul Of Guido, or Alessandro, or their brother, For Branda's fount I would not give the sight.
One is within already, if the raving Shades that are going round about speak truth; But what avails it me, whose limbs are tied?
If I were only still so light, that in A hundred years I could advance one inch, I had already started on the way,
Seeking him out among this squalid folk, Although the circuit be eleven miles, And be not less than half a mile across.
For them am I in such a family; They did induce me into coining florins, Which had three carats of impurity."
And I to him: "Who are the two poor wretches That smoke like unto a wet hand in winter, Lying there close upon thy right-hand confines?"
"I found them here," replied he, "when I rained Into this chasm, and since they have not turned, Nor do I think they will for evermore.
One the false woman is who accused Joseph, The other the false Sinon, Greek of Troy; From acute fever they send forth such reek."
And one of them, who felt himself annoyed At being, peradventure, named so darkly, Smote with the fist upon his hardened paunch.
It gave a sound, as if it were a drum; And Master Adam smote him in the face, With arm that did not seem to be less hard,
Saying to him: "Although be taken from me All motion, for my limbs that heavy are, I have an arm unfettered for such need."
Whereat he answer made: "When thou didst go Unto the fire, thou hadst it not so ready: But hadst it so and more when thou wast coining."
The dropsical: "Thou sayest true in that; But thou wast not so true a witness there, Where thou wast questioned of the truth at Troy."
"If I spake false, thou falsifiedst the coin," Said Sinon; "and for one fault I am here, And thou for more than any other demon."
"Remember, perjurer, about the horse," He made reply who had the swollen belly, "And rueful be it thee the whole world knows it."
"Rueful to thee the thirst be wherewith cracks Thy tongue," the Greek said, "and the putrid water That hedges so thy paunch before thine eyes."
Then the false-coiner: "So is gaping wide Thy mouth for speaking evil, as 'tis wont; Because if I have thirst, and humour stuff me
Thou hast the burning and the head that aches, And to lick up the mirror of Narcissus Thou wouldst not want words many to invite thee."
In listening to them was I wholly fixed, When said the Master to me: "Now just look, For little wants it that I quarrel with thee."
When him I heard in anger speak to me, I turned me round towards him with such shame That still it eddies through my memory.
And as he is who dreams of his own harm, Who dreaming wishes it may be a dream, So that he craves what is, as if it were not;
Such I became, not having power to speak, For to excuse myself I wished, and still Excused myself, and did not think I did it.
"Less shame doth wash away a greater fault," The Master said, "than this of thine has been; Therefore thyself disburden of all sadness,
And make account that I am aye beside thee, If e'er it come to pass that fortune bring thee Where there are people in a like dispute;
For a base wish it is to wish to hear it."
Inferno: Canto XXXI
One and the selfsame tongue first wounded me, So that it tinged the one cheek and the other, And then held out to me the medicine;
Thus do I hear that once Achilles' spear, His and his father's, used to be the cause First of a sad and then a gracious boon.
We turned our backs upon the wretched valley, Upon the bank that girds it round about, Going across it without any speech.
There it was less than night, and less than day, So that my sight went little in advance; But I could hear the blare of a loud horn,
So loud it would have made each thunder faint, Which, counter to it following its way, Mine eyes directed wholly to one place.
After the dolorous discomfiture When Charlemagne the holy emprise lost, So terribly Orlando sounded not.
Short while my head turned thitherward I held When many lofty towers I seemed to see, Whereat I: "Master, say, what town is this?"
And he to me: "Because thou peerest forth Athwart the darkness at too great a distance, It happens that thou errest in thy fancy.
Well shalt thou see, if thou arrivest there, How much the sense deceives itself by distance; Therefore a little faster spur thee on."
Then tenderly he took me by the hand, And said: "Before we farther have advanced, That the reality may seem to thee
Less strange, know that these are not towers, but giants, And they are in the well, around the bank, From navel downward, one and all of them."
As, when the fog is vanishing away, Little by little doth the sight refigure Whate'er the mist that crowds the air conceals,
So, piercing through the dense and darksome air, More and more near approaching tow'rd the verge, My error fled, and fear came over me;
Because as on its circular parapets Montereggione crowns itself with towers, E'en thus the margin which surrounds the well
With one half of their bodies turreted The horrible giants, whom Jove menaces E'en now from out the heavens when he thunders.
And I of one already saw the face, Shoulders, and breast, and great part of the belly, And down along his sides both of the arms.
Certainly Nature, when she left the making Of animals like these, did well indeed, By taking such executors from Mars;
And if of elephants and whales she doth not Repent her, whosoever looketh subtly More just and more discreet will hold her for it;
For where the argument of intellect Is added unto evil will and power, No rampart can the people make against it.
His face appeared to me as long and large As is at Rome the pine-cone of Saint Peter's, And in proportion were the other bones;
So that the margin, which an apron was Down from the middle, showed so much of him Above it, that to reach up to his hair
Three Frieslanders in vain had vaunted them; For I beheld thirty great palms of him Down from the place where man his mantle buckles.
"Raphael mai amech izabi almi," Began to clamour the ferocious mouth, To which were not befitting sweeter psalms.
And unto him my Guide: "Soul idiotic, Keep to thy horn, and vent thyself with that, When wrath or other passion touches thee.
Search round thy neck, and thou wilt find the belt Which keeps it fastened, O bewildered soul, And see it, where it bars thy mighty breast."
Then said to me: "He doth himself accuse; This one is Nimrod, by whose evil thought One language in the world is not still used.
Here let us leave him and not speak in vain; For even such to him is every language As his to others, which to none is known."
Therefore a longer journey did we make, Turned to the left, and a crossbow-shot oft We found another far more fierce and large.
In binding him, who might the master be I cannot say; but he had pinioned close Behind the right arm, and in front the other,
With chains, that held him so begirt about From the neck down, that on the part uncovered It wound itself as far as the fifth gyre.
"This proud one wished to make experiment Of his own power against the Supreme Jove," My Leader said, "whence he has such a guerdon.
Ephialtes is his name; he showed great prowess. What time the giants terrified the gods; The arms he wielded never more he moves."
And I to him: "If possible, I should wish That of the measureless Briareus These eyes of mine might have experience."
Whence he replied: "Thou shalt behold Antaeus Close by here, who can speak and is unbound, Who at the bottom of all crime shall place us.
Much farther yon is he whom thou wouldst see, And he is bound, and fashioned like to this one, Save that he seems in aspect more ferocious."
There never was an earthquake of such might That it could shake a tower so violently, As Ephialtes suddenly shook himself.
Then was I more afraid of death than ever, For nothing more was needful than the fear, If I had not beheld the manacles.
Then we proceeded farther in advance, And to Antaeus came, who, full five ells Without the head, forth issued from the cavern.
"O thou, who in the valley fortunate, Which Scipio the heir of glory made, When Hannibal turned back with all his hosts,
Once brought'st a thousand lions for thy prey, And who, hadst thou been at the mighty war Among thy brothers, some it seems still think
The sons of Earth the victory would have gained: Place us below, nor be disdainful of it, There where the cold doth lock Cocytus up.
Make us not go to Tityus nor Typhoeus; This one can give of that which here is longed for; Therefore stoop down, and do not curl thy lip.
Still in the world can he restore thy fame; Because he lives, and still expects long life, If to itself Grace call him not untimely."
So said the Master; and in haste the other His hands extended and took up my Guide,-- Hands whose great pressure Hercules once felt.
Virgilius, when he felt himself embraced, Said unto me: "Draw nigh, that I may take thee;" Then of himself and me one bundle made.
As seems the Carisenda, to behold Beneath the leaning side, when goes a cloud Above it so that opposite it hangs;
Such did Antaeus seem to me, who stood Watching to see him stoop, and then it was I could have wished to go some other way.
But lightly in the abyss, which swallows up Judas with Lucifer, he put us down; Nor thus bowed downward made he there delay,
But, as a mast does in a ship, uprose.
Inferno: Canto XXXII
If I had rhymes both rough and stridulous, As were appropriate to the dismal hole Down upon which thrust all the other rocks,
I would press out the juice of my conception More fully; but because I have them not, Not without fear I bring myself to speak;
For 'tis no enterprise to take in jest, To sketch the bottom of all the universe, Nor for a tongue that cries Mamma and Babbo.
But may those Ladies help this verse of mine, Who helped Amphion in enclosing Thebes, That from the fact the word be not diverse.
O rabble ill-begotten above all, Who're in the place to speak of which is hard, 'Twere better ye had here been sheep or goats!
When we were down within the darksome well, Beneath the giant's feet, but lower far, And I was scanning still the lofty wall,
I heard it said to me: "Look how thou steppest! Take heed thou do not trample with thy feet The heads of the tired, miserable brothers!"
Whereat I turned me round, and saw before me And underfoot a lake, that from the frost The semblance had of glass, and not of water.
So thick a veil ne'er made upon its current In winter-time Danube in Austria, Nor there beneath the frigid sky the Don,
As there was here; so that if Tambernich Had fallen upon it, or Pietrapana, E'en at the edge 'twould not have given a creak.
And as to croak the frog doth place himself With muzzle out of water,--when is dreaming Of gleaning oftentimes the peasant-girl,--
Livid, as far down as where shame appears, Were the disconsolate shades within the ice, Setting their teeth unto the note of storks.
Each one his countenance held downward bent; From mouth the cold, from eyes the doleful heart Among them witness of itself procures.
When round about me somewhat I had looked, I downward turned me, and saw two so close, The hair upon their heads together mingled.
"Ye who so strain your breasts together, tell me," I said, "who are you;" and they bent their necks, And when to me their faces they had lifted,
Their eyes, which first were only moist within, Gushed o'er the eyelids, and the frost congealed The tears between, and locked them up again.
Clamp never bound together wood with wood So strongly; whereat they, like two he-goats, Butted together, so much wrath o'ercame them.
And one, who had by reason of the cold Lost both his ears, still with his visage downward, Said: "Why dost thou so mirror thyself in us?
If thou desire to know who these two are, The valley whence Bisenzio descends Belonged to them and to their father Albert.
They from one body came, and all Caina Thou shalt search through, and shalt not find a shade More worthy to be fixed in gelatine;
Not he in whom were broken breast and shadow At one and the same blow by Arthur's hand; Focaccia not; not he who me encumbers
So with his head I see no farther forward, And bore the name of Sassol Mascheroni; Well knowest thou who he was, if thou art Tuscan.
And that thou put me not to further speech, Know that I Camicion de' Pazzi was, And wait Carlino to exonerate me."
Then I beheld a thousand faces, made Purple with cold; whence o'er me comes a shudder, And evermore will come, at frozen ponds.
And while we were advancing tow'rds the middle, Where everything of weight unites together, And I was shivering in the eternal shade,
Whether 'twere will, or destiny, or chance, I know not; but in walking 'mong the heads I struck my foot hard in the face of one.
Weeping he growled: "Why dost thou trample me? Unless thou comest to increase the vengeance of Montaperti, why dost thou molest me?"
And I: "My Master, now wait here for me, That I through him may issue from a doubt; Then thou mayst hurry me, as thou shalt wish."
The Leader stopped; and to that one I said Who was blaspheming vehemently still: "Who art thou, that thus reprehendest others?"
"Now who art thou, that goest through Antenora Smiting," replied he, "other people's cheeks, So that, if thou wert living, 'twere too much?"
"Living I am, and dear to thee it may be," Was my response, "if thou demandest fame, That 'mid the other notes thy name I place."
And he to me: "For the reverse I long; Take thyself hence, and give me no more trouble; For ill thou knowest to flatter in this hollow."
Then by the scalp behind I seized upon him, And said: "It must needs be thou name thyself, Or not a hair remain upon thee here."
Whence he to me: "Though thou strip off my hair, I will not tell thee who I am, nor show thee, If on my head a thousand times thou fall."
I had his hair in hand already twisted, And more than one shock of it had pulled out, He barking, with his eyes held firmly down,
When cried another: "What doth ail thee, Bocca? Is't not enough to clatter with thy jaws, But thou must bark? what devil touches thee?"
"Now," said I, "I care not to have thee speak, Accursed traitor; for unto thy shame I will report of thee veracious news."
"Begone," replied he, "and tell what thou wilt, But be not silent, if thou issue hence, Of him who had just now his tongue so prompt;
He weepeth here the silver of the French; 'I saw,' thus canst thou phrase it, 'him of Duera There where the sinners stand out in the cold.'
If thou shouldst questioned be who else was there, Thou hast beside thee him of Beccaria, Of whom the gorget Florence slit asunder;
Gianni del Soldanier, I think, may be Yonder with Ganellon, and Tebaldello Who oped Faenza when the people slep."
Already we had gone away from him, When I beheld two frozen in one hole, So that one head a hood was to the other;
And even as bread through hunger is devoured, The uppermost on the other set his teeth, There where the brain is to the nape united.
Not in another fashion Tydeus gnawed The temples of Menalippus in disdain, Than that one did the skull and the other things.
"O thou, who showest by such bestial sign Thy hatred against him whom thou art eating, Tell me the wherefore," said I, "with this compact,
That if thou rightfully of him complain, In knowing who ye are, and his transgression, I in the world above repay thee for it,
If that wherewith I speak be not dried up."
Inferno: Canto XXXIII
His mouth uplifted from his grim repast, That sinner, wiping it upon the hair Of the same head that he behind had wasted.
Then he began: "Thou wilt that I renew The desperate grief, which wrings my heart already To think of only, ere I speak of it;
But if my words be seed that may bear fruit Of infamy to the traitor whom I gnaw, Speaking and weeping shalt thou see together.
I know not who thou art, nor by what mode Thou hast come down here; but a Florentine Thou seemest to me truly, when I hear thee.
Thou hast to know I was Count Ugolino, And this one was Ruggieri the Archbishop; Now I will tell thee why I am such a neighbour.
That, by effect of his malicious thoughts, Trusting in him I was made prisoner, And after put to death, I need not say;
But ne'ertheless what thou canst not have heard, That is to say, how cruel was my death, Hear shalt thou, and shalt know if he has wronged me.
A narrow perforation in the mew, Which bears because of me the title of Famine, And in which others still must be locked up,
Had shown me through its opening many moons Already, when I dreamed the evil dream Which of the future rent for me the veil.
This one appeared to me as lord and master, Hunting the wolf and whelps upon the mountain For which the Pisans cannot Lucca see.
With sleuth-hounds gaunt, and eager, and well trained, Gualandi with Sismondi and Lanfianchi He had sent out before him to the front.
After brief course seemed unto me forespent The father and the sons, and with sharp tushes It seemed to me I saw their flanks ripped open.
When I before the morrow was awake, Moaning amid their sleep I heard my sons Who with me were, and asking after bread.
Cruel indeed art thou, if yet thou grieve not, Thinking of what my heart foreboded me, And weep'st thou not, what art thou wont to weep at?
They were awake now, and the hour drew nigh At which our food used to be brought to us, And through his dream was each one apprehensive;
And I heard locking up the under door Of the horrible tower; whereat without a word I gazed into the faces of my sons.
I wept not, I within so turned to stone; They wept; and darling little Anselm mine Said: 'Thou dost gaze so, father, what doth ail thee?'
Still not a tear I shed, nor answer made All of that day, nor yet the night thereafter, Until another sun rose on the world.
As now a little glimmer made its way Into the dolorous prison, and I saw Upon four faces my own very aspect,
Both of my hands in agony I bit; And, thinking that I did it from desire Of eating, on a sudden they uprose,
And said they: 'Father, much less pain 'twill give us If thou do eat of us; thyself didst clothe us With this poor flesh, and do thou strip it off.'
I calmed me then, not to make them more sad. That day we all were silent, and the next. Ah! obdurate earth, wherefore didst thou not open?
When we had come unto the fourth day, Gaddo Threw himself down outstretched before my feet, Saying, 'My father, why dost thou not help me?'
And there he died; and, as thou seest me, I saw the three fall, one by one, between The fifth day and the sixth; whence I betook me,
Already blind, to groping over each, And three days called them after they were dead; Then hunger did what sorrow could not do."
When he had said this, with his eyes distorted, The wretched skull resumed he with his teeth, Which, as a dog's, upon the bone were strong.
Ah! Pisa, thou opprobrium of the people Of the fair land there where the 'Si' doth sound, Since slow to punish thee thy neighbours are,
Let the Capraia and Gorgona move, And make a hedge across the mouth of Arno That every person in thee it may drown!
For if Count Ugolino had the fame Of having in thy castles thee betrayed, Thou shouldst not on such cross have put his sons.
Guiltless of any crime, thou modern Thebes! Their youth made Uguccione and Brigata, And the other two my song doth name above!
We passed still farther onward, where the ice Another people ruggedly enswathes, Not downward turned, but all of them reversed.
Weeping itself there does not let them weep, And grief that finds a barrier in the eyes Turns itself inward to increase the anguish;
Because the earliest tears a cluster form, And, in the manner of a crystal visor, Fill all the cup beneath the eyebrow full.
And notwithstanding that, as in a callus, Because of cold all sensibility Its station had abandoned in my face,
Still it appeared to me I felt some wind; Whence I: "My Master, who sets this in motion? Is not below here every vapour quenched?"
Whence he to me: "Full soon shalt thou be where Thine eye shall answer make to thee of this, Seeing the cause which raineth down the blast."
And one of the wretches of the frozen crust Cried out to us: "O souls so merciless That the last post is given unto you,
Lift from mine eyes the rigid veils, that I May vent the sorrow which impregns my heart A little, e'er the weeping recongeal."
Whence I to him: "If thou wouldst have me help thee Say who thou wast; and if I free thee not, May I go to the bottom of the ice."
Then he replied: "I am Friar Alberigo; He am I of the fruit of the bad garden, Who here a date am getting for my fig."
"O," said I to him, "now art thou, too, dead?" And he to me: "How may my body fare Up in the world, no knowledge I possess.
Such an advantage has this Ptolomaea, That oftentimes the soul descendeth here Sooner than Atropos in motion sets it.
And, that thou mayest more willingly remove From off my countenance these glassy tears, Know that as soon as any soul betrays
As I have done, his body by a demon Is taken from him, who thereafter rules it, Until his time has wholly been revolved.
Itself down rushes into such a cistern; And still perchance above appears the body Of yonder shade, that winters here behind me.
This thou shouldst know, if thou hast just come down; It is Ser Branca d' Oria, and many years Have passed away since he was thus locked up."
"I think," said I to him, "thou dost deceive me; For Branca d' Oria is not dead as yet, And eats, and drinks, and sleeps, and puts on clothes."
"In moat above," said he, "of Malebranche, There where is boiling the tenacious pitch, As yet had Michel Zanche not arrived,
When this one left a devil in his stead In his own body and one near of kin, Who made together with him the betrayal.
But hitherward stretch out thy hand forthwith, Open mine eyes;"--and open them I did not, And to be rude to him was courtesy.
Ah, Genoese! ye men at variance With every virtue, full of every vice Wherefore are ye not scattered from the world?
For with the vilest spirit of Romagna I found of you one such, who for his deeds In soul already in Cocytus bathes,
And still above in body seems alive!
Inferno: Canto XXXIV
"'Vexilla Regis prodeunt Inferni' Towards us; therefore look in front of thee," My Master said, "if thou discernest him."
As, when there breathes a heavy fog, or when Our hemisphere is darkening into night, Appears far off a mill the wind is turning,
Methought that such a building then I saw; And, for the wind, I drew myself behind My Guide, because there was no other shelter.
Now was I, and with fear in verse I put it, There where the shades were wholly covered up, And glimmered through like unto straws in glass.
Some prone are lying, others stand erect, This with the head, and that one with the soles; Another, bow-like, face to feet inverts.
When in advance so far we had proceeded, That it my Master pleased to show to me The creature who once had the beauteous semblance,
He from before me moved and made me stop, Saying: "Behold Dis, and behold the place Where thou with fortitude must arm thyself."
How frozen I became and powerless then, Ask it not, Reader, for I write it not, Because all language would be insufficient.
I did not die, and I alive remained not; Think for thyself now, hast thou aught of wit, What I became, being of both deprived.
The Emperor of the kingdom dolorous From his mid-breast forth issued from the ice; And better with a giant I compare
Than do the giants with those arms of his; Consider now how great must be that whole, Which unto such a part conforms itself.
Were he as fair once, as he now is foul, And lifted up his brow against his Maker, Well may proceed from him all tribulation.
O, what a marvel it appeared to me, When I beheld three faces on his head! The one in front, and that vermilion was;
Two were the others, that were joined with this Above the middle part of either shoulder, And they were joined together at the crest;
And the right-hand one seemed 'twixt white and yellow; The left was such to look upon as those Who come from where the Nile falls valley-ward.
Underneath each came forth two mighty wings, Such as befitting were so great a bird; Sails of the sea I never saw so large.
No feathers had they, but as of a bat Their fashion was; and he was waving them, So that three winds proceeded forth therefrom.
Thereby Cocytus wholly was congealed. With six eyes did he weep, and down three chins Trickled the tear-drops and the bloody drivel.
At every mouth he with his teeth was crunching A sinner, in the manner of a brake, So that he three of them tormented thus.
To him in front the biting was as naught Unto the clawing, for sometimes the spine Utterly stripped of all the skin remained.
"That soul up there which has the greatest pain," The Master said, "is Judas Iscariot; With head inside, he plies his legs without.
Of the two others, who head downward are, The one who hangs from the black jowl is Brutus; See how he writhes himself, and speaks no word.
And the other, who so stalwart seems, is Cassius. But night is reascending, and 'tis time That we depart, for we have seen the whole."
As seemed him good, I clasped him round the neck, And he the vantage seized of time and place, And when the wings were opened wide apart,
He laid fast hold upon the shaggy sides; From fell to fell descended downward then Between the thick hair and the frozen crust.
When we were come to where the thigh revolves Exactly on the thickness of the haunch, The Guide, with labour and with hard-drawn breath,
Turned round his head where he had had his legs, And grappled to the hair, as one who mounts, So that to Hell I thought we were returning.
"Keep fast thy hold, for by such stairs as these," The Master said, panting as one fatigued, "Must we perforce depart from so much evil."
Then through the opening of a rock he issued, And down upon the margin seated me; Then tow'rds me he outstretched his wary step.
I lifted up mine eyes and thought to see Lucifer in the same way I had left him; And I beheld him upward hold his legs.
And if I then became disquieted, Let stolid people think who do not see What the point is beyond which I had passed.
"Rise up," the Master said, "upon thy feet; The way is long, and difficult the road, And now the sun to middle-tierce returns."
It was not any palace corridor There where we were, but dungeon natural, With floor uneven and unease of light.
"Ere from the abyss I tear myself away, My Master," said I when I had arisen, "To draw me from an error speak a little;
Where is the ice? and how is this one fixed Thus upside down? and how in such short time From eve to morn has the sun made his transit?"
And he to me: "Thou still imaginest Thou art beyond the centre, where I grasped The hair of the fell worm, who mines the world.
That side thou wast, so long as I descended; When round I turned me, thou didst pass the point To which things heavy draw from every side,
And now beneath the hemisphere art come Opposite that which overhangs the vast Dry-land, and 'neath whose cope was put to death
The Man who without sin was born and lived. Thou hast thy feet upon the little sphere Which makes the other face of the Judecca.
Here it is morn when it is evening there; And he who with his hair a stairway made us Still fixed remaineth as he was before.
Upon this side he fell down out of heaven; And all the land, that whilom here emerged, For fear of him made of the sea a veil,
And came to our hemisphere; and peradventure To flee from him, what on this side appears Left the place vacant here, and back recoiled."
A place there is below, from Beelzebub As far receding as the tomb extends, Which not by sight is known, but by the sound
Of a small rivulet, that there descendeth Through chasm within the stone, which it has gnawed With course that winds about and slightly falls.
The Guide and I into that hidden road Now entered, to return to the bright world; And without care of having any rest
We mounted up, he first and I the second, Till I beheld through a round aperture Some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear;
Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars. |
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita mi ritrovai per una selva oscura che' la diritta via era smarrita.
Ahi quanto a dir qual era e` cosa dura esta selva selvaggia e aspra e forte che nel pensier rinova la paura!
Tant'e` amara che poco e` piu` morte; ma per trattar del ben ch'i' vi trovai, diro` de l'altre cose ch'i' v'ho scorte.
Io non so ben ridir com'i' v'intrai, tant'era pien di sonno a quel punto che la verace via abbandonai.
Ma poi ch'i' fui al pie` d'un colle giunto, la` dove terminava quella valle che m'avea di paura il cor compunto,
guardai in alto, e vidi le sue spalle vestite gia` de' raggi del pianeta che mena dritto altrui per ogne calle.
Allor fu la paura un poco queta che nel lago del cor m'era durata la notte ch'i' passai con tanta pieta.
E come quei che con lena affannata uscito fuor del pelago a la riva si volge a l'acqua perigliosa e guata,
cosi` l'animo mio, ch'ancor fuggiva, si volse a retro a rimirar lo passo che non lascio` gia` mai persona viva.
Poi ch'ei posato un poco il corpo lasso, ripresi via per la piaggia diserta, si` che 'l pie` fermo sempre era 'l piu` basso.
Ed ecco, quasi al cominciar de l'erta, una lonza leggera e presta molto, che di pel macolato era coverta;
e non mi si partia dinanzi al volto, anzi 'mpediva tanto il mio cammino, ch'i' fui per ritornar piu` volte volto.
Temp'era dal principio del mattino, e 'l sol montava 'n su` con quelle stelle ch'eran con lui quando l'amor divino
mosse di prima quelle cose belle; si` ch'a bene sperar m'era cagione di quella fiera a la gaetta pelle
l'ora del tempo e la dolce stagione; ma non si` che paura non mi desse la vista che m'apparve d'un leone.
Questi parea che contra me venisse con la test'alta e con rabbiosa fame, si` che parea che l'aere ne tremesse.
Ed una lupa, che di tutte brame sembiava carca ne la sua magrezza, e molte genti fe' gia` viver grame,
questa mi porse tanto di gravezza con la paura ch'uscia di sua vista, ch'io perdei la speranza de l'altezza.
E qual e` quei che volontieri acquista, e giugne 'l tempo che perder lo face, che 'n tutt'i suoi pensier piange e s'attrista;
tal mi fece la bestia sanza pace, che, venendomi 'ncontro, a poco a poco mi ripigneva la` dove 'l sol tace.
Mentre ch'i' rovinava in basso loco, dinanzi a li occhi mi si fu offerto chi per lungo silenzio parea fioco.
Quando vidi costui nel gran diserto, “Miserere di me”, gridai a lui, “qual che tu sii, od ombra od omo certo!”.
Rispuosemi: “Non omo, omo gia` fui, e li parenti miei furon lombardi, mantoani per patria ambedui.
Nacqui sub Iulio, ancor che fosse tardi, e vissi a Roma sotto 'l buono Augusto nel tempo de li dei falsi e bugiardi.
Poeta fui, e cantai di quel giusto figliuol d'Anchise che venne di Troia, poi che 'l superbo Ilion fu combusto.
Ma tu perche' ritorni a tanta noia? perche' non sali il dilettoso monte ch'e` principio e cagion di tutta gioia?”.
“Or se' tu quel Virgilio e quella fonte che spandi di parlar si` largo fiume?”, rispuos'io lui con vergognosa fronte.
“O de li altri poeti onore e lume vagliami 'l lungo studio e 'l grande amore che m'ha fatto cercar lo tuo volume.
Tu se' lo mio maestro e 'l mio autore; tu se' solo colui da cu' io tolsi lo bello stilo che m'ha fatto onore.
Vedi la bestia per cu' io mi volsi: aiutami da lei, famoso saggio, ch'ella mi fa tremar le vene e i polsi”.
“A te convien tenere altro viaggio”, rispuose poi che lagrimar mi vide, “se vuo' campar d'esto loco selvaggio:
che' questa bestia, per la qual tu gride, non lascia altrui passar per la sua via, ma tanto lo 'mpedisce che l'uccide;
e ha natura si` malvagia e ria, che mai non empie la bramosa voglia, e dopo 'l pasto ha piu` fame che pria.
Molti son li animali a cui s'ammoglia, e piu` saranno ancora, infin che 'l veltro verra`, che la fara` morir con doglia.
Questi non cibera` terra ne' peltro, ma sapienza, amore e virtute, e sua nazion sara` tra feltro e feltro.
Di quella umile Italia fia salute per cui mori` la vergine Cammilla, Eurialo e Turno e Niso di ferute.
Questi la caccera` per ogne villa, fin che l'avra` rimessa ne lo 'nferno, la` onde 'nvidia prima dipartilla.
Ond'io per lo tuo me' penso e discerno che tu mi segui, e io saro` tua guida, e trarrotti di qui per loco etterno,
ove udirai le disperate strida, vedrai li antichi spiriti dolenti, ch'a la seconda morte ciascun grida;
e vederai color che son contenti nel foco, perche' speran di venire quando che sia a le beate genti.
A le quai poi se tu vorrai salire, anima fia a cio` piu` di me degna: con lei ti lascero` nel mio partire;
che' quello imperador che la` su` regna, perch'i' fu' ribellante a la sua legge, non vuol che 'n sua citta` per me si vegna.
In tutte parti impera e quivi regge; quivi e` la sua citta` e l'alto seggio: oh felice colui cu' ivi elegge!”.
E io a lui: “Poeta, io ti richeggio per quello Dio che tu non conoscesti, accio` ch'io fugga questo male e peggio,
che tu mi meni la` dov'or dicesti, si` ch'io veggia la porta di san Pietro e color cui tu fai cotanto mesti”.
Allor si mosse, e io li tenni dietro.
Lo giorno se n'andava, e l'aere bruno toglieva li animai che sono in terra da le fatiche loro; e io sol uno
m'apparecchiava a sostener la guerra si` del cammino e si` de la pietate, che ritrarra` la mente che non erra.
O muse, o alto ingegno, or m'aiutate; o mente che scrivesti cio` ch'io vidi, qui si parra` la tua nobilitate.
Io cominciai: “Poeta che mi guidi, guarda la mia virtu` s'ell'e` possente, prima ch'a l'alto passo tu mi fidi.
Tu dici che di Silvio il parente, corruttibile ancora, ad immortale secolo ando`, e fu sensibilmente.
Pero`, se l'avversario d'ogne male cortese i fu, pensando l'alto effetto ch'uscir dovea di lui e 'l chi e 'l quale,
non pare indegno ad omo d'intelletto; ch'e' fu de l'alma Roma e di suo impero ne l'empireo ciel per padre eletto:
la quale e 'l quale, a voler dir lo vero, fu stabilita per lo loco santo u' siede il successor del maggior Piero.
Per quest'andata onde li dai tu vanto, intese cose che furon cagione di sua vittoria e del papale ammanto.
Andovvi poi lo Vas d'elezione, per recarne conforto a quella fede ch'e` principio a la via di salvazione.
Ma io perche' venirvi? o chi 'l concede? Io non Enea, io non Paulo sono: me degno a cio` ne' io ne' altri 'l crede.
Per che, se del venire io m'abbandono, temo che la venuta non sia folle. Se' savio; intendi me' ch'i' non ragiono”.
E qual e` quei che disvuol cio` che volle e per novi pensier cangia proposta, si` che dal cominciar tutto si tolle,
tal mi fec'io 'n quella oscura costa, perche', pensando, consumai la 'mpresa che fu nel cominciar cotanto tosta.
“S'i' ho ben la parola tua intesa”, rispuose del magnanimo quell'ombra; “l'anima tua e` da viltade offesa;
la qual molte fiate l'omo ingombra si` che d'onrata impresa lo rivolve, come falso veder bestia quand'ombra.
Da questa tema accio` che tu ti solve, dirotti perch'io venni e quel ch'io 'ntesi nel primo punto che di te mi dolve.
Io era tra color che son sospesi, e donna mi chiamo` beata e bella, tal che di comandare io la richiesi.
Lucevan li occhi suoi piu` che la stella; e cominciommi a dir soave e piana, con angelica voce, in sua favella:
"O anima cortese mantoana, di cui la fama ancor nel mondo dura, e durera` quanto 'l mondo lontana,
l'amico mio, e non de la ventura, ne la diserta piaggia e` impedito si` nel cammin, che volt'e` per paura;
e temo che non sia gia` si` smarrito, ch'io mi sia tardi al soccorso levata, per quel ch'i' ho di lui nel cielo udito.
Or movi, e con la tua parola ornata e con cio` c'ha mestieri al suo campare l'aiuta, si` ch'i' ne sia consolata.
I' son Beatrice che ti faccio andare; vegno del loco ove tornar disio; amor mi mosse, che mi fa parlare.
Quando saro` dinanzi al segnor mio, di te mi lodero` sovente a lui". Tacette allora, e poi comincia' io:
"O donna di virtu`, sola per cui l'umana spezie eccede ogne contento di quel ciel c'ha minor li cerchi sui,
tanto m'aggrada il tuo comandamento, che l'ubidir, se gia` fosse, m'e` tardi; piu` non t'e` uo' ch'aprirmi il tuo talento.
Ma dimmi la cagion che non ti guardi de lo scender qua giuso in questo centro de l'ampio loco ove tornar tu ardi".
"Da che tu vuo' saver cotanto a dentro, dirotti brievemente", mi rispuose, "perch'io non temo di venir qua entro.
Temer si dee di sole quelle cose c'hanno potenza di fare altrui male; de l'altre no, che' non son paurose.
I' son fatta da Dio, sua merce', tale, che la vostra miseria non mi tange, ne' fiamma d'esto incendio non m'assale.
