Canto XIX   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—They come to the third gulf, wherein are punished those who have been guilty of simony. These are fixed with the head downward in certain apertures, so that no more of them than the legs appears without, and on the soles of their feet are seen burning flames. Dante is taken down by his guide into the bottom of the gulf; and there finds Pope Nicholas V, whose evil deeds, together with those of other pontiffs, are bitterly reprehended. Virgil then carries him up again to the arch, which affords them a passage over the following gulf.   
    
    
WOE to thee, Simon Magus! woe to you,      
His wretched followers! who the things of God,      
Which should be wedded unto goodness, them,      
Rapacious as ye are, do prostitute      
For gold and silver in adultery.           5   
Now must the trumpet sound for you, since yours      
Is the third chasm. Upon the following vault      
We now had mounted, where the rock impends      
Directly o’er the centre of the foss.      
  Wisdom Supreme! how wonderful the art,           10   
Which Thou dost manifest in Heaven, in earth,      
And in the evil world, how just a meed      
Allotting by Thy virtue unto all.      
  I saw the livid stone, throughout the sides      
And in its bottom full of apertures,           15   
All equal in their width, and circular each.      
Nor ample less nor larger they appear’d      
Than, in Saint John’s fair dome 1 of me beloved,      
Those framed to hold the pure baptismal streams,      
One of the which I brake, some few years past,           20   
To save a whelming infant: and be this      
A seal to undeceive whoever doubts      
The motive of my deed. From out the mouth      
Of every one emerged a sinner’s feet,      
And of the legs high upward as the calf.           25   
The rest beneath was hid. On either foot      
The soles were burning; whence the flexile joints      
Glanced with such violent motion, as had snapt      
Asunder cords or twisted withes. As flame,      
Feeding on unctuous matter, glides along           30   
The surface, scarcely touching where it moves;      
So here, from heel to point, glided the flames.      
  “Master! say who is he, than all the rest      
Glancing in fiercer agony, on whom      
A ruddier flame doth prey?” I thus inquired.           35   
  “If thou be willing,” he replied. “that I      
Carry thee down, where least the slope bank falls,      
He of himself shall tell thee, and his wrongs.”      
  I then: “As pleases thee, to me is best.      
Thou art my lord; and know’st that ne’er I quit           40   
Thy will: what silence hides, that knowest thou.”      
  Thereat on the fourth pier we came, we turn’d      
And on our left descended to the depth,      
A narrow strait, and perforated close.      
Nor from his side my leader set me down,           45   
Till to his orifice he brought, whose limb      
Quivering express’d his pang. “Whoe’er thou art,      
Sad spirit! thus reversed, and as a stake      
Driven in the soil,”—I in these words began;      
“If thou be able, utter forth thy voice.”           50   
  There stood I like the friar, that doth shrive      
A wretch for murder doom’d, who, e’en when fix’d,      
Calleth him back, whence death awhile delays.      
  He shouted: “Ha! already standest there?      
Already standest there, O Boniface! 2           55   
By many a year the writing play’d me false.      
So early dost thou surfeit with the wealth,      
For which thou fearedst not in guile to take      
The lovely lady, and then mangle her?”      
  I felt as those who, piercing not the drift           60   
Of answer made them, stand as if exposed      
In mockery, nor know what to reply;      
When Virgil thus admonish’d: “Tell him quick,      
‘I am not he, not he whom thou believest.’”      
  And I, as was enjoin’d me, straight replied.           65   
  That heard, the spirit all did wrench his feet,      
And, sighing, next in woeful accent spake:      
“What then of me requirest? If to know      
So much imports thee, who I am, that thou      
Hast therefore down the bank descended, learn           70   
That in the mighty mantle I was robed, 3      
And of a she-bear was indeed the son,      
So eager to advance my whelps, that there      
My having in my purse above I stow’d,      
And here myself. Under my head are dragg’d           75   
The rest, my predecessors in the guilt      
Of simony. Stretch’d at their length, they lie      
Along an opening in the rock. ’Midst them      
I also low shall fall, soon as he comes,      
For whom I took thee, when so hastily           80   
I question’d. But already longer time      
Hath past, since my soles kindled, and I thus      
Upturn’d have stood, than is his doom to stand      
Planted with fiery feet. For after him,      
One yet of deeds more ugly shall arrive,           85   
From forth the west, a shepherd without law, 4      
Fated a cover both his form and mine.      
He a new Jason 5 shall be call’d, of whom      
In Maccabees we read; and favor such      
As to that priest his King indulgent show’d,           90   
Shall be of France’s monarch 6 shown to him.”      
  I know not if I here too far presumed,      
But in this strain I answer’d: “Tell me now      
What treasures from Saint Peter at the first      
Our Lord demanded, when he put the keys           95   
Into his charge? Surely he ask’d no more      
But ‘Follow me!’ Nor Peter, 7 nor the rest,      
Or gold or silver of Matthias took,      
When lots were cast upon the forfeit place      
Of the condemned soul. 8 Abide thou then;           100   
Thy punishment of right is merited:      
And look thou well to that ill-gotten coin,      
Which against Charles 9 thy hardihood inspired.      
If reverence of the keys restrain’d me not,      
Which thou in happier time didst hold, I yet           105   
Severer speech might use. Your avarice      
O’ercasts the world with mourning, under foot      
Treading the good, and raising bad men up.      
Of shepherds like to you, the Evangelist      
Was ware, when her, who sits upon the waves,           110   
With kings in filthy whoredom he beheld;      
She who with seven heads tower’d at her birth,      
And from ten horns her proof of glory drew,      
Long as her spouse in virtue took delight.      
Of gold and silver ye have made your god,           115   
Differing wherein from the idolater,      
But that he worships one, a hundred ye?      
Ah, Constantine! 10 to how much ill gave birth,      
Not thy conversion, but that plenteous dower,      
Which the first wealthy Father gain’d from thee.”           120   
  Meanwhile, as thus I sung, he, whether wrath      
Or conscience smote him, violent upsprang      
Spinning on either sole. I do believe      
My teacher well was pleased, with so composed      
A lip he listen’d ever to the sound           125   
Of the true words I utter’d. In both arms      
He caught, and, to his bosom lifting me,      
Upward retraced the way of his descent.      
  Nor weary of his weight, he press’d me close,      
Till to the summit of the rock we came,           130   
Our passage from the fourth to the fifth pier.      
His cherish’d burden there gently he placed      
Upon the rugged rock and steep, a path      
Not easy for the clambering goat to mount.      
  Thence to my view another vale appear’d.           135   
    
