Part 8

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.