Donna e` gentil nel ciel che si compiange di questo 'mpedimento ov'io ti mando, si` che duro giudicio la` su` frange.
Questa chiese Lucia in suo dimando e disse: - Or ha bisogno il tuo fedele di te, e io a te lo raccomando -.
Lucia, nimica di ciascun crudele, si mosse, e venne al loco dov'i' era, che mi sedea con l'antica Rachele.
Disse: - Beatrice, loda di Dio vera, che' non soccorri quei che t'amo` tanto, ch'usci` per te de la volgare schiera?
non odi tu la pieta del suo pianto? non vedi tu la morte che 'l combatte su la fiumana ove 'l mar non ha vanto? -.
Al mondo non fur mai persone ratte a far lor pro o a fuggir lor danno, com'io, dopo cotai parole fatte,
venni qua giu` del mio beato scanno, fidandomi del tuo parlare onesto, ch'onora te e quei ch'udito l'hanno".
Poscia che m'ebbe ragionato questo, li occhi lucenti lagrimando volse; per che mi fece del venir piu` presto;
e venni a te cosi` com'ella volse; d'inanzi a quella fiera ti levai che del bel monte il corto andar ti tolse.
Dunque: che e`? perche', perche' restai? perche' tanta vilta` nel core allette? perche' ardire e franchezza non hai,
poscia che tai tre donne benedette curan di te ne la corte del cielo, e 'l mio parlar tanto ben ti promette?”.
Quali fioretti dal notturno gelo chinati e chiusi, poi che 'l sol li 'mbianca si drizzan tutti aperti in loro stelo,
tal mi fec'io di mia virtude stanca, e tanto buono ardire al cor mi corse, ch'i' cominciai come persona franca:
“Oh pietosa colei che mi soccorse! e te cortese ch'ubidisti tosto a le vere parole che ti porse!
Tu m'hai con disiderio il cor disposto si` al venir con le parole tue, ch'i' son tornato nel primo proposto.
Or va, ch'un sol volere e` d'ambedue: tu duca, tu segnore, e tu maestro”. Cosi` li dissi; e poi che mosso fue,
intrai per lo cammino alto e silvestro.
Per me si va ne la citta` dolente, per me si va ne l'etterno dolore, per me si va tra la perduta gente.
Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore: fecemi la divina podestate, la somma sapienza e 'l primo amore.
Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create se non etterne, e io etterno duro. Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate".
Queste parole di colore oscuro vid'io scritte al sommo d'una porta; per ch'io: “Maestro, il senso lor m'e` duro”.
Ed elli a me, come persona accorta: “Qui si convien lasciare ogne sospetto; ogne vilta` convien che qui sia morta.
Noi siam venuti al loco ov'i' t'ho detto che tu vedrai le genti dolorose c'hanno perduto il ben de l'intelletto”.
E poi che la sua mano a la mia puose con lieto volto, ond'io mi confortai, mi mise dentro a le segrete cose.
Quivi sospiri, pianti e alti guai risonavan per l'aere sanza stelle, per ch'io al cominciar ne lagrimai.
Diverse lingue, orribili favelle, parole di dolore, accenti d'ira, voci alte e fioche, e suon di man con elle
facevano un tumulto, il qual s'aggira sempre in quell'aura sanza tempo tinta, come la rena quando turbo spira.
E io ch'avea d'error la testa cinta, dissi: “Maestro, che e` quel ch'i' odo? e che gent'e` che par nel duol si` vinta?”.
Ed elli a me: “Questo misero modo tegnon l'anime triste di coloro che visser sanza 'nfamia e sanza lodo.
Mischiate sono a quel cattivo coro de li angeli che non furon ribelli ne' fur fedeli a Dio, ma per se' fuoro.
Caccianli i ciel per non esser men belli, ne' lo profondo inferno li riceve, ch'alcuna gloria i rei avrebber d'elli”.
E io: “Maestro, che e` tanto greve a lor, che lamentar li fa si` forte?”. Rispuose: “Dicerolti molto breve.
Questi non hanno speranza di morte e la lor cieca vita e` tanto bassa, che 'nvidiosi son d'ogne altra sorte.
Fama di loro il mondo esser non lassa; misericordia e giustizia li sdegna: non ragioniam di lor, ma guarda e passa”.
E io, che riguardai, vidi una 'nsegna che girando correva tanto ratta, che d'ogne posa mi parea indegna;
e dietro le venia si` lunga tratta di gente, ch'i' non averei creduto che morte tanta n'avesse disfatta.
Poscia ch'io v'ebbi alcun riconosciuto, vidi e conobbi l'ombra di colui che fece per viltade il gran rifiuto.
Incontanente intesi e certo fui che questa era la setta d'i cattivi, a Dio spiacenti e a' nemici sui.
Questi sciaurati, che mai non fur vivi, erano ignudi e stimolati molto da mosconi e da vespe ch'eran ivi.
Elle rigavan lor di sangue il volto, che, mischiato di lagrime, a' lor piedi da fastidiosi vermi era ricolto.
E poi ch'a riguardar oltre mi diedi, vidi genti a la riva d'un gran fiume; per ch'io dissi: “Maestro, or mi concedi
ch'i' sappia quali sono, e qual costume le fa di trapassar parer si` pronte, com'io discerno per lo fioco lume”.
Ed elli a me: “Le cose ti fier conte quando noi fermerem li nostri passi su la trista riviera d'Acheronte”.
Allor con li occhi vergognosi e bassi, temendo no 'l mio dir li fosse grave, infino al fiume del parlar mi trassi.
Ed ecco verso noi venir per nave un vecchio, bianco per antico pelo, gridando: “Guai a voi, anime prave!
Non isperate mai veder lo cielo: i' vegno per menarvi a l'altra riva ne le tenebre etterne, in caldo e 'n gelo.
E tu che se' costi`, anima viva, partiti da cotesti che son morti”. Ma poi che vide ch'io non mi partiva,
disse: “Per altra via, per altri porti verrai a piaggia, non qui, per passare: piu` lieve legno convien che ti porti”.
E 'l duca lui: “Caron, non ti crucciare: vuolsi cosi` cola` dove si puote cio` che si vuole, e piu` non dimandare”.
Quinci fuor quete le lanose gote al nocchier de la livida palude, che 'ntorno a li occhi avea di fiamme rote.
Ma quell'anime, ch'eran lasse e nude, cangiar colore e dibattero i denti, ratto che 'nteser le parole crude.
Bestemmiavano Dio e lor parenti, l'umana spezie e 'l loco e 'l tempo e 'l seme di lor semenza e di lor nascimenti.
Poi si ritrasser tutte quante insieme, forte piangendo, a la riva malvagia ch'attende ciascun uom che Dio non teme.
Caron dimonio, con occhi di bragia, loro accennando, tutte le raccoglie; batte col remo qualunque s'adagia.
Come d'autunno si levan le foglie l'una appresso de l'altra, fin che 'l ramo vede a la terra tutte le sue spoglie,
similemente il mal seme d'Adamo gittansi di quel lito ad una ad una, per cenni come augel per suo richiamo.
Cosi` sen vanno su per l'onda bruna, e avanti che sien di la` discese, anche di qua nuova schiera s'auna.
“Figliuol mio”, disse 'l maestro cortese, “quelli che muoion ne l'ira di Dio tutti convegnon qui d'ogne paese:
e pronti sono a trapassar lo rio, che' la divina giustizia li sprona, si` che la tema si volve in disio.
Quinci non passa mai anima buona; e pero`, se Caron di te si lagna, ben puoi sapere omai che 'l suo dir suona”.
Finito questo, la buia campagna tremo` si` forte, che de lo spavento la mente di sudore ancor mi bagna.
La terra lagrimosa diede vento, che baleno` una luce vermiglia la qual mi vinse ciascun sentimento;
e caddi come l'uom cui sonno piglia.
Ruppemi l'alto sonno ne la testa un greve truono, si` ch'io mi riscossi come persona ch'e` per forza desta;
e l'occhio riposato intorno mossi, dritto levato, e fiso riguardai per conoscer lo loco dov'io fossi.
Vero e` che 'n su la proda mi trovai de la valle d'abisso dolorosa che 'ntrono accoglie d'infiniti guai.
Oscura e profonda era e nebulosa tanto che, per ficcar lo viso a fondo, io non vi discernea alcuna cosa.
“Or discendiam qua giu` nel cieco mondo”, comincio` il poeta tutto smorto. “Io saro` primo, e tu sarai secondo”.
E io, che del color mi fui accorto, dissi: “Come verro`, se tu paventi che suoli al mio dubbiare esser conforto?”.
Ed elli a me: “L'angoscia de le genti che son qua giu`, nel viso mi dipigne quella pieta` che tu per tema senti.
Andiam, che' la via lunga ne sospigne”. Cosi` si mise e cosi` mi fe' intrare nel primo cerchio che l'abisso cigne.
Quivi, secondo che per ascoltare, non avea pianto mai che di sospiri, che l'aura etterna facevan tremare;
cio` avvenia di duol sanza martiri ch'avean le turbe, ch'eran molte e grandi, d'infanti e di femmine e di viri.
Lo buon maestro a me: “Tu non dimandi che spiriti son questi che tu vedi? Or vo' che sappi, innanzi che piu` andi,
ch'ei non peccaro; e s'elli hanno mercedi, non basta, perche' non ebber battesmo, ch'e` porta de la fede che tu credi;
e s'e' furon dinanzi al cristianesmo, non adorar debitamente a Dio: e di questi cotai son io medesmo.
Per tai difetti, non per altro rio, semo perduti, e sol di tanto offesi, che sanza speme vivemo in disio”.
Gran duol mi prese al cor quando lo 'ntesi, pero` che gente di molto valore conobbi che 'n quel limbo eran sospesi.
“Dimmi, maestro mio, dimmi, segnore”, comincia' io per voler esser certo di quella fede che vince ogne errore:
“uscicci mai alcuno, o per suo merto o per altrui, che poi fosse beato?”. E quei che 'ntese il mio parlar coverto,
rispuose: “Io era nuovo in questo stato, quando ci vidi venire un possente, con segno di vittoria coronato.
Trasseci l'ombra del primo parente, d'Abel suo figlio e quella di Noe`, di Moise` legista e ubidente;
Abraam patriarca e David re, Israel con lo padre e co' suoi nati e con Rachele, per cui tanto fe';
e altri molti, e feceli beati. E vo' che sappi che, dinanzi ad essi, spiriti umani non eran salvati”.
Non lasciavam l'andar perch'ei dicessi, ma passavam la selva tuttavia, la selva, dico, di spiriti spessi.
Non era lunga ancor la nostra via di qua dal sonno, quand'io vidi un foco ch'emisperio di tenebre vincia.
Di lungi n'eravamo ancora un poco, ma non si` ch'io non discernessi in parte ch'orrevol gente possedea quel loco.
“O tu ch'onori scienzia e arte, questi chi son c'hanno cotanta onranza, che dal modo de li altri li diparte?”.
E quelli a me: “L'onrata nominanza che di lor suona su` ne la tua vita, grazia acquista in ciel che si` li avanza”.
Intanto voce fu per me udita: “Onorate l'altissimo poeta: l'ombra sua torna, ch'era dipartita”.
Poi che la voce fu restata e queta, vidi quattro grand'ombre a noi venire: sembianz'avevan ne' trista ne' lieta.
Lo buon maestro comincio` a dire: “Mira colui con quella spada in mano, che vien dinanzi ai tre si` come sire:
quelli e` Omero poeta sovrano; l'altro e` Orazio satiro che vene; Ovidio e` 'l terzo, e l'ultimo Lucano.
Pero` che ciascun meco si convene nel nome che sono` la voce sola, fannomi onore, e di cio` fanno bene”.
Cosi` vid'i' adunar la bella scola di quel segnor de l'altissimo canto che sovra li altri com'aquila vola.
Da ch'ebber ragionato insieme alquanto, volsersi a me con salutevol cenno, e 'l mio maestro sorrise di tanto;
e piu` d'onore ancora assai mi fenno, ch'e' si` mi fecer de la loro schiera, si` ch'io fui sesto tra cotanto senno.
Cosi` andammo infino a la lumera, parlando cose che 'l tacere e` bello, si` com'era 'l parlar cola` dov'era.
Venimmo al pie` d'un nobile castello, sette volte cerchiato d'alte mura, difeso intorno d'un bel fiumicello.
Questo passammo come terra dura; per sette porte intrai con questi savi: giugnemmo in prato di fresca verdura.
Genti v'eran con occhi tardi e gravi, di grande autorita` ne' lor sembianti: parlavan rado, con voci soavi.
Traemmoci cosi` da l'un de' canti, in loco aperto, luminoso e alto, si` che veder si potien tutti quanti.
Cola` diritto, sovra 'l verde smalto, mi fuor mostrati li spiriti magni, che del vedere in me stesso m'essalto.
I' vidi Eletra con molti compagni, tra ' quai conobbi Ettor ed Enea, Cesare armato con li occhi grifagni.
Vidi Cammilla e la Pantasilea; da l'altra parte, vidi 'l re Latino che con Lavina sua figlia sedea.
Vidi quel Bruto che caccio` Tarquino, Lucrezia, Iulia, Marzia e Corniglia; e solo, in parte, vidi 'l Saladino.
Poi ch'innalzai un poco piu` le ciglia, vidi 'l maestro di color che sanno seder tra filosofica famiglia.
Tutti lo miran, tutti onor li fanno: quivi vid'io Socrate e Platone, che 'nnanzi a li altri piu` presso li stanno;
Democrito, che 'l mondo a caso pone, Diogenes, Anassagora e Tale, Empedocles, Eraclito e Zenone;
e vidi il buono accoglitor del quale, Diascoride dico; e vidi Orfeo, Tulio e Lino e Seneca morale;
Euclide geometra e Tolomeo, Ipocrate, Avicenna e Galieno, Averois, che 'l gran comento feo.
Io non posso ritrar di tutti a pieno, pero` che si` mi caccia il lungo tema, che molte volte al fatto il dir vien meno.
La sesta compagnia in due si scema: per altra via mi mena il savio duca, fuor de la queta, ne l'aura che trema.
E vegno in parte ove non e` che luca.
Cosi` discesi del cerchio primaio giu` nel secondo, che men loco cinghia, e tanto piu` dolor, che punge a guaio.
Stavvi Minos orribilmente, e ringhia: essamina le colpe ne l'intrata; giudica e manda secondo ch'avvinghia.
Dico che quando l'anima mal nata li vien dinanzi, tutta si confessa; e quel conoscitor de le peccata
vede qual loco d'inferno e` da essa; cignesi con la coda tante volte quantunque gradi vuol che giu` sia messa.
Sempre dinanzi a lui ne stanno molte; vanno a vicenda ciascuna al giudizio; dicono e odono, e poi son giu` volte.
“O tu che vieni al doloroso ospizio”, disse Minos a me quando mi vide, lasciando l'atto di cotanto offizio,
“guarda com'entri e di cui tu ti fide; non t'inganni l'ampiezza de l'intrare!”. E 'l duca mio a lui: “Perche' pur gride?
Non impedir lo suo fatale andare: vuolsi cosi` cola` dove si puote cio` che si vuole, e piu` non dimandare”.
Or incomincian le dolenti note a farmisi sentire; or son venuto la` dove molto pianto mi percuote.
Io venni in loco d'ogne luce muto, che mugghia come fa mar per tempesta, se da contrari venti e` combattuto.
La bufera infernal, che mai non resta, mena li spirti con la sua rapina; voltando e percotendo li molesta.
Quando giungon davanti a la ruina, quivi le strida, il compianto, il lamento; bestemmian quivi la virtu` divina.
Intesi ch'a cosi` fatto tormento enno dannati i peccator carnali, che la ragion sommettono al talento.
E come li stornei ne portan l'ali nel freddo tempo, a schiera larga e piena, cosi` quel fiato li spiriti mali
di qua, di la`, di giu`, di su` li mena; nulla speranza li conforta mai, non che di posa, ma di minor pena.
E come i gru van cantando lor lai, faccendo in aere di se' lunga riga, cosi` vid'io venir, traendo guai,
ombre portate da la detta briga; per ch'i' dissi: “Maestro, chi son quelle genti che l'aura nera si` gastiga?”.
“La prima di color di cui novelle tu vuo' saper”, mi disse quelli allotta, “fu imperadrice di molte favelle.
A vizio di lussuria fu si` rotta, che libito fe' licito in sua legge, per torre il biasmo in che era condotta.
Ell'e` Semiramis, di cui si legge che succedette a Nino e fu sua sposa: tenne la terra che 'l Soldan corregge.
L'altra e` colei che s'ancise amorosa, e ruppe fede al cener di Sicheo; poi e` Cleopatras lussuriosa.
Elena vedi, per cui tanto reo tempo si volse, e vedi 'l grande Achille, che con amore al fine combatteo.
Vedi Paris, Tristano”; e piu` di mille ombre mostrommi e nominommi a dito, ch'amor di nostra vita dipartille.
Poscia ch'io ebbi il mio dottore udito nomar le donne antiche e ' cavalieri, pieta` mi giunse, e fui quasi smarrito.
I' cominciai: “Poeta, volontieri parlerei a quei due che 'nsieme vanno, e paion si` al vento esser leggeri”.
Ed elli a me: “Vedrai quando saranno piu` presso a noi; e tu allor li priega per quello amor che i mena, ed ei verranno”.
Si` tosto come il vento a noi li piega, mossi la voce: “O anime affannate, venite a noi parlar, s'altri nol niega!”.
Quali colombe dal disio chiamate con l'ali alzate e ferme al dolce nido vegnon per l'aere dal voler portate;
cotali uscir de la schiera ov'e` Dido, a noi venendo per l'aere maligno, si` forte fu l'affettuoso grido.
“O animal grazioso e benigno che visitando vai per l'aere perso noi che tignemmo il mondo di sanguigno,
se fosse amico il re de l'universo, noi pregheremmo lui de la tua pace, poi c'hai pieta` del nostro mal perverso.
Di quel che udire e che parlar vi piace, noi udiremo e parleremo a voi, mentre che 'l vento, come fa, ci tace.
Siede la terra dove nata fui su la marina dove 'l Po discende per aver pace co' seguaci sui.
Amor, ch'al cor gentil ratto s'apprende prese costui de la bella persona che mi fu tolta; e 'l modo ancor m'offende.
Amor, ch'a nullo amato amar perdona, mi prese del costui piacer si` forte, che, come vedi, ancor non m'abbandona.
Amor condusse noi ad una morte: Caina attende chi a vita ci spense”. Queste parole da lor ci fuor porte.
Quand'io intesi quell'anime offense, china' il viso e tanto il tenni basso, fin che 'l poeta mi disse: “Che pense?”.
Quando rispuosi, cominciai: “Oh lasso, quanti dolci pensier, quanto disio meno` costoro al doloroso passo!”.
Poi mi rivolsi a loro e parla' io, e cominciai: “Francesca, i tuoi martiri a lagrimar mi fanno tristo e pio.
Ma dimmi: al tempo d'i dolci sospiri, a che e come concedette Amore che conosceste i dubbiosi disiri?”.
E quella a me: “Nessun maggior dolore che ricordarsi del tempo felice ne la miseria; e cio` sa 'l tuo dottore.
Ma s'a conoscer la prima radice del nostro amor tu hai cotanto affetto, diro` come colui che piange e dice.
Noi leggiavamo un giorno per diletto di Lancialotto come amor lo strinse; soli eravamo e sanza alcun sospetto.
Per piu` fiate li occhi ci sospinse quella lettura, e scolorocci il viso; ma solo un punto fu quel che ci vinse.
Quando leggemmo il disiato riso esser basciato da cotanto amante, questi, che mai da me non fia diviso,
la bocca mi bascio` tutto tremante. Galeotto fu 'l libro e chi lo scrisse: quel giorno piu` non vi leggemmo avante”.
Mentre che l'uno spirto questo disse, l'altro piangea; si` che di pietade io venni men cosi` com'io morisse.
E caddi come corpo morto cade.
Al tornar de la mente, che si chiuse dinanzi a la pieta` d'i due cognati, che di trestizia tutto mi confuse,
novi tormenti e novi tormentati mi veggio intorno, come ch'io mi mova e ch'io mi volga, e come che io guati.
Io sono al terzo cerchio, de la piova etterna, maladetta, fredda e greve; regola e qualita` mai non l'e` nova.
Grandine grossa, acqua tinta e neve per l'aere tenebroso si riversa; pute la terra che questo riceve.
Cerbero, fiera crudele e diversa, con tre gole caninamente latra sovra la gente che quivi e` sommersa.
Li occhi ha vermigli, la barba unta e atra, e 'l ventre largo, e unghiate le mani; graffia li spirti, ed iscoia ed isquatra.
Urlar li fa la pioggia come cani; de l'un de' lati fanno a l'altro schermo; volgonsi spesso i miseri profani.
Quando ci scorse Cerbero, il gran vermo, le bocche aperse e mostrocci le sanne; non avea membro che tenesse fermo.
E 'l duca mio distese le sue spanne, prese la terra, e con piene le pugna la gitto` dentro a le bramose canne.
Qual e` quel cane ch'abbaiando agogna, e si racqueta poi che 'l pasto morde, che' solo a divorarlo intende e pugna,
cotai si fecer quelle facce lorde de lo demonio Cerbero, che 'ntrona l'anime si`, ch'esser vorrebber sorde.
Noi passavam su per l'ombre che adona la greve pioggia, e ponavam le piante sovra lor vanita` che par persona.
Elle giacean per terra tutte quante, fuor d'una ch'a seder si levo`, ratto ch'ella ci vide passarsi davante.
“O tu che se' per questo 'nferno tratto”, mi disse, “riconoscimi, se sai: tu fosti, prima ch'io disfatto, fatto”.
E io a lui: “L'angoscia che tu hai forse ti tira fuor de la mia mente, si` che non par ch'i' ti vedessi mai.
Ma dimmi chi tu se' che 'n si` dolente loco se' messo e hai si` fatta pena, che, s'altra e` maggio, nulla e` si` spiacente”.
Ed elli a me: “La tua citta`, ch'e` piena d'invidia si` che gia` trabocca il sacco, seco mi tenne in la vita serena.
Voi cittadini mi chiamaste Ciacco: per la dannosa colpa de la gola, come tu vedi, a la pioggia mi fiacco.
E io anima trista non son sola, che' tutte queste a simil pena stanno per simil colpa”. E piu` non fe' parola.
Io li rispuosi: “Ciacco, il tuo affanno mi pesa si`, ch'a lagrimar mi 'nvita; ma dimmi, se tu sai, a che verranno
li cittadin de la citta` partita; s'alcun v'e` giusto; e dimmi la cagione per che l'ha tanta discordia assalita”.
E quelli a me: “Dopo lunga tencione verranno al sangue, e la parte selvaggia caccera` l'altra con molta offensione.
Poi appresso convien che questa caggia infra tre soli, e che l'altra sormonti con la forza di tal che teste' piaggia.
Alte terra` lungo tempo le fronti, tenendo l'altra sotto gravi pesi, come che di cio` pianga o che n'aonti.
Giusti son due, e non vi sono intesi; superbia, invidia e avarizia sono le tre faville c'hanno i cuori accesi”.
Qui puose fine al lagrimabil suono. E io a lui: “Ancor vo' che mi 'nsegni, e che di piu` parlar mi facci dono.
Farinata e 'l Tegghiaio, che fuor si` degni, Iacopo Rusticucci, Arrigo e 'l Mosca e li altri ch'a ben far puoser li 'ngegni,
dimmi ove sono e fa ch'io li conosca; che' gran disio mi stringe di savere se 'l ciel li addolcia, o lo 'nferno li attosca”.
E quelli: “Ei son tra l'anime piu` nere: diverse colpe giu` li grava al fondo: se tanto scendi, la` i potrai vedere.
Ma quando tu sarai nel dolce mondo, priegoti ch'a la mente altrui mi rechi: piu` non ti dico e piu` non ti rispondo”.
Li diritti occhi torse allora in biechi; guardommi un poco, e poi chino` la testa: cadde con essa a par de li altri ciechi.
E 'l duca disse a me: “Piu` non si desta di qua dal suon de l'angelica tromba, quando verra` la nimica podesta:
ciascun rivedera` la trista tomba, ripigliera` sua carne e sua figura, udira` quel ch'in etterno rimbomba”.
Si` trapassammo per sozza mistura de l'ombre e de la pioggia, a passi lenti, toccando un poco la vita futura;
per ch'io dissi: “Maestro, esti tormenti crescerann'ei dopo la gran sentenza, o fier minori, o saran si` cocenti?”.
Ed elli a me: “Ritorna a tua scienza, che vuol, quanto la cosa e` piu` perfetta, piu` senta il bene, e cosi` la doglienza.
Tutto che questa gente maladetta in vera perfezion gia` mai non vada, di la` piu` che di qua essere aspetta”.
Noi aggirammo a tondo quella strada, parlando piu` assai ch'i' non ridico; venimmo al punto dove si digrada:
quivi trovammo Pluto, il gran nemico.
“Pape Satan, pape Satan aleppe!”, comincio` Pluto con la voce chioccia; e quel savio gentil, che tutto seppe,
disse per confortarmi: “Non ti noccia la tua paura; che', poder ch'elli abbia, non ci torra` lo scender questa roccia”.
Poi si rivolse a quella 'nfiata labbia, e disse: “Taci, maladetto lupo! consuma dentro te con la tua rabbia.
Non e` sanza cagion l'andare al cupo: vuolsi ne l'alto, la` dove Michele fe' la vendetta del superbo strupo”.
Quali dal vento le gonfiate vele caggiono avvolte, poi che l'alber fiacca, tal cadde a terra la fiera crudele.
Cosi` scendemmo ne la quarta lacca pigliando piu` de la dolente ripa che 'l mal de l'universo tutto insacca.
Ahi giustizia di Dio! tante chi stipa nove travaglie e pene quant'io viddi? e perche' nostra colpa si` ne scipa?
Come fa l'onda la` sovra Cariddi, che si frange con quella in cui s'intoppa, cosi` convien che qui la gente riddi.
Qui vid'i' gente piu` ch'altrove troppa, e d'una parte e d'altra, con grand'urli, voltando pesi per forza di poppa.
Percoteansi 'ncontro; e poscia pur li` si rivolgea ciascun, voltando a retro, gridando: “Perche' tieni?” e “Perche' burli?”.
Cosi` tornavan per lo cerchio tetro da ogne mano a l'opposito punto, gridandosi anche loro ontoso metro;
poi si volgea ciascun, quand'era giunto, per lo suo mezzo cerchio a l'altra giostra. E io, ch'avea lo cor quasi compunto,
dissi: “Maestro mio, or mi dimostra che gente e` questa, e se tutti fuor cherci questi chercuti a la sinistra nostra”.
Ed elli a me: “Tutti quanti fuor guerci si` de la mente in la vita primaia, che con misura nullo spendio ferci.
Assai la voce lor chiaro l'abbaia quando vegnono a' due punti del cerchio dove colpa contraria li dispaia.
Questi fuor cherci, che non han coperchio piloso al capo, e papi e cardinali, in cui usa avarizia il suo soperchio”.
E io: “Maestro, tra questi cotali dovre' io ben riconoscere alcuni che furo immondi di cotesti mali”.
Ed elli a me: “Vano pensiero aduni: la sconoscente vita che i fe' sozzi ad ogne conoscenza or li fa bruni.
In etterno verranno a li due cozzi: questi resurgeranno del sepulcro col pugno chiuso, e questi coi crin mozzi.
Mal dare e mal tener lo mondo pulcro ha tolto loro, e posti a questa zuffa: qual ella sia, parole non ci appulcro.
Or puoi, figliuol, veder la corta buffa d'i ben che son commessi a la fortuna, per che l'umana gente si rabbuffa;
che' tutto l'oro ch'e` sotto la luna e che gia` fu, di quest'anime stanche non poterebbe farne posare una”.
“Maestro mio”, diss'io, “or mi di` anche: questa fortuna di che tu mi tocche, che e`, che i ben del mondo ha si` tra branche?”.
E quelli a me: “Oh creature sciocche, quanta ignoranza e` quella che v'offende! Or vo' che tu mia sentenza ne 'mbocche.
Colui lo cui saver tutto trascende, fece li cieli e die` lor chi conduce si` ch'ogne parte ad ogne parte splende,
distribuendo igualmente la luce. Similemente a li splendor mondani ordino` general ministra e duce
che permutasse a tempo li ben vani di gente in gente e d'uno in altro sangue, oltre la difension d'i senni umani;
per ch'una gente impera e l'altra langue, seguendo lo giudicio di costei, che e` occulto come in erba l'angue.
Vostro saver non ha contasto a lei: questa provede, giudica, e persegue suo regno come il loro li altri dei.
Le sue permutazion non hanno triegue; necessita` la fa esser veloce; si` spesso vien chi vicenda consegue.
Quest'e` colei ch'e` tanto posta in croce pur da color che le dovrien dar lode, dandole biasmo a torto e mala voce;
ma ella s'e` beata e cio` non ode: con l'altre prime creature lieta volve sua spera e beata si gode.
Or discendiamo omai a maggior pieta; gia` ogne stella cade che saliva quand'io mi mossi, e 'l troppo star si vieta”.
Noi ricidemmo il cerchio a l'altra riva sovr'una fonte che bolle e riversa per un fossato che da lei deriva.
L'acqua era buia assai piu` che persa; e noi, in compagnia de l'onde bige, intrammo giu` per una via diversa.
In la palude va c'ha nome Stige questo tristo ruscel, quand'e` disceso al pie` de le maligne piagge grige.
E io, che di mirare stava inteso, vidi genti fangose in quel pantano, ignude tutte, con sembiante offeso.
Queste si percotean non pur con mano, ma con la testa e col petto e coi piedi, troncandosi co' denti a brano a brano.
Lo buon maestro disse: “Figlio, or vedi l'anime di color cui vinse l'ira; e anche vo' che tu per certo credi
che sotto l'acqua e` gente che sospira, e fanno pullular quest'acqua al summo, come l'occhio ti dice, u' che s'aggira.
Fitti nel limo, dicon: "Tristi fummo ne l'aere dolce che dal sol s'allegra, portando dentro accidioso fummo:
or ci attristiam ne la belletta negra". Quest'inno si gorgoglian ne la strozza, che' dir nol posson con parola integra”.
Cosi` girammo de la lorda pozza grand'arco tra la ripa secca e 'l mezzo, con li occhi volti a chi del fango ingozza.
Venimmo al pie` d'una torre al da sezzo.
Io dico, seguitando, ch'assai prima che noi fossimo al pie` de l'alta torre, li occhi nostri n'andar suso a la cima
per due fiammette che i vedemmo porre e un'altra da lungi render cenno tanto ch'a pena il potea l'occhio torre.
E io mi volsi al mar di tutto 'l senno; dissi: “Questo che dice? e che risponde quell'altro foco? e chi son quei che 'l fenno?”.
Ed elli a me: “Su per le sucide onde gia` scorgere puoi quello che s'aspetta, se 'l fummo del pantan nol ti nasconde”.
Corda non pinse mai da se' saetta che si` corresse via per l'aere snella, com'io vidi una nave piccioletta
venir per l'acqua verso noi in quella, sotto 'l governo d'un sol galeoto, che gridava: “Or se' giunta, anima fella!”.
“Flegias, Flegias, tu gridi a voto”, disse lo mio segnore “a questa volta: piu` non ci avrai che sol passando il loto”.
Qual e` colui che grande inganno ascolta che li sia fatto, e poi se ne rammarca, fecesi Flegias ne l'ira accolta.
Lo duca mio discese ne la barca, e poi mi fece intrare appresso lui; e sol quand'io fui dentro parve carca.
Tosto che 'l duca e io nel legno fui, segando se ne va l'antica prora de l'acqua piu` che non suol con altrui.
Mentre noi corravam la morta gora, dinanzi mi si fece un pien di fango, e disse: “Chi se' tu che vieni anzi ora?”.
E io a lui: “S'i' vegno, non rimango; ma tu chi se', che si` se' fatto brutto?”. Rispuose: “Vedi che son un che piango”.
E io a lui: “Con piangere e con lutto, spirito maladetto, ti rimani; ch'i' ti conosco, ancor sie lordo tutto”.
Allor distese al legno ambo le mani; per che 'l maestro accorto lo sospinse, dicendo: “Via costa` con li altri cani!”.
Lo collo poi con le braccia mi cinse; basciommi 'l volto, e disse: “Alma sdegnosa, benedetta colei che 'n te s'incinse!
Quei fu al mondo persona orgogliosa; bonta` non e` che sua memoria fregi: cosi` s'e` l'ombra sua qui furiosa.
Quanti si tegnon or la` su` gran regi che qui staranno come porci in brago, di se' lasciando orribili dispregi!”.
E io: “Maestro, molto sarei vago di vederlo attuffare in questa broda prima che noi uscissimo del lago”.
Ed elli a me: “Avante che la proda ti si lasci veder, tu sarai sazio: di tal disio convien che tu goda”.
Dopo cio` poco vid'io quello strazio far di costui a le fangose genti, che Dio ancor ne lodo e ne ringrazio.
Tutti gridavano: “A Filippo Argenti!”; e 'l fiorentino spirito bizzarro in se' medesmo si volvea co' denti.
Quivi il lasciammo, che piu` non ne narro; ma ne l'orecchie mi percosse un duolo, per ch'io avante l'occhio intento sbarro.
Lo buon maestro disse: “Omai, figliuolo, s'appressa la citta` c'ha nome Dite, coi gravi cittadin, col grande stuolo”.