Note 1. The apertures in the rock were of the same dimensions as the fonts of St. John the Baptist at Florence, one of which Dante had broken to rescue a child that was playing near and fell in. He intimates that his motive for breaking the font had been maliciously represented by his enemies. [back]   
Note 2. The spirit mistakes Dante for Boniface VIII (who was then alive, and not expected to arrive so soon, a prophecy predicting the death of that pope at a later period. Boniface died in 1303. [back]   
Note 3. Nicholas III of the Orsini family, whom the Poet therefore calls “figliuol dell’ orsa,” “son of the she-bear.” He died in 1281. [back]   
Note 4. Bertrand de Got, Archbishop of Bordeaux, who succeeded to the pontificate in 1305, as Clement V. He transferred the Holy See to Avignon in 1308 (where it remained till 1376), and died in 1314. [back]   
Note 5. “But after the death of Seleucus, when Antiochus, called Epiphanes, took the kingdom, Jason, the brother of Onias, labored to be high-priest, promising unto the king, by intercession, three hundred and threescore talents of silver, and of another revenue eighty talents.”—Maccab. b. ii. ch. iv, 7,8. [back]   
Note 6. Philip IV. See G. Villani, lib. viii. c. lxxx. [back]   
Note 7. Acts of the Apostles, ch. i. 26. [back]   
Note 8. “The condemned soul.” Judas. [back]   
Note 9. Nicholas III was enraged against Charles I, King of Sicily, because he rejected with scorn his proposition for an alliance between their families. See G. Villani, Hist., lib. iii. [back]   
Note 10. He alludes to the pretended gift of the Lateran by Constantine to Sylvester, of which Dante himself seems to imply a doubt, in his treatise “De Monarchâ.”

   
Canto XX   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—The Poet relates the punishment of such as presumed, while living, to predict future events. It is to have their faces reversed and set the contrary way on their limbs, so that, being deprived of the power to see before them, they are constrained ever to walk backward. Among these Virgil points out to him Amphiaraüs, Tiresias, Aruns, and Manto (from the mention of whom he takes occasion to speak of the origin of Mantua), together with several others, who had practised the arts of divination and astrology.   
    
    
AND now the verse proceeds to torments new,      
Fit argument of this the twentieth strain      
Of the first song, whose awful theme records      
The spirits whelm’d in woe. Earnest I look’d      
Into the depth, that open’d to my view,           5   
Moisten’d with tears of anguish, and beheld      
A tribe, that came along the hollow vale,      
In silence weeping: such their step as walk      
Quires, chanting solemn litanies, on earth.      
  As on them more direct mine eye descends,           10   
Each wonderously seem’d to be reversed      
At the neck-bone, so that the countenance      
Was from the reins averted; and because      
None might before him look, they were compell’d      
To advance with backward gait. Thus one perhaps           15   
Hath been by force of palsy clean transposed,      
But I ne’er saw it nor believe it so.      
  Now, reader! think within thyself, so God      
Fruit of thy reading give thee! how I long      
Could keep my visage dry, when I beheld           20   
Near me our form distorted in such guise,      
That on the hinder parts fallen from the face      
The tears down-streaming roll’d. Against a rock      
I leant and wept, so that my guide exclaim’d:      
“What, and art thou, too, witless as the rest?           25   
Here pity most doth show herself alive,      
When she is dead. What guilt exceedeth his,      
Who with Heaven’s judgment in his passion strives?      
Raise up thy head, raise up, and see the man      
Before whose eyes 1 earth gaped in Thebes, when all           30   
Cried out ‘Amphiaraüs, whither rushest?      
Why leavest thou the war?’ He not the less      
Fell ruining far as to Minos down,      
Whose grapple none eludes. Lo! how he makes      
The breast his shoulders; and who once too far           35   
Before him wish’d to see, now backward looks,      
And treads reverse his path. Tiresias note,      
Who semblance changed, when woman he became      
Of male, through every limb transform’d; and then      
Once more behoved him with his rod to strike           40   
The two entwining serpents, ere the plumes,      
That mark’d the better sex, might shoot again.      
  “Aruns, with rere his belly facing, comes.      
On Luni’s mountains ’midst the marbles white,      
Where delves Carrara’s hind, who wons beneath,           45   
A cavern was his dwelling, whence the stars      
And main-sea whide in boundless view he held.      
  “The next, whose loosen’d tresses overspread      
Her bosom, which thou seest not (for each hair      
On that side grows) was Manto, she who search’d           50   
Through many regions, and at length her seat      
Fix’d in my native land: whence a short space      
My words detain thy audience. When her sire      
From life departed, and in servitude      
The city dedicate to Bacchus mourn’d,           55   
Long time she went a wanderer through the world.      
Aloft in Italy’s delightful land      
A lake there lies, at foot of that proud Alp      
That o’er the Tyrol locks Germania in,      
Its name Benacus, from whose ample breast           60   
A thousand springs, methinks, and more, between      
Camonica and Garda, issuing forth,      
Water the Apennine. There is a spot 2      
At midway of that lake, where he who bears      
Of Trento’s flock the pastoral staff, with him           65   
Of Brescia, and the Veronese, might each      
Passing that way his benediction give.      
A garrison of goodly site and strong      
Peschiera 3 stands, to awe with front opposed      
The Bergamese and Brescian, whence the shore           70   
More slope each way descends. There, whatsoe’er      
Benacus’ bosom holds not, tumbling o’er      
Down falls, and winds a river flood beneath      
Through the green pastures. Soon as in his course      
The stream makes head, Benacus then no more           75   
They call the name, but Mincius, till at last      
Reaching Governo, into Po he falls.      
Not far his course hath run, when a wide flat      
It finds, which overstretching as a marsh      
It covers, pestilent in summer oft.           80   
Hence journeying, the savage maiden saw      
Midst of the fen a territory waste      
And naked of inhabitants. To shun      
All human converse, here she with her slaves,      
Plying her arts, remain’d, and liv’d, and left           85   
Her body tenantless. Thenceforth the tribes,      
Who round were scatter’d, gathering to that place,      
Assembled; for its strength was great, enclosed      
On all parts by the fen. On those dead bones      
They rear’d themselves a city, for her sake           90   
Calling it Mantua, who first chose the spot,      
Nor ask’d another omen for the name;      
Wherein more numerous the people dwelt,      
Ere Casalodi’s madness 4 by deceit      
Was wronged of Pinamonte. If thou hear           95   
Henceforth another origin assign’d      
Of that my country, I forewarn thee now,      
That falsehood none beguile thee of the truth.”      
  I answer’d, “Teacher, I conclude thy words      
So certain, that all else shall be to me           100   
As embers lacking life. But now of these,      
Who here proceed, instruct me, if thou see      
Any that merit more especial note.      
For thereon is my mind alone intent.”      
  He straight replied: “That spirit, from whose cheek           105   
The beard sweeps o’er his shoulders brown, what time      
Græcia was emptied of her males, that scarce      
The cradles were supplied, the seer was he      
In Aulis, who with Calchas gave the sign      
When first to cut the cable. Him they named           110   
Eurypilus: so sings my tragic strain,      
In which majestic measure well thou know’st,      
Who know’st it all. That other, round the loins      
So slender of his shape, was Michael Scot, 5      
Practised in every slight of magic wile.           115   
  “Guido Bonatti 6 see: Asdente mark,  7      
Who now were willing he had tended still      
The thread and cordwain, and too late repents.      
  “See next the wretches, who the needle left,      
The shuttle and the spindle, and became           120   
Diviners: baneful witcheries they wrought      
With images and herbs. But onward now:      
For now doth Cain with fork of thorns 8 confine      
On either hemisphere, touching the wave      
Beneath the towers of Seville. Yesternight           125   
The moon was round. Thou mayst remember well:      
For she good service did thee in the gloom      
Of the deep wood.” This said, both onward moved.      
    
