Part 7

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.