E io: “Maestro, gia` le sue meschite la` entro certe ne la valle cerno, vermiglie come se di foco uscite
fossero”. Ed ei mi disse: “Il foco etterno ch'entro l'affoca le dimostra rosse, come tu vedi in questo basso inferno”.
Noi pur giugnemmo dentro a l'alte fosse che vallan quella terra sconsolata: le mura mi parean che ferro fosse.
Non sanza prima far grande aggirata, venimmo in parte dove il nocchier forte “Usciteci”, grido`: “qui e` l'intrata”.
Io vidi piu` di mille in su le porte da ciel piovuti, che stizzosamente dicean: “Chi e` costui che sanza morte
va per lo regno de la morta gente?”. E 'l savio mio maestro fece segno di voler lor parlar segretamente.
Allor chiusero un poco il gran disdegno, e disser: “Vien tu solo, e quei sen vada, che si` ardito intro` per questo regno.
Sol si ritorni per la folle strada: pruovi, se sa; che' tu qui rimarrai che li ha' iscorta si` buia contrada”.
Pensa, lettor, se io mi sconfortai nel suon de le parole maladette, che' non credetti ritornarci mai.
“O caro duca mio, che piu` di sette volte m'hai sicurta` renduta e tratto d'alto periglio che 'ncontra mi stette,
non mi lasciar”, diss'io, “cosi` disfatto; e se 'l passar piu` oltre ci e` negato, ritroviam l'orme nostre insieme ratto”.
E quel segnor che li` m'avea menato, mi disse: “Non temer; che' 'l nostro passo non ci puo` torre alcun: da tal n'e` dato.
Ma qui m'attendi, e lo spirito lasso conforta e ciba di speranza buona, ch'i' non ti lascero` nel mondo basso”.
Cosi` sen va, e quivi m'abbandona lo dolce padre, e io rimagno in forse, che si` e no nel capo mi tenciona.
Udir non potti quello ch'a lor porse; ma ei non stette la` con essi guari, che ciascun dentro a pruova si ricorse.
Chiuser le porte que' nostri avversari nel petto al mio segnor, che fuor rimase, e rivolsesi a me con passi rari.
Li occhi a la terra e le ciglia avea rase d'ogne baldanza, e dicea ne' sospiri: “Chi m'ha negate le dolenti case!”.
E a me disse: “Tu, perch'io m'adiri, non sbigottir, ch'io vincero` la prova, qual ch'a la difension dentro s'aggiri.
Questa lor tracotanza non e` nova; che' gia` l'usaro a men segreta porta, la qual sanza serrame ancor si trova.
Sovr'essa vedestu` la scritta morta: e gia` di qua da lei discende l'erta, passando per li cerchi sanza scorta,
tal che per lui ne fia la terra aperta”.
Quel color che vilta` di fuor mi pinse veggendo il duca mio tornare in volta, piu` tosto dentro il suo novo ristrinse.
Attento si fermo` com'uom ch'ascolta; che' l'occhio nol potea menare a lunga per l'aere nero e per la nebbia folta.
“Pur a noi converra` vincer la punga”, comincio` el, “se non... Tal ne s'offerse. Oh quanto tarda a me ch'altri qui giunga!”.
I' vidi ben si` com'ei ricoperse lo cominciar con l'altro che poi venne, che fur parole a le prime diverse;
ma nondimen paura il suo dir dienne, perch'io traeva la parola tronca forse a peggior sentenzia che non tenne.
“In questo fondo de la trista conca discende mai alcun del primo grado, che sol per pena ha la speranza cionca?”.
Questa question fec'io; e quei “Di rado incontra”, mi rispuose, “che di noi faccia il cammino alcun per qual io vado.
Ver e` ch'altra fiata qua giu` fui, congiurato da quella Eriton cruda che richiamava l'ombre a' corpi sui.
Di poco era di me la carne nuda, ch'ella mi fece intrar dentr'a quel muro, per trarne un spirto del cerchio di Giuda.
Quell'e` 'l piu` basso loco e 'l piu` oscuro, e 'l piu` lontan dal ciel che tutto gira: ben so 'l cammin; pero` ti fa sicuro.
Questa palude che 'l gran puzzo spira cigne dintorno la citta` dolente, u' non potemo intrare omai sanz'ira”.
E altro disse, ma non l'ho a mente; pero` che l'occhio m'avea tutto tratto ver' l'alta torre a la cima rovente,
dove in un punto furon dritte ratto tre furie infernal di sangue tinte, che membra feminine avieno e atto,
e con idre verdissime eran cinte; serpentelli e ceraste avien per crine, onde le fiere tempie erano avvinte.
E quei, che ben conobbe le meschine de la regina de l'etterno pianto, “Guarda”, mi disse, “le feroci Erine.
Quest'e` Megera dal sinistro canto; quella che piange dal destro e` Aletto; Tesifon e` nel mezzo”; e tacque a tanto.
Con l'unghie si fendea ciascuna il petto; battiensi a palme, e gridavan si` alto, ch'i' mi strinsi al poeta per sospetto.
“Vegna Medusa: si` 'l farem di smalto”, dicevan tutte riguardando in giuso; “mal non vengiammo in Teseo l'assalto”.
“Volgiti 'n dietro e tien lo viso chiuso; che' se 'l Gorgon si mostra e tu 'l vedessi, nulla sarebbe di tornar mai suso”.
Cosi` disse 'l maestro; ed elli stessi mi volse, e non si tenne a le mie mani, che con le sue ancor non mi chiudessi.
O voi ch'avete li 'ntelletti sani, mirate la dottrina che s'asconde sotto 'l velame de li versi strani.
E gia` venia su per le torbide onde un fracasso d'un suon, pien di spavento, per cui tremavano amendue le sponde,
non altrimenti fatto che d'un vento impetuoso per li avversi ardori, che fier la selva e sanz'alcun rattento
li rami schianta, abbatte e porta fori; dinanzi polveroso va superbo, e fa fuggir le fiere e li pastori.
Gli occhi mi sciolse e disse: “Or drizza il nerbo del viso su per quella schiuma antica per indi ove quel fummo e` piu` acerbo”.
Come le rane innanzi a la nimica biscia per l'acqua si dileguan tutte, fin ch'a la terra ciascuna s'abbica,
vid'io piu` di mille anime distrutte fuggir cosi` dinanzi ad un ch'al passo passava Stige con le piante asciutte.
Dal volto rimovea quell'aere grasso, menando la sinistra innanzi spesso; e sol di quell'angoscia parea lasso.
Ben m'accorsi ch'elli era da ciel messo, e volsimi al maestro; e quei fe' segno ch'i' stessi queto ed inchinassi ad esso.
Ahi quanto mi parea pien di disdegno! Venne a la porta, e con una verghetta l'aperse, che non v'ebbe alcun ritegno.
“O cacciati del ciel, gente dispetta”, comincio` elli in su l'orribil soglia, “ond'esta oltracotanza in voi s'alletta?
Perche' recalcitrate a quella voglia a cui non puote il fin mai esser mozzo, e che piu` volte v'ha cresciuta doglia?
Che giova ne le fata dar di cozzo? Cerbero vostro, se ben vi ricorda, ne porta ancor pelato il mento e 'l gozzo”.
Poi si rivolse per la strada lorda, e non fe' motto a noi, ma fe' sembiante d'omo cui altra cura stringa e morda
che quella di colui che li e` davante; e noi movemmo i piedi inver' la terra, sicuri appresso le parole sante.
Dentro li 'ntrammo sanz'alcuna guerra; e io, ch'avea di riguardar disio la condizion che tal fortezza serra,
com'io fui dentro, l'occhio intorno invio; e veggio ad ogne man grande campagna piena di duolo e di tormento rio.
Si` come ad Arli, ove Rodano stagna, si` com'a Pola, presso del Carnaro ch'Italia chiude e suoi termini bagna,
fanno i sepulcri tutt'il loco varo, cosi` facevan quivi d'ogne parte, salvo che 'l modo v'era piu` amaro;
che' tra gli avelli fiamme erano sparte, per le quali eran si` del tutto accesi, che ferro piu` non chiede verun'arte.
Tutti li lor coperchi eran sospesi, e fuor n'uscivan si` duri lamenti, che ben parean di miseri e d'offesi.
E io: “Maestro, quai son quelle genti che, seppellite dentro da quell'arche, si fan sentir coi sospiri dolenti?”.
Ed elli a me: “Qui son li eresiarche con lor seguaci, d'ogne setta, e molto piu` che non credi son le tombe carche.
Simile qui con simile e` sepolto, e i monimenti son piu` e men caldi”. E poi ch'a la man destra si fu volto,
passammo tra i martiri e li alti spaldi.
Ora sen va per un secreto calle, tra 'l muro de la terra e li martiri, lo mio maestro, e io dopo le spalle.
“O virtu` somma, che per li empi giri mi volvi”, cominciai, “com'a te piace, parlami, e sodisfammi a' miei disiri.
La gente che per li sepolcri giace potrebbesi veder? gia` son levati tutt'i coperchi, e nessun guardia face”.
E quelli a me: “Tutti saran serrati quando di Iosafat qui torneranno coi corpi che la` su` hanno lasciati.
Suo cimitero da questa parte hanno con Epicuro tutti suoi seguaci, che l'anima col corpo morta fanno.
Pero` a la dimanda che mi faci quinc'entro satisfatto sara` tosto, e al disio ancor che tu mi taci”.
E io: “Buon duca, non tegno riposto a te mio cuor se non per dicer poco, e tu m'hai non pur mo a cio` disposto”.
“O Tosco che per la citta` del foco vivo ten vai cosi` parlando onesto, piacciati di restare in questo loco.
La tua loquela ti fa manifesto di quella nobil patria natio a la qual forse fui troppo molesto”.
Subitamente questo suono uscio d'una de l'arche; pero` m'accostai, temendo, un poco piu` al duca mio.
Ed el mi disse: “Volgiti! Che fai? Vedi la` Farinata che s'e` dritto: da la cintola in su` tutto 'l vedrai”.
Io avea gia` il mio viso nel suo fitto; ed el s'ergea col petto e con la fronte com'avesse l'inferno a gran dispitto.
E l'animose man del duca e pronte mi pinser tra le sepulture a lui, dicendo: “Le parole tue sien conte”.
Com'io al pie` de la sua tomba fui, guardommi un poco, e poi, quasi sdegnoso, mi dimando`: “Chi fuor li maggior tui?”.
Io ch'era d'ubidir disideroso, non gliel celai, ma tutto gliel'apersi; ond'ei levo` le ciglia un poco in suso;
poi disse: “Fieramente furo avversi a me e a miei primi e a mia parte, si` che per due fiate li dispersi”.
“S'ei fur cacciati, ei tornar d'ogne parte”, rispuos'io lui, “l'una e l'altra fiata; ma i vostri non appreser ben quell'arte”.
Allor surse a la vista scoperchiata un'ombra, lungo questa, infino al mento: credo che s'era in ginocchie levata.
Dintorno mi guardo`, come talento avesse di veder s'altri era meco; e poi che 'l sospecciar fu tutto spento,
piangendo disse: “Se per questo cieco carcere vai per altezza d'ingegno, mio figlio ov'e`? e perche' non e` teco?”.
E io a lui: “Da me stesso non vegno: colui ch'attende la`, per qui mi mena forse cui Guido vostro ebbe a disdegno”.
Le sue parole e 'l modo de la pena m'avean di costui gia` letto il nome; pero` fu la risposta cosi` piena.
Di subito drizzato grido`: “Come? dicesti "elli ebbe"? non viv'elli ancora? non fiere li occhi suoi lo dolce lume?”.
Quando s'accorse d'alcuna dimora ch'io facea dinanzi a la risposta, supin ricadde e piu` non parve fora.
Ma quell'altro magnanimo, a cui posta restato m'era, non muto` aspetto, ne' mosse collo, ne' piego` sua costa:
e se' continuando al primo detto, “S'elli han quell'arte”, disse, “male appresa, cio` mi tormenta piu` che questo letto.
Ma non cinquanta volte fia raccesa la faccia de la donna che qui regge, che tu saprai quanto quell'arte pesa.
E se tu mai nel dolce mondo regge, dimmi: perche' quel popolo e` si` empio incontr'a' miei in ciascuna sua legge?”.
Ond'io a lui: “Lo strazio e 'l grande scempio che fece l'Arbia colorata in rosso, tal orazion fa far nel nostro tempio”.
Poi ch'ebbe sospirando il capo mosso, “A cio` non fu' io sol”, disse, “ne' certo sanza cagion con li altri sarei mosso.
Ma fu' io solo, la` dove sofferto fu per ciascun di torre via Fiorenza, colui che la difesi a viso aperto”.
“Deh, se riposi mai vostra semenza”, prega' io lui, “solvetemi quel nodo che qui ha 'nviluppata mia sentenza.
El par che voi veggiate, se ben odo, dinanzi quel che 'l tempo seco adduce, e nel presente tenete altro modo”.
“Noi veggiam, come quei c'ha mala luce, le cose”, disse, “che ne son lontano; cotanto ancor ne splende il sommo duce.
Quando s'appressano o son, tutto e` vano nostro intelletto; e s'altri non ci apporta, nulla sapem di vostro stato umano.
Pero` comprender puoi che tutta morta fia nostra conoscenza da quel punto che del futuro fia chiusa la porta”.
Allor, come di mia colpa compunto, dissi: “Or direte dunque a quel caduto che 'l suo nato e` co'vivi ancor congiunto;
e s'i' fui, dianzi, a la risposta muto, fate i saper che 'l fei perche' pensava gia` ne l'error che m'avete soluto”.
E gia` 'l maestro mio mi richiamava; per ch'i' pregai lo spirto piu` avaccio che mi dicesse chi con lu' istava.
Dissemi: “Qui con piu` di mille giaccio: qua dentro e` 'l secondo Federico, e 'l Cardinale; e de li altri mi taccio”.
Indi s'ascose; e io inver' l'antico poeta volsi i passi, ripensando a quel parlar che mi parea nemico.
Elli si mosse; e poi, cosi` andando, mi disse: “Perche' se' tu si` smarrito?”. E io li sodisfeci al suo dimando.
“La mente tua conservi quel ch'udito hai contra te”, mi comando` quel saggio. “E ora attendi qui”, e drizzo` 'l dito:
“quando sarai dinanzi al dolce raggio di quella il cui bell'occhio tutto vede, da lei saprai di tua vita il viaggio”.
Appresso mosse a man sinistra il piede: lasciammo il muro e gimmo inver' lo mezzo per un sentier ch'a una valle fiede,
che 'nfin la` su` facea spiacer suo lezzo.
In su l'estremita` d'un'alta ripa che facevan gran pietre rotte in cerchio venimmo sopra piu` crudele stipa;
e quivi, per l'orribile soperchio del puzzo che 'l profondo abisso gitta, ci raccostammo, in dietro, ad un coperchio
d'un grand'avello, ov'io vidi una scritta che dicea: "Anastasio papa guardo, lo qual trasse Fotin de la via dritta".
“Lo nostro scender conviene esser tardo, si` che s'ausi un poco in prima il senso al tristo fiato; e poi no i fia riguardo”.
Cosi` 'l maestro; e io “Alcun compenso”, dissi lui, “trova che 'l tempo non passi perduto”. Ed elli: “Vedi ch'a cio` penso”.
“Figliuol mio, dentro da cotesti sassi”, comincio` poi a dir, “son tre cerchietti di grado in grado, come que' che lassi.
Tutti son pien di spirti maladetti; ma perche' poi ti basti pur la vista, intendi come e perche' son costretti.
D'ogne malizia, ch'odio in cielo acquista, ingiuria e` 'l fine, ed ogne fin cotale o con forza o con frode altrui contrista.
Ma perche' frode e` de l'uom proprio male, piu` spiace a Dio; e pero` stan di sotto li frodolenti, e piu` dolor li assale.
Di violenti il primo cerchio e` tutto; ma perche' si fa forza a tre persone, in tre gironi e` distinto e costrutto.
A Dio, a se', al prossimo si pone far forza, dico in loro e in lor cose, come udirai con aperta ragione.
Morte per forza e ferute dogliose nel prossimo si danno, e nel suo avere ruine, incendi e tollette dannose;
onde omicide e ciascun che mal fiere, guastatori e predon, tutti tormenta lo giron primo per diverse schiere.
Puote omo avere in se' man violenta e ne' suoi beni; e pero` nel secondo giron convien che sanza pro si penta
qualunque priva se' del vostro mondo, biscazza e fonde la sua facultade, e piange la` dov'esser de' giocondo.
Puossi far forza nella deitade, col cor negando e bestemmiando quella, e spregiando natura e sua bontade;
e pero` lo minor giron suggella del segno suo e Soddoma e Caorsa e chi, spregiando Dio col cor, favella.
La frode, ond'ogne coscienza e` morsa, puo` l'omo usare in colui che 'n lui fida e in quel che fidanza non imborsa.
Questo modo di retro par ch'incida pur lo vinco d'amor che fa natura; onde nel cerchio secondo s'annida
ipocresia, lusinghe e chi affattura, falsita`, ladroneccio e simonia, ruffian, baratti e simile lordura.
Per l'altro modo quell'amor s'oblia che fa natura, e quel ch'e` poi aggiunto, di che la fede spezial si cria;
onde nel cerchio minore, ov'e` 'l punto de l'universo in su che Dite siede, qualunque trade in etterno e` consunto”.
E io: “Maestro, assai chiara procede la tua ragione, e assai ben distingue questo baratro e 'l popol ch'e' possiede.
Ma dimmi: quei de la palude pingue, che mena il vento, e che batte la pioggia, e che s'incontran con si` aspre lingue,
perche' non dentro da la citta` roggia sono ei puniti, se Dio li ha in ira? e se non li ha, perche' sono a tal foggia?”.
Ed elli a me “Perche' tanto delira”, disse “lo 'ngegno tuo da quel che sole? o ver la mente dove altrove mira?
Non ti rimembra di quelle parole con le quai la tua Etica pertratta le tre disposizion che 'l ciel non vole,
incontenenza, malizia e la matta bestialitade? e come incontenenza men Dio offende e men biasimo accatta?
Se tu riguardi ben questa sentenza, e rechiti a la mente chi son quelli che su` di fuor sostegnon penitenza,
tu vedrai ben perche' da questi felli sien dipartiti, e perche' men crucciata la divina vendetta li martelli”.
“O sol che sani ogni vista turbata, tu mi contenti si` quando tu solvi, che, non men che saver, dubbiar m'aggrata.
Ancora in dietro un poco ti rivolvi”, diss'io, “la` dove di' ch'usura offende la divina bontade, e 'l groppo solvi”.
“Filosofia”, mi disse, “a chi la 'ntende, nota, non pure in una sola parte, come natura lo suo corso prende
dal divino 'ntelletto e da sua arte; e se tu ben la tua Fisica note, tu troverai, non dopo molte carte,
che l'arte vostra quella, quanto pote, segue, come 'l maestro fa 'l discente; si` che vostr'arte a Dio quasi e` nepote.
Da queste due, se tu ti rechi a mente lo Genesi` dal principio, convene prender sua vita e avanzar la gente;
e perche' l'usuriere altra via tene, per se' natura e per la sua seguace dispregia, poi ch'in altro pon la spene.
Ma seguimi oramai, che 'l gir mi piace; che' i Pesci guizzan su per l'orizzonta, e 'l Carro tutto sovra 'l Coro giace,
e 'l balzo via la` oltra si dismonta”.
Era lo loco ov'a scender la riva venimmo, alpestro e, per quel che v'er'anco, tal, ch'ogne vista ne sarebbe schiva.
Qual e` quella ruina che nel fianco di qua da Trento l'Adice percosse, o per tremoto o per sostegno manco,
che da cima del monte, onde si mosse, al piano e` si` la roccia discoscesa, ch'alcuna via darebbe a chi su` fosse:
cotal di quel burrato era la scesa; e 'n su la punta de la rotta lacca l'infamia di Creti era distesa
che fu concetta ne la falsa vacca; e quando vide noi, se' stesso morse, si` come quei cui l'ira dentro fiacca.
Lo savio mio inver' lui grido`: “Forse tu credi che qui sia 'l duca d'Atene, che su` nel mondo la morte ti porse?
Partiti, bestia: che' questi non vene ammaestrato da la tua sorella, ma vassi per veder le vostre pene”.
Qual e` quel toro che si slaccia in quella c'ha ricevuto gia` 'l colpo mortale, che gir non sa, ma qua e la` saltella,
vid'io lo Minotauro far cotale; e quello accorto grido`: “Corri al varco: mentre ch'e' 'nfuria, e` buon che tu ti cale”.
Cosi` prendemmo via giu` per lo scarco di quelle pietre, che spesso moviensi sotto i miei piedi per lo novo carco.
Io gia pensando; e quei disse: “Tu pensi forse a questa ruina ch'e` guardata da quell'ira bestial ch'i' ora spensi.
Or vo' che sappi che l'altra fiata ch'i' discesi qua giu` nel basso inferno, questa roccia non era ancor cascata.
Ma certo poco pria, se ben discerno, che venisse colui che la gran preda levo` a Dite del cerchio superno,
da tutte parti l'alta valle feda tremo` si`, ch'i' pensai che l'universo sentisse amor, per lo qual e` chi creda
piu` volte il mondo in caosso converso; e in quel punto questa vecchia roccia qui e altrove, tal fece riverso.
Ma ficca li occhi a valle, che' s'approccia la riviera del sangue in la qual bolle qual che per violenza in altrui noccia”.
Oh cieca cupidigia e ira folle, che si` ci sproni ne la vita corta, e ne l'etterna poi si` mal c'immolle!
Io vidi un'ampia fossa in arco torta, come quella che tutto 'l piano abbraccia, secondo ch'avea detto la mia scorta;
e tra 'l pie` de la ripa ed essa, in traccia corrien centauri, armati di saette, come solien nel mondo andare a caccia.
Veggendoci calar, ciascun ristette, e de la schiera tre si dipartiro con archi e asticciuole prima elette;
e l'un grido` da lungi: “A qual martiro venite voi che scendete la costa? Ditel costinci; se non, l'arco tiro”.
Lo mio maestro disse: “La risposta farem noi a Chiron costa` di presso: mal fu la voglia tua sempre si` tosta”.
Poi mi tento`, e disse: “Quelli e` Nesso, che mori` per la bella Deianira e fe' di se' la vendetta elli stesso.
E quel di mezzo, ch'al petto si mira, e` il gran Chiron, il qual nodri` Achille; quell'altro e` Folo, che fu si` pien d'ira.
Dintorno al fosso vanno a mille a mille, saettando qual anima si svelle del sangue piu` che sua colpa sortille”.
Noi ci appressammo a quelle fiere isnelle: Chiron prese uno strale, e con la cocca fece la barba in dietro a le mascelle.
Quando s'ebbe scoperta la gran bocca, disse a' compagni: “Siete voi accorti che quel di retro move cio` ch'el tocca?
Cosi` non soglion far li pie` d'i morti”. E 'l mio buon duca, che gia` li er'al petto, dove le due nature son consorti,
rispuose: “Ben e` vivo, e si` soletto mostrar li mi convien la valle buia; necessita` 'l ci 'nduce, e non diletto.
Tal si parti` da cantare alleluia che mi commise quest'officio novo: non e` ladron, ne' io anima fuia.
Ma per quella virtu` per cu' io movo li passi miei per si` selvaggia strada, danne un de' tuoi, a cui noi siamo a provo,
e che ne mostri la` dove si guada e che porti costui in su la groppa, che' non e` spirto che per l'aere vada”.
Chiron si volse in su la destra poppa, e disse a Nesso: “Torna, e si` li guida, e fa cansar s'altra schiera v'intoppa”.
Or ci movemmo con la scorta fida lungo la proda del bollor vermiglio, dove i bolliti facieno alte strida.
Io vidi gente sotto infino al ciglio; e 'l gran centauro disse: “E' son tiranni che dier nel sangue e ne l'aver di piglio.
Quivi si piangon li spietati danni; quivi e` Alessandro, e Dionisio fero, che fe' Cicilia aver dolorosi anni.
E quella fronte c'ha 'l pel cosi` nero, e` Azzolino; e quell'altro ch'e` biondo, e` Opizzo da Esti, il qual per vero
fu spento dal figliastro su` nel mondo”. Allor mi volsi al poeta, e quei disse: “Questi ti sia or primo, e io secondo”.
Poco piu` oltre il centauro s'affisse sovr'una gente che 'nfino a la gola parea che di quel bulicame uscisse.
Mostrocci un'ombra da l'un canto sola, dicendo: “Colui fesse in grembo a Dio lo cor che 'n su Tamisi ancor si cola”.
Poi vidi gente che di fuor del rio tenean la testa e ancor tutto 'l casso; e di costoro assai riconobb'io.
Cosi` a piu` a piu` si facea basso quel sangue, si` che cocea pur li piedi; e quindi fu del fosso il nostro passo.
“Si` come tu da questa parte vedi lo bulicame che sempre si scema”, disse 'l centauro, “voglio che tu credi
che da quest'altra a piu` a piu` giu` prema lo fondo suo, infin ch'el si raggiunge ove la tirannia convien che gema.
La divina giustizia di qua punge quell'Attila che fu flagello in terra e Pirro e Sesto; e in etterno munge
le lagrime, che col bollor diserra, a Rinier da Corneto, a Rinier Pazzo, che fecero a le strade tanta guerra”.
Poi si rivolse, e ripassossi 'l guazzo.
Non era ancor di la` Nesso arrivato, quando noi ci mettemmo per un bosco che da neun sentiero era segnato.
Non fronda verde, ma di color fosco; non rami schietti, ma nodosi e 'nvolti; non pomi v'eran, ma stecchi con tosco:
non han si` aspri sterpi ne' si` folti quelle fiere selvagge che 'n odio hanno tra Cecina e Corneto i luoghi colti.
Quivi le brutte Arpie lor nidi fanno, che cacciar de le Strofade i Troiani con tristo annunzio di futuro danno.
Ali hanno late, e colli e visi umani, pie` con artigli, e pennuto 'l gran ventre; fanno lamenti in su li alberi strani.
E 'l buon maestro “Prima che piu` entre, sappi che se' nel secondo girone”, mi comincio` a dire, “e sarai mentre
che tu verrai ne l'orribil sabbione. Pero` riguarda ben; si` vederai cose che torrien fede al mio sermone”.
Io sentia d'ogne parte trarre guai, e non vedea persona che 'l facesse; per ch'io tutto smarrito m'arrestai.
Cred'io ch'ei credette ch'io credesse che tante voci uscisser, tra quei bronchi da gente che per noi si nascondesse.
Pero` disse 'l maestro: “Se tu tronchi qualche fraschetta d'una d'este piante, li pensier c'hai si faran tutti monchi”.
Allor porsi la mano un poco avante, e colsi un ramicel da un gran pruno; e 'l tronco suo grido`: “Perche' mi schiante?”.
Da che fatto fu poi di sangue bruno, ricomincio` a dir: “Perche' mi scerpi? non hai tu spirto di pietade alcuno?
Uomini fummo, e or siam fatti sterpi: ben dovrebb'esser la tua man piu` pia, se state fossimo anime di serpi”.
Come d'un stizzo verde ch'arso sia da l'un de'capi, che da l'altro geme e cigola per vento che va via,
si` de la scheggia rotta usciva insieme parole e sangue; ond'io lasciai la cima cadere, e stetti come l'uom che teme.
“S'elli avesse potuto creder prima”, rispuose 'l savio mio, “anima lesa, cio` c'ha veduto pur con la mia rima,
non averebbe in te la man distesa; ma la cosa incredibile mi fece indurlo ad ovra ch'a me stesso pesa.
Ma dilli chi tu fosti, si` che 'n vece d'alcun'ammenda tua fama rinfreschi nel mondo su`, dove tornar li lece”.
E 'l tronco: “Si` col dolce dir m'adeschi, ch'i' non posso tacere; e voi non gravi perch'io un poco a ragionar m'inveschi.
Io son colui che tenni ambo le chiavi del cor di Federigo, e che le volsi, serrando e diserrando, si` soavi,
che dal secreto suo quasi ogn'uom tolsi: fede portai al glorioso offizio, tanto ch'i' ne perde' li sonni e ' polsi.
La meretrice che mai da l'ospizio di Cesare non torse li occhi putti, morte comune e de le corti vizio,
infiammo` contra me li animi tutti; e li 'nfiammati infiammar si` Augusto, che ' lieti onor tornaro in tristi lutti.
L'animo mio, per disdegnoso gusto, credendo col morir fuggir disdegno, ingiusto fece me contra me giusto.
Per le nove radici d'esto legno vi giuro che gia` mai non ruppi fede al mio segnor, che fu d'onor si` degno.
E se di voi alcun nel mondo riede, conforti la memoria mia, che giace ancor del colpo che 'nvidia le diede”.
Un poco attese, e poi “Da ch'el si tace”, disse 'l poeta a me, “non perder l'ora; ma parla, e chiedi a lui, se piu` ti piace”.
Ond'io a lui: “Domandal tu ancora di quel che credi ch'a me satisfaccia; ch'i' non potrei, tanta pieta` m'accora”.
Percio` ricomincio`: “Se l'om ti faccia liberamente cio` che 'l tuo dir priega, spirito incarcerato, ancor ti piaccia
di dirne come l'anima si lega in questi nocchi; e dinne, se tu puoi, s'alcuna mai di tai membra si spiega”.
Allor soffio` il tronco forte, e poi si converti` quel vento in cotal voce: “Brievemente sara` risposto a voi.
Quando si parte l'anima feroce dal corpo ond'ella stessa s'e` disvelta, Minos la manda a la settima foce.
Cade in la selva, e non l'e` parte scelta; ma la` dove fortuna la balestra, quivi germoglia come gran di spelta.
Surge in vermena e in pianta silvestra: l'Arpie, pascendo poi de le sue foglie, fanno dolore, e al dolor fenestra.
Come l'altre verrem per nostre spoglie, ma non pero` ch'alcuna sen rivesta, che' non e` giusto aver cio` ch'om si toglie.
Qui le trascineremo, e per la mesta selva saranno i nostri corpi appesi, ciascuno al prun de l'ombra sua molesta”.
Noi eravamo ancora al tronco attesi, credendo ch'altro ne volesse dire, quando noi fummo d'un romor sorpresi,
similemente a colui che venire sente 'l porco e la caccia a la sua posta, ch'ode le bestie, e le frasche stormire.
Ed ecco due da la sinistra costa, nudi e graffiati, fuggendo si` forte, che de la selva rompieno ogni rosta.
Quel dinanzi: “Or accorri, accorri, morte!”. E l'altro, cui pareva tardar troppo, gridava: “Lano, si` non furo accorte
le gambe tue a le giostre dal Toppo!”. E poi che forse li fallia la lena, di se' e d'un cespuglio fece un groppo.
Di rietro a loro era la selva piena di nere cagne, bramose e correnti come veltri ch'uscisser di catena.
In quel che s'appiatto` miser li denti, e quel dilaceraro a brano a brano; poi sen portar quelle membra dolenti.
Presemi allor la mia scorta per mano, e menommi al cespuglio che piangea, per le rotture sanguinenti in vano.
“O Iacopo”, dicea, “da Santo Andrea, che t'e` giovato di me fare schermo? che colpa ho io de la tua vita rea?”.
Quando 'l maestro fu sovr'esso fermo, disse “Chi fosti, che per tante punte soffi con sangue doloroso sermo?”.
Ed elli a noi: “O anime che giunte siete a veder lo strazio disonesto c'ha le mie fronde si` da me disgiunte,
raccoglietele al pie` del tristo cesto. I' fui de la citta` che nel Batista muto` il primo padrone; ond'ei per questo
sempre con l'arte sua la fara` trista; e se non fosse che 'n sul passo d'Arno rimane ancor di lui alcuna vista,
que' cittadin che poi la rifondarno sovra 'l cener che d'Attila rimase, avrebber fatto lavorare indarno.
Io fei gibbetto a me de le mie case”.
Poi che la carita` del natio loco mi strinse, raunai le fronde sparte, e rende'le a colui, ch'era gia` fioco.
Indi venimmo al fine ove si parte lo secondo giron dal terzo, e dove si vede di giustizia orribil arte.
A ben manifestar le cose nove, dico che arrivammo ad una landa che dal suo letto ogne pianta rimove.
La dolorosa selva l'e` ghirlanda intorno, come 'l fosso tristo ad essa: quivi fermammo i passi a randa a randa.
Lo spazzo era una rena arida e spessa, non d'altra foggia fatta che colei che fu da' pie` di Caton gia` soppressa.
O vendetta di Dio, quanto tu dei esser temuta da ciascun che legge cio` che fu manifesto a li occhi miei!
D'anime nude vidi molte gregge che piangean tutte assai miseramente, e parea posta lor diversa legge.
Supin giacea in terra alcuna gente, alcuna si sedea tutta raccolta, e altra andava continuamente.
Quella che giva intorno era piu` molta, e quella men che giacea al tormento, ma piu` al duolo avea la lingua sciolta.
Sovra tutto 'l sabbion, d'un cader lento, piovean di foco dilatate falde, come di neve in alpe sanza vento.
Quali Alessandro in quelle parti calde d'India vide sopra 'l suo stuolo fiamme cadere infino a terra salde,
per ch'ei provide a scalpitar lo suolo con le sue schiere, accio` che lo vapore mei si stingueva mentre ch'era solo:
tale scendeva l'etternale ardore; onde la rena s'accendea, com'esca sotto focile, a doppiar lo dolore.