Note 1. Amphiaraüs, one of the seven kings who besieged Thebes. He is said to have been swallowed up by an opening of the earth. [back]   
Note 2. “There is a spot.” Prato di Fame, where the dioceses of Trento, Verona, and Brescia meet. [back]   
Note 3. “Peschiera.” A garrison situated to the south of the lake, where it empties and forms the Mincius. [back]   
Note 4. Alberto da Casalodi, in possession of Mantua, was persuaded by Pinamonte Buonacossi to ingratiate himself with the people by banishing to their own castles the nobles, who were obnoxious to them. Pinamonte then put himself at the head of the populace, drove out Casalodi and his adherents, and obtained the sovereignty for himself. [back]   
Note 5. “It is not long since there was in this city (Florence) a great master in necromancy, called Michele Scotto, because he was from Scotland.” Boccaccio, Decameron G. viii. N. 9. [back]   
Note 6. An astrologer of Forli, on whose skill Guido da Montefeltro, lord of that place, so relied, that he is reported never to have gone into battle, except in the hour recommended to him by Bonatti. Landino and Vellutello speak of his book on astrology. Macchiavelli mentions him in the History of Florence, I. i. p. 24. ed. 1550. “He flourished about 1230 and 1260. Though a learned astronomer he was seduced by astrology, through which he was greatly in favor with many princes.”] [back]   
Note 7. A shoemaker at Parma, who deserted his business to practice the arts of divination. [back]   
Note 8. By Cain and the thorns (“The Man in the Moon”) the Poet denotes that luminary. The same superstition is alluded to in the Paradise, Canto ii. 52.

Canto XXI   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—Still in the eighth circle, which bears the name of Malebolge, they look down from the bridge that passes over its fifth gulf, upon the barterers or public peculators. These are plunged in a lake of boiling pitch, and guarded by Demons, to whom Virgil, leaving Dante apart, presents himself; and license being obtained to pass onward, both pursue their way.   
    
    
THUS we from bridge to bridge, with other talk,      
The which my drama cares not to rehearse,      
Pass’d on; and to the summit reaching, stood      
To view another gap, within the round      
Of Malebolge, other bootless pangs.           5   
  Marvellous darkness shadow’d o’er the place.      
  In the Venetians’ arsenal as boils      
Through wintry months tenacious pitch, to smear      
Their unsound vessels; for the inclement time      
Seafaring men restrains, and in that while           10   
His bark one builds anew, another stops      
The ribs of his that hath made many a voyage,      
One hammers at the prow, one at the poop,      
This shapeth oars, that other cables twirls,      
The mizzen one repairs, and main-sail rent;           15   
So, not by force of fire but art divine,      
Boil’d here a glutinous thick mass, that round      
Limed all the shore beneath. I that beheld,      
But therein naught distinguish’d, save the bubbles      
Raised by the boiling, and one mighty swell           20   
Heave, and by turns subsiding fall. While there      
I fix’d my ken below, “Mark! mark!” my guide      
Exclaiming, drew me toward him from the place      
Wherein I stood. I turn’d myself, as one      
Impatient to behold that which beheld           25   
He needs must shun, whom sudden fear unmans,      
That he his flight delays not for the view.      
Behind me I discern’d a devil black,      
That running up advanced along the rock.      
Ah! what fierce cruelty his look bespake.           30   
In act how bitter did he seem, with wings      
Buoyant outstretch’d and feet of nimblest tread.      
His shoulder, proudly eminent and sharp,      
Was with a sinner charged; by either haunch      
He held him, the foot’s sinew griping fast.           35   
  “Ye of our bridge!” he cried. “keen-talon’d fiends!      
Lo! one of Santa Zita’s elders. Him      
Whelm ye beneath, while I return for more.      
That land hath store of such. All men are there,      
Except Bonturo, barterers: of ‘no’           40   
For lucre there an ‘ay’ is quickly made.”      
  Him dashing down, o’er the rough rock he turn’d;      
Nor ever after thief a mastiff loosed      
Sped with like eager haste. That other sank,      
And forthwith writing to the surface rose.           45   
But those dark demons, shrouded by the bridge,      
Cried, “Here the hallow’d visage saves not: here      
Is other swimming than in Serchio’s wave,      
Wherefore, if thou desire we rend thee not,      
Take heed thou mount not o’er the pitch.” This said,           50   
They grappled him with more than hundred hooks,      
And shouted: “Cover’d thou must sport thee here;      
So, if thou canst, in secret mayst thou filch.”      
E’en thus the cook bestirs him, with his grooms,      
To thrust the flesh into the caldron down           55   
With flesh-hooks, that it float not on the top.      
  Me then my guide bespake: “Lest they descry      
That thou art here, behind a craggy rock      
Bend low and screen thee: and whate’er of force      
Be offer’d me, or insult, fear thou not;           60   
For I am well advised, who have been erst      
In the like fray.” Beyond the bridge’s head      
Therewith he pass’d; and reaching the sixth pier,      
Behoved him then a forehead terror-proof.      
  With storm and fury, as when dogs rush forth           65   
Upon the poor man’s back, who suddenly      
From whence he standeth makes his suit; so rush’d      
Those from beneath the arch, and against him      
Their weapons all they pointed. He, aloud:      
“Be none of you outrageous: ere your tine           70   
Dare seize me, come forth from amongst you one,      
Who having heard my words, decide he then      
If he shall tear these limbs.” They shouted loud,      
“Go, Malacoda!” Whereat one advanced,      
The others standing firm, and as he came,           75   
“What may this turn avail him?” he exclaim’d.      
  “Believest thou, Malacoda! I had come      
Thus far from all your skirmishing secure,”      
My teacher answer’d, “without will divine      
And destiny propitious? Pass we then;           80   
For so Heaven’s pleasure is, that I should lead      
Another through this savage wilderness.”      
  Forthwith so fell his pride, that he let drop      
The instrument of torture at his feet,      
And to the rest exclaim’d: “We have no power           85   
To strike him.” Then to me my guide: “O thou!      
Who on the bridge among the crags dost sit      
Low crouching, safely now to me return.”      
  I rose, and toward him moved with speed; the fiends      
Meantime all forward drew: me terror seized,           90   
Lest they should break the compact they had made.      
Thus issuing from Caprona, 1 once I saw      
Th’ infantry, dreading lest his covenant      
The foe should break; so close he hemm’d them round.      
  I to my leader’s side adhered, mine eyes           95   
With fixt and motionless observance bent      
On their unkindly visage. They their hooks      
Protruding, one the other thus bespake:      
“Wilt thou I touch him on the hip?” To whom      
Was answer’d: “Even so; nor miss thy aim.”           100   
  But he, who was in conference with my guide,      
Turn’d rapid round; and thus the demon spake:      
“Stay, stay thee, Scarmiglione!” Then to us      
He added: “Further footing to your step      
This rock affords not, shiver’d to the base           105   
Of the sixth arch. But would ye still proceed,      
Up by this cavern go: not distant far,      
Another rock will yield you passage safe.      
  Yesterday, 2 later by five hours than now,      
Twelve hundred threescore years and six had fill’d           110   
The circuit of their course, since here the way      
Was broken. Thitherward I straight despatch      
Certain of these my scouts, who shall espy      
If any on the surface bask. With them      
Go ye: for ye shall find them nothing fell.           115   
Come, Alichino, forth,” with that he cried,      
“And Calcabrina, and Cagnozzo thou!      
The troop of ten let Barbariccia lead.      
With Libicocco, Draghinazzo haste,      
Fang’d Ciriatta, Graffiacane fierce,           120   
And Farfarello, and mad Rubicant.      
Search ye around the bubbling tar. For these,      
In safety lead them, where the other crag      
Uninterrupted traverses the dens.”      
  I then: “O master! what a sight is there.           125   
Ah! without escort, journey we alone,      
Which, if thou know the way, I covet not.      
Unless thy prudence fail thee, dost not mark      
How they do gnarl upon us, and their scowl      
Threatens us present tortures?” He replied:           130   
“I charge thee, fear not: let them, as they will,      
Gnarl on: ’tis but in token of their spite      
Against the souls who mourn in torment steep’d.”      
  To leftward o’er the pier they turn’d; but each      
Had first between his teeth prest close the tongue,           135   
Toward their leader for a signal looking,      
Which he with sound obscene triumphant gave.      
    
Note 1. “From Caprona.” The surrender of the castle of Caprona to the combined forces of Florence and Lucca, on condition that the garrison should march out in safety, to which event Dante was a witness, took place in 1290. See G. Villani, Hist. lib. vii. c. cxxxvi  [back]   
Note 2. “Yesterday.” This passage fixes the era of Dante’s descent at Good Friday, in the year 1300 (thirty-four years from our blessed Lord’s incarnation being added to 1266), and at the thirty-fifth year of our Poet’s age. See Canto i. v. I. The awful event alluded to, the Evangelists inform us, happened “at the ninth hour,” that is, our sixth, when “the rocks were rent,” and the convulsion, according to Dante, was felt even in the depths of Hell. See Canto xii. v. 38.

   
Canto XXII   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—Virgil and Dante proceed, accompanied by the Demons, and see other sinners of the same description in the same gulf. The device of Ciampolo, one of these, to escape from the Demons, who had laid hold on him.   
    