Sanza riposo mai era la tresca de le misere mani, or quindi or quinci escotendo da se' l'arsura fresca.
I' cominciai: “Maestro, tu che vinci tutte le cose, fuor che ' demon duri ch'a l'intrar de la porta incontra uscinci,
chi e` quel grande che non par che curi lo 'ncendio e giace dispettoso e torto, si` che la pioggia non par che 'l marturi?”.
E quel medesmo, che si fu accorto ch'io domandava il mio duca di lui, grido`: “Qual io fui vivo, tal son morto.
Se Giove stanchi 'l suo fabbro da cui crucciato prese la folgore aguta onde l'ultimo di` percosso fui;
o s'elli stanchi li altri a muta a muta in Mongibello a la focina negra, chiamando "Buon Vulcano, aiuta, aiuta!",
si` com'el fece a la pugna di Flegra, e me saetti con tutta sua forza, non ne potrebbe aver vendetta allegra”.
Allora il duca mio parlo` di forza tanto, ch'i' non l'avea si` forte udito: “O Capaneo, in cio` che non s'ammorza
la tua superbia, se' tu piu` punito: nullo martiro, fuor che la tua rabbia, sarebbe al tuo furor dolor compito”.
Poi si rivolse a me con miglior labbia dicendo: “Quei fu l'un d'i sette regi ch'assiser Tebe; ed ebbe e par ch'elli abbia
Dio in disdegno, e poco par che 'l pregi; ma, com'io dissi lui, li suoi dispetti sono al suo petto assai debiti fregi.
Or mi vien dietro, e guarda che non metti, ancor, li piedi ne la rena arsiccia; ma sempre al bosco tien li piedi stretti”.
Tacendo divenimmo la` 've spiccia fuor de la selva un picciol fiumicello, lo cui rossore ancor mi raccapriccia.
Quale del Bulicame esce ruscello che parton poi tra lor le peccatrici, tal per la rena giu` sen giva quello.
Lo fondo suo e ambo le pendici fatt'era 'n pietra, e ' margini dallato; per ch'io m'accorsi che 'l passo era lici.
“Tra tutto l'altro ch'i' t'ho dimostrato, poscia che noi intrammo per la porta lo cui sogliare a nessuno e` negato,
cosa non fu da li tuoi occhi scorta notabile com'e` 'l presente rio, che sovra se' tutte fiammelle ammorta”.
Queste parole fuor del duca mio; per ch'io 'l pregai che mi largisse 'l pasto di cui largito m'avea il disio.
“In mezzo mar siede un paese guasto”, diss'elli allora, “che s'appella Creta, sotto 'l cui rege fu gia` 'l mondo casto.
Una montagna v'e` che gia` fu lieta d'acqua e di fronde, che si chiamo` Ida: or e` diserta come cosa vieta.
Rea la scelse gia` per cuna fida del suo figliuolo, e per celarlo meglio, quando piangea, vi facea far le grida.
Dentro dal monte sta dritto un gran veglio, che tien volte le spalle inver' Dammiata e Roma guarda come suo speglio.
La sua testa e` di fin oro formata, e puro argento son le braccia e 'l petto, poi e` di rame infino a la forcata;
da indi in giuso e` tutto ferro eletto, salvo che 'l destro piede e` terra cotta; e sta 'n su quel piu` che 'n su l'altro, eretto.
Ciascuna parte, fuor che l'oro, e` rotta d'una fessura che lagrime goccia, le quali, accolte, foran quella grotta.
Lor corso in questa valle si diroccia: fanno Acheronte, Stige e Flegetonta; poi sen van giu` per questa stretta doccia
infin, la` ove piu` non si dismonta fanno Cocito; e qual sia quello stagno tu lo vedrai, pero` qui non si conta”.
E io a lui: “Se 'l presente rigagno si diriva cosi` dal nostro mondo, perche' ci appar pur a questo vivagno?”.
Ed elli a me: “Tu sai che 'l loco e` tondo; e tutto che tu sie venuto molto, pur a sinistra, giu` calando al fondo,
non se' ancor per tutto il cerchio volto: per che, se cosa n'apparisce nova, non de' addur maraviglia al tuo volto”.
E io ancor: “Maestro, ove si trova Flegetonta e Lete`? che' de l'un taci, e l'altro di' che si fa d'esta piova”.
“In tutte tue question certo mi piaci”, rispuose; “ma 'l bollor de l'acqua rossa dovea ben solver l'una che tu faci.
Lete` vedrai, ma fuor di questa fossa, la` dove vanno l'anime a lavarsi quando la colpa pentuta e` rimossa”.
Poi disse: “Omai e` tempo da scostarsi dal bosco; fa che di retro a me vegne: li margini fan via, che non son arsi,
e sopra loro ogne vapor si spegne”.
Ora cen porta l'un de' duri margini; e 'l fummo del ruscel di sopra aduggia, si` che dal foco salva l'acqua e li argini.
Quali Fiamminghi tra Guizzante e Bruggia, temendo 'l fiotto che 'nver lor s'avventa, fanno lo schermo perche' 'l mar si fuggia;
e quali Padoan lungo la Brenta, per difender lor ville e lor castelli, anzi che Carentana il caldo senta:
a tale imagine eran fatti quelli, tutto che ne' si` alti ne' si` grossi, qual che si fosse, lo maestro felli.
Gia` eravam da la selva rimossi tanto, ch'i' non avrei visto dov'era, perch'io in dietro rivolto mi fossi,
quando incontrammo d'anime una schiera che venian lungo l'argine, e ciascuna ci riguardava come suol da sera
guardare uno altro sotto nuova luna; e si` ver' noi aguzzavan le ciglia come 'l vecchio sartor fa ne la cruna.
Cosi` adocchiato da cotal famiglia, fui conosciuto da un, che mi prese per lo lembo e grido`: “Qual maraviglia!”.
E io, quando 'l suo braccio a me distese, ficcai li occhi per lo cotto aspetto, si` che 'l viso abbrusciato non difese
la conoscenza sua al mio 'ntelletto; e chinando la mano a la sua faccia, rispuosi: “Siete voi qui, ser Brunetto?”.
E quelli: “O figliuol mio, non ti dispiaccia se Brunetto Latino un poco teco ritorna 'n dietro e lascia andar la traccia”.
I' dissi lui: “Quanto posso, ven preco; e se volete che con voi m'asseggia, farol, se piace a costui che vo seco”.
“O figliuol”, disse, “qual di questa greggia s'arresta punto, giace poi cent'anni sanz'arrostarsi quando 'l foco il feggia.
Pero` va oltre: i' ti verro` a' panni; e poi rigiugnero` la mia masnada, che va piangendo i suoi etterni danni”.
I' non osava scender de la strada per andar par di lui; ma 'l capo chino tenea com'uom che reverente vada.
El comincio`: “Qual fortuna o destino anzi l'ultimo di` qua giu` ti mena? e chi e` questi che mostra 'l cammino?”.
“La` su` di sopra, in la vita serena”, rispuos'io lui, “mi smarri' in una valle, avanti che l'eta` mia fosse piena.
Pur ier mattina le volsi le spalle: questi m'apparve, tornand'io in quella, e reducemi a ca per questo calle”.
Ed elli a me: “Se tu segui tua stella, non puoi fallire a glorioso porto, se ben m'accorsi ne la vita bella;
e s'io non fossi si` per tempo morto, veggendo il cielo a te cosi` benigno, dato t'avrei a l'opera conforto.
Ma quello ingrato popolo maligno che discese di Fiesole ab antico, e tiene ancor del monte e del macigno,
ti si fara`, per tuo ben far, nimico: ed e` ragion, che' tra li lazzi sorbi si disconvien fruttare al dolce fico.
Vecchia fama nel mondo li chiama orbi; gent'e` avara, invidiosa e superba: dai lor costumi fa che tu ti forbi.
La tua fortuna tanto onor ti serba, che l'una parte e l'altra avranno fame di te; ma lungi fia dal becco l'erba.
Faccian le bestie fiesolane strame di lor medesme, e non tocchin la pianta, s'alcuna surge ancora in lor letame,
in cui riviva la sementa santa di que' Roman che vi rimaser quando fu fatto il nido di malizia tanta”.
“Se fosse tutto pieno il mio dimando”, rispuos'io lui, “voi non sareste ancora de l'umana natura posto in bando;
che' 'n la mente m'e` fitta, e or m'accora, la cara e buona imagine paterna di voi quando nel mondo ad ora ad ora
m'insegnavate come l'uom s'etterna: e quant'io l'abbia in grado, mentr'io vivo convien che ne la mia lingua si scerna.
Cio` che narrate di mio corso scrivo, e serbolo a chiosar con altro testo a donna che sapra`, s'a lei arrivo.
Tanto vogl'io che vi sia manifesto, pur che mia coscienza non mi garra, che a la Fortuna, come vuol, son presto.
Non e` nuova a li orecchi miei tal arra: pero` giri Fortuna la sua rota come le piace, e 'l villan la sua marra”.
Lo mio maestro allora in su la gota destra si volse in dietro, e riguardommi; poi disse: “Bene ascolta chi la nota”.
Ne' per tanto di men parlando vommi con ser Brunetto, e dimando chi sono li suoi compagni piu` noti e piu` sommi.
Ed elli a me: “Saper d'alcuno e` buono; de li altri fia laudabile tacerci, che' 'l tempo saria corto a tanto suono.
In somma sappi che tutti fur cherci e litterati grandi e di gran fama, d'un peccato medesmo al mondo lerci.
Priscian sen va con quella turba grama, e Francesco d'Accorso anche; e vedervi, s'avessi avuto di tal tigna brama,
colui potei che dal servo de' servi fu trasmutato d'Arno in Bacchiglione, dove lascio` li mal protesi nervi.
Di piu` direi; ma 'l venire e 'l sermone piu` lungo esser non puo`, pero` ch'i' veggio la` surger nuovo fummo del sabbione.
Gente vien con la quale esser non deggio. Sieti raccomandato il mio Tesoro nel qual io vivo ancora, e piu` non cheggio”.
Poi si rivolse, e parve di coloro che corrono a Verona il drappo verde per la campagna; e parve di costoro
quelli che vince, non colui che perde.
Gia` era in loco onde s'udia 'l rimbombo de l'acqua che cadea ne l'altro giro, simile a quel che l'arnie fanno rombo,
quando tre ombre insieme si partiro, correndo, d'una torma che passava sotto la pioggia de l'aspro martiro.
Venian ver noi, e ciascuna gridava: “Sostati tu ch'a l'abito ne sembri esser alcun di nostra terra prava”.
Ahime`, che piaghe vidi ne' lor membri ricenti e vecchie, da le fiamme incese! Ancor men duol pur ch'i' me ne rimembri.
A le lor grida il mio dottor s'attese; volse 'l viso ver me, e: “Or aspetta”, disse “a costor si vuole esser cortese.
E se non fosse il foco che saetta la natura del loco, i' dicerei che meglio stesse a te che a lor la fretta”.
Ricominciar, come noi restammo, ei l'antico verso; e quando a noi fuor giunti, fenno una rota di se' tutti e trei.
Qual sogliono i campion far nudi e unti, avvisando lor presa e lor vantaggio, prima che sien tra lor battuti e punti,
cosi` rotando, ciascuno il visaggio drizzava a me, si` che 'n contraro il collo faceva ai pie` continuo viaggio.
E “Se miseria d'esto loco sollo rende in dispetto noi e nostri prieghi”, comincio` l'uno “e 'l tinto aspetto e brollo,
la fama nostra il tuo animo pieghi a dirne chi tu se', che i vivi piedi cosi` sicuro per lo 'nferno freghi.
Questi, l'orme di cui pestar mi vedi, tutto che nudo e dipelato vada, fu di grado maggior che tu non credi:
nepote fu de la buona Gualdrada; Guido Guerra ebbe nome, e in sua vita fece col senno assai e con la spada.
L'altro, ch'appresso me la rena trita, e` Tegghiaio Aldobrandi, la cui voce nel mondo su` dovria esser gradita.
E io, che posto son con loro in croce, Iacopo Rusticucci fui; e certo la fiera moglie piu` ch'altro mi nuoce”.
S'i' fossi stato dal foco coperto, gittato mi sarei tra lor di sotto, e credo che 'l dottor l'avria sofferto;
ma perch'io mi sarei brusciato e cotto, vinse paura la mia buona voglia che di loro abbracciar mi facea ghiotto.
Poi cominciai: “Non dispetto, ma doglia la vostra condizion dentro mi fisse, tanta che tardi tutta si dispoglia,
tosto che questo mio segnor mi disse parole per le quali i' mi pensai che qual voi siete, tal gente venisse.
Di vostra terra sono, e sempre mai l'ovra di voi e li onorati nomi con affezion ritrassi e ascoltai.
Lascio lo fele e vo per dolci pomi promessi a me per lo verace duca; ma 'nfino al centro pria convien ch'i' tomi”.
“Se lungamente l'anima conduca le membra tue”, rispuose quelli ancora, “e se la fama tua dopo te luca,
cortesia e valor di` se dimora ne la nostra citta` si` come suole, o se del tutto se n'e` gita fora;
che' Guiglielmo Borsiere, il qual si duole con noi per poco e va la` coi compagni, assai ne cruccia con le sue parole”.
“La gente nuova e i subiti guadagni orgoglio e dismisura han generata, Fiorenza, in te, si` che tu gia` ten piagni”.
Cosi` gridai con la faccia levata; e i tre, che cio` inteser per risposta, guardar l'un l'altro com'al ver si guata.
“Se l'altre volte si` poco ti costa”, rispuoser tutti “il satisfare altrui, felice te se si` parli a tua posta!
Pero`, se campi d'esti luoghi bui e torni a riveder le belle stelle, quando ti giovera` dicere "I' fui",
fa che di noi a la gente favelle”. Indi rupper la rota, e a fuggirsi ali sembiar le gambe loro isnelle.
Un amen non saria potuto dirsi tosto cosi` com'e' fuoro spariti; per ch'al maestro parve di partirsi.
Io lo seguiva, e poco eravam iti, che 'l suon de l'acqua n'era si` vicino, che per parlar saremmo a pena uditi.
Come quel fiume c'ha proprio cammino prima dal Monte Viso 'nver' levante, da la sinistra costa d'Apennino,
che si chiama Acquacheta suso, avante che si divalli giu` nel basso letto, e a Forli` di quel nome e` vacante,
rimbomba la` sovra San Benedetto de l'Alpe per cadere ad una scesa ove dovea per mille esser recetto;
cosi`, giu` d'una ripa discoscesa, trovammo risonar quell'acqua tinta, si` che 'n poc'ora avria l'orecchia offesa.
Io avea una corda intorno cinta, e con essa pensai alcuna volta prender la lonza a la pelle dipinta.
Poscia ch'io l'ebbi tutta da me sciolta, si` come 'l duca m'avea comandato, porsila a lui aggroppata e ravvolta.
Ond'ei si volse inver' lo destro lato, e alquanto di lunge da la sponda la gitto` giuso in quell'alto burrato.
'E' pur convien che novita` risponda' dicea fra me medesmo 'al novo cenno che 'l maestro con l'occhio si` seconda'.
Ahi quanto cauti li uomini esser dienno presso a color che non veggion pur l'ovra, ma per entro i pensier miran col senno!
El disse a me: “Tosto verra` di sovra cio` ch'io attendo e che il tuo pensier sogna: tosto convien ch'al tuo viso si scovra”.
Sempre a quel ver c'ha faccia di menzogna de' l'uom chiuder le labbra fin ch'el puote, pero` che sanza colpa fa vergogna;
ma qui tacer nol posso; e per le note di questa comedia, lettor, ti giuro, s'elle non sien di lunga grazia vote,
ch'i' vidi per quell'aere grosso e scuro venir notando una figura in suso, maravigliosa ad ogne cor sicuro,
si` come torna colui che va giuso talora a solver l'ancora ch'aggrappa o scoglio o altro che nel mare e` chiuso,
che 'n su` si stende, e da pie` si rattrappa.
“Ecco la fiera con la coda aguzza, che passa i monti, e rompe i muri e l'armi! Ecco colei che tutto 'l mondo appuzza!”.
Si` comincio` lo mio duca a parlarmi; e accennolle che venisse a proda vicino al fin d'i passeggiati marmi.
E quella sozza imagine di froda sen venne, e arrivo` la testa e 'l busto, ma 'n su la riva non trasse la coda.
La faccia sua era faccia d'uom giusto, tanto benigna avea di fuor la pelle, e d'un serpente tutto l'altro fusto;
due branche avea pilose insin l'ascelle; lo dosso e 'l petto e ambedue le coste dipinti avea di nodi e di rotelle.
Con piu` color, sommesse e sovraposte non fer mai drappi Tartari ne' Turchi, ne' fuor tai tele per Aragne imposte.
Come tal volta stanno a riva i burchi, che parte sono in acqua e parte in terra, e come la` tra li Tedeschi lurchi
lo bivero s'assetta a far sua guerra, cosi` la fiera pessima si stava su l'orlo ch'e` di pietra e 'l sabbion serra.
Nel vano tutta sua coda guizzava, torcendo in su` la venenosa forca ch'a guisa di scorpion la punta armava.
Lo duca disse: “Or convien che si torca la nostra via un poco insino a quella bestia malvagia che cola` si corca”.
Pero` scendemmo a la destra mammella, e diece passi femmo in su lo stremo, per ben cessar la rena e la fiammella.
E quando noi a lei venuti semo, poco piu` oltre veggio in su la rena gente seder propinqua al loco scemo.
Quivi 'l maestro “Accio` che tutta piena esperienza d'esto giron porti”, mi disse, “va, e vedi la lor mena.
Li tuoi ragionamenti sian la` corti: mentre che torni, parlero` con questa, che ne conceda i suoi omeri forti”.
Cosi` ancor su per la strema testa di quel settimo cerchio tutto solo andai, dove sedea la gente mesta.
Per li occhi fora scoppiava lor duolo; e` di qua, di la` soccorrien con le mani quando a' vapori, e quando al caldo suolo:
non altrimenti fan di state i cani or col ceffo, or col pie`, quando son morsi o da pulci o da mosche o da tafani.
Poi che nel viso a certi li occhi porsi, ne' quali 'l doloroso foco casca, non ne conobbi alcun; ma io m'accorsi
che dal collo a ciascun pendea una tasca ch'avea certo colore e certo segno, e quindi par che 'l loro occhio si pasca.
E com'io riguardando tra lor vegno, in una borsa gialla vidi azzurro che d'un leone avea faccia e contegno.
Poi, procedendo di mio sguardo il curro, vidine un'altra come sangue rossa, mostrando un'oca bianca piu` che burro.
E un che d'una scrofa azzurra e grossa segnato avea lo suo sacchetto bianco, mi disse: “Che fai tu in questa fossa?
Or te ne va; e perche' se' vivo anco, sappi che 'l mio vicin Vitaliano sedera` qui dal mio sinistro fianco.
Con questi Fiorentin son padoano: spesse fiate mi 'ntronan li orecchi gridando: "Vegna 'l cavalier sovrano,
che rechera` la tasca con tre becchi!"“. Qui distorse la bocca e di fuor trasse la lingua, come bue che 'l naso lecchi.
E io, temendo no 'l piu` star crucciasse lui che di poco star m'avea 'mmonito, torna'mi in dietro da l'anime lasse.
Trova' il duca mio ch'era salito gia` su la groppa del fiero animale, e disse a me: “Or sie forte e ardito.
Omai si scende per si` fatte scale: monta dinanzi, ch'i' voglio esser mezzo, si` che la coda non possa far male”.
Qual e` colui che si` presso ha 'l riprezzo de la quartana, c'ha gia` l'unghie smorte, e triema tutto pur guardando 'l rezzo,
tal divenn'io a le parole porte; ma vergogna mi fe' le sue minacce, che innanzi a buon segnor fa servo forte.
I' m'assettai in su quelle spallacce; si` volli dir, ma la voce non venne com'io credetti: 'Fa che tu m'abbracce'.
Ma esso, ch'altra volta mi sovvenne ad altro forse, tosto ch'i' montai con le braccia m'avvinse e mi sostenne;
e disse: “Gerion, moviti omai: le rote larghe e lo scender sia poco: pensa la nova soma che tu hai”.
Come la navicella esce di loco in dietro in dietro, si` quindi si tolse; e poi ch'al tutto si senti` a gioco,
la` 'v'era 'l petto, la coda rivolse, e quella tesa, come anguilla, mosse, e con le branche l'aere a se' raccolse.
Maggior paura non credo che fosse quando Fetonte abbandono` li freni, per che 'l ciel, come pare ancor, si cosse;
ne' quando Icaro misero le reni senti` spennar per la scaldata cera, gridando il padre a lui “Mala via tieni!”,
che fu la mia, quando vidi ch'i' era ne l'aere d'ogne parte, e vidi spenta ogne veduta fuor che de la fera.
Ella sen va notando lenta lenta: rota e discende, ma non me n'accorgo se non che al viso e di sotto mi venta.
Io sentia gia` da la man destra il gorgo far sotto noi un orribile scroscio, per che con li occhi 'n giu` la testa sporgo.
Allor fu' io piu` timido a lo stoscio, pero` ch'i' vidi fuochi e senti' pianti; ond'io tremando tutto mi raccoscio.
E vidi poi, che' nol vedea davanti, lo scendere e 'l girar per li gran mali che s'appressavan da diversi canti.
Come 'l falcon ch'e` stato assai su l'ali, che sanza veder logoro o uccello fa dire al falconiere “Ome`, tu cali!”,
discende lasso onde si move isnello, per cento rote, e da lunge si pone dal suo maestro, disdegnoso e fello;
cosi` ne puose al fondo Gerione al pie` al pie` de la stagliata rocca e, discarcate le nostre persone,
si dileguo` come da corda cocca.
Luogo e` in inferno detto Malebolge, tutto di pietra di color ferrigno, come la cerchia che dintorno il volge.
Nel dritto mezzo del campo maligno vaneggia un pozzo assai largo e profondo, di cui suo loco dicero` l'ordigno.
Quel cinghio che rimane adunque e` tondo tra 'l pozzo e 'l pie` de l'alta ripa dura, e ha distinto in dieci valli il fondo.
Quale, dove per guardia de le mura piu` e piu` fossi cingon li castelli, la parte dove son rende figura,
tale imagine quivi facean quelli; e come a tai fortezze da' lor sogli a la ripa di fuor son ponticelli,
cosi` da imo de la roccia scogli movien che ricidien li argini e ' fossi infino al pozzo che i tronca e raccogli.
In questo luogo, de la schiena scossi di Gerion, trovammoci; e 'l poeta tenne a sinistra, e io dietro mi mossi.
A la man destra vidi nova pieta, novo tormento e novi frustatori, di che la prima bolgia era repleta.
Nel fondo erano ignudi i peccatori; dal mezzo in qua ci venien verso 'l volto, di la` con noi, ma con passi maggiori,
come i Roman per l'essercito molto, l'anno del giubileo, su per lo ponte hanno a passar la gente modo colto,
che da l'un lato tutti hanno la fronte verso 'l castello e vanno a Santo Pietro; da l'altra sponda vanno verso 'l monte.
Di qua, di la`, su per lo sasso tetro vidi demon cornuti con gran ferze, che li battien crudelmente di retro.
Ahi come facean lor levar le berze a le prime percosse! gia` nessuno le seconde aspettava ne' le terze.
Mentr'io andava, li occhi miei in uno furo scontrati; e io si` tosto dissi: “Gia` di veder costui non son digiuno”.
Per ch'io a figurarlo i piedi affissi; e 'l dolce duca meco si ristette, e assentio ch'alquanto in dietro gissi.
E quel frustato celar si credette bassando 'l viso; ma poco li valse, ch'io dissi: “O tu che l'occhio a terra gette,
se le fazion che porti non son false, Venedico se' tu Caccianemico. Ma che ti mena a si` pungenti salse?”.
Ed elli a me: “Mal volentier lo dico; ma sforzami la tua chiara favella, che mi fa sovvenir del mondo antico.
I' fui colui che la Ghisolabella condussi a far la voglia del marchese, come che suoni la sconcia novella.
E non pur io qui piango bolognese; anzi n'e` questo luogo tanto pieno, che tante lingue non son ora apprese
a dicer 'sipa' tra Savena e Reno; e se di cio` vuoi fede o testimonio, recati a mente il nostro avaro seno”.
Cosi` parlando il percosse un demonio de la sua scuriada, e disse: “Via, ruffian! qui non son femmine da conio”.
I' mi raggiunsi con la scorta mia; poscia con pochi passi divenimmo la` 'v'uno scoglio de la ripa uscia.
Assai leggeramente quel salimmo; e volti a destra su per la sua scheggia, da quelle cerchie etterne ci partimmo.
Quando noi fummo la` dov'el vaneggia di sotto per dar passo a li sferzati, lo duca disse: “Attienti, e fa che feggia
lo viso in te di quest'altri mal nati, ai quali ancor non vedesti la faccia pero` che son con noi insieme andati”.
Del vecchio ponte guardavam la traccia che venia verso noi da l'altra banda, e che la ferza similmente scaccia.
E 'l buon maestro, sanza mia dimanda, mi disse: “Guarda quel grande che vene, e per dolor non par lagrime spanda:
quanto aspetto reale ancor ritene! Quelli e` Iason, che per cuore e per senno li Colchi del monton privati fene.
Ello passo` per l'isola di Lenno, poi che l'ardite femmine spietate tutti li maschi loro a morte dienno.
Ivi con segni e con parole ornate Isifile inganno`, la giovinetta che prima avea tutte l'altre ingannate.
Lasciolla quivi, gravida, soletta; tal colpa a tal martiro lui condanna; e anche di Medea si fa vendetta.
Con lui sen va chi da tal parte inganna: e questo basti de la prima valle sapere e di color che 'n se' assanna”.
Gia` eravam la` 've lo stretto calle con l'argine secondo s'incrocicchia, e fa di quello ad un altr'arco spalle.
Quindi sentimmo gente che si nicchia ne l'altra bolgia e che col muso scuffa, e se' medesma con le palme picchia.
Le ripe eran grommate d'una muffa, per l'alito di giu` che vi s'appasta, che con li occhi e col naso facea zuffa.
Lo fondo e` cupo si`, che non ci basta loco a veder sanza montare al dosso de l'arco, ove lo scoglio piu` sovrasta.
Quivi venimmo; e quindi giu` nel fosso vidi gente attuffata in uno sterco che da li uman privadi parea mosso.
E mentre ch'io la` giu` con l'occhio cerco, vidi un col capo si` di merda lordo, che non parea s'era laico o cherco.
Quei mi sgrido`: “Perche' se' tu si` gordo di riguardar piu` me che li altri brutti?”. E io a lui: “Perche', se ben ricordo,
gia` t'ho veduto coi capelli asciutti, e se' Alessio Interminei da Lucca: pero` t'adocchio piu` che li altri tutti”.
Ed elli allor, battendosi la zucca: “Qua giu` m'hanno sommerso le lusinghe ond'io non ebbi mai la lingua stucca”.
Appresso cio` lo duca “Fa che pinghe”, mi disse “il viso un poco piu` avante, si` che la faccia ben con l'occhio attinghe
di quella sozza e scapigliata fante che la` si graffia con l'unghie merdose, e or s'accoscia e ora e` in piedi stante.
Taide e`, la puttana che rispuose al drudo suo quando disse "Ho io grazie grandi apo te?": "Anzi maravigliose!".
E quinci sien le nostre viste sazie”.
O Simon mago, o miseri seguaci che le cose di Dio, che di bontate deon essere spose, e voi rapaci
per oro e per argento avolterate, or convien che per voi suoni la tromba, pero` che ne la terza bolgia state.
Gia` eravamo, a la seguente tomba, montati de lo scoglio in quella parte ch'a punto sovra mezzo 'l fosso piomba.
O somma sapienza, quanta e` l'arte che mostri in cielo, in terra e nel mal mondo, e quanto giusto tua virtu` comparte!
Io vidi per le coste e per lo fondo piena la pietra livida di fori, d'un largo tutti e ciascun era tondo.
Non mi parean men ampi ne' maggiori che que' che son nel mio bel San Giovanni, fatti per loco d'i battezzatori;
l'un de li quali, ancor non e` molt'anni, rupp'io per un che dentro v'annegava: e questo sia suggel ch'ogn'omo sganni.
Fuor de la bocca a ciascun soperchiava d'un peccator li piedi e de le gambe infino al grosso, e l'altro dentro stava.
Le piante erano a tutti accese intrambe; per che si` forte guizzavan le giunte, che spezzate averien ritorte e strambe.
Qual suole il fiammeggiar de le cose unte muoversi pur su per la strema buccia, tal era li` dai calcagni a le punte.
“Chi e` colui, maestro, che si cruccia guizzando piu` che li altri suoi consorti”, diss'io, “e cui piu` roggia fiamma succia?”.
Ed elli a me: “Se tu vuo' ch'i' ti porti la` giu` per quella ripa che piu` giace, da lui saprai di se' e de' suoi torti”.
E io: “Tanto m'e` bel, quanto a te piace: tu se' segnore, e sai ch'i' non mi parto dal tuo volere, e sai quel che si tace”.
Allor venimmo in su l'argine quarto: volgemmo e discendemmo a mano stanca la` giu` nel fondo foracchiato e arto.
Lo buon maestro ancor de la sua anca non mi dipuose, si` mi giunse al rotto di quel che si piangeva con la zanca.
“O qual che se' che 'l di su` tien di sotto, anima trista come pal commessa”, comincia' io a dir, “se puoi, fa motto”.
Io stava come 'l frate che confessa lo perfido assessin, che, poi ch'e` fitto, richiama lui, per che la morte cessa.
Ed el grido`: “Se' tu gia` costi` ritto, se' tu gia` costi` ritto, Bonifazio? Di parecchi anni mi menti` lo scritto.
Se' tu si` tosto di quell'aver sazio per lo qual non temesti torre a 'nganno la bella donna, e poi di farne strazio?”.
Tal mi fec'io, quai son color che stanno, per non intender cio` ch'e` lor risposto, quasi scornati, e risponder non sanno.
Allor Virgilio disse: “Dilli tosto: "Non son colui, non son colui che credi"“; e io rispuosi come a me fu imposto.
Per che lo spirto tutti storse i piedi; poi, sospirando e con voce di pianto, mi disse: “Dunque che a me richiedi?
Se di saper ch'i' sia ti cal cotanto, che tu abbi pero` la ripa corsa, sappi ch'i' fui vestito del gran manto;
e veramente fui figliuol de l'orsa, cupido si` per avanzar li orsatti, che su` l'avere e qui me misi in borsa.
Di sotto al capo mio son li altri tratti che precedetter me simoneggiando, per le fessure de la pietra piatti.
La` giu` caschero` io altresi` quando verra` colui ch'i' credea che tu fossi allor ch'i' feci 'l subito dimando.
Ma piu` e` 'l tempo gia` che i pie` mi cossi e ch'i' son stato cosi` sottosopra, ch'el non stara` piantato coi pie` rossi:
che' dopo lui verra` di piu` laida opra di ver' ponente, un pastor sanza legge, tal che convien che lui e me ricuopra.
Novo Iason sara`, di cui si legge ne' Maccabei; e come a quel fu molle suo re, cosi` fia lui chi Francia regge”.
Io non so s'i' mi fui qui troppo folle, ch'i' pur rispuosi lui a questo metro: “Deh, or mi di`: quanto tesoro volle
Nostro Segnore in prima da san Pietro ch'ei ponesse le chiavi in sua balia? Certo non chiese se non "Viemmi retro".
Ne' Pier ne' li altri tolsero a Matia oro od argento, quando fu sortito al loco che perde' l'anima ria.
Pero` ti sta, che' tu se' ben punito; e guarda ben la mal tolta moneta ch'esser ti fece contra Carlo ardito.
E se non fosse ch'ancor lo mi vieta la reverenza delle somme chiavi che tu tenesti ne la vita lieta,
io userei parole ancor piu` gravi; che' la vostra avarizia il mondo attrista, calcando i buoni e sollevando i pravi.
Di voi pastor s'accorse il Vangelista, quando colei che siede sopra l'acque puttaneggiar coi regi a lui fu vista;
quella che con le sette teste nacque, e da le diece corna ebbe argomento, fin che virtute al suo marito piacque.
Fatto v'avete Dio d'oro e d'argento; e che altro e` da voi a l'idolatre, se non ch'elli uno, e voi ne orate cento?
Ahi, Costantin, di quanto mal fu matre, non la tua conversion, ma quella dote che da te prese il primo ricco patre!”.
E mentr'io li cantava cotai note, o ira o coscienza che 'l mordesse, forte spingava con ambo le piote.
I' credo ben ch'al mio duca piacesse, con si` contenta labbia sempre attese lo suon de le parole vere espresse.
Pero` con ambo le braccia mi prese; e poi che tutto su mi s'ebbe al petto, rimonto` per la via onde discese.
Ne' si stanco` d'avermi a se' distretto, si` men porto` sovra 'l colmo de l'arco che dal quarto al quinto argine e` tragetto.
Quivi soavemente spuose il carco, soave per lo scoglio sconcio ed erto che sarebbe a le capre duro varco.
Indi un altro vallon mi fu scoperto.
Di nova pena mi conven far versi e dar matera al ventesimo canto de la prima canzon ch'e` d'i sommersi.
Io era gia` disposto tutto quanto a riguardar ne lo scoperto fondo, che si bagnava d'angoscioso pianto;
e vidi gente per lo vallon tondo venir, tacendo e lagrimando, al passo che fanno le letane in questo mondo.