    
IT hath been heretofore my chance to see      
Horsemen with martial order shifting camp,      
To onset sallying, or in muster ranged,      
Or in retreat sometimes outstretch’d for flight:      
Light-armed squadrons and fleet foragers           5   
Scouring thy plains, Arezzo! have I seen,      
And clashing tournaments, and titling jousts,      
Now with the sound of trumpets, now of bells,      
Tabors, or signals made from castled heights,      
And with inventions multiform, our own,           10   
Or introduced from foreign land; but ne’er      
To such a strange recorder I beheld,      
In evolution moving, horse nor foot,      
Nor ship, the tack’d by sign from land or star.      
  With the ten Demons on our way we went;           15   
Ah, fearful company! but in the church      
With saints, with gluttons at the tavern’s mess.      
  Still earnest on the pitch I gazed, to mark      
All things whate’er the chasm contain’d, and those      
Who burn’d within. As dolphins that, in sign           20   
To mariners, heave high their arched backs,      
That thence forewarn’d they may advise to save      
Their threaten’d vessel; so, at intervals,      
To ease the pain, his back some sinner show’d,      
Then hid more nimbly than the lightning-glance.           25   
  E’en as the frogs, that of a watery moat      
Stand at the brink, with the jaws only out,      
Their feet and of the trunk all else conceal’d,      
Thus on each part the sinners stood; but soon      
As Barbariccia was at hand, so they           30   
Drew back under the wave. I saw, and yet      
My heart doth stragger, one, that waited thus,      
As it befalls that oft one frog remains,      
While the next springs away: and Graffiacan,      
Who of the fiends was nearest, grappling seized           35   
His clotted locks, and dragg’d him sprawling up,      
That he appear’d to me an otter. Each      
Already by their names I knew, so well      
When they were chosen I observed, and mark’d      
How one the other call’d. “O Rubicant!           40   
See that his hide thou with thy talons flay,”      
Shouted together all the cursed crew.      
  Then I: “Inform thee, Master! if thou may,      
What wretched soul is this, on whom their hands      
His foes have laid.” My leader to his side           45   
Approach’d, and whence he came inquired; to whom      
Was answer’d thus: “Born in Navarre’s domain, 1      
My mother placed me in a lord’s retinue:      
For she had borne me to a losel vile,      
A spendthrift of his substance and himself.           50   
The good King Thibault 2 after that I served:      
To peculating here my thoughts were turn’d,      
Whereof I give account in this dire heat.”      
  Straight Ciriatto, from whose mouth a tusk      
Issued on either side, as from a boar,           55   
Ripp’d him with one of these. ’Twixt evil claws      
The mouse had fallen: but Barbariccia cried,      
Seizing him with both arms: “Stand thou apart      
While I do fix him on my prong transpierced.”      
Then added, turning to my guide his face,           60   
“Inquire of him, if more thou wish to learn,      
Ere he again be rent.” My leader thus:      
“Then tell us of the partners in thy guilt;      
Knowest thou any sprung of Latin land      
Under the tar?” “I parted,” he replied,           65   
“But now from one, who sojourn’d not far thence;      
So were I under shelter now with him,      
Nor hook nor talon then should scare me more.”      
  “Too long we suffer,” Libicocco cried;      
Then, darting forth a prong, seized on his arm,           70   
And mangled bore away the sinewy part.      
Him Draghinazzo by his thighs beneath      
Would next have caught; whence angrily their chief,      
Turning on all sides round, with threatening brow      
Restrain’d them. When their strife a little ceased,           75   
Of him, who yet was gazing on his wound,      
My teacher thus without delay inquired:      
“Who was the spirit, from whom by evil hap      
Parting, as thou hast told, thou camest to shore?”      
  “It was the friar Gomita,” 3 he rejoin’d,           80   
“He of Gallura, vessel of all guile,      
Who had his master’s enemies in hand,      
And used them so that they commend him well.      
Money he took, and them at large dismiss’d;      
So he reports; and in each other charge           85   
Committed to his keeping play’d the part      
Of barterer to the height. With him doth herd      
The chief of Logodoro, Michel Zanche. 4      
Sardinia is a theme whereof their tongue      
Is never weary. Out! alas! behold           90   
That other, how he grins. More would I say,      
But tremble lest he mean to maul me sore.”      
  Their captain then to Farfarello turning,      
Who roll’d his moony eyes in act to strike,      
Rebuked him thus: “Off, cursed bird! avaunt!”           95   
  “If ye desire to see or hear,” he thus      
Quaking with dread resumed, “or Tuscan spirits      
Or Lombard, I will cause them to appear.      
Meantime let these ill talons bate their fury,      
So that no vengeance they may fear from them,           100   
  And I, remaining in this self-same place,      
Will, for myself but one, make seven appear,      
When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for so      
Our custom is to call each other up.”      
  Cagnazzo at that word deriding grinn’d,           105   
Then wagg’d the head and spake: “Hear his device,      
Mischievous as he is, to plunge him down.”      
  Whereto he thus, who fail’d not in rich store      
Of nice-wove toils: “Mischief, forsooth, extreme!      
Meant only to procure myself more woe.”           110   
  No longer Alichino then refrain’d,      
But thus, the rest gainsaying, him bespake:      
“If thou do cast thee down, I not on foot      
Will chase thee, but above the pitch will beat      
My plumes. Quit we the vantage ground, and let           115   
The bank be as a shield; that we may see,      
If singly thou prevail against us all.”      
  Now, reader, of new sport expect to hear.      
  They each one turn’d his eyes to the other shore,      
He first, who was the hardest to persuade.           120   
The spirit of Navarre chose well his time,      
Planted his feet on land, and at one leap      
Escaping, disappointed their resolve.      
  Them quick resentment stung, but him the most      
Who was the cause of failure: in pursuit           125   
He therefore sped, exclaiming, “Thou art caught.”      
  But little it avail’d; terror outstripp’d      
His following flight; the other plunged beneath,      
And he with upward pinion raised his breast:      
E’en thus the water-fowl, when she perceives           130   
The falcon near, dives instant down, while he      
Enraged and spent retires. That mockery      
In Calcabrina fury stirr’d, who flew      
After him, with desire of strife inflamed;      
And, for the barterer had ’scaped, so turn’d           135   
His talons on his comrade. O’er the dyke      
In grapple close they join’d; but the other proved      
A goshawk able to rend well his foe;      
And in the boiling lake both fell. The heat      
Was umpire soon between them; but in vain           140   
To lift themselves they strove, so fast were glued      
Their pennons. Barbariccia, as the rest,      
That chance lamenting, four in flight despatch’d      
From the other coast, with all their weapons arm’d.      
They, to their post on each side speedily           145   
Descending, stretch’d their hooks toward the fiends,      
Who flounder’d, inly burning from their scars:      
And we departing left them to that broil.      
    
Note 1. His name is said to be Ciampolo. [back]   
Note 2. “Thibault I, King of Navarre, died on June 8, 1233, as much to be commended for the desire he showed of aiding the war in the Holy Land, as reprehensible and faulty for his design of oppressing the rights and privileges of the Church. Thibault undoubtedly merits praise, as for his other endowments, so especially for his cultivation of the liberal arts, his exercise and knowledge of music and poetry, in which he so much excelled that he was accustomed to compose verses and sing them to the viol, and to exhibit his poetical compositions publicly in his palace, that they might be criticised by all.” [back]   
Note 3. He was intrusted by Nino de’ Visconti with the government of Gallura, one of the four jurisdictions of Sardinia. He took a bribe from his master’s enemies and allowed them to escape. See also Canto xxxiii and Purgatory, Canto viii. [back]   
Note 4. President of Logodoro, of the four Sardinian jurisdictions. See Canto xxxiii. Note to v. 136.

   
Canto XXIII   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—The enraged Demons pursue Dante, but he is preserved from them by Virgil. On reaching the sixth gulf, he beholds the punishment of the hypocrites; which is, to pace continually round the gulf under the pressure of caps and hoods, that are gilt on the outside, but leaden within. He is addressed by two of these, Catalano and Loderingo, Knights of St. Mary, otherwise called Joyous Friars of Bologna. Caïaphas is seen fixed to a cross on the ground, and lies so stretched along the way, that all tread on him in passing.   
    
    
IN silence and in solitude we went,      
One first, the other following his steps,      
As minor friars journeying on their road.      
The present fray had turn’d my thoughts to muse      
Upon old Æsop’s fable, 1 where he told           5   
What fate unto the mouse and frog befell;      
For language hath not sounds more like in sense,      
Than are these chances, if the origin      
And end of each be heedfully compared.      
And as one thought bursts from another forth,           10   
So afterward from that another sprang,      
Which added doubly to my former fear.      
For thus I reason’d: “These through us have been      
So foil’d, with loss and mockery so complete,      
As needs must sting them sore. If anger then           15   
Be to their evil will conjoin’d, more fell      
They shall pursue us, than the savage hound      
Snatches the leveret panting ’twixt his jaws.”      
  Already I perceived my hair stand all      
On end with terror, and look’d eager back.           20   
  “Teacher,” I thus began, “if speedily      
Thyself and me thou hide not, much I dread      
Those evil talons. Even now behind      
They urge us: quick imagination works      
So forcibly, that I already feel them.”           25   
  He answer’d: “Were I form’d of leaded glass,      
I should not sooner draw unto myself      
Thy outward image, than I now imprint      
That from within. This moment came thy thoughts      
Presented before mine, with similar act           30   
And countenance similar, so that from both      
I one design have framed. If the right coast      
Incline so much, that we may thence descend      
Into the other chasm, we shall escape      
Secure from this imagined pursuit.”           35   
  He had not spoke his purpose to the end,      
When I from far beheld them with spread wings      
Approach to take us. Suddenly my guide      
Caught me, even as a mother that from sleep      
Is by the noise aroused, and near her sees           40   
The climbing fires, who snatches up her babe      
And flies ne’er pausing, careful more of him      
Than of herself, that but a single vest      
Clings round her limbs. Down from the jutting beach      
Supine he cast him to that pendent rock,           45   
Which closes on one part the other chasm.      
  Never ran water with such hurrying pace      
Adown the tube to turn a land-mill’s wheel,      
When nearest it approaches to the spokes,      
As then along that edge my master ran,           50   
Carrying me in his bosom, as a child,      
Not a companion. Scarcely had his feet      
Reach’d to the lowest of the bed beneath,      
When over us the steep they reach’d: but fear      
In him was none; for that high Providence,           55   
Which placed them ministers of the fifth foss,      
Power of departing thence took from them all.      
  There in the depth we saw a painted tribe,      
Who paced with tardy steps around, and wept,      
Faint in appearance and o’ercome with toil.           60   
  Caps had they on, with hoods, that fell low down      
Before their eyes, in fashion like to those      
Worn by the monks in Cologne. 2 Their outside      
Was overlaid with gold, dazzling to view,      
But leaden all within, and of such weight,           65   
That Frederick’s 3 compared to these were straw.      
Oh, everlasting wearisome attire!      
  We yet once more with them together turn’d      
To leftward, on their dismal moan intent.      
But by the weight opprest, so slowly came           70   
The fainting people, that our company      
Was changed, at every movement of the step.      
  Whence I my guide address’d: “See that thou find      
Some spirit, whose name may by his deeds be known;      
And to that end look round thee as thou go’st.”           75   
  Then one, who understood the Tuscan voice,      
Cried after us aloud: “Hold in your feet,      
Ye who so swiftly speed through the dusk air.      
Perchance from me thou shalt obtain thy wish.”      
  Whereat my leader, turning, me bespake:           80   
“Pause, and then onward at their pace proceed.”      
  I staid, and saw two spirits in whose look      
Impatient eagerness of mind was mark’d      
To overtake me; but the load they bare      
And narrow path retarded their approach.           85   
  Soon as arrived, they with an eye askance      
Perused me, but spake not: then turning, each      
To other thus conferring said: “This one      
Seems, by the action of his throat, alive;      
And, be they dead, what privilege allows           90   
They walk unmantled by the cumbrous stole?”      
  Then thus to me: “Tuscan, who visitest      
The college of the mourning hypocrites,      
Disdain not to instruct us who thou art.”      
  “By Arno’s pleasant stream,” I thus replied,           95   
“In the great city I was bred and grew,      
And wear the body I have ever worn.      
  But who are ye, from whom such mighty grief,      
As now I witness, courseth down your cheeks?      
What torment breaks forth in this bitter woe?”           100   
  “Our bonnets gleaming bright with orange hue,”      
One of them answer’d, “are so leaden gross,      
That with their weight they make the balances      
To crack beneath them. Joyous friars 4 we were,      
Bologna’s natives; Catalano I,           105   
He Loderingo named; and by thy land      
Together taken, as men used to take      
A single and indifferent arbiter,      
To reconcile their strifes. How there we sped,      
Gardingo’s vicinage 5 can best declare.”           110   
  “O friars!” I began, “your miseries—”      
But there brake off, for one had caught mine eye,      
Fix’d to a cross with three stakes on the ground:      
He, when he saw me, writhed himself, throughout      
Distorted, ruffling with deep sighs his beard.           115   
And Catalano, who thereof was ’ware,      
Thus spake: “That pierced spirit,  6 whom intent      
Thou view’st, was he who gave the Pharisees      
Counsel, that it were fitting for one man      
To suffer for the people. He doth lie           120   
Transverse; nor any passes, but him first      
Behoves make feeling trial how each weighs.      
In straits like this along the foss are placed      
The father of his consort, 7 and the rest      
Partakers in that council, seed of ill           125   
And sorrow to the Jews.” I noted then,      
How Virgil gazed with wonder upon him,      
Thus abjectly extended on the cross      
In banishment eternal. To the friar      
He next his words address’d: “We pray ye tell,           130   
If so be lawful, whether on our right      
Lies any opening in the rock, whereby      
We both may issue hence, without constraint      
On the dark angels, that compell’d they come      
To lead us from this depth.” He thus replied:           135   
“Nearer than thou dost hope, there is a rock      
From the great circle moving, which o’ersteps      
Each vale of horror, save that here his cope      
Is shatter’d. By the ruin ye may mount:      
For on the side it slants, and most the height           140   
Rises below.” With head bent down awhile      
My leader stood; then spake: “He warn’d us ill,      
Who yonder hangs the sinners on his hook.”      
  To whom the friar: “At Bologna erst      
I many vices of the Devil heard;           145   
Among the rest was said, ‘He is a liar,      
And the father of lies!’” When he had spoke,      
My leader with large strides proceeded on,      
Somewhat disturb’d with anger in his look.      
  I therefore left the spirits heavy laden,           150   
And, following, his beloved footsteps mark’d.      
    