Come 'l viso mi scese in lor piu` basso, mirabilmente apparve esser travolto ciascun tra 'l mento e 'l principio del casso;
che' da le reni era tornato 'l volto, e in dietro venir li convenia, perche' 'l veder dinanzi era lor tolto.
Forse per forza gia` di parlasia si travolse cosi` alcun del tutto; ma io nol vidi, ne' credo che sia.
Se Dio ti lasci, lettor, prender frutto di tua lezione, or pensa per te stesso com'io potea tener lo viso asciutto,
quando la nostra imagine di presso vidi si` torta, che 'l pianto de li occhi le natiche bagnava per lo fesso.
Certo io piangea, poggiato a un de' rocchi del duro scoglio, si` che la mia scorta mi disse: “Ancor se' tu de li altri sciocchi?
Qui vive la pieta` quand'e` ben morta; chi e` piu` scellerato che colui che al giudicio divin passion comporta?
Drizza la testa, drizza, e vedi a cui s'aperse a li occhi d'i Teban la terra; per ch'ei gridavan tutti: "Dove rui,
Anfiarao? perche' lasci la guerra?". E non resto` di ruinare a valle fino a Minos che ciascheduno afferra.
Mira c'ha fatto petto de le spalle: perche' volle veder troppo davante, di retro guarda e fa retroso calle.
Vedi Tiresia, che muto` sembiante quando di maschio femmina divenne cangiandosi le membra tutte quante;
e prima, poi, ribatter li convenne li duo serpenti avvolti, con la verga, che riavesse le maschili penne.
Aronta e` quel ch'al ventre li s'atterga, che ne' monti di Luni, dove ronca lo Carrarese che di sotto alberga,
ebbe tra ' bianchi marmi la spelonca per sua dimora; onde a guardar le stelle e 'l mar no li era la veduta tronca.
E quella che ricuopre le mammelle, che tu non vedi, con le trecce sciolte, e ha di la` ogne pilosa pelle,
Manto fu, che cerco` per terre molte; poscia si puose la` dove nacqu'io; onde un poco mi piace che m'ascolte.
Poscia che 'l padre suo di vita uscio, e venne serva la citta` di Baco, questa gran tempo per lo mondo gio.
Suso in Italia bella giace un laco, a pie` de l'Alpe che serra Lamagna sovra Tiralli, c'ha nome Benaco.
Per mille fonti, credo, e piu` si bagna tra Garda e Val Camonica e Pennino de l'acqua che nel detto laco stagna.
Loco e` nel mezzo la` dove 'l trentino pastore e quel di Brescia e 'l veronese segnar poria, s'e' fesse quel cammino.
Siede Peschiera, bello e forte arnese da fronteggiar Bresciani e Bergamaschi, ove la riva 'ntorno piu` discese.
Ivi convien che tutto quanto caschi cio` che 'n grembo a Benaco star non puo`, e fassi fiume giu` per verdi paschi.
Tosto che l'acqua a correr mette co, non piu` Benaco, ma Mencio si chiama fino a Governol, dove cade in Po.
Non molto ha corso, ch'el trova una lama, ne la qual si distende e la 'mpaluda; e suol di state talor essere grama.
Quindi passando la vergine cruda vide terra, nel mezzo del pantano, sanza coltura e d'abitanti nuda.
Li`, per fuggire ogne consorzio umano, ristette con suoi servi a far sue arti, e visse, e vi lascio` suo corpo vano.
Li uomini poi che 'ntorno erano sparti s'accolsero a quel loco, ch'era forte per lo pantan ch'avea da tutte parti.
Fer la citta` sovra quell'ossa morte; e per colei che 'l loco prima elesse, Mantua l'appellar sanz'altra sorte.
Gia` fuor le genti sue dentro piu` spesse, prima che la mattia da Casalodi da Pinamonte inganno ricevesse.
Pero` t'assenno che, se tu mai odi originar la mia terra altrimenti, la verita` nulla menzogna frodi”.
E io: “Maestro, i tuoi ragionamenti mi son si` certi e prendon si` mia fede, che li altri mi sarien carboni spenti.
Ma dimmi, de la gente che procede, se tu ne vedi alcun degno di nota; che' solo a cio` la mia mente rifiede”.
Allor mi disse: “Quel che da la gota porge la barba in su le spalle brune, fu - quando Grecia fu di maschi vota,
si` ch'a pena rimaser per le cune - augure, e diede 'l punto con Calcanta in Aulide a tagliar la prima fune.
Euripilo ebbe nome, e cosi` 'l canta l'alta mia tragedia in alcun loco: ben lo sai tu che la sai tutta quanta.
Quell'altro che ne' fianchi e` cosi` poco, Michele Scotto fu, che veramente de le magiche frode seppe 'l gioco.
Vedi Guido Bonatti; vedi Asdente, ch'avere inteso al cuoio e a lo spago ora vorrebbe, ma tardi si pente.
Vedi le triste che lasciaron l'ago, la spuola e 'l fuso, e fecersi 'ndivine; fecer malie con erbe e con imago.
Ma vienne omai, che' gia` tiene 'l confine d'amendue li emisperi e tocca l'onda sotto Sobilia Caino e le spine;
e gia` iernotte fu la luna tonda: ben ten de' ricordar, che' non ti nocque alcuna volta per la selva fonda”.
Si` mi parlava, e andavamo introcque.
Cosi` di ponte in ponte, altro parlando che la mia comedia cantar non cura, venimmo; e tenavamo il colmo, quando
restammo per veder l'altra fessura di Malebolge e li altri pianti vani; e vidila mirabilmente oscura.
Quale ne l'arzana` de' Viniziani bolle l'inverno la tenace pece a rimpalmare i legni lor non sani,
che' navicar non ponno - in quella vece chi fa suo legno novo e chi ristoppa le coste a quel che piu` viaggi fece;
chi ribatte da proda e chi da poppa; altri fa remi e altri volge sarte; chi terzeruolo e artimon rintoppa -;
tal, non per foco, ma per divin'arte, bollia la` giuso una pegola spessa, che 'nviscava la ripa d'ogne parte.
I' vedea lei, ma non vedea in essa mai che le bolle che 'l bollor levava, e gonfiar tutta, e riseder compressa.
Mentr'io la` giu` fisamente mirava, lo duca mio, dicendo “Guarda, guarda!”, mi trasse a se' del loco dov'io stava.
Allor mi volsi come l'uom cui tarda di veder quel che li convien fuggire e cui paura subita sgagliarda,
che, per veder, non indugia 'l partire: e vidi dietro a noi un diavol nero correndo su per lo scoglio venire.
Ahi quant'elli era ne l'aspetto fero! e quanto mi parea ne l'atto acerbo, con l'ali aperte e sovra i pie` leggero!
L'omero suo, ch'era aguto e superbo, carcava un peccator con ambo l'anche, e quei tenea de' pie` ghermito 'l nerbo.
Del nostro ponte disse: “O Malebranche, ecco un de li anzian di Santa Zita! Mettetel sotto, ch'i' torno per anche
a quella terra che n'e` ben fornita: ogn'uom v'e` barattier, fuor che Bonturo; del no, per li denar vi si fa ita”.
La` giu` 'l butto`, e per lo scoglio duro si volse; e mai non fu mastino sciolto con tanta fretta a seguitar lo furo.
Quel s'attuffo`, e torno` su` convolto; ma i demon che del ponte avean coperchio, gridar: “Qui non ha loco il Santo Volto:
qui si nuota altrimenti che nel Serchio! Pero`, se tu non vuo' di nostri graffi, non far sopra la pegola soverchio”.
Poi l'addentar con piu` di cento raffi, disser: “Coverto convien che qui balli, si` che, se puoi, nascosamente accaffi”.
Non altrimenti i cuoci a' lor vassalli fanno attuffare in mezzo la caldaia la carne con li uncin, perche' non galli.
Lo buon maestro “Accio` che non si paia che tu ci sia”, mi disse, “giu` t'acquatta dopo uno scheggio, ch'alcun schermo t'aia;
e per nulla offension che mi sia fatta, non temer tu, ch'i' ho le cose conte, perch'altra volta fui a tal baratta”.
Poscia passo` di la` dal co del ponte; e com'el giunse in su la ripa sesta, mestier li fu d'aver sicura fronte.
Con quel furore e con quella tempesta ch'escono i cani a dosso al poverello che di subito chiede ove s'arresta,
usciron quei di sotto al ponticello, e volser contra lui tutt'i runcigli; ma el grido`: “Nessun di voi sia fello!
Innanzi che l'uncin vostro mi pigli, traggasi avante l'un di voi che m'oda, e poi d'arruncigliarmi si consigli”.
Tutti gridaron: “Vada Malacoda!”; per ch'un si mosse - e li altri stetter fermi -, e venne a lui dicendo: “Che li approda?”.
“Credi tu, Malacoda, qui vedermi esser venuto”, disse 'l mio maestro, “sicuro gia` da tutti vostri schermi,
sanza voler divino e fato destro? Lascian'andar, che' nel cielo e` voluto ch'i' mostri altrui questo cammin silvestro”.
Allor li fu l'orgoglio si` caduto, ch'e' si lascio` cascar l'uncino a' piedi, e disse a li altri: “Omai non sia feruto”.
E 'l duca mio a me: “O tu che siedi tra li scheggion del ponte quatto quatto, sicuramente omai a me ti riedi”.
Per ch'io mi mossi, e a lui venni ratto; e i diavoli si fecer tutti avanti, si` ch'io temetti ch'ei tenesser patto;
cosi` vid'io gia` temer li fanti ch'uscivan patteggiati di Caprona, veggendo se' tra nemici cotanti.
I' m'accostai con tutta la persona lungo 'l mio duca, e non torceva li occhi da la sembianza lor ch'era non buona.
Ei chinavan li raffi e “Vuo' che 'l tocchi”, diceva l'un con l'altro, “in sul groppone?”. E rispondien: “Si`, fa che gliel'accocchi!”.
Ma quel demonio che tenea sermone col duca mio, si volse tutto presto, e disse: “Posa, posa, Scarmiglione!”.
Poi disse a noi: “Piu` oltre andar per questo iscoglio non si puo`, pero` che giace tutto spezzato al fondo l'arco sesto.
E se l'andare avante pur vi piace, andatevene su per questa grotta; presso e` un altro scoglio che via face.
Ier, piu` oltre cinqu'ore che quest'otta, mille dugento con sessanta sei anni compie' che qui la via fu rotta.
Io mando verso la` di questi miei a riguardar s'alcun se ne sciorina; gite con lor, che non saranno rei”.
“Tra'ti avante, Alichino, e Calcabrina”, comincio` elli a dire, “e tu, Cagnazzo; e Barbariccia guidi la decina.
Libicocco vegn'oltre e Draghignazzo, Ciriatto sannuto e Graffiacane e Farfarello e Rubicante pazzo.
Cercate 'ntorno le boglienti pane; costor sian salvi infino a l'altro scheggio che tutto intero va sovra le tane”.
“Ome`, maestro, che e` quel ch'i' veggio?”, diss'io, “deh, sanza scorta andianci soli, se tu sa' ir; ch'i' per me non la cheggio.
Se tu se' si` accorto come suoli, non vedi tu ch'e' digrignan li denti, e con le ciglia ne minaccian duoli?”.
Ed elli a me: “Non vo' che tu paventi; lasciali digrignar pur a lor senno, ch'e' fanno cio` per li lessi dolenti”.
Per l'argine sinistro volta dienno; ma prima avea ciascun la lingua stretta coi denti, verso lor duca, per cenno;
ed elli avea del cul fatto trombetta.
Io vidi gia` cavalier muover campo, e cominciare stormo e far lor mostra, e talvolta partir per loro scampo;
corridor vidi per la terra vostra, o Aretini, e vidi gir gualdane, fedir torneamenti e correr giostra;
quando con trombe, e quando con campane, con tamburi e con cenni di castella, e con cose nostrali e con istrane;
ne' gia` con si` diversa cennamella cavalier vidi muover ne' pedoni, ne' nave a segno di terra o di stella.
Noi andavam con li diece demoni. Ahi fiera compagnia! ma ne la chiesa coi santi, e in taverna coi ghiottoni.
Pur a la pegola era la mia 'ntesa, per veder de la bolgia ogne contegno e de la gente ch'entro v'era incesa.
Come i dalfini, quando fanno segno a' marinar con l'arco de la schiena, che s'argomentin di campar lor legno,
talor cosi`, ad alleggiar la pena, mostrav'alcun de' peccatori il dosso e nascondea in men che non balena.
E come a l'orlo de l'acqua d'un fosso stanno i ranocchi pur col muso fuori, si` che celano i piedi e l'altro grosso,
si` stavan d'ogne parte i peccatori; ma come s'appressava Barbariccia, cosi` si ritraen sotto i bollori.
I' vidi, e anco il cor me n'accapriccia, uno aspettar cosi`, com'elli 'ncontra ch'una rana rimane e l'altra spiccia;
e Graffiacan, che li era piu` di contra, li arrunciglio` le 'mpegolate chiome e trassel su`, che mi parve una lontra.
I' sapea gia` di tutti quanti 'l nome, si` li notai quando fuorono eletti, e poi ch'e' si chiamaro, attesi come.
“O Rubicante, fa che tu li metti li unghioni a dosso, si` che tu lo scuoi!”, gridavan tutti insieme i maladetti.
E io: “Maestro mio, fa, se tu puoi, che tu sappi chi e` lo sciagurato venuto a man de li avversari suoi”.
Lo duca mio li s'accosto` allato; domandollo ond'ei fosse, e quei rispuose: “I' fui del regno di Navarra nato.
Mia madre a servo d'un segnor mi puose, che m'avea generato d'un ribaldo, distruggitor di se' e di sue cose.
Poi fui famiglia del buon re Tebaldo: quivi mi misi a far baratteria; di ch'io rendo ragione in questo caldo”.
E Ciriatto, a cui di bocca uscia d'ogne parte una sanna come a porco, li fe' sentir come l'una sdruscia.
Tra male gatte era venuto 'l sorco; ma Barbariccia il chiuse con le braccia, e disse: “State in la`, mentr'io lo 'nforco”.
E al maestro mio volse la faccia: “Domanda”, disse, “ancor, se piu` disii saper da lui, prima ch'altri 'l disfaccia”.
Lo duca dunque: “Or di`: de li altri rii conosci tu alcun che sia latino sotto la pece?”. E quelli: “I' mi partii,
poco e`, da un che fu di la` vicino. Cosi` foss'io ancor con lui coperto, ch'i' non temerei unghia ne' uncino!”.
E Libicocco “Troppo avem sofferto”, disse; e preseli 'l braccio col runciglio, si` che, stracciando, ne porto` un lacerto.
Draghignazzo anco i volle dar di piglio giuso a le gambe; onde 'l decurio loro si volse intorno intorno con mal piglio.
Quand'elli un poco rappaciati fuoro, a lui, ch'ancor mirava sua ferita, domando` 'l duca mio sanza dimoro:
“Chi fu colui da cui mala partita di' che facesti per venire a proda?”. Ed ei rispuose: “Fu frate Gomita,
quel di Gallura, vasel d'ogne froda, ch'ebbe i nemici di suo donno in mano, e fe' si` lor, che ciascun se ne loda.
Danar si tolse, e lasciolli di piano, si` com'e' dice; e ne li altri offici anche barattier fu non picciol, ma sovrano.
Usa con esso donno Michel Zanche di Logodoro; e a dir di Sardigna le lingue lor non si sentono stanche.
Ome`, vedete l'altro che digrigna: i' direi anche, ma i' temo ch'ello non s'apparecchi a grattarmi la tigna”.
E 'l gran proposto, volto a Farfarello che stralunava li occhi per fedire, disse: “Fatti 'n costa`, malvagio uccello!”.
“Se voi volete vedere o udire”, ricomincio` lo spaurato appresso “Toschi o Lombardi, io ne faro` venire;
ma stieno i Malebranche un poco in cesso, si` ch'ei non teman de le lor vendette; e io, seggendo in questo loco stesso,
per un ch'io son, ne faro` venir sette quand'io suffolero`, com'e` nostro uso di fare allor che fori alcun si mette”.
Cagnazzo a cotal motto levo` 'l muso, crollando 'l capo, e disse: “Odi malizia ch'elli ha pensata per gittarsi giuso!”.
Ond'ei, ch'avea lacciuoli a gran divizia, rispuose: “Malizioso son io troppo, quand'io procuro a' mia maggior trestizia”.
Alichin non si tenne e, di rintoppo a li altri, disse a lui: “Se tu ti cali, io non ti verro` dietro di gualoppo,
ma battero` sovra la pece l'ali. Lascisi 'l collo, e sia la ripa scudo, a veder se tu sol piu` di noi vali”.
O tu che leggi, udirai nuovo ludo: ciascun da l'altra costa li occhi volse; quel prima, ch'a cio` fare era piu` crudo.
Lo Navarrese ben suo tempo colse; fermo` le piante a terra, e in un punto salto` e dal proposto lor si sciolse.
Di che ciascun di colpa fu compunto, ma quei piu` che cagion fu del difetto; pero` si mosse e grido`: “Tu se' giunto!”.
Ma poco i valse: che' l'ali al sospetto non potero avanzar: quelli ando` sotto, e quei drizzo` volando suso il petto:
non altrimenti l'anitra di botto, quando 'l falcon s'appressa, giu` s'attuffa, ed ei ritorna su` crucciato e rotto.
Irato Calcabrina de la buffa, volando dietro li tenne, invaghito che quei campasse per aver la zuffa;
e come 'l barattier fu disparito, cosi` volse li artigli al suo compagno, e fu con lui sopra 'l fosso ghermito.
Ma l'altro fu bene sparvier grifagno ad artigliar ben lui, e amendue cadder nel mezzo del bogliente stagno.
Lo caldo sghermitor subito fue; ma pero` di levarsi era neente, si` avieno inviscate l'ali sue.
Barbariccia, con li altri suoi dolente, quattro ne fe' volar da l'altra costa con tutt'i raffi, e assai prestamente
di qua, di la` discesero a la posta; porser li uncini verso li 'mpaniati, ch'eran gia` cotti dentro da la crosta;
e noi lasciammo lor cosi` 'mpacciati.
Taciti, soli, sanza compagnia n'andavam l'un dinanzi e l'altro dopo, come frati minor vanno per via.
Volt'era in su la favola d'Isopo lo mio pensier per la presente rissa, dov'el parlo` de la rana e del topo;
che' piu` non si pareggia 'mo' e 'issa' che l'un con l'altro fa, se ben s'accoppia principio e fine con la mente fissa.
E come l'un pensier de l'altro scoppia, cosi` nacque di quello un altro poi, che la prima paura mi fe' doppia.
Io pensava cosi`: 'Questi per noi sono scherniti con danno e con beffa si` fatta, ch'assai credo che lor noi.
Se l'ira sovra 'l mal voler s'aggueffa, ei ne verranno dietro piu` crudeli che 'l cane a quella lievre ch'elli acceffa'.
Gia` mi sentia tutti arricciar li peli de la paura e stava in dietro intento, quand'io dissi: “Maestro, se non celi
te e me tostamente, i' ho pavento d'i Malebranche. Noi li avem gia` dietro; io li 'magino si`, che gia` li sento”.
E quei: “S'i' fossi di piombato vetro, l'imagine di fuor tua non trarrei piu` tosto a me, che quella dentro 'mpetro.
Pur mo venieno i tuo' pensier tra ' miei, con simile atto e con simile faccia, si` che d'intrambi un sol consiglio fei.
S'elli e` che si` la destra costa giaccia, che noi possiam ne l'altra bolgia scendere, noi fuggirem l'imaginata caccia”.
Gia` non compie' di tal consiglio rendere, ch'io li vidi venir con l'ali tese non molto lungi, per volerne prendere.
Lo duca mio di subito mi prese, come la madre ch'al romore e` desta e vede presso a se' le fiamme accese,
che prende il figlio e fugge e non s'arresta, avendo piu` di lui che di se' cura, tanto che solo una camiscia vesta;
e giu` dal collo de la ripa dura supin si diede a la pendente roccia, che l'un de' lati a l'altra bolgia tura.
Non corse mai si` tosto acqua per doccia a volger ruota di molin terragno, quand'ella piu` verso le pale approccia,
come 'l maestro mio per quel vivagno, portandosene me sovra 'l suo petto, come suo figlio, non come compagno.
A pena fuoro i pie` suoi giunti al letto del fondo giu`, ch'e' furon in sul colle sovresso noi; ma non li` era sospetto;
che' l'alta provedenza che lor volle porre ministri de la fossa quinta, poder di partirs'indi a tutti tolle.
La` giu` trovammo una gente dipinta che giva intorno assai con lenti passi, piangendo e nel sembiante stanca e vinta.
Elli avean cappe con cappucci bassi dinanzi a li occhi, fatte de la taglia che in Clugni` per li monaci fassi.
Di fuor dorate son, si` ch'elli abbaglia; ma dentro tutte piombo, e gravi tanto, che Federigo le mettea di paglia.
Oh in etterno faticoso manto! Noi ci volgemmo ancor pur a man manca con loro insieme, intenti al tristo pianto;
ma per lo peso quella gente stanca venia si` pian, che noi eravam nuovi di compagnia ad ogne mover d'anca.
Per ch'io al duca mio: “Fa che tu trovi alcun ch'al fatto o al nome si conosca, e li occhi, si` andando, intorno movi”.
E un che 'ntese la parola tosca, di retro a noi grido`: “Tenete i piedi, voi che correte si` per l'aura fosca!
Forse ch'avrai da me quel che tu chiedi”. Onde 'l duca si volse e disse: “Aspetta e poi secondo il suo passo procedi”.
Ristetti, e vidi due mostrar gran fretta de l'animo, col viso, d'esser meco; ma tardavali 'l carco e la via stretta.
Quando fuor giunti, assai con l'occhio bieco mi rimiraron sanza far parola; poi si volsero in se', e dicean seco:
“Costui par vivo a l'atto de la gola; e s'e' son morti, per qual privilegio vanno scoperti de la grave stola?”.
Poi disser me: “O Tosco, ch'al collegio de l'ipocriti tristi se' venuto, dir chi tu se' non avere in dispregio”.
E io a loro: “I' fui nato e cresciuto sovra 'l bel fiume d'Arno a la gran villa, e son col corpo ch'i' ho sempre avuto.
Ma voi chi siete, a cui tanto distilla quant'i' veggio dolor giu` per le guance? e che pena e` in voi che si` sfavilla?”.
E l'un rispuose a me: “Le cappe rance son di piombo si` grosse, che li pesi fan cosi` cigolar le lor bilance.
Frati godenti fummo, e bolognesi; io Catalano e questi Loderingo nomati, e da tua terra insieme presi,
come suole esser tolto un uom solingo, per conservar sua pace; e fummo tali, ch'ancor si pare intorno dal Gardingo”.
Io cominciai: “O frati, i vostri mali...”; ma piu` non dissi, ch'a l'occhio mi corse un, crucifisso in terra con tre pali.
Quando mi vide, tutto si distorse, soffiando ne la barba con sospiri; e 'l frate Catalan, ch'a cio` s'accorse,
mi disse: “Quel confitto che tu miri, consiglio` i Farisei che convenia porre un uom per lo popolo a' martiri.
Attraversato e`, nudo, ne la via, come tu vedi, ed e` mestier ch'el senta qualunque passa, come pesa, pria.
E a tal modo il socero si stenta in questa fossa, e li altri dal concilio che fu per li Giudei mala sementa”.
Allor vid'io maravigliar Virgilio sovra colui ch'era disteso in croce tanto vilmente ne l'etterno essilio.
Poscia drizzo` al frate cotal voce: “Non vi dispiaccia, se vi lece, dirci s'a la man destra giace alcuna foce
onde noi amendue possiamo uscirci, sanza costrigner de li angeli neri che vegnan d'esto fondo a dipartirci”.
Rispuose adunque: “Piu` che tu non speri s'appressa un sasso che de la gran cerchia si move e varca tutt'i vallon feri,
salvo che 'n questo e` rotto e nol coperchia: montar potrete su per la ruina, che giace in costa e nel fondo soperchia”.
Lo duca stette un poco a testa china; poi disse: “Mal contava la bisogna colui che i peccator di qua uncina”.
E 'l frate: “Io udi' gia` dire a Bologna del diavol vizi assai, tra ' quali udi' ch'elli e` bugiardo, e padre di menzogna”.
Appresso il duca a gran passi sen gi`, turbato un poco d'ira nel sembiante; ond'io da li 'ncarcati mi parti'
dietro a le poste de le care piante.
In quella parte del giovanetto anno che 'l sole i crin sotto l'Aquario tempra e gia` le notti al mezzo di` sen vanno,
quando la brina in su la terra assempra l'imagine di sua sorella bianca, ma poco dura a la sua penna tempra,
lo villanello a cui la roba manca, si leva, e guarda, e vede la campagna biancheggiar tutta; ond'ei si batte l'anca,
ritorna in casa, e qua e la` si lagna, come 'l tapin che non sa che si faccia; poi riede, e la speranza ringavagna,
veggendo 'l mondo aver cangiata faccia in poco d'ora, e prende suo vincastro, e fuor le pecorelle a pascer caccia.
Cosi` mi fece sbigottir lo mastro quand'io li vidi si` turbar la fronte, e cosi` tosto al mal giunse lo 'mpiastro;
che', come noi venimmo al guasto ponte, lo duca a me si volse con quel piglio dolce ch'io vidi prima a pie` del monte.
Le braccia aperse, dopo alcun consiglio eletto seco riguardando prima ben la ruina, e diedemi di piglio.
E come quei ch'adopera ed estima, che sempre par che 'nnanzi si proveggia, cosi`, levando me su` ver la cima
d'un ronchione, avvisava un'altra scheggia dicendo: “Sovra quella poi t'aggrappa; ma tenta pria s'e` tal ch'ella ti reggia”.
Non era via da vestito di cappa, che' noi a pena, ei lieve e io sospinto, potavam su` montar di chiappa in chiappa.
E se non fosse che da quel precinto piu` che da l'altro era la costa corta, non so di lui, ma io sarei ben vinto.
Ma perche' Malebolge inver' la porta del bassissimo pozzo tutta pende, lo sito di ciascuna valle porta
che l'una costa surge e l'altra scende; noi pur venimmo al fine in su la punta onde l'ultima pietra si scoscende.
La lena m'era del polmon si` munta quand'io fui su`, ch'i' non potea piu` oltre, anzi m'assisi ne la prima giunta.
“Omai convien che tu cosi` ti spoltre”, disse 'l maestro; “che', seggendo in piuma, in fama non si vien, ne' sotto coltre;
sanza la qual chi sua vita consuma, cotal vestigio in terra di se' lascia, qual fummo in aere e in acqua la schiuma.
E pero` leva su`: vinci l'ambascia con l'animo che vince ogne battaglia, se col suo grave corpo non s'accascia.
Piu` lunga scala convien che si saglia; non basta da costoro esser partito. Se tu mi 'ntendi, or fa si` che ti vaglia”.
Leva'mi allor, mostrandomi fornito meglio di lena ch'i' non mi sentia; e dissi: “Va, ch'i' son forte e ardito”.
Su per lo scoglio prendemmo la via, ch'era ronchioso, stretto e malagevole, ed erto piu` assai che quel di pria.
Parlando andava per non parer fievole; onde una voce usci` de l'altro fosso, a parole formar disconvenevole.
Non so che disse, ancor che sovra 'l dosso fossi de l'arco gia` che varca quivi; ma chi parlava ad ire parea mosso.
Io era volto in giu`, ma li occhi vivi non poteano ire al fondo per lo scuro; per ch'io: “Maestro, fa che tu arrivi
da l'altro cinghio e dismontiam lo muro; che', com'i' odo quinci e non intendo, cosi` giu` veggio e neente affiguro”.
“Altra risposta”, disse, “non ti rendo se non lo far; che' la dimanda onesta si de' seguir con l'opera tacendo”.
Noi discendemmo il ponte da la testa dove s'aggiugne con l'ottava ripa, e poi mi fu la bolgia manifesta:
e vidivi entro terribile stipa di serpenti, e di si` diversa mena che la memoria il sangue ancor mi scipa.
Piu` non si vanti Libia con sua rena; che' se chelidri, iaculi e faree produce, e cencri con anfisibena,
ne' tante pestilenzie ne' si` ree mostro` gia` mai con tutta l'Etiopia ne' con cio` che di sopra al Mar Rosso ee.
Tra questa cruda e tristissima copia correan genti nude e spaventate, sanza sperar pertugio o elitropia:
con serpi le man dietro avean legate; quelle ficcavan per le ren la coda e 'l capo, ed eran dinanzi aggroppate.
Ed ecco a un ch'era da nostra proda, s'avvento` un serpente che 'l trafisse la` dove 'l collo a le spalle s'annoda.
Ne' O si` tosto mai ne' I si scrisse, com'el s'accese e arse, e cener tutto convenne che cascando divenisse;
e poi che fu a terra si` distrutto, la polver si raccolse per se' stessa, e 'n quel medesmo ritorno` di butto.
Cosi` per li gran savi si confessa che la fenice more e poi rinasce, quando al cinquecentesimo anno appressa;
erba ne' biado in sua vita non pasce, ma sol d'incenso lagrime e d'amomo, e nardo e mirra son l'ultime fasce.
E qual e` quel che cade, e non sa como, per forza di demon ch'a terra il tira, o d'altra oppilazion che lega l'omo,
quando si leva, che 'ntorno si mira tutto smarrito de la grande angoscia ch'elli ha sofferta, e guardando sospira:
tal era il peccator levato poscia. Oh potenza di Dio, quant'e` severa, che cotai colpi per vendetta croscia!
Lo duca il domando` poi chi ello era; per ch'ei rispuose: “Io piovvi di Toscana, poco tempo e`, in questa gola fiera.
Vita bestial mi piacque e non umana, si` come a mul ch'i' fui; son Vanni Fucci bestia, e Pistoia mi fu degna tana”.
E io al duca: “Dilli che non mucci, e domanda che colpa qua giu` 'l pinse; ch'io 'l vidi uomo di sangue e di crucci”.
E 'l peccator, che 'ntese, non s'infinse, ma drizzo` verso me l'animo e 'l volto, e di trista vergogna si dipinse;
poi disse: “Piu` mi duol che tu m'hai colto ne la miseria dove tu mi vedi, che quando fui de l'altra vita tolto.
Io non posso negar quel che tu chiedi; in giu` son messo tanto perch'io fui ladro a la sagrestia d'i belli arredi,
e falsamente gia` fu apposto altrui. Ma perche' di tal vista tu non godi, se mai sarai di fuor da' luoghi bui,
apri li orecchi al mio annunzio, e odi: Pistoia in pria d'i Neri si dimagra; poi Fiorenza rinova gente e modi.
Tragge Marte vapor di Val di Magra ch'e` di torbidi nuvoli involuto; e con tempesta impetuosa e agra
sovra Campo Picen fia combattuto; ond'ei repente spezzera` la nebbia, si` ch'ogne Bianco ne sara` feruto.
E detto l'ho perche' doler ti debbia!”.
Al fine de le sue parole il ladro le mani alzo` con amendue le fiche, gridando: “Togli, Dio, ch'a te le squadro!”.
Da indi in qua mi fuor le serpi amiche, perch'una li s'avvolse allora al collo, come dicesse 'Non vo' che piu` diche';
e un'altra a le braccia, e rilegollo, ribadendo se' stessa si` dinanzi, che non potea con esse dare un crollo.
Ahi Pistoia, Pistoia, che' non stanzi d'incenerarti si` che piu` non duri, poi che 'n mal fare il seme tuo avanzi?
Per tutt'i cerchi de lo 'nferno scuri non vidi spirto in Dio tanto superbo, non quel che cadde a Tebe giu` da' muri.
El si fuggi` che non parlo` piu` verbo; e io vidi un centauro pien di rabbia venir chiamando: “Ov'e`, ov'e` l'acerbo?”.
Maremma non cred'io che tante n'abbia, quante bisce elli avea su per la groppa infin ove comincia nostra labbia.
Sovra le spalle, dietro da la coppa, con l'ali aperte li giacea un draco; e quello affuoca qualunque s'intoppa.
Lo mio maestro disse: “Questi e` Caco, che sotto 'l sasso di monte Aventino di sangue fece spesse volte laco.
Non va co' suoi fratei per un cammino, per lo furto che frodolente fece del grande armento ch'elli ebbe a vicino;
onde cessar le sue opere biece sotto la mazza d'Ercule, che forse gliene die` cento, e non senti` le diece”.
Mentre che si` parlava, ed el trascorse e tre spiriti venner sotto noi, de' quali ne' io ne' 'l duca mio s'accorse,
se non quando gridar: “Chi siete voi?”; per che nostra novella si ristette, e intendemmo pur ad essi poi.
Io non li conoscea; ma ei seguette, come suol seguitar per alcun caso, che l'un nomar un altro convenette,
dicendo: “Cianfa dove fia rimaso?”; per ch'io, accio` che 'l duca stesse attento, mi puosi 'l dito su dal mento al naso.
Se tu se' or, lettore, a creder lento cio` ch'io diro`, non sara` maraviglia, che' io che 'l vidi, a pena il mi consento.
Com'io tenea levate in lor le ciglia, e un serpente con sei pie` si lancia dinanzi a l'uno, e tutto a lui s'appiglia.
Co' pie` di mezzo li avvinse la pancia, e con li anterior le braccia prese; poi li addento` e l'una e l'altra guancia;
li diretani a le cosce distese, e miseli la coda tra 'mbedue, e dietro per le ren su` la ritese.
Ellera abbarbicata mai non fue ad alber si`, come l'orribil fiera per l'altrui membra avviticchio` le sue.
Poi s'appiccar, come di calda cera fossero stati, e mischiar lor colore, ne' l'un ne' l'altro gia` parea quel ch'era:
come procede innanzi da l'ardore, per lo papiro suso, un color bruno che non e` nero ancora e 'l bianco more.
Li altri due 'l riguardavano, e ciascuno gridava: “Ome`, Agnel, come ti muti! Vedi che gia` non se' ne' due ne' uno”.
Gia` eran li due capi un divenuti, quando n'apparver due figure miste in una faccia, ov'eran due perduti.
Fersi le braccia due di quattro liste; le cosce con le gambe e 'l ventre e 'l casso divenner membra che non fuor mai viste.
Ogne primaio aspetto ivi era casso: due e nessun l'imagine perversa parea; e tal sen gio con lento passo.
Come 'l ramarro sotto la gran fersa dei di` canicular, cangiando sepe, folgore par se la via attraversa,
si` pareva, venendo verso l'epe de li altri due, un serpentello acceso, livido e nero come gran di pepe;
e quella parte onde prima e` preso nostro alimento, a l'un di lor trafisse; poi cadde giuso innanzi lui disteso.
Lo trafitto 'l miro`, ma nulla disse; anzi, co' pie` fermati, sbadigliava pur come sonno o febbre l'assalisse.
Elli 'l serpente, e quei lui riguardava; l'un per la piaga, e l'altro per la bocca fummavan forte, e 'l fummo si scontrava.
Taccia Lucano ormai la` dove tocca del misero Sabello e di Nasidio, e attenda a udir quel ch'or si scocca.
Taccia di Cadmo e d'Aretusa Ovidio; che' se quello in serpente e quella in fonte converte poetando, io non lo 'nvidio;
che' due nature mai a fronte a fronte non trasmuto` si` ch'amendue le forme a cambiar lor matera fosser pronte.
Insieme si rispuosero a tai norme, che 'l serpente la coda in forca fesse, e il feruto ristrinse insieme l'orme.
Le gambe con le cosce seco stesse s'appiccar si`, che 'n poco la giuntura non facea segno alcun che si paresse.
Togliea la coda fessa la figura che si perdeva la`, e la sua pelle si facea molle, e quella di la` dura.
Io vidi intrar le braccia per l'ascelle, e i due pie` de la fiera, ch'eran corti, tanto allungar quanto accorciavan quelle.
Poscia li pie` di retro, insieme attorti, diventaron lo membro che l'uom cela, e 'l misero del suo n'avea due porti.
Mentre che 'l fummo l'uno e l'altro vela di color novo, e genera 'l pel suso per l'una parte e da l'altra il dipela,
l'un si levo` e l'altro cadde giuso, non torcendo pero` le lucerne empie, sotto le quai ciascun cambiava muso.
Quel ch'era dritto, il trasse ver' le tempie, e di troppa matera ch'in la` venne uscir li orecchi de le gote scempie;
cio` che non corse in dietro e si ritenne di quel soverchio, fe' naso a la faccia e le labbra ingrosso` quanto convenne.
Quel che giacea, il muso innanzi caccia, e li orecchi ritira per la testa come face le corna la lumaccia;
e la lingua, ch'avea unita e presta prima a parlar, si fende, e la forcuta ne l'altro si richiude; e 'l fummo resta.
L'anima ch'era fiera divenuta, suffolando si fugge per la valle, e l'altro dietro a lui parlando sputa.
Poscia li volse le novelle spalle, e disse a l'altro: “I' vo' che Buoso corra, com'ho fatt'io, carpon per questo calle”.
Cosi` vid'io la settima zavorra mutare e trasmutare; e qui mi scusi la novita` se fior la penna abborra.
E avvegna che li occhi miei confusi fossero alquanto e l'animo smagato, non poter quei fuggirsi tanto chiusi,
ch'i' non scorgessi ben Puccio Sciancato; ed era quel che sol, di tre compagni che venner prima, non era mutato;
l'altr'era quel che tu, Gaville, piagni.
Godi, Fiorenza, poi che se' si` grande, che per mare e per terra batti l'ali, e per lo 'nferno tuo nome si spande!
Tra li ladron trovai cinque cotali tuoi cittadini onde mi ven vergogna, e tu in grande orranza non ne sali.
Ma se presso al mattin del ver si sogna, tu sentirai di qua da picciol tempo di quel che Prato, non ch'altri, t'agogna.
E se gia` fosse, non saria per tempo. Cosi` foss'ei, da che pur esser dee! che' piu` mi gravera`, com'piu` m'attempo.
Noi ci partimmo, e su per le scalee che n'avea fatto iborni a scender pria, rimonto` 'l duca mio e trasse mee;
e proseguendo la solinga via, tra le schegge e tra ' rocchi de lo scoglio lo pie` sanza la man non si spedia.
Allor mi dolsi, e ora mi ridoglio quando drizzo la mente a cio` ch'io vidi, e piu` lo 'ngegno affreno ch'i' non soglio,
perche' non corra che virtu` nol guidi; si` che, se stella bona o miglior cosa m'ha dato 'l ben, ch'io stessi nol m'invidi.
Quante 'l villan ch'al poggio si riposa, nel tempo che colui che 'l mondo schiara la faccia sua a noi tien meno ascosa,
come la mosca cede alla zanzara, vede lucciole giu` per la vallea, forse cola` dov'e' vendemmia e ara:
di tante fiamme tutta risplendea l'ottava bolgia, si` com'io m'accorsi tosto che fui la` 've 'l fondo parea.
E qual colui che si vengio` con li orsi vide 'l carro d'Elia al dipartire, quando i cavalli al cielo erti levorsi,
che nol potea si` con li occhi seguire, ch'el vedesse altro che la fiamma sola, si` come nuvoletta, in su` salire:
tal si move ciascuna per la gola del fosso, che' nessuna mostra 'l furto, e ogne fiamma un peccatore invola.
Io stava sovra 'l ponte a veder surto, si` che s'io non avessi un ronchion preso, caduto sarei giu` sanz'esser urto.
E 'l duca che mi vide tanto atteso, disse: “Dentro dai fuochi son li spirti; catun si fascia di quel ch'elli e` inceso”.
“Maestro mio”, rispuos'io, “per udirti son io piu` certo; ma gia` m'era avviso che cosi` fosse, e gia` voleva dirti:
chi e` 'n quel foco che vien si` diviso di sopra, che par surger de la pira dov'Eteocle col fratel fu miso?”.
Rispuose a me: “La` dentro si martira Ulisse e Diomede, e cosi` insieme a la vendetta vanno come a l'ira;
e dentro da la lor fiamma si geme l'agguato del caval che fe' la porta onde usci` de' Romani il gentil seme.
Piangevisi entro l'arte per che, morta, Deidamia ancor si duol d'Achille, e del Palladio pena vi si porta”.
“S'ei posson dentro da quelle faville parlar”, diss'io, “maestro, assai ten priego e ripriego, che 'l priego vaglia mille,
che non mi facci de l'attender niego fin che la fiamma cornuta qua vegna; vedi che del disio ver' lei mi piego!”.
Ed elli a me: “La tua preghiera e` degna di molta loda, e io pero` l'accetto; ma fa che la tua lingua si sostegna.
Lascia parlare a me, ch'i' ho concetto cio` che tu vuoi; ch'ei sarebbero schivi, perch'e' fuor greci, forse del tuo detto”.
Poi che la fiamma fu venuta quivi dove parve al mio duca tempo e loco, in questa forma lui parlare audivi:
“O voi che siete due dentro ad un foco, s'io meritai di voi mentre ch'io vissi, s'io meritai di voi assai o poco
quando nel mondo li alti versi scrissi, non vi movete; ma l'un di voi dica dove, per lui, perduto a morir gissi”.
Lo maggior corno de la fiamma antica comincio` a crollarsi mormorando pur come quella cui vento affatica;
indi la cima qua e la` menando, come fosse la lingua che parlasse, gitto` voce di fuori, e disse: “Quando
mi diparti' da Circe, che sottrasse me piu` d'un anno la` presso a Gaeta, prima che si` Enea la nomasse,
ne' dolcezza di figlio, ne' la pieta del vecchio padre, ne' 'l debito amore lo qual dovea Penelope' far lieta,
vincer potero dentro a me l'ardore ch'i' ebbi a divenir del mondo esperto, e de li vizi umani e del valore;
ma misi me per l'alto mare aperto sol con un legno e con quella compagna picciola da la qual non fui diserto.
L'un lito e l'altro vidi infin la Spagna, fin nel Morrocco, e l'isola d'i Sardi, e l'altre che quel mare intorno bagna.
Io e ' compagni eravam vecchi e tardi quando venimmo a quella foce stretta dov'Ercule segno` li suoi riguardi,
accio` che l'uom piu` oltre non si metta: da la man destra mi lasciai Sibilia, da l'altra gia` m'avea lasciata Setta.
"O frati", dissi "che per cento milia perigli siete giunti a l'occidente, a questa tanto picciola vigilia
d'i nostri sensi ch'e` del rimanente, non vogliate negar l'esperienza, di retro al sol, del mondo sanza gente.
Considerate la vostra semenza: fatti non foste a viver come bruti, ma per seguir virtute e canoscenza".
Li miei compagni fec'io si` aguti, con questa orazion picciola, al cammino, che a pena poscia li avrei ritenuti;
e volta nostra poppa nel mattino, de' remi facemmo ali al folle volo, sempre acquistando dal lato mancino.
Tutte le stelle gia` de l'altro polo vedea la notte e 'l nostro tanto basso, che non surgea fuor del marin suolo.
Cinque volte racceso e tante casso lo lume era di sotto da la luna, poi che 'ntrati eravam ne l'alto passo,
quando n'apparve una montagna, bruna per la distanza, e parvemi alta tanto quanto veduta non avea alcuna.
Noi ci allegrammo, e tosto torno` in pianto, che' de la nova terra un turbo nacque, e percosse del legno il primo canto.
Tre volte il fe' girar con tutte l'acque; a la quarta levar la poppa in suso e la prora ire in giu`, com'altrui piacque,
infin che 'l mar fu sovra noi richiuso”.
Gia` era dritta in su` la fiamma e queta per non dir piu`, e gia` da noi sen gia con la licenza del dolce poeta,
quand'un'altra, che dietro a lei venia, ne fece volger li occhi a la sua cima per un confuso suon che fuor n'uscia.
Come 'l bue cicilian che mugghio` prima col pianto di colui, e cio` fu dritto, che l'avea temperato con sua lima,
mugghiava con la voce de l'afflitto, si` che, con tutto che fosse di rame, pur el pareva dal dolor trafitto;
cosi`, per non aver via ne' forame dal principio nel foco, in suo linguaggio si convertian le parole grame.
Ma poscia ch'ebber colto lor viaggio su per la punta, dandole quel guizzo che dato avea la lingua in lor passaggio,
udimmo dire: “O tu a cu' io drizzo la voce e che parlavi mo lombardo, dicendo "Istra ten va, piu` non t'adizzo",
perch'io sia giunto forse alquanto tardo, non t'incresca restare a parlar meco; vedi che non incresce a me, e ardo!
Se tu pur mo in questo mondo cieco caduto se' di quella dolce terra latina ond'io mia colpa tutta reco,
dimmi se Romagnuoli han pace o guerra; ch'io fui d'i monti la` intra Orbino e 'l giogo di che Tever si diserra”.
Io era in giuso ancora attento e chino, quando il mio duca mi tento` di costa, dicendo: “Parla tu; questi e` latino”.
E io, ch'avea gia` pronta la risposta, sanza indugio a parlare incominciai: “O anima che se' la` giu` nascosta,
Romagna tua non e`, e non fu mai, sanza guerra ne' cuor de' suoi tiranni; ma 'n palese nessuna or vi lasciai.
Ravenna sta come stata e` molt'anni: l'aguglia da Polenta la si cova, si` che Cervia ricuopre co' suoi vanni.
La terra che fe' gia` la lunga prova e di Franceschi sanguinoso mucchio, sotto le branche verdi si ritrova.
E 'l mastin vecchio e 'l nuovo da Verrucchio, che fecer di Montagna il mal governo, la` dove soglion fan d'i denti succhio.
Le citta` di Lamone e di Santerno conduce il lioncel dal nido bianco, che muta parte da la state al verno.
E quella cu' il Savio bagna il fianco, cosi` com'ella sie' tra 'l piano e 'l monte tra tirannia si vive e stato franco.
Ora chi se', ti priego che ne conte; non esser duro piu` ch'altri sia stato, se 'l nome tuo nel mondo tegna fronte”.
Poscia che 'l foco alquanto ebbe rugghiato al modo suo, l'aguta punta mosse di qua, di la`, e poi die` cotal fiato:
“S'i' credesse che mia risposta fosse a persona che mai tornasse al mondo, questa fiamma staria sanza piu` scosse;
ma pero` che gia` mai di questo fondo non torno` vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero, sanza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.
Io fui uom d'arme, e poi fui cordigliero, credendomi, si` cinto, fare ammenda; e certo il creder mio venia intero,
se non fosse il gran prete, a cui mal prenda!, che mi rimise ne le prime colpe; e come e quare, voglio che m'intenda.
Mentre ch'io forma fui d'ossa e di polpe che la madre mi die`, l'opere mie non furon leonine, ma di volpe.
Li accorgimenti e le coperte vie io seppi tutte, e si` menai lor arte, ch'al fine de la terra il suono uscie.
Quando mi vidi giunto in quella parte di mia etade ove ciascun dovrebbe calar le vele e raccoglier le sarte,
cio` che pria mi piacea, allor m'increbbe, e pentuto e confesso mi rendei; ahi miser lasso! e giovato sarebbe.
Lo principe d'i novi Farisei, avendo guerra presso a Laterano, e non con Saracin ne' con Giudei,
che' ciascun suo nimico era cristiano, e nessun era stato a vincer Acri ne' mercatante in terra di Soldano;
ne' sommo officio ne' ordini sacri guardo` in se', ne' in me quel capestro che solea fare i suoi cinti piu` macri.
Ma come Costantin chiese Silvestro d'entro Siratti a guerir de la lebbre; cosi` mi chiese questi per maestro
a guerir de la sua superba febbre: domandommi consiglio, e io tacetti perche' le sue parole parver ebbre.
E' poi ridisse: "Tuo cuor non sospetti; finor t'assolvo, e tu m'insegna fare si` come Penestrino in terra getti.
Lo ciel poss'io serrare e diserrare, come tu sai; pero` son due le chiavi che 'l mio antecessor non ebbe care".
Allor mi pinser li argomenti gravi la` 've 'l tacer mi fu avviso 'l peggio, e dissi: "Padre, da che tu mi lavi
di quel peccato ov'io mo cader deggio, lunga promessa con l'attender corto ti fara` triunfar ne l'alto seggio".
Francesco venne poi com'io fu' morto, per me; ma un d'i neri cherubini li disse: "Non portar: non mi far torto.
Venir se ne dee giu` tra ' miei meschini perche' diede 'l consiglio frodolente, dal quale in qua stato li sono a' crini;
ch'assolver non si puo` chi non si pente, ne' pentere e volere insieme puossi per la contradizion che nol consente".
Oh me dolente! come mi riscossi quando mi prese dicendomi: "Forse tu non pensavi ch'io loico fossi!".
A Minos mi porto`; e quelli attorse otto volte la coda al dosso duro; e poi che per gran rabbia la si morse,
disse: "Questi e` d'i rei del foco furo"; per ch'io la` dove vedi son perduto, e si` vestito, andando, mi rancuro”.
Quand'elli ebbe 'l suo dir cosi` compiuto, la fiamma dolorando si partio, torcendo e dibattendo 'l corno aguto.
Noi passamm'oltre, e io e 'l duca mio, su per lo scoglio infino in su l'altr'arco che cuopre 'l fosso in che si paga il fio
a quei che scommettendo acquistan carco.
Chi poria mai pur con parole sciolte dicer del sangue e de le piaghe a pieno ch'i' ora vidi, per narrar piu` volte?
Ogne lingua per certo verria meno per lo nostro sermone e per la mente c'hanno a tanto comprender poco seno.
S'el s'aunasse ancor tutta la gente che gia` in su la fortunata terra di Puglia, fu del suo sangue dolente
per li Troiani e per la lunga guerra che de l'anella fe' si` alte spoglie, come Livio scrive, che non erra,
con quella che sentio di colpi doglie per contastare a Ruberto Guiscardo; e l'altra il cui ossame ancor s'accoglie
a Ceperan, la` dove fu bugiardo ciascun Pugliese, e la` da Tagliacozzo, dove sanz'arme vinse il vecchio Alardo;
e qual forato suo membro e qual mozzo mostrasse, d'aequar sarebbe nulla il modo de la nona bolgia sozzo.
Gia` veggia, per mezzul perdere o lulla, com'io vidi un, cosi` non si pertugia, rotto dal mento infin dove si trulla.
Tra le gambe pendevan le minugia; la corata pareva e 'l tristo sacco che merda fa di quel che si trangugia.
Mentre che tutto in lui veder m'attacco, guardommi, e con le man s'aperse il petto, dicendo: “Or vedi com'io mi dilacco!
vedi come storpiato e` Maometto! Dinanzi a me sen va piangendo Ali`, fesso nel volto dal mento al ciuffetto.
E tutti li altri che tu vedi qui, seminator di scandalo e di scisma fuor vivi, e pero` son fessi cosi`.
Un diavolo e` qua dietro che n'accisma si` crudelmente, al taglio de la spada rimettendo ciascun di questa risma,
quand'avem volta la dolente strada; pero` che le ferite son richiuse prima ch'altri dinanzi li rivada.
Ma tu chi se' che 'n su lo scoglio muse, forse per indugiar d'ire a la pena ch'e` giudicata in su le tue accuse?”.
“Ne' morte 'l giunse ancor, ne' colpa 'l mena”, rispuose 'l mio maestro “a tormentarlo; ma per dar lui esperienza piena,
a me, che morto son, convien menarlo per lo 'nferno qua giu` di giro in giro; e quest'e` ver cosi` com'io ti parlo”.
Piu` fuor di cento che, quando l'udiro, s'arrestaron nel fosso a riguardarmi per maraviglia obliando il martiro.
“Or di` a fra Dolcin dunque che s'armi, tu che forse vedra' il sole in breve, s'ello non vuol qui tosto seguitarmi,
si` di vivanda, che stretta di neve non rechi la vittoria al Noarese, ch'altrimenti acquistar non saria leve”.
Poi che l'un pie` per girsene sospese, Maometto mi disse esta parola; indi a partirsi in terra lo distese.
Un altro, che forata avea la gola e tronco 'l naso infin sotto le ciglia, e non avea mai ch'una orecchia sola,
ristato a riguardar per maraviglia con li altri, innanzi a li altri apri` la canna, ch'era di fuor d'ogni parte vermiglia,
e disse: “O tu cui colpa non condanna e cu' io vidi su in terra latina, se troppa simiglianza non m'inganna,
rimembriti di Pier da Medicina, se mai torni a veder lo dolce piano che da Vercelli a Marcabo` dichina.
E fa saper a' due miglior da Fano, a messer Guido e anco ad Angiolello, che, se l'antiveder qui non e` vano,
gittati saran fuor di lor vasello e mazzerati presso a la Cattolica per tradimento d'un tiranno fello.
Tra l'isola di Cipri e di Maiolica non vide mai si` gran fallo Nettuno, non da pirate, non da gente argolica.
Quel traditor che vede pur con l'uno, e tien la terra che tale qui meco vorrebbe di vedere esser digiuno,
fara` venirli a parlamento seco; poi fara` si`, ch'al vento di Focara non sara` lor mestier voto ne' preco”.
E io a lui: “Dimostrami e dichiara, se vuo' ch'i' porti su` di te novella, chi e` colui da la veduta amara”.
Allor puose la mano a la mascella d'un suo compagno e la bocca li aperse, gridando: “Questi e` desso, e non favella.
Questi, scacciato, il dubitar sommerse in Cesare, affermando che 'l fornito sempre con danno l'attender sofferse”.
Oh quanto mi pareva sbigottito con la lingua tagliata ne la strozza Curio, ch'a dir fu cosi` ardito!
E un ch'avea l'una e l'altra man mozza, levando i moncherin per l'aura fosca, si` che 'l sangue facea la faccia sozza,
grido`: “Ricordera'ti anche del Mosca, che disse, lasso!, "Capo ha cosa fatta", che fu mal seme per la gente tosca”.
E io li aggiunsi: “E morte di tua schiatta”; per ch'elli, accumulando duol con duolo, sen gio come persona trista e matta.
Ma io rimasi a riguardar lo stuolo, e vidi cosa, ch'io avrei paura, sanza piu` prova, di contarla solo;
se non che coscienza m'assicura, la buona compagnia che l'uom francheggia sotto l'asbergo del sentirsi pura.
Io vidi certo, e ancor par ch'io 'l veggia, un busto sanza capo andar si` come andavan li altri de la trista greggia;
e 'l capo tronco tenea per le chiome, pesol con mano a guisa di lanterna; e quel mirava noi e dicea: “Oh me!”.
Di se' facea a se' stesso lucerna, ed eran due in uno e uno in due: com'esser puo`, quei sa che si` governa.
Quando diritto al pie` del ponte fue, levo` 'l braccio alto con tutta la testa, per appressarne le parole sue,
che fuoro: “Or vedi la pena molesta tu che, spirando, vai veggendo i morti: vedi s'alcuna e` grande come questa.
E perche' tu di me novella porti, sappi ch'i' son Bertram dal Bornio, quelli che diedi al re giovane i ma' conforti.
Io feci il padre e 'l figlio in se' ribelli: Achitofel non fe' piu` d'Absalone e di David coi malvagi punzelli.
Perch'io parti' cosi` giunte persone, partito porto il mio cerebro, lasso!, dal suo principio ch'e` in questo troncone.
Cosi` s'osserva in me lo contrapasso”.
La molta gente e le diverse piaghe avean le luci mie si` inebriate, che de lo stare a piangere eran vaghe.
Ma Virgilio mi disse: “Che pur guate? perche' la vista tua pur si soffolge la` giu` tra l'ombre triste smozzicate?
Tu non hai fatto si` a l'altre bolge; pensa, se tu annoverar le credi, che miglia ventidue la valle volge.
E gia` la luna e` sotto i nostri piedi: lo tempo e` poco omai che n'e` concesso, e altro e` da veder che tu non vedi”.
“Se tu avessi”, rispuos'io appresso, “atteso a la cagion perch'io guardava, forse m'avresti ancor lo star dimesso”.
Parte sen giva, e io retro li andava, lo duca, gia` faccendo la risposta, e soggiugnendo: “Dentro a quella cava
dov'io tenea or li occhi si` a posta, credo ch'un spirto del mio sangue pianga la colpa che la` giu` cotanto costa”.
Allor disse 'l maestro: “Non si franga lo tuo pensier da qui innanzi sovr'ello. Attendi ad altro, ed ei la` si rimanga;
ch'io vidi lui a pie` del ponticello mostrarti, e minacciar forte, col dito, e udi' 'l nominar Geri del Bello.
Tu eri allor si` del tutto impedito sovra colui che gia` tenne Altaforte, che non guardasti in la`, si` fu partito”.
“O duca mio, la violenta morte che non li e` vendicata ancor”, diss'io, “per alcun che de l'onta sia consorte,
fece lui disdegnoso; ond'el sen gio sanza parlarmi, si` com'io estimo: e in cio` m'ha el fatto a se' piu` pio”.
Cosi` parlammo infino al loco primo che de lo scoglio l'altra valle mostra, se piu` lume vi fosse, tutto ad imo.
Quando noi fummo sor l'ultima chiostra di Malebolge, si` che i suoi conversi potean parere a la veduta nostra,
lamenti saettaron me diversi, che di pieta` ferrati avean li strali; ond'io li orecchi con le man copersi.
Qual dolor fora, se de li spedali, di Valdichiana tra 'l luglio e 'l settembre e di Maremma e di Sardigna i mali
fossero in una fossa tutti 'nsembre, tal era quivi, e tal puzzo n'usciva qual suol venir de le marcite membre.
Noi discendemmo in su l'ultima riva del lungo scoglio, pur da man sinistra; e allor fu la mia vista piu` viva
giu` ver lo fondo, la 've la ministra de l'alto Sire infallibil giustizia punisce i falsador che qui registra.
Non credo ch'a veder maggior tristizia fosse in Egina il popol tutto infermo, quando fu l'aere si` pien di malizia,
che li animali, infino al picciol vermo, cascaron tutti, e poi le genti antiche, secondo che i poeti hanno per fermo,
si ristorar di seme di formiche; ch'era a veder per quella oscura valle languir li spirti per diverse biche.
Qual sovra 'l ventre, e qual sovra le spalle l'un de l'altro giacea, e qual carpone si trasmutava per lo tristo calle.
Passo passo andavam sanza sermone, guardando e ascoltando li ammalati, che non potean levar le lor persone.
Io vidi due sedere a se' poggiati, com'a scaldar si poggia tegghia a tegghia, dal capo al pie` di schianze macolati;
e non vidi gia` mai menare stregghia a ragazzo aspettato dal segnorso, ne' a colui che mal volontier vegghia,
come ciascun menava spesso il morso de l'unghie sopra se' per la gran rabbia del pizzicor, che non ha piu` soccorso;
e si` traevan giu` l'unghie la scabbia, come coltel di scardova le scaglie o d'altro pesce che piu` larghe l'abbia.
“O tu che con le dita ti dismaglie”, comincio` 'l duca mio a l'un di loro, “e che fai d'esse talvolta tanaglie,
dinne s'alcun Latino e` tra costoro che son quinc'entro, se l'unghia ti basti etternalmente a cotesto lavoro”.
“Latin siam noi, che tu vedi si` guasti qui ambedue”, rispuose l'un piangendo; “ma tu chi se' che di noi dimandasti?”.
E 'l duca disse: “I' son un che discendo con questo vivo giu` di balzo in balzo, e di mostrar lo 'nferno a lui intendo”.
Allor si ruppe lo comun rincalzo; e tremando ciascuno a me si volse con altri che l'udiron di rimbalzo.
Lo buon maestro a me tutto s'accolse, dicendo: “Di` a lor cio` che tu vuoli”; e io incominciai, poscia ch'ei volse:
“Se la vostra memoria non s'imboli nel primo mondo da l'umane menti, ma s'ella viva sotto molti soli,
ditemi chi voi siete e di che genti; la vostra sconcia e fastidiosa pena di palesarvi a me non vi spaventi”.
“Io fui d'Arezzo, e Albero da Siena”, rispuose l'un, “mi fe' mettere al foco; ma quel per ch'io mori' qui non mi mena.
Vero e` ch'i' dissi lui, parlando a gioco: "I' mi saprei levar per l'aere a volo"; e quei, ch'avea vaghezza e senno poco,
volle ch'i' li mostrassi l'arte; e solo perch'io nol feci Dedalo, mi fece ardere a tal che l'avea per figliuolo.
Ma nell 'ultima bolgia de le diece me per l'alchimia che nel mondo usai danno` Minos, a cui fallar non lece”.
E io dissi al poeta: “Or fu gia` mai gente si` vana come la sanese? Certo non la francesca si` d'assai!”.
Onde l'altro lebbroso, che m'intese, rispuose al detto mio: “Tra'mene Stricca che seppe far le temperate spese,
e Niccolo` che la costuma ricca del garofano prima discoverse ne l'orto dove tal seme s'appicca;
e tra'ne la brigata in che disperse Caccia d'Ascian la vigna e la gran fonda, e l'Abbagliato suo senno proferse.
Ma perche' sappi chi si` ti seconda contra i Sanesi, aguzza ver me l'occhio, si` che la faccia mia ben ti risponda:
si` vedrai ch'io son l'ombra di Capocchio, che falsai li metalli con l'alchimia; e te dee ricordar, se ben t'adocchio,
com'io fui di natura buona scimia”.
Nel tempo che Iunone era crucciata per Semele` contra 'l sangue tebano, come mostro` una e altra fiata,
Atamante divenne tanto insano, che veggendo la moglie con due figli andar carcata da ciascuna mano,
grido`: “Tendiam le reti, si` ch'io pigli la leonessa e ' leoncini al varco”; e poi distese i dispietati artigli,
prendendo l'un ch'avea nome Learco, e rotollo e percosselo ad un sasso; e quella s'annego` con l'altro carco.
E quando la fortuna volse in basso l'altezza de' Troian che tutto ardiva, si` che 'nsieme col regno il re fu casso,
Ecuba trista, misera e cattiva, poscia che vide Polissena morta, e del suo Polidoro in su la riva
del mar si fu la dolorosa accorta, forsennata latro` si` come cane; tanto il dolor le fe' la mente torta.
Ma ne' di Tebe furie ne' troiane si vider mai in alcun tanto crude, non punger bestie, nonche' membra umane,
quant'io vidi in due ombre smorte e nude, che mordendo correvan di quel modo che 'l porco quando del porcil si schiude.
L'una giunse a Capocchio, e in sul nodo del collo l'assanno`, si` che, tirando, grattar li fece il ventre al fondo sodo.
E l'Aretin che rimase, tremando mi disse: “Quel folletto e` Gianni Schicchi, e va rabbioso altrui cosi` conciando”.
“Oh!”, diss'io lui, “se l'altro non ti ficchi li denti a dosso, non ti sia fatica a dir chi e`, pria che di qui si spicchi”.
Ed elli a me: “Quell'e` l'anima antica di Mirra scellerata, che divenne al padre fuor del dritto amore amica.
Questa a peccar con esso cosi` venne, falsificando se' in altrui forma, come l'altro che la` sen va, sostenne,
per guadagnar la donna de la torma, falsificare in se' Buoso Donati, testando e dando al testamento norma”.
E poi che i due rabbiosi fuor passati sovra cu' io avea l'occhio tenuto, rivolsilo a guardar li altri mal nati.
Io vidi un, fatto a guisa di leuto, pur ch'elli avesse avuta l'anguinaia tronca da l'altro che l'uomo ha forcuto.
La grave idropesi`, che si` dispaia le membra con l'omor che mal converte, che 'l viso non risponde a la ventraia,
facea lui tener le labbra aperte come l'etico fa, che per la sete l'un verso 'l mento e l'altro in su` rinverte.
“O voi che sanz'alcuna pena siete, e non so io perche', nel mondo gramo”, diss'elli a noi, “guardate e attendete
a la miseria del maestro Adamo: io ebbi vivo assai di quel ch'i' volli, e ora, lasso!, un gocciol d'acqua bramo.
Li ruscelletti che d'i verdi colli del Casentin discendon giuso in Arno, faccendo i lor canali freddi e molli,
sempre mi stanno innanzi, e non indarno, che' l'imagine lor vie piu` m'asciuga che 'l male ond'io nel volto mi discarno.
La rigida giustizia che mi fruga tragge cagion del loco ov'io peccai a metter piu` li miei sospiri in fuga.
Ivi e` Romena, la` dov'io falsai la lega suggellata del Batista; per ch'io il corpo su` arso lasciai.
Ma s'io vedessi qui l'anima trista di Guido o d'Alessandro o di lor frate, per Fonte Branda non darei la vista.
Dentro c'e` l'una gia`, se l'arrabbiate ombre che vanno intorno dicon vero; ma che mi val, c'ho le membra legate?
S'io fossi pur di tanto ancor leggero ch'i' potessi in cent'anni andare un'oncia, io sarei messo gia` per lo sentiero,
cercando lui tra questa gente sconcia, con tutto ch'ella volge undici miglia, e men d'un mezzo di traverso non ci ha.
Io son per lor tra si` fatta famiglia: e' m'indussero a batter li fiorini ch'avevan tre carati di mondiglia”.
E io a lui: “Chi son li due tapini che fumman come man bagnate 'l verno, giacendo stretti a' tuoi destri confini?”.
“Qui li trovai - e poi volta non dierno - “, rispuose, “quando piovvi in questo greppo, e non credo che dieno in sempiterno.
L'una e` la falsa ch'accuso` Gioseppo; l'altr'e` 'l falso Sinon greco di Troia: per febbre aguta gittan tanto leppo”.
E l'un di lor, che si reco` a noia forse d'esser nomato si` oscuro, col pugno li percosse l'epa croia.
Quella sono` come fosse un tamburo; e mastro Adamo li percosse il volto col braccio suo, che non parve men duro,
dicendo a lui: “Ancor che mi sia tolto lo muover per le membra che son gravi, ho io il braccio a tal mestiere sciolto”.
Ond'ei rispuose: “Quando tu andavi al fuoco, non l'avei tu cosi` presto; ma si` e piu` l'avei quando coniavi”.
E l'idropico: “Tu di' ver di questo: ma tu non fosti si` ver testimonio la` 've del ver fosti a Troia richesto”.
“S'io dissi falso, e tu falsasti il conio”, disse Sinon; “e son qui per un fallo, e tu per piu` ch'alcun altro demonio!”.
“Ricorditi, spergiuro, del cavallo”, rispuose quel ch'avea infiata l'epa; “e sieti reo che tutto il mondo sallo!”.
“E te sia rea la sete onde ti crepa”, disse 'l Greco, “la lingua, e l'acqua marcia che 'l ventre innanzi a li occhi si` t'assiepa!”.