Note 1. “Æsop’s fable.” The fable of the frog, who offered to carry the mouse across a ditch, with the intention of drowning him, when both were carried off by a kite. It is not among those Greek fables which go under the name of Æsop. [back]   
Note 2. They wore unusually large cowls. [back]   
Note 3. The Emperor Frederick II is said to have punished those who were guilty of high treason by wrapping them up in lead and casting them into a furnace. [back]   
Note 4. “Joyous friars.” “Those who ruled the city of Florence on the part of the Ghibellines perceiving this discontent and murmuring, which they were fearful might produce a rebellion against themselves, in order to satisfy the people, made choice of two knights, Frati Gaudenti (joyous friars) of Bologna, on whom they conferred the chief power in Florence; one named M. Catalano de’ Malavolti, the other M. Loderingo di Liandolo; one an adherent of the Guelf, the other of the Ghibelline party. It is to be remarked, that the Joyous Friars were called Knights of St. Mary, and became knights on taking that habit: their robes were white, the mantle sable, and the arms a white field and red cross with two stars: their office was to defend widows and orphans, they were to act as mediators; they had internal regulations, like other religious bodies. The above-mentioned M. Loderingo was the founder of that order. But it was not long before they too well deserved the appellation given them, and were found to be more bent on enjoying themselves than on any other object. These two friars were called in by the Florentines, and had a residence assigned them in the palace belonging to the people, over against the Abbey. Such was the dependence placed on the character of their order, it was expected they would be impartial, and would save the commonwealth any unnecessary expense; instead of which, though inclined to opposite parties, they secretly and hypocritically concurred in promoting their own advantage rather than the public good.”—G. Villani, b. vii. c. xiii. This happened in 1266. [back]   
Note 5. The name of that part of the city which was inhabited by the powerful Ghibelline family of the Uberti, and destroyed under the partial and iniquitous administration of Catalano and Loderingo. [back]   
Note 6. “That pierced spirit.” Caïaphas. [back]   
Note 7. Annas, father-in-law to Caïaphas.

Canto XXIV   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—Under the escort of his faithful master, Dante not without difficulty makes his way out of the sixth gulf; and in the seventh, sees the robbers tormented by venomous and pestilent serpents. The soul of Vanni Fucci, who had pillaged the sacristy of St. James in Pistoia, predicts some calamities that impended over that city, and over the Florentines.   
    
    
IN the year’s early nonage, 1 when the sun      
Tempers his tresses in Aquarius’ urn,      
And now toward equal day the nights recede;      
Whenas the rime upon the earth puts on      
Her dazzling sister’s image, but not long           5   
Her milder sway endures; then riseth up      
The village hind, whom fails his wintry store,      
And looking out beholds the plain around      
All whiten’d; whence impatiently he smites      
His thighs, and to his hut returning in,           10   
There paces to and fro, wailing his lot,      
As a discomfited and helpless man;      
Then comes he forth again, and feels new hope      
Spring in his bosom, finding e’en thus soon      
The world hath changed its countenance, grasps his crook,           15   
And forth to pasture drives his little flock:      
So me my guide dishearten’d, when I saw      
His troubled forehead; and so speedily      
That ill was cured; for at the fallen bridge      
Arriving, toward me with a look as sweet,           20   
He turn’d him back, as that I first beheld      
At the steep mountain’s foot. Regarding well      
The ruin, and some counsel first maintain’d      
With his own thought, he opened wide his arm      
And took me up. As one, who, while he works,           25   
Computes his labor’s issue, that he seems      
Still to foresee the effect; so lifting me      
Up to the summit of one peak, he fix’d      
His eye upon another. “Grapple that,”      
Said he, “but first make proof, if it be such           30   
As will sustain thee.” For one capt with lead      
This were no journey. Scarcely he, though light,      
And I, though onward push’d from crag to crag,      
Could mount. And if the precinct of this coast      
Were not less ample than the last, for him           35   
I know not, but my strength had surely fail’d.      
But Malebolge all toward the mouth      
Inclining of the nethermost abyss,      
The site of every valley hence requires,      
That one side upward slope, the other fall.           40   
  At length the point from whence the utmost stone      
Juts down, we reach’d; soon as to that arrived,      
So was the breath exhausted from my lungs      
I could no further, but did seat me there.      
  “Now needs thy best of man;” so spake my guide:           45   
“For not on downy plumes, nor under shade      
Of canopy reposing, fame is won;      
Without which whosoe’r consumes his days,      
Leaveth such vestige of himself on earth,      
As smoke in air or foam upon the wave.           50   
Thou therefore rise: vanquish thy weariness      
By the mind’s effort, in each struggle form’d      
To vanquish, if she suffer not the weight      
Of her corporeal frame to crush her down.      
A longer ladder yet remains to scale.           55   
From these to have escaped sufficeth not,      
If well thou note me, profit by my words.”      
  I straightway rose, and show’d myself less spent      
That I in truth did feel me. “On,” I cried,      
“For I am stout and fearless.” Up the rock           60   
Our way we held, more rugged than before,      
Narrower, and steeper far to climb. From talk      
I ceased not, as we journey’d, so to seem      
Least faint; whereat a voice from the other foss      
Did issue forth, for utterance suited ill.           65   
Though on the arch that crosses there I stood,      
What were the words I knew not, but who spake      
Seem’d moved in anger. Down I stoop’d to look;      
But my quick eye might reach not to the depth      
For shrouding darkness; wherefore thus I spake:           70   
“To the next circle, teacher, bend thy steps,      
And from the wall dismount we; for as hence      
I hear and understand not, so I see      
Beneath, and naught discern.” “I answer not,”      
Said he, “but by the deed. To fair request           75   
Silent performance maketh best return.”      
  We from the bridge’s head descended, where      
To the eighth mound it joins; and then, the chasm      
Opening to view, I saw a crowd within      
Of serpents terrible, so strange of shape           80   
And hideous, that remembrance in my veins      
Yet shrinks the vital current. Of her sands      
Let Libya vaunt no more: if Jaculus,      
Pareas and Chelyder be her brood,      
Cenchris and Amphisbæna, plagues so dire           85   
Or in such numbers swarming ne’er she show’d,      
Not with all Ethiopia, and whate’er      
Above the Erythræan sea is spawn’d.      
  Amid this dread exuberance of woe      
Ran naked spirits wing’d with horrid fear,           90   
Nor hope had they of crevice where to hide,      
Or heliotrope to charm them out of view.      
With serpents were their hands behind them bound,      
Which through their reins infix’d the tail and head,      
Twisted in folds before. And lo! on one           95   
Near to our side, darted an adder up,      
And, where the neck is on the shoulders tied,      
Transpierced him. Far more quickly than e’er pen      
Wrote O or I, he kindled, burn’d, and changed      
To ashes all, pour’d out upon the earth.           100   
When there dissolved he lay, the dust again      
Uproll’d spontaneous, and the self-same form      
Instant resumed. So mighty sages tell,      
The Arabian Phoenix, when five hundred years      
Have well-nigh circled, dies, and springs forthwith           105   
Renascent: blade nor herb throughout his life      
He tastes, but tears of frankincense alone      
And odorous amomum: swaths of nard      
And myrrh his funeral shroud. As one that falls,      
He knows not how, by force demoniac dragg’d           110   
To earth, or through obstruction fettering up      
In chains invisible the powers of man,      
Who, risen from his trance, gazeth around,      
Bewilder’d with the monstrous agony      
He hath endured, and wildly staring sighs;           115   
So stood aghast the sinner when he rose.      
  Oh! how severe God’s judgment, that deals out      
Such blows in stormy vengeance. Who he was,      
My teacher next inquired; and thus in few      
He answer’d: “Vanni Fucci 2 am I call’d,           120   
Not long since rained down from Tuscany      
To this dire gullet. Me the bestial life      
And not the human pleased, mule that I was,      
Who in Pistoia found my worthy den.”      
  I then to Virgil: “Bid him stir not hence;           125   
And ask what crime did thrust him thither: once      
A man I knew him, choleric and bloody.”      
  The sinner heard and feign’d not, but toward me      
His mind directing and his face, wherein      
Was dismal shame depictured, thus he spake:           130   
“It grieves me more to have been caught by thee      
In this sad plight, which thou beholdest, than      
When I was taken from the other life.      
I have no power permitted to deny      
What thou inquirest. I am doom’d thus low           135   
To dwell, for that the sacristy by me      
Was rifled of its goodly ornaments,      
And with the guilt another falsely charged.      
But that thou mayst not joy to see me thus,      
So as thou e’er shalt ’scape this darksome realm,           140   
Open thine ears and hear what I forebode.      
Reft of the Neri first Pistoia 3 pines;      
Then Florence  4 changeth citizens and laws;      
From Valdimagra, 5 drawn by wrathful Mars,      
A vapor rises, wrapt in turbid mists,           145   
And sharp and eager driveth on the storm      
With Arrowy hurtling o’er Piceno’s field,      
Whence suddenly the cloud shall burst, and strike      
Each helpless Bianco prostrate to the ground.      
This have I told, that grief may rend thy heart.”           150   
    