Allora il monetier: “Cosi` si squarcia la bocca tua per tuo mal come suole; che' s'i' ho sete e omor mi rinfarcia,
tu hai l'arsura e 'l capo che ti duole, e per leccar lo specchio di Narcisso, non vorresti a 'nvitar molte parole”.
Ad ascoltarli er'io del tutto fisso, quando 'l maestro mi disse: “Or pur mira, che per poco che teco non mi risso!”.
Quand'io 'l senti' a me parlar con ira, volsimi verso lui con tal vergogna, ch'ancor per la memoria mi si gira.
Qual e` colui che suo dannaggio sogna, che sognando desidera sognare, si` che quel ch'e`, come non fosse, agogna,
tal mi fec'io, non possendo parlare, che disiava scusarmi, e scusava me tuttavia, e nol mi credea fare.
“Maggior difetto men vergogna lava”, disse 'l maestro, “che 'l tuo non e` stato; pero` d'ogne trestizia ti disgrava.
E fa ragion ch'io ti sia sempre allato, se piu` avvien che fortuna t'accoglia dove sien genti in simigliante piato:
che' voler cio` udire e` bassa voglia”.
Una medesma lingua pria mi morse, si` che mi tinse l'una e l'altra guancia, e poi la medicina mi riporse;
cosi` od'io che solea far la lancia d'Achille e del suo padre esser cagione prima di trista e poi di buona mancia.
Noi demmo il dosso al misero vallone su per la ripa che 'l cinge dintorno, attraversando sanza alcun sermone.
Quiv'era men che notte e men che giorno, si` che 'l viso m'andava innanzi poco; ma io senti' sonare un alto corno,
tanto ch'avrebbe ogne tuon fatto fioco, che, contra se' la sua via seguitando, dirizzo` li occhi miei tutti ad un loco.
Dopo la dolorosa rotta, quando Carlo Magno perde' la santa gesta, non sono` si` terribilmente Orlando.
Poco portai in la` volta la testa, che me parve veder molte alte torri; ond'io: “Maestro, di', che terra e` questa?”.
Ed elli a me: “Pero` che tu trascorri per le tenebre troppo da la lungi, avvien che poi nel maginare abborri.
Tu vedrai ben, se tu la` ti congiungi, quanto 'l senso s'inganna di lontano; pero` alquanto piu` te stesso pungi”.
Poi caramente mi prese per mano, e disse: “Pria che noi siamo piu` avanti, accio` che 'l fatto men ti paia strano,
sappi che non son torri, ma giganti, e son nel pozzo intorno da la ripa da l'umbilico in giuso tutti quanti”.
Come quando la nebbia si dissipa, lo sguardo a poco a poco raffigura cio` che cela 'l vapor che l'aere stipa,
cosi` forando l'aura grossa e scura, piu` e piu` appressando ver' la sponda, fuggiemi errore e cresciemi paura;
pero` che come su la cerchia tonda Montereggion di torri si corona, cosi` la proda che 'l pozzo circonda
torreggiavan di mezza la persona li orribili giganti, cui minaccia Giove del cielo ancora quando tuona.
E io scorgeva gia` d'alcun la faccia, le spalle e 'l petto e del ventre gran parte, e per le coste giu` ambo le braccia.
Natura certo, quando lascio` l'arte di si` fatti animali, assai fe' bene per torre tali essecutori a Marte.
E s'ella d'elefanti e di balene non si pente, chi guarda sottilmente, piu` giusta e piu` discreta la ne tene;
che' dove l'argomento de la mente s'aggiugne al mal volere e a la possa, nessun riparo vi puo` far la gente.
La faccia sua mi parea lunga e grossa come la pina di San Pietro a Roma, e a sua proporzione eran l'altre ossa;
si` che la ripa, ch'era perizoma dal mezzo in giu`, ne mostrava ben tanto di sovra, che di giugnere a la chioma
tre Frison s'averien dato mal vanto; pero` ch'i' ne vedea trenta gran palmi dal loco in giu` dov'omo affibbia 'l manto.
“Raphel mai` ameche zabi` almi”, comincio` a gridar la fiera bocca, cui non si convenia piu` dolci salmi.
E 'l duca mio ver lui: “Anima sciocca, tienti col corno, e con quel ti disfoga quand'ira o altra passion ti tocca!
Cercati al collo, e troverai la soga che 'l tien legato, o anima confusa, e vedi lui che 'l gran petto ti doga”.
Poi disse a me: “Elli stessi s'accusa; questi e` Nembrotto per lo cui mal coto pur un linguaggio nel mondo non s'usa.
Lascianlo stare e non parliamo a voto; che' cosi` e` a lui ciascun linguaggio come 'l suo ad altrui, ch'a nullo e` noto”.
Facemmo adunque piu` lungo viaggio, volti a sinistra; e al trar d'un balestro, trovammo l'altro assai piu` fero e maggio.
A cigner lui qual che fosse 'l maestro, non so io dir, ma el tenea soccinto dinanzi l'altro e dietro il braccio destro
d'una catena che 'l tenea avvinto dal collo in giu`, si` che 'n su lo scoperto si ravvolgea infino al giro quinto.
“Questo superbo volle esser esperto di sua potenza contra 'l sommo Giove”, disse 'l mio duca, “ond'elli ha cotal merto.
Fialte ha nome, e fece le gran prove quando i giganti fer paura a' dei; le braccia ch'el meno`, gia` mai non move”.
E io a lui: “S'esser puote, io vorrei che de lo smisurato Briareo esperienza avesser li occhi miei”.
Ond'ei rispuose: “Tu vedrai Anteo presso di qui che parla ed e` disciolto, che ne porra` nel fondo d'ogne reo.
Quel che tu vuo' veder, piu` la` e` molto, ed e` legato e fatto come questo, salvo che piu` feroce par nel volto”.
Non fu tremoto gia` tanto rubesto, che scotesse una torre cosi` forte, come Fialte a scuotersi fu presto.
Allor temett'io piu` che mai la morte, e non v'era mestier piu` che la dotta, s'io non avessi viste le ritorte.
Noi procedemmo piu` avante allotta, e venimmo ad Anteo, che ben cinque alle, sanza la testa, uscia fuor de la grotta.
“O tu che ne la fortunata valle che fece Scipion di gloria reda, quand'Anibal co' suoi diede le spalle,
recasti gia` mille leon per preda, e che, se fossi stato a l'alta guerra de'tuoi fratelli, ancor par che si creda
ch'avrebber vinto i figli de la terra; mettine giu`, e non ten vegna schifo, dove Cocito la freddura serra.
Non ci fare ire a Tizio ne' a Tifo: questi puo` dar di quel che qui si brama; pero` ti china, e non torcer lo grifo.
Ancor ti puo` nel mondo render fama, ch'el vive, e lunga vita ancor aspetta se 'nnanzi tempo grazia a se' nol chiama”.
Cosi` disse 'l maestro; e quelli in fretta le man distese, e prese 'l duca mio, ond'Ercule senti` gia` grande stretta.
Virgilio, quando prender si sentio, disse a me: “Fatti qua, si` ch'io ti prenda”; poi fece si` ch'un fascio era elli e io.
Qual pare a riguardar la Carisenda sotto 'l chinato, quando un nuvol vada sovr'essa si`, ched ella incontro penda;
tal parve Anteo a me che stava a bada di vederlo chinare, e fu tal ora ch'i' avrei voluto ir per altra strada.
Ma lievemente al fondo che divora Lucifero con Giuda, ci sposo`; ne' si` chinato, li` fece dimora,
e come albero in nave si levo`.
S'io avessi le rime aspre e chiocce, come si converrebbe al tristo buco sovra 'l qual pontan tutte l'altre rocce,
io premerei di mio concetto il suco piu` pienamente; ma perch'io non l'abbo, non sanza tema a dicer mi conduco;
che' non e` impresa da pigliare a gabbo discriver fondo a tutto l'universo, ne' da lingua che chiami mamma o babbo.
Ma quelle donne aiutino il mio verso ch'aiutaro Anfione a chiuder Tebe, si` che dal fatto il dir non sia diverso.
Oh sovra tutte mal creata plebe che stai nel loco onde parlare e` duro, mei foste state qui pecore o zebe!
Come noi fummo giu` nel pozzo scuro sotto i pie` del gigante assai piu` bassi, e io mirava ancora a l'alto muro,
dicere udi'mi: “Guarda come passi: va si`, che tu non calchi con le piante le teste de' fratei miseri lassi”.
Per ch'io mi volsi, e vidimi davante e sotto i piedi un lago che per gelo avea di vetro e non d'acqua sembiante.
Non fece al corso suo si` grosso velo di verno la Danoia in Osterlicchi, ne' Tanai la` sotto 'l freddo cielo,
com'era quivi; che se Tambernicchi vi fosse su` caduto, o Pietrapana, non avria pur da l'orlo fatto cricchi.
E come a gracidar si sta la rana col muso fuor de l'acqua, quando sogna di spigolar sovente la villana;
livide, insin la` dove appar vergogna eran l'ombre dolenti ne la ghiaccia, mettendo i denti in nota di cicogna.
Ognuna in giu` tenea volta la faccia; da bocca il freddo, e da li occhi il cor tristo tra lor testimonianza si procaccia.
Quand'io m'ebbi dintorno alquanto visto, volsimi a' piedi, e vidi due si` stretti, che 'l pel del capo avieno insieme misto.
“Ditemi, voi che si` strignete i petti”, diss'io, “chi siete?”. E quei piegaro i colli; e poi ch'ebber li visi a me eretti,
li occhi lor, ch'eran pria pur dentro molli, gocciar su per le labbra, e 'l gelo strinse le lagrime tra essi e riserrolli.
Con legno legno spranga mai non cinse forte cosi`; ond'ei come due becchi cozzaro insieme, tanta ira li vinse.
E un ch'avea perduti ambo li orecchi per la freddura, pur col viso in giue, disse: “Perche' cotanto in noi ti specchi?
Se vuoi saper chi son cotesti due, la valle onde Bisenzo si dichina del padre loro Alberto e di lor fue.
D'un corpo usciro; e tutta la Caina potrai cercare, e non troverai ombra degna piu` d'esser fitta in gelatina;
non quelli a cui fu rotto il petto e l'ombra con esso un colpo per la man d'Artu`; non Focaccia; non questi che m'ingombra
col capo si`, ch'i' non veggio oltre piu`, e fu nomato Sassol Mascheroni; se tosco se', ben sai omai chi fu.
E perche' non mi metti in piu` sermoni, sappi ch'i' fu' il Camiscion de' Pazzi; e aspetto Carlin che mi scagioni”.
Poscia vid'io mille visi cagnazzi fatti per freddo; onde mi vien riprezzo, e verra` sempre, de' gelati guazzi.
E mentre ch'andavamo inver' lo mezzo al quale ogne gravezza si rauna, e io tremava ne l'etterno rezzo;
se voler fu o destino o fortuna, non so; ma, passeggiando tra le teste, forte percossi 'l pie` nel viso ad una.
Piangendo mi sgrido`: “Perche' mi peste? se tu non vieni a crescer la vendetta di Montaperti, perche' mi moleste?”.
E io: “Maestro mio, or qui m'aspetta, si ch'io esca d'un dubbio per costui; poi mi farai, quantunque vorrai, fretta”.
Lo duca stette, e io dissi a colui che bestemmiava duramente ancora: “Qual se' tu che cosi` rampogni altrui?”.
“Or tu chi se' che vai per l'Antenora, percotendo”, rispuose, “altrui le gote, si` che, se fossi vivo, troppo fora?”.
“Vivo son io, e caro esser ti puote”, fu mia risposta, “se dimandi fama, ch'io metta il nome tuo tra l'altre note”.
Ed elli a me: “Del contrario ho io brama. Levati quinci e non mi dar piu` lagna, che' mal sai lusingar per questa lama!”.
Allor lo presi per la cuticagna, e dissi: “El converra` che tu ti nomi, o che capel qui su` non ti rimagna”.
Ond'elli a me: “Perche' tu mi dischiomi, ne' ti diro` ch'io sia, ne' mosterrolti, se mille fiate in sul capo mi tomi”.
Io avea gia` i capelli in mano avvolti, e tratto glien'avea piu` d'una ciocca, latrando lui con li occhi in giu` raccolti,
quando un altro grido`: “Che hai tu, Bocca? non ti basta sonar con le mascelle, se tu non latri? qual diavol ti tocca?”.
“Omai”, diss'io, “non vo' che piu` favelle, malvagio traditor; ch'a la tua onta io portero` di te vere novelle”.
“Va via”, rispuose, “e cio` che tu vuoi conta; ma non tacer, se tu di qua entro eschi, di quel ch'ebbe or cosi` la lingua pronta.
El piange qui l'argento de' Franceschi: "Io vidi", potrai dir, "quel da Duera la` dove i peccatori stanno freschi".
Se fossi domandato "Altri chi v'era?", tu hai dallato quel di Beccheria di cui sego` Fiorenza la gorgiera.
Gianni de' Soldanier credo che sia piu` la` con Ganellone e Tebaldello, ch'apri` Faenza quando si dormia”.
Noi eravam partiti gia` da ello, ch'io vidi due ghiacciati in una buca, si` che l'un capo a l'altro era cappello;
e come 'l pan per fame si manduca, cosi` 'l sovran li denti a l'altro pose la` 've 'l cervel s'aggiugne con la nuca:
non altrimenti Tideo si rose le tempie a Menalippo per disdegno, che quei faceva il teschio e l'altre cose.
“O tu che mostri per si` bestial segno odio sovra colui che tu ti mangi, dimmi 'l perche'“, diss'io, “per tal convegno,
che se tu a ragion di lui ti piangi, sappiendo chi voi siete e la sua pecca, nel mondo suso ancora io te ne cangi,
se quella con ch'io parlo non si secca”.
La bocca sollevo` dal fiero pasto quel peccator, forbendola a'capelli del capo ch'elli avea di retro guasto.
Poi comincio`: “Tu vuo' ch'io rinovelli disperato dolor che 'l cor mi preme gia` pur pensando, pria ch'io ne favelli.
Ma se le mie parole esser dien seme che frutti infamia al traditor ch'i' rodo, parlar e lagrimar vedrai insieme.
Io non so chi tu se' ne' per che modo venuto se' qua giu`; ma fiorentino mi sembri veramente quand'io t'odo.
Tu dei saper ch'i' fui conte Ugolino, e questi e` l'arcivescovo Ruggieri: or ti diro` perche' i son tal vicino.
Che per l'effetto de' suo' mai pensieri, fidandomi di lui, io fossi preso e poscia morto, dir non e` mestieri;
pero` quel che non puoi avere inteso, cioe` come la morte mia fu cruda, udirai, e saprai s'e' m'ha offeso.
Breve pertugio dentro da la Muda la qual per me ha 'l titol de la fame, e che conviene ancor ch'altrui si chiuda,
m'avea mostrato per lo suo forame piu` lune gia`, quand'io feci 'l mal sonno che del futuro mi squarcio` 'l velame.
Questi pareva a me maestro e donno, cacciando il lupo e ' lupicini al monte per che i Pisan veder Lucca non ponno.
Con cagne magre, studiose e conte Gualandi con Sismondi e con Lanfranchi s'avea messi dinanzi da la fronte.
In picciol corso mi parieno stanchi lo padre e ' figli, e con l'agute scane mi parea lor veder fender li fianchi.
Quando fui desto innanzi la dimane, pianger senti' fra 'l sonno i miei figliuoli ch'eran con meco, e dimandar del pane.
Ben se' crudel, se tu gia` non ti duoli pensando cio` che 'l mio cor s'annunziava; e se non piangi, di che pianger suoli?
Gia` eran desti, e l'ora s'appressava che 'l cibo ne solea essere addotto, e per suo sogno ciascun dubitava;
e io senti' chiavar l'uscio di sotto a l'orribile torre; ond'io guardai nel viso a' mie' figliuoi sanza far motto.
Io non piangea, si` dentro impetrai: piangevan elli; e Anselmuccio mio disse: "Tu guardi si`, padre! che hai?".
Percio` non lacrimai ne' rispuos'io tutto quel giorno ne' la notte appresso, infin che l'altro sol nel mondo uscio.
Come un poco di raggio si fu messo nel doloroso carcere, e io scorsi per quattro visi il mio aspetto stesso,
ambo le man per lo dolor mi morsi; ed ei, pensando ch'io 'l fessi per voglia di manicar, di subito levorsi
e disser: "Padre, assai ci fia men doglia se tu mangi di noi: tu ne vestisti queste misere carni, e tu le spoglia".
Queta'mi allor per non farli piu` tristi; lo di` e l'altro stemmo tutti muti; ahi dura terra, perche' non t'apristi?
Poscia che fummo al quarto di` venuti, Gaddo mi si gitto` disteso a' piedi, dicendo: "Padre mio, che' non mi aiuti?".
Quivi mori`; e come tu mi vedi, vid'io cascar li tre ad uno ad uno tra 'l quinto di` e 'l sesto; ond'io mi diedi,
gia` cieco, a brancolar sovra ciascuno, e due di` li chiamai, poi che fur morti. Poscia, piu` che 'l dolor, pote' 'l digiuno”.
Quand'ebbe detto cio`, con li occhi torti riprese 'l teschio misero co'denti, che furo a l'osso, come d'un can, forti.
Ahi Pisa, vituperio de le genti del bel paese la` dove 'l si` suona, poi che i vicini a te punir son lenti,
muovasi la Capraia e la Gorgona, e faccian siepe ad Arno in su la foce, si` ch'elli annieghi in te ogne persona!
Che' se 'l conte Ugolino aveva voce d'aver tradita te de le castella, non dovei tu i figliuoi porre a tal croce.
Innocenti facea l'eta` novella, novella Tebe, Uguiccione e 'l Brigata e li altri due che 'l canto suso appella.
Noi passammo oltre, la` 've la gelata ruvidamente un'altra gente fascia, non volta in giu`, ma tutta riversata.
Lo pianto stesso li` pianger non lascia, e 'l duol che truova in su li occhi rintoppo, si volge in entro a far crescer l'ambascia;
che' le lagrime prime fanno groppo, e si` come visiere di cristallo, riempion sotto 'l ciglio tutto il coppo.
E avvegna che, si` come d'un callo, per la freddura ciascun sentimento cessato avesse del mio viso stallo,
gia` mi parea sentire alquanto vento: per ch'io: “Maestro mio, questo chi move? non e` qua giu` ogne vapore spento?”.
Ond'elli a me: “Avaccio sarai dove di cio` ti fara` l'occhio la risposta, veggendo la cagion che 'l fiato piove”.
E un de' tristi de la fredda crosta grido` a noi: “O anime crudeli, tanto che data v'e` l'ultima posta,
levatemi dal viso i duri veli, si` ch'io sfoghi 'l duol che 'l cor m'impregna, un poco, pria che 'l pianto si raggeli”.
Per ch'io a lui: “Se vuo' ch'i' ti sovvegna, dimmi chi se', e s'io non ti disbrigo, al fondo de la ghiaccia ir mi convegna”.
Rispuose adunque: “I' son frate Alberigo; i' son quel da le frutta del mal orto, che qui riprendo dattero per figo”.
“Oh!”, diss'io lui, “or se' tu ancor morto?”. Ed elli a me: “Come 'l mio corpo stea nel mondo su`, nulla scienza porto.
Cotal vantaggio ha questa Tolomea, che spesse volte l'anima ci cade innanzi ch'Atropos mossa le dea.
E perche' tu piu` volentier mi rade le 'nvetriate lagrime dal volto, sappie che, tosto che l'anima trade
come fec'io, il corpo suo l'e` tolto da un demonio, che poscia il governa mentre che 'l tempo suo tutto sia volto.
Ella ruina in si` fatta cisterna; e forse pare ancor lo corpo suso de l'ombra che di qua dietro mi verna.
Tu 'l dei saper, se tu vien pur mo giuso: elli e` ser Branca Doria, e son piu` anni poscia passati ch'el fu si` racchiuso”.
“Io credo”, diss'io lui, “che tu m'inganni; che' Branca Doria non mori` unquanche, e mangia e bee e dorme e veste panni”.
“Nel fosso su`”, diss'el, “de' Malebranche, la` dove bolle la tenace pece, non era ancor giunto Michel Zanche,
che questi lascio` il diavolo in sua vece nel corpo suo, ed un suo prossimano che 'l tradimento insieme con lui fece.
Ma distendi oggimai in qua la mano; aprimi li occhi”. E io non gliel'apersi; e cortesia fu lui esser villano.
Ahi Genovesi, uomini diversi d'ogne costume e pien d'ogne magagna, perche' non siete voi del mondo spersi?
Che' col peggiore spirto di Romagna trovai di voi un tal, che per sua opra in anima in Cocito gia` si bagna,
e in corpo par vivo ancor di sopra.
“Vexilla regis prodeunt inferni verso di noi; pero` dinanzi mira”, disse 'l maestro mio “se tu 'l discerni”.
Come quando una grossa nebbia spira, o quando l'emisperio nostro annotta, par di lungi un molin che 'l vento gira,
veder mi parve un tal dificio allotta; poi per lo vento mi ristrinsi retro al duca mio; che' non li` era altra grotta.
Gia` era, e con paura il metto in metro, la` dove l'ombre tutte eran coperte, e trasparien come festuca in vetro.
Altre sono a giacere; altre stanno erte, quella col capo e quella con le piante; altra, com'arco, il volto a' pie` rinverte.
Quando noi fummo fatti tanto avante, ch'al mio maestro piacque di mostrarmi la creatura ch'ebbe il bel sembiante,
d'innanzi mi si tolse e fe' restarmi, “Ecco Dite”, dicendo, “ed ecco il loco ove convien che di fortezza t'armi”.
Com'io divenni allor gelato e fioco, nol dimandar, lettor, ch'i' non lo scrivo, pero` ch'ogne parlar sarebbe poco.
Io non mori' e non rimasi vivo: pensa oggimai per te, s'hai fior d'ingegno, qual io divenni, d'uno e d'altro privo.
Lo 'mperador del doloroso regno da mezzo 'l petto uscia fuor de la ghiaccia; e piu` con un gigante io mi convegno,
che i giganti non fan con le sue braccia: vedi oggimai quant'esser dee quel tutto ch'a cosi` fatta parte si confaccia.
S'el fu si` bel com'elli e` ora brutto, e contra 'l suo fattore alzo` le ciglia, ben dee da lui proceder ogne lutto.
Oh quanto parve a me gran maraviglia quand'io vidi tre facce a la sua testa! L'una dinanzi, e quella era vermiglia;
l'altr'eran due, che s'aggiugnieno a questa sovresso 'l mezzo di ciascuna spalla, e se' giugnieno al loco de la cresta:
e la destra parea tra bianca e gialla; la sinistra a vedere era tal, quali vegnon di la` onde 'l Nilo s'avvalla.
Sotto ciascuna uscivan due grand'ali, quanto si convenia a tanto uccello: vele di mar non vid'io mai cotali.
Non avean penne, ma di vispistrello era lor modo; e quelle svolazzava, si` che tre venti si movean da ello:
quindi Cocito tutto s'aggelava. Con sei occhi piangea, e per tre menti gocciava 'l pianto e sanguinosa bava.
Da ogne bocca dirompea co' denti un peccatore, a guisa di maciulla, si` che tre ne facea cosi` dolenti.
A quel dinanzi il mordere era nulla verso 'l graffiar, che talvolta la schiena rimanea de la pelle tutta brulla.
“Quell'anima la` su` c'ha maggior pena”, disse 'l maestro, “e` Giuda Scariotto, che 'l capo ha dentro e fuor le gambe mena.
De li altri due c'hanno il capo di sotto, quel che pende dal nero ceffo e` Bruto: vedi come si storce, e non fa motto!;
e l'altro e` Cassio che par si` membruto. Ma la notte risurge, e oramai e` da partir, che' tutto avem veduto”.
Com'a lui piacque, il collo li avvinghiai; ed el prese di tempo e loco poste, e quando l'ali fuoro aperte assai,
appiglio` se' a le vellute coste; di vello in vello giu` discese poscia tra 'l folto pelo e le gelate croste.
Quando noi fummo la` dove la coscia si volge, a punto in sul grosso de l'anche, lo duca, con fatica e con angoscia,
volse la testa ov'elli avea le zanche, e aggrappossi al pel com'om che sale, si` che 'n inferno i' credea tornar anche.
“Attienti ben, che' per cotali scale”, disse 'l maestro, ansando com'uom lasso, “conviensi dipartir da tanto male”.
Poi usci` fuor per lo foro d'un sasso, e puose me in su l'orlo a sedere; appresso porse a me l'accorto passo.
Io levai li occhi e credetti vedere Lucifero com'io l'avea lasciato, e vidili le gambe in su` tenere;
e s'io divenni allora travagliato, la gente grossa il pensi, che non vede qual e` quel punto ch'io avea passato.
“Levati su`”, disse 'l maestro, “in piede: la via e` lunga e 'l cammino e` malvagio, e gia` il sole a mezza terza riede”.
Non era camminata di palagio la` 'v'eravam, ma natural burella ch'avea mal suolo e di lume disagio.
“Prima ch'io de l'abisso mi divella, maestro mio”, diss'io quando fui dritto, “a trarmi d'erro un poco mi favella:
ov'e` la ghiaccia? e questi com'e` fitto si` sottosopra? e come, in si` poc'ora, da sera a mane ha fatto il sol tragitto?”.
Ed elli a me: “Tu imagini ancora d'esser di la` dal centro, ov'io mi presi al pel del vermo reo che 'l mondo fora.
Di la` fosti cotanto quant'io scesi; quand'io mi volsi, tu passasti 'l punto al qual si traggon d'ogne parte i pesi.
E se' or sotto l'emisperio giunto ch'e` contraposto a quel che la gran secca coverchia, e sotto 'l cui colmo consunto
fu l'uom che nacque e visse sanza pecca: tu hai i piedi in su picciola spera che l'altra faccia fa de la Giudecca.
Qui e` da man, quando di la` e` sera; e questi, che ne fe' scala col pelo, fitto e` ancora si` come prim'era.
Da questa parte cadde giu` dal cielo; e la terra, che pria di qua si sporse, per paura di lui fe' del mar velo,
e venne a l'emisperio nostro; e forse per fuggir lui lascio` qui loco voto quella ch'appar di qua, e su` ricorse”.
Luogo e` la` giu` da Belzebu` remoto tanto quanto la tomba si distende, che non per vista, ma per suono e` noto
d'un ruscelletto che quivi discende per la buca d'un sasso, ch'elli ha roso, col corso ch'elli avvolge, e poco pende.
Lo duca e io per quel cammino ascoso intrammo a ritornar nel chiaro mondo; e sanza cura aver d'alcun riposo,
salimmo su`, el primo e io secondo, tanto ch'i' vidi de le cose belle che porta 'l ciel, per un pertugio tondo.
E quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle. |
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Canto Highlights:
I. The Shores of Purgatory. The Four Stars. Cato of Utica. The Rush.
II. The Celestial Pilot. Casella. The Departure.
III. Discourse on the Limits of Reason. The Foot of the Mountain. Those who died in Contumacy of Holy Church. Manfredi.
IV. Farther Ascent. Nature of the Mountain. The Negligent, who postponed Repentance till the last Hour. Belacqua.
V. Those who died by Violence, but repentant.Buonconte di Monfeltro. La Pia.
VI. Dante's Inquiry on Prayers for the Dead. Sordello. Italy.
VII. The Valley of Flowers. Negligent Princes.
VIII. The Guardian Angels and the Serpent. Nino di Gallura. The Three Stars. Currado Malaspina.
IX. Dante's Dream of the Eagle. The Gate of Purgatory and the Angel. Seven P's. The Keys.
X. The Needle's Eye. The First Circle: The Proud. The Sculptures on the Wall.
XI. The Humble Prayer. Omberto di Santafiore. Oderisi d' Agobbio. Provenzan Salvani.
XII. The Sculptures on the Pavement. Ascent to the Second Circle.
XIII. The Second Circle: The Envious. Sapia of Siena.
XIV. Guido del Duca and Renier da Calboli. Cities of the Arno Valley. Denunciation of Stubbornness.
XV. The Third Circle: The Irascible. Dante's Visions. The Smoke.
XVI. Marco Lombardo. Lament over the State of the World.
XVII. Dante's Dream of Anger. The Fourth Circle: The Slothful. Virgil's Discourse of Love.
XVIII. Virgil further discourses of Love and Free Will. The Abbot of San Zeno.
XIX. Dante's Dream of the Siren. The Fifth Circle: The Avaricious and Prodigal. Pope Adrian V.
XX. Hugh Capet. Corruption of the French Crown. Prophecy of the Abduction of Pope Boniface VIII and the Sacrilege of Philip the Fair. The Earthquake.
XXI. The Poet Statius. Praise of Virgil.
XXII. Statius' Denunciation of Avarice. The Sixth Circle: The Gluttonous. The Mystic Tree.
XXIII. Forese. Reproof of immodest Florentine Women.
XXIV. Buonagiunta da Lucca. Pope Martin IV, and others. Inquiry into the State of Poetry.
XXV. Discourse of Statius on Generation. The Seventh Circle: The Wanton.
XXVI. Sodomites. Guido Guinicelli and Arnaldo Daniello.
XXVII. The Wall of Fire and the Angel of God. Dante's Sleep upon the Stairway, and his Dream of Leah and Rachel. Arrival at the Terrestrial Paradise.
XXVIII. The River Lethe. Matilda. The Nature of the Terrestrial Paradise.
XXIX. The Triumph of the Church.
XXX. Virgil's Departure. Beatrice. Dante's Shame.
XXXI. Reproaches of Beatrice and Confession of Dante. The Passage of Lethe. The Seven Virtues. The Griffon.
XXXII. The Tree of Knowledge. Allegory of the Chariot.
XXXIII. Lament over the State of the Church. Final Reproaches of Beatrice. The River Eunoe. |
Purgatorio
Canto Links:
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Purgatorio: Canto I
To run o'er better waters hoists its sail The little vessel of my genius now, That leaves behind itself a sea so cruel;
And of that second kingdom will I sing Wherein the human spirit doth purge itself, And to ascend to heaven becometh worthy.
But let dead Poesy here rise again, O holy Muses, since that I am yours, And here Calliope somewhat ascend,
My song accompanying with that sound, Of which the miserable magpies felt The blow so great, that they despaired of pardon.
Sweet colour of the oriental sapphire, That was upgathered in the cloudless aspect Of the pure air, as far as the first circle,
Unto mine eyes did recommence delight Soon as I issued forth from the dead air, Which had with sadness filled mine eyes and breast.
The beauteous planet, that to love incites, Was making all the orient to laugh, Veiling the Fishes that were in her escort.
To the right hand I turned, and fixed my mind Upon the other pole, and saw four stars Ne'er seen before save by the primal people.
Rejoicing in their flamelets seemed the heaven. O thou septentrional and widowed site, Because thou art deprived of seeing these!
When from regarding them I had withdrawn, Turning a little to the other pole, There where the Wain had disappeared already,
I saw beside me an old man alone, Worthy of so much reverence in his look, That more owes not to father any son.
A long beard and with white hair intermingled He wore, in semblance like unto the tresses, Of which a double list fell on his breast.
The rays of the four consecrated stars Did so adorn his countenance with light, That him I saw as were the sun before him.
"Who are you? ye who, counter the blind river, Have fled away from the eternal prison?" Moving those venerable plumes, he said:
"Who guided you? or who has been your lamp In issuing forth out of the night profound, That ever black makes the infernal valley?
The laws of the abyss, are they thus broken? Or is there changed in heaven some council new, That being damned ye come unto my crags?"
Then did my Leader lay his grasp upon me, And with his words, and with his hands and signs, Reverent he made in me my knees and brow;
Then answered him: "I came not of myself; A Lady from Heaven descended, at whose prayers I aided this one with my company.
But since it is thy will more be unfolded Of our condition, how it truly is, Mine cannot be that this should be denied thee.
This one has never his last evening seen, But by his folly was so near to it That very little time was there to turn.
As I have said, I unto him was sent To rescue him, and other way was none Than this to which I have myself betaken.
I've shown him all the people of perdition, And now those spirits I intend to show Who purge themselves beneath thy guardianship.
How I have brought him would be long to tell thee. Virtue descendeth from on high that aids me To lead him to behold thee and to hear thee.
Now may it please thee to vouchsafe his coming; He seeketh Liberty, which is so dear, As knoweth he who life for her refuses.
Thou know'st it; since, for her, to thee not bitter Was death in Utica, where thou didst leave The vesture, that will shine so, the great day.
By us the eternal edicts are not broken; Since this one lives, and Minos binds not me; But of that circle I, where are the chaste
Eyes of thy Marcia, who in looks still prays thee, O holy breast, to hold her as thine own; For her love, then, incline thyself to us.
Permit us through thy sevenfold realm to go; I will take back this grace from thee to her, If to be mentioned there below thou deignest."
"Marcia so pleasing was unto mine eyes While I was on the other side," then said he, "That every grace she wished of me I granted;
Now that she dwells beyond the evil river, She can no longer move me, by that law Which, when I issued forth from there, was made.
But if a Lady of Heaven do move and rule thee, As thou dost say, no flattery is needful; Let it suffice thee that for her thou ask me.
Go, then, and see thou gird this one about With a smooth rush, and that thou wash his face, So that thou cleanse away all stain therefrom,
For 'twere not fitting that the eye o'ercast By any mist should go before the first Angel, who is of those of Paradise.
This little island round about its base Below there, yonder, where the billow beats it, Doth rushes bear upon its washy ooze;
No other plant that putteth forth the leaf, Or that doth indurate, can there have life, Because it yieldeth not unto the shocks.
Thereafter be not this way your return; The sun, which now is rising, will direct you To take the mount by easier ascent."
With this he vanished; and I raised me up Without a word, and wholly drew myself Unto my Guide, and turned mine eyes to him.
And he began: "Son, follow thou my steps; Let us turn back, for on this side declines The plain unto its lower boundaries."
The dawn was vanquishing the matin hour Which fled before it, so that from afar I recognised the trembling of the sea.
Along the solitary plain we went As one who unto the lost road returns, And till he finds it seems to go in vain.
As soon as we were come to where the dew Fights with the sun, and, being in a part Where shadow falls, little evaporates,
Both of his hands upon the grass outspread In gentle manner did my Master place; Whence I, who of his action was aware,
Extended unto him my tearful cheeks; There did he make in me uncovered wholly That hue which Hell had covered up in me.
Then came we down upon the desert shore Which never yet saw navigate its waters Any that afterward had known return.
There he begirt me as the other pleased; O marvellous! for even as he culled The humble plant, such it sprang up again
Suddenly there where he uprooted it.
Purgatorio: Canto II
Already had the sun the horizon reached Whose circle of meridian covers o'er Jerusalem with its most lofty point,
And night that opposite to him revolves Was issuing forth from Ganges with the Scales That fall from out her hand when she exceedeth;
So that the white and the vermilion cheeks Of beautiful Aurora, where I was, By too great age were changing into orange.
We still were on the border of the sea, Like people who are thinking of their road, Who go in heart and with the body stay;
And lo! as when, upon the approach of morning, Through the gross vapours Mars grows fiery red Down in the West upon the ocean floor,
Appeared to me--may I again behold it!-- A light along the sea so swiftly coming, Its motion by no flight of wing is equalled;
From which when I a little had withdrawn Mine eyes, that I might question my Conductor, Again I saw it brighter grown and larger.
Then on each side of it appeared to me I knew not what of white, and underneath it Little by little there came forth another.
My Master yet had uttered not a word While the first whiteness into wings unfolded; But when he clearly recognised the pilot,
He cried: "Make haste, make haste to bow the knee! Behold the Angel of God! fold thou thy hands! Henceforward shalt thou see such officers!
See how he scorneth human arguments, So that nor oar he wants, nor other sail Than his own wings, between so distant shores.
See how he holds them pointed up to heaven, Fanning the air with the eternal pinions, That do not moult themselves like mortal hair!"
Then as still nearer and more near us came The Bird Divine, more radiant he appeared, So that near by the eye could not endure him,
But down I cast it; and he came to shore With a small vessel, very swift and light, So that the water swallowed naught thereof.
Upon the stern stood the Celestial Pilot; Beatitude seemed written in his face, And more than a hundred spirits sat within.
"In exitu Israel de Aegypto!" They chanted all together in one voice, With whatso in that psalm is after written.
Then made he sign of holy rood upon them, Whereat all cast themselves upon the shore, And he departed swiftly as he came.
The throng which still remained there unfamiliar Seemed with the place, all round about them gazing, As one who in new matters makes essay.
On every side was darting forth the day. The sun, who had with his resplendent shafts From the mid-heaven chased forth the Capricorn,
When the new people lifted up their faces Towards us, saying to us: "If ye know, Show us the way to go unto the mountain."
And answer made Virgilius: "Ye believe Perchance that we have knowledge of this place, But we are strangers even as yourselves.
Just now we came, a little while before you, Another way, which was so rough and steep, That mounting will henceforth seem sport to us."
The souls who had, from seeing me draw breath, Become aware that I was still alive, Pallid in their astonishment became;
And as to messenger who bears the olive The people throng to listen to the news, And no one shows himself afraid of crowding,
So at the sight of me stood motionless Those fortunate spirits, all of them, as if Oblivious to go and make them fair.
One from among them saw I coming forward, As to embrace me, with such great affection, That it incited me to do the like.
O empty shadows, save in aspect only! Three times behind it did I clasp my hands, As oft returned with them to my own breast!
I think with wonder I depicted me; Whereat the shadow smiled and backward drew; And I, pursuing it, pressed farther forward.
Gently it said that I should stay my steps; Then knew I who it was, and I entreated That it would stop awhile to speak with me.
It made reply to me: "Even as I loved thee In mortal body, so I love thee free; Therefore I stop; but wherefore goest thou?"
"My own Casella! to return once more There where I am, I make this journey," said I; "But how from thee has so much time be taken?"
And he to me: "No outrage has been done me, If he who takes both when and whom he pleases Has many times denied to me this passage,
For of a righteous will his own is made. He, sooth to say, for three months past has taken Whoever wished to enter with all peace;
Whence I, who now had turned unto that shore Where salt the waters of the Tiber grow, Benignantly by him have been received.
Unto that outlet now his wing is pointed, Because for evermore assemble there Those who tow'rds Acheron do not descend."
And I: "If some new law take not from thee Memory or practice of the song of love, Which used to quiet in me all my longings,
Thee may it please to comfort therewithal Somewhat this soul of mine, that with its body Hitherward coming is so much distressed."
"Love, that within my mind discourses with me," Forthwith began he so melodiously, The melody within me still is sounding.
My Master, and myself, and all that people Which with him were, appeared as satisfied As if naught else might touch the mind of any.
We all of us were moveless and attentive Unto his notes; and lo! the grave old man, Exclaiming: "What is this, ye laggard spirits?
What negligence, what standing still is this? Run to the mountain to strip off the slough, That lets not God be manifest to you."
Even as when, collecting grain or tares, The doves, together at their pasture met, Quiet, nor showing their accustomed pride,
If aught appear of which they are afraid, Upon a sudden leave their food alone, Because they are assailed by greater care;
So that fresh company did I behold The song relinquish, and go tow'rds the hill, As one who goes, and knows not whitherward;
Nor was our own departure less in haste.
Purgatorio: Canto III
Inasmuch as the instantaneous flight Had scattered them asunder o'er the plain, Turned to the mountain whither reason spurs us,
I pressed me close unto my faithful comrade, And how without him had I kept my course? Who would have led me up along the mountain?
He seemed to me within himself remorseful; O noble conscience, and without a stain, How sharp a sting is trivial fault to thee!
After his feet had laid aside the haste Which mars the dignity of every act, My mind, that hitherto had been restrained,
Let loose its faculties as if delighted, And I my sight directed to the hill That highest tow'rds the heaven uplifts itself.
The sun, that in our rear was flaming red, Was broken in front of me into the figure Which had in me the stoppage of its rays;
Unto one side I turned me, with the fear Of being left alone, when I beheld Only in front of me the ground obscured.
"Why dost thou still mistrust?" my Comforter Began to say to me turned wholly round; "Dost thou not think me with thee, and that I guide thee?
'Tis evening there already where is buried The body within which I cast a shadow; 'Tis from Brundusium ta'en, and Naples has it.
Now if in front of me no shadow fall, Marvel not at it more than at the heavens, Because one ray impedeth not another
To suffer torments, both of cold and heat, Bodies like this that Power provides, which wills That how it works be not unveiled to us.
Insane is he who hopeth that our reason Can traverse the illimitable way, Which the one Substance in three Persons follows!
Mortals, remain contented at the 'Quia;' For if ye had been able to see all, No need there were for Mary to give birth;
And ye have seen desiring without fruit, Those whose desire would have been quieted, Which evermore is given them for a grief.
I speak of Aristotle and of Plato, And many others;"--and here bowed his head, And more he said not, and remained disturbed.
We came meanwhile unto the mountain's foot; There so precipitate we found the rock, That nimble legs would there have been in vain.
'Twixt Lerici and Turbia, the most desert, The most secluded pathway is a stair Easy and open, if compared with that.
"Who knoweth now upon which hand the hill Slopes down," my Master said, his footsteps staying, "So that who goeth without wings may mount?"
And while he held his eyes upon the ground Examining the nature of the path, And I was looking up around the rock,
On the left hand appeared to me a throng Of souls, that moved their feet in our direction, And did not seem to move, they came so slowly.
"Lift up thine eyes," I to the Master said; "Behold, on this side, who will give us counsel, If thou of thine own self can have it not."
Then he looked at me, and with frank expression Replied: "Let us go there, for they come slowly, And thou be steadfast in thy hope, sweet son."
Still was that people as far off from us, After a thousand steps of ours I say, As a good thrower with his hand would reach,
When they all crowded unto the hard masses Of the high bank, and motionless stood and close, As he stands still to look who goes in doubt.
"O happy dead! O spirits elect already!" Virgilius made beginning, "by that peace Which I believe is waiting for you all,
Tell us upon what side the mountain slopes, So that the going up be possible, For to lose time irks him most who most knows."
As sheep come issuing forth from out the fold By ones and twos and threes, and the others stand Timidly, holding down their eyes and nostrils,
And what the foremost does the others do, Huddling themselves against her, if she stop, Simple and quiet and the wherefore know not;
So moving to approach us thereupon I saw the leader of that fortunate flock, Modest in face and dignified in gait.
As soon as those in the advance saw broken The light upon the ground at my right side, So that from me the shadow reached the rock,
They stopped, and backward drew themselves somewhat; And all the others, who came after them, Not knowing why nor wherefore, did the same.
"Without your asking, I confess to you This is a human body which you see, Whereby the sunshine on the ground is cleft.
Marvel ye not thereat, but be persuaded That not without a power which comes from Heaven Doth he endeavour to surmount this wall."
The Master thus; and said those worthy people: "Return ye then, and enter in before us," Making a signal with the back o' the hand
And one of them began: "Whoe'er thou art, Thus going turn thine eyes, consider well If e'er thou saw me in the other world."
I turned me tow'rds him, and looked at him closely; Blond was he, beautiful, and of noble aspect, But one of his eyebrows had a blow divided.
When with humility I had disclaimed E'er having seen him, "Now behold!" he said, And showed me high upon his breast a wound.
Then said he with a smile: "I am Manfredi, The grandson of the Empress Costanza; Therefore, when thou returnest, I beseech thee
Go to my daughter beautiful, the mother Of Sicily's honour and of Aragon's, And the truth tell her, if aught else be told.
After I had my body lacerated By these two mortal stabs, I gave myself Weeping to Him, who willingly doth pardon.
Horrible my iniquities had been; But Infinite Goodness hath such ample arms, That it receives whatever turns to it.
Had but Cosenza's pastor, who in chase Of me was sent by Clement at that time, In God read understandingly this page,
The bones of my dead body still would be At the bridge-head, near unto Benevento, Under the safeguard of the heavy cairn.
Now the rain bathes and moveth them the wind, Beyond the realm, almost beside the Verde, Where he transported them with tapers quenched.
By malison of theirs is not so lost Eternal Love, that it cannot return, So long as hope has anything of green.
True is it, who in contumacy dies Of Holy Church, though penitent at last, Must wait upon the outside this bank
Thirty times told the time that he has been In his presumption, unless such decree Shorter by means of righteous prayers become.
See now if thou hast power to make me happy, By making known unto my good Costanza How thou hast seen me, and this ban beside,
For those on earth can much advance us here."
Purgatorio: Canto IV
Whenever by delight or else by pain, That seizes any faculty of ours, Wholly to that the soul collects itself,
It seemeth that no other power it heeds; And this against that error is which thinks One soul above another kindles in us.
And hence, whenever aught is heard or seen Which keeps the soul intently bent upon it, Time passes on, and we perceive it not,
Because one faculty is that which listens, And other that which the soul keeps entire; This is as if in bonds, and that is free.
Of this I had experience positive In hearing and in gazing at that spirit; For fifty full degrees uprisen was
The sun, and I had not perceived it, when We came to where those souls with one accord Cried out unto us: "Here is what you ask."
A greater opening ofttimes hedges up With but a little forkful of his thorns The villager, what time the grape imbrowns,
Than was the passage-way through which ascended Only my Leader and myself behind him, After that company departed from us.
One climbs Sanleo and descends in Noli, And mounts the summit of Bismantova, With feet alone; but here one needs must fly;
With the swift pinions and the plumes I say Of great desire, conducted after him Who gave me hope, and made a light for me.
We mounted upward through the rifted rock, And on each side the border pressed upon us, And feet and hands the ground beneath required.
When we were come upon the upper rim Of the high bank, out on the open slope, "My Master," said I, "what way shall we take?"
And he to me: "No step of thine descend; Still up the mount behind me win thy way, Till some sage escort shall appear to us."
The summit was so high it vanquished sight, And the hillside precipitous far more Than line from middle quadrant to the centre.
Spent with fatigue was I, when I began: "O my sweet Father! turn thee and behold How I remain alone, unless thou stay!"
"O son," he said, "up yonder drag thyself," Pointing me to a terrace somewhat higher, Which on that side encircles all the hill.
These words of his so spurred me on, that I Strained every nerve, behind him scrambling up, Until the circle was beneath my feet.
Thereon ourselves we seated both of us Turned to the East, from which we had ascended, For all men are delighted to look back.
To the low shores mine eyes I first directed, Then to the sun uplifted them, and wondered That on the left hand we were smitten by it.
The Poet well perceived that I was wholly Bewildered at the chariot of the light, Where 'twixt us and the Aquilon it entered.
Whereon he said to me: "If Castor and Pollux Were in the company of yonder mirror, That up and down conducteth with its light,
Thou wouldst behold the zodiac's jagged wheel Revolving still more near unto the Bears, Unless it swerved aside from its old track.
How that may be wouldst thou have power to think, Collected in thyself, imagine Zion Together with this mount on earth to stand,
So that they both one sole horizon have, And hemispheres diverse; whereby the road Which Phaeton, alas! knew not to drive,
Thou'lt see how of necessity must pass This on one side, when that upon the other, If thine intelligence right clearly heed."
"Truly, my Master," said I, "never yet Saw I so clearly as I now discern, There where my wit appeared incompetent,
That the mid-circle of supernal motion, Which in some art is the Equator called, And aye remains between the Sun and Winter,
For reason which thou sayest, departeth hence Tow'rds the Septentrion, what time the Hebrews Beheld it tow'rds the region of the heat.
But, if it pleaseth thee, I fain would learn How far we have to go; for the hill rises Higher than eyes of mine have power to rise."
And he to me: "This mount is such, that ever At the beginning down below 'tis tiresome, And aye the more one climbs, the less it hurts.
Therefore, when it shall seem so pleasant to thee, That going up shall be to thee as easy As going down the current in a boat,
Then at this pathway's ending thou wilt be; There to repose thy panting breath expect; No more I answer; and this I know for true."
And as he finished uttering these words, A voice close by us sounded: "Peradventure Thou wilt have need of sitting down ere that."
At sound thereof each one of us turned round, And saw upon the left hand a great rock, Which neither I nor he before had noticed.
Thither we drew; and there were persons there Who in the shadow stood behind the rock, As one through indolence is wont to stand.
And one of them, who seemed to me fatigued, Was sitting down, and both his knees embraced, Holding his face low down between them bowed.
"O my sweet Lord," I said, "do turn thine eye On him who shows himself more negligent Then even Sloth herself his sister were."
Then he turned round to us, and he gave heed, Just lifting up his eyes above his thigh, And said: "Now go thou up, for thou art valiant."
Then knew I who he was; and the distress, That still a little did my breathing quicken, My going to him hindered not; and after
I came to him he hardly raised his head, Saying: "Hast thou seen clearly how the sun O'er thy left shoulder drives his chariot?"
His sluggish attitude and his curt words A little unto laughter moved my lips; Then I began: "Belacqua, I grieve not
For thee henceforth; but tell me, wherefore seated In this place art thou? Waitest thou an escort? Or has thy usual habit seized upon thee?"
And he: "O brother, what's the use of climbing? Since to my torment would not let me go The Angel of God, who sitteth at the gate.
First heaven must needs so long revolve me round Outside thereof, as in my life it did, Since the good sighs I to the end postponed,
Unless, e'er that, some prayer may bring me aid Which rises from a heart that lives in grace; What profit others that in heaven are heard not?"
Meanwhile the Poet was before me mounting, And saying: "Come now; see the sun has touched Meridian, and from the shore the night
Covers already with her foot Morocco."
Purgatorio: Canto V
I had already from those shades departed, And followed in the footsteps of my Guide, When from behind, pointing his finger at me,
One shouted: "See, it seems as if shone not The sunshine on the left of him below, And like one living seems he to conduct him."
Mine eyes I turned at utterance of these words, And saw them watching with astonishment But me, but me, and the light which was broken!
"Why doth thy mind so occupy itself," The Master said, "that thou thy pace dost slacken? What matters it to thee what here is whispered?
Come after me, and let the people talk; Stand like a steadfast tower, that never wags Its top for all the blowing of the winds;
For evermore the man in whom is springing Thought upon thought, removes from him the mark, Because the force of one the other weakens."
What could I say in answer but "I come"? I said it somewhat with that colour tinged Which makes a man of pardon sometimes worthy.
Meanwhile along the mountain-side across Came people in advance of us a little, Singing the Miserere verse by verse.
When they became aware I gave no place For passage of the sunshine through my body, They changed their song into a long, hoarse "Oh!"
And two of them, in form of messengers, Ran forth to meet us, and demanded of us, "Of your condition make us cognisant."
And said my Master: "Ye can go your way And carry back again to those who sent you, That this one's body is of very flesh.
If they stood still because they saw his shadow, As I suppose, enough is answered them; Him let them honour, it may profit them."
Vapours enkindled saw I ne'er so swiftly At early nightfall cleave the air serene, Nor, at the set of sun, the clouds of August,
But upward they returned in briefer time, And, on arriving, with the others wheeled Tow'rds us, like troops that run without a rein.
"This folk that presses unto us is great, And cometh to implore thee," said the Poet; "So still go onward, and in going listen."
"O soul that goest to beatitude With the same members wherewith thou wast born," Shouting they came, "a little stay thy steps,
Look, if thou e'er hast any of us seen, So that o'er yonder thou bear news of him; Ah, why dost thou go on? Ah, why not stay?
Long since we all were slain by violence, And sinners even to the latest hour; Then did a light from heaven admonish us,
So that, both penitent and pardoning, forth From life we issued reconciled to God, Who with desire to see Him stirs our hearts."
And I: "Although I gaze into your faces, No one I recognize; but if may please you Aught I have power to do, ye well-born spirits,
Speak ye, and I will do it, by that peace Which, following the feet of such a Guide, From world to world makes itself sought by me."
And one began: "Each one has confidence In thy good offices without an oath, Unless the I cannot cut off the I will;
Whence I, who speak alone before the others, Pray thee, if ever thou dost see the land That 'twixt Romagna lies and that of Charles,
Thou be so courteous to me of thy prayers In Fano, that they pray for me devoutly, That I may purge away my grave offences.
From thence was I; but the deep wounds, through which Issued the blood wherein I had my seat, Were dealt me in bosom of the Antenori,
There where I thought to be the most secure; 'Twas he of Este had it done, who held me In hatred far beyond what justice willed.
But if towards the Mira I had fled, When I was overtaken at Oriaco, I still should be o'er yonder where men breathe.
I ran to the lagoon, and reeds and mire Did so entangle me I fell, and saw there A lake made from my veins upon the ground."
Then said another: "Ah, be that desire Fulfilled that draws thee to the lofty mountain, As thou with pious pity aidest mine.
I was of Montefeltro, and am Buonconte; Giovanna, nor none other cares for me; Hence among these I go with downcast front."
And I to him: "What violence or what chance Led thee astray so far from Campaldino, That never has thy sepulture been known?"
"Oh," he replied, "at Casentino's foot A river crosses named Archiano, born Above the Hermitage in Apennine.
There where the name thereof becometh void Did I arrive, pierced through and through the throat, Fleeing on foot, and bloodying the plain;
There my sight lost I, and my utterance Ceased in the name of Mary, and thereat I fell, and tenantless my flesh remained.
Truth will I speak, repeat it to the living; God's Angel took me up, and he of hell Shouted: 'O thou from heaven, why dost thou rob me?
Thou bearest away the eternal part of him, For one poor little tear, that takes him from me; But with the rest I'll deal in other fashion!'
Well knowest thou how in the air is gathered That humid vapour which to water turns, Soon as it rises where the cold doth grasp it.
He joined that evil will, which aye seeks evil, To intellect, and moved the mist and wind By means of power, which his own nature gave;
Thereafter, when the day was spent, the valley From Pratomagno to the great yoke covered With fog, and made the heaven above intent,
So that the pregnant air to water changed; Down fell the rain, and to the gullies came Whate'er of it earth tolerated not;
And as it mingled with the mighty torrents, Towards the royal river with such speed It headlong rushed, that nothing held it back.
My frozen body near unto its outlet The robust Archian found, and into Arno Thrust it, and loosened from my breast the cross
I made of me, when agony o'ercame me; It rolled me on the banks and on the bottom, Then with its booty covered and begirt me."
"Ah, when thou hast returned unto the world, And rested thee from thy long journeying," After the second followed the third spirit,
"Do thou remember me who am the Pia; Siena made me, unmade me Maremma; He knoweth it, who had encircled first,
Espousing me, my finger with his gem."
Purgatorio: Canto VI
Whene'er is broken up the game of Zara, He who has lost remains behind despondent, The throws repeating, and in sadness learns;
The people with the other all depart; One goes in front, and one behind doth pluck him, And at his side one brings himself to mind;
He pauses not, and this and that one hears; They crowd no more to whom his hand he stretches, And from the throng he thus defends himself.
Even such was I in that dense multitude, Turning to them this way and that my face, And, promising, I freed myself therefrom.
There was the Aretine, who from the arms Untamed of Ghin di Tacco had his death, And he who fleeing from pursuit was drowned.
There was imploring with his hands outstretched Frederick Novello, and that one of Pisa Who made the good Marzucco seem so strong.
I saw Count Orso; and the soul divided By hatred and by envy from its body, As it declared, and not for crime committed,
Pierre de la Brosse I say; and here provide While still on earth the Lady of Brabant, So that for this she be of no worse flock!
As soon as I was free from all those shades Who only prayed that some one else may pray, So as to hasten their becoming holy,
Began I: "It appears that thou deniest, O light of mine, expressly in some text, That orison can bend decree of Heaven;
And ne'ertheless these people pray for this. Might then their expectation bootless be? Or is to me thy saying not quite clear?"
And he to me: "My writing is explicit, And not fallacious is the hope of these, If with sane intellect 'tis well regarded;
For top of judgment doth not vail itself, Because the fire of love fulfils at once What he must satisfy who here installs him.
And there, where I affirmed that proposition, Defect was not amended by a prayer, Because the prayer from God was separate.
Verily, in so deep a questioning Do not decide, unless she tell it thee, Who light 'twixt truth and intellect shall be.
I know not if thou understand; I speak Of Beatrice; her shalt thou see above, Smiling and happy, on this mountain's top."
And I: "Good Leader, let us make more haste, For I no longer tire me as before; And see, e'en now the hill a shadow casts."
"We will go forward with this day" he answered, "As far as now is possible for us; But otherwise the fact is than thou thinkest.
Ere thou art up there, thou shalt see return Him, who now hides himself behind the hill, So that thou dost not interrupt his rays.
But yonder there behold! a soul that stationed All, all alone is looking hitherward; It will point out to us the quickest way."
We came up unto it; O Lombard soul, How lofty and disdainful thou didst bear thee, And grand and slow in moving of thine eyes!
Nothing whatever did it say to us, But let us go our way, eying us only After the manner of a couchant lion;
Still near to it Virgilius drew, entreating That it would point us out the best ascent; And it replied not unto his demand,
But of our native land and of our life It questioned us; and the sweet Guide began: "Mantua,"--and the shade, all in itself recluse,
Rose tow'rds him from the place where first it was, Saying: "O Mantuan, I am Sordello Of thine own land!" and one embraced the other.
Ah! servile Italy, grief's hostelry! A ship without a pilot in great tempest! No Lady thou of Provinces, but brothel!
That noble soul was so impatient, only At the sweet sound of his own native land, To make its citizen glad welcome there;
And now within thee are not without war Thy living ones, and one doth gnaw the other Of those whom one wall and one fosse shut in!
Search, wretched one, all round about the shores Thy seaboard, and then look within thy bosom, If any part of thee enjoyeth peace!
What boots it, that for thee Justinian The bridle mend, if empty be the saddle? Withouten this the shame would be the less.
Ah! people, thou that oughtest to be devout, And to let Caesar sit upon the saddle, If well thou hearest what God teacheth thee,
Behold how fell this wild beast has become, Being no longer by the spur corrected, Since thou hast laid thy hand upon the bridle.
O German Albert! who abandonest Her that has grown recalcitrant and savage, And oughtest to bestride her saddle-bow,
May a just judgment from the stars down fall Upon thy blood, and be it new and open, That thy successor may have fear thereof;
Because thy father and thyself have suffered, By greed of those transalpine lands distrained, The garden of the empire to be waste.
Come and behold Montecchi and Cappelletti, Monaldi and Fillippeschi, careless man! Those sad already, and these doubt-depressed!
Come, cruel one! come and behold the oppression Of thy nobility, and cure their wounds, And thou shalt see how safe is Santafiore!
Come and behold thy Rome, that is lamenting, Widowed, alone, and day and night exclaims, "My Caesar, why hast thou forsaken me?"
Come and behold how loving are the people; And if for us no pity moveth thee, Come and be made ashamed of thy renown!
And if it lawful be, O Jove Supreme! Who upon earth for us wast crucified, Are thy just eyes averted otherwhere?
Or preparation is 't, that, in the abyss Of thine own counsel, for some good thou makest From our perception utterly cut off?
For all the towns of Italy are full Of tyrants, and becometh a Marcellus Each peasant churl who plays the partisan!
My Florence! well mayst thou contented be With this digression, which concerns thee not, Thanks to thy people who such forethought take!
Many at heart have justice, but shoot slowly, That unadvised they come not to the bow, But on their very lips thy people have it!
Many refuse to bear the common burden; But thy solicitous people answereth Without being asked, and crieth: "I submit."
Now be thou joyful, for thou hast good reason; Thou affluent, thou in peace, thou full of wisdom! If I speak true, the event conceals it not.
Athens and Lacedaemon, they who made The ancient laws, and were so civilized, Made towards living well a little sign
Compared with thee, who makest such fine-spun Provisions, that to middle of November Reaches not what thou in October spinnest.
How oft, within the time of thy remembrance, Laws, money, offices, and usages Hast thou remodelled, and renewed thy members?
And if thou mind thee well, and see the light, Thou shalt behold thyself like a sick woman, Who cannot find repose upon her down,
But by her tossing wardeth off her pain.
Purgatorio: Canto VII
After the gracious and glad salutations Had three and four times been reiterated, Sordello backward drew and said, "Who are you?"
"Or ever to this mountain were directed The souls deserving to ascend to God, My bones were buried by Octavian.
I am Virgilius; and for no crime else Did I lose heaven, than for not having faith;" In this wise then my Leader made reply.
As one who suddenly before him sees Something whereat he marvels, who believes And yet does not, saying, "It is! it is not!"
So he appeared; and then bowed down his brow, And with humility returned towards him, And, where inferiors embrace, embraced him.
"O glory of the Latians, thou," he said, "Through whom our language showed what it could do O pride eternal of the place I came from,
What merit or what grace to me reveals thee? If I to hear thy words be worthy, tell me If thou dost come from Hell, and from what cloister."
"Through all the circles of the doleful realm," Responded he, "have I come hitherward; Heaven's power impelled me, and with that I come.
I by not doing, not by doing, lost The sight of that high sun which thou desirest, And which too late by me was recognized.
A place there is below not sad with torments, But darkness only, where the lamentations Have not the sound of wailing, but are sighs.
There dwell I with the little innocents Snatched by the teeth of Death, or ever they Were from our human sinfulness exempt.
There dwell I among those who the three saintly Virtues did not put on, and without vice The others knew and followed all of them.
But if thou know and can, some indication Give us by which we may the sooner come Where Purgatory has its right beginning."
He answered: "No fixed place has been assigned us; 'Tis lawful for me to go up and round; So far as I can go, as guide I join thee.
But see already how the day declines, And to go up by night we are not able; Therefore 'tis well to think of some fair sojourn.
Souls are there on the right hand here withdrawn; If thou permit me I will lead thee to them, And thou shalt know them not without delight."
"How is this?" was the answer; "should one wish To mount by night would he prevented be By others? or mayhap would not have power?"
And on the ground the good Sordello drew His finger, saying, "See, this line alone Thou couldst not pass after the sun is gone;
Not that aught else would hindrance give, however, To going up, save the nocturnal darkness; This with the want of power the will perplexes.
We might indeed therewith return below, And, wandering, walk the hill-side round about, While the horizon holds the day imprisoned."
Thereon my Lord, as if in wonder, said: "Do thou conduct us thither, where thou sayest That we can take delight in tarrying."
Little had we withdrawn us from that place, When I perceived the mount was hollowed out In fashion as the valleys here are hollowed.
"Thitherward," said that shade, "will we repair, Where of itself the hill-side makes a lap, And there for the new day will we await."
'Twixt hill and plain there was a winding path Which led us to the margin of that dell, Where dies the border more than half away.
Gold and fine silver, and scarlet and pearl-white, The Indian wood resplendent and serene, Fresh emerald the moment it is broken,
By herbage and by flowers within that hollow Planted, each one in colour would be vanquished, As by its greater vanquished is the less.
Nor in that place had nature painted only, But of the sweetness of a thousand odours Made there a mingled fragrance and unknown.
"Salve Regina," on the green and flowers There seated, singing, spirits I beheld, Which were not visible outside the valley.
"Before the scanty sun now seeks his nest," Began the Mantuan who had led us thither, "Among them do not wish me to conduct you.
Better from off this ledge the acts and faces Of all of them will you discriminate, Than in the plain below received among them.
He who sits highest, and the semblance bears Of having what he should have done neglected, And to the others' song moves not his lips,
Rudolph the Emperor was, who had the power To heal the wounds that Italy have slain, So that through others slowly she revives.
The other, who in look doth comfort him, Governed the region where the water springs, The Moldau bears the Elbe, and Elbe the sea.
His name was Ottocar; and in swaddling-clothes Far better he than bearded Winceslaus His son, who feeds in luxury and ease.
And the small-nosed, who close in council seems With him that has an aspect so benign, Died fleeing and disflowering the lily;
Look there, how he is beating at his breast! Behold the other one, who for his cheek Sighing has made of his own palm a bed;
Father and father-in-law of France's Pest Are they, and know his vicious life and lewd, And hence proceeds the grief that so doth pierce them.
He who appears so stalwart, and chimes in, Singing, with that one of the manly nose, The cord of every valour wore begirt;
And if as King had after him remained The stripling who in rear of him is sitting, Well had the valour passed from vase to vase,
Which cannot of the other heirs be said. Frederick and Jacomo possess the realms, But none the better heritage possesses.
Not oftentimes upriseth through the branches The probity of man; and this He wills Who gives it, so that we may ask of Him.
Eke to the large-nosed reach my words, no less Than to the other, Pier, who with him sings; Whence Provence and Apulia grieve already
The plant is as inferior to its seed, As more than Beatrice and Margaret Costanza boasteth of her husband still.
Behold the monarch of the simple life, Harry of England, sitting there alone; He in his branches has a better issue.
He who the lowest on the ground among them Sits looking upward, is the Marquis William, For whose sake Alessandria and her war
Make Monferrat and Canavese weep."
Purgatorio: Canto VIII
'Twas now the hour that turneth back desire In those who sail the sea, and melts the heart, The day they've said to their sweet friends farewell,
And the new pilgrim penetrates with love, If he doth hear from far away a bell That seemeth to deplore the dying day,
When I began to make of no avail My hearing, and to watch one of the souls Uprisen, that begged attention with its hand.
It joined and lifted upward both its palms, Fixing its eyes upon the orient, As if it said to God, "Naught else I care for."
"Te lucis ante" so devoutly issued Forth from its mouth, and with such dulcet notes, It made me issue forth from my own mind.
And then the others, sweetly and devoutly, Accompanied it through all the hymn entire, Having their eyes on the supernal wheels.
Here, Reader, fix thine eyes well on the truth, For now indeed so subtile is the veil, Surely to penetrate within is easy.
I saw that army of the gentle-born Thereafterward in silence upward gaze, As if in expectation, pale and humble;
And from on high come forth and down descend, I saw two Angels with two flaming swords, Truncated and deprived of their points.
Green as the little leaflets just now born Their garments were, which, by their verdant pinions Beaten and blown abroad, they trailed behind.
One just above us came to take his station, And one descended to the opposite bank, So that the people were contained between them.
Clearly in them discerned I the blond head; But in their faces was the eye bewildered, As faculty confounded by excess.
"From Mary's bosom both of them have come," Sordello said, "as guardians of the valley Against the serpent, that will come anon."
Whereupon I, who knew not by what road, Turned round about, and closely drew myself, Utterly frozen, to the faithful shoulders.
And once again Sordello: "Now descend we 'Mid the grand shades, and we will speak to them; Right pleasant will it be for them to see you."
Only three steps I think that I descended, And was below, and saw one who was looking Only at me, as if he fain would know me.
Already now the air was growing dark, But not so that between his eyes and mine It did not show what it before locked up.
Tow'rds me he moved, and I tow'rds him did move; Noble Judge Nino! how it me delighted, When I beheld thee not among the damned!
No greeting fair was left unsaid between us; Then asked he: "How long is it since thou camest O'er the far waters to the mountain's foot?"
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