Note 1. At the latter part of January, when the sun enters Aquarius, and the equinox draws near, when the hoar-frosts in the morning often wear the appearance of snow, but are melted by the rising sun.” [back]   
Note 2. Said to have been an illegitimate offspring of the family of Lazari in Pistoia, to have robbed the sacristy of the church of St. James in that city, and to have charged Vanni della Nona with the sacrilege; in consequence of which the latter suffered death. [back]   
Note 3. “In May, 1301, the Bianchi party of Pistoia, with the help of the Bianchi who ruled Florence, drove out the party of the Neri from the former place, destroying their houses, palaces, and farms.” [back]   
Note 4. “Then Florence.” “Soon after the Bianchi will be expelled from Florence, the Neri will prevail, and the laws and people will be changed.” [back]   
Note 5. Alluding to the victory obtained by the Marquis Morello Malaspina of Valdimagra, who put himself at the head of the Neri, and defeated their opponents the Bianchi, in the Campo Piceno near Pistoia, soon after the occurrence related in the preceding note on v. 142. Currado Malaspina is introduced in the eighth Canto of the Purgatory; where it appears, that although on the present occasion they espoused contrary sides, most important favors were nevertheless conferred by that family on our Poet, at a subsequent period of his exile, in 1307.

Canto XXV   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—The sacrilegious Fucci vents his fury in blasphemy, is seized by serpents, and flying is pursued by Cacus in the form of a Centaur, who is described with a swarm of serpents on his haunch, and a dragon on his shoulders breathing forth fire. Our Poet then meets with the spirits of three of his countrymen, two of whom undergo a marvelous transformation in his presence.   
    
    
WHEN he had spoke, the sinner raised his hands 1      
Pointed in mockery and cried” “Take them, God!      
I level them at thee.” From that day forth      
The serpents were my friends; for round his neck      
One of them rolling twisted, as it said,           5   
“Be silent, tongue!” Another, to his arms      
Upgliding, tied them, riveting itself      
So close, it took from them the power to move.      
  Pistoia! ah, Pistoia! why dost doubt      
To turn thee into ashes, cumbering earth           10   
No longer, since in evil act so far      
Thou hast outdone thy seed? I did not mark,      
Through all the gloomy circles of the abyss,      
Spirit, that swell’d so proudly ’gainst his God;      
Not him, 2 who headlong fell from Thebes. He fled,           15   
Nor utter’d more; and after him there came      
A Centaur full of fury, shouting, “Where,      
Where is the caitiff?” On Maremma’s marsh 3      
Swarm not the serpent tribe, as on his haunch      
They swarm’d, to where the human face begins.           20   
Behind his head, upon the shoulders, lay      
With open wings a dragon, breathing fire      
On whomsoe’er he met. To me my guide:      
“Cacus is this, who underneath the rock      
Of Aventine spread oft a lake of blood.           25   
He, from his brethren parted, here must tread      
A different journey, for his fraudful theft      
Of the great herd that near him stall’d; whence found      
His felon deeds their end, beneath the mace      
Of stout Alcides, that perchance laid on           30   
A hundred blows, and not the tenth was felt.”      
  While yet he spake, the Centaur sped away:      
And under us three spirits came, of whom      
Nor I nor he was ware, till they exclaim’d,      
“Say who are ye!” We then brake off discourse,           35   
Intent on these alone. I knew them not:      
But, as it chanceth oft, befell that one      
Had need to name another. “Where,” said he,      
“Doth Cianfa 4 lurk?” I, for a sign my guide      
Should stand attentive, placed against my lips           40   
The finger lifted. If, O reader! now      
Thou be not apt to credit what I tell,      
No marvel; for myself do scarce allow      
The witness of mine eyes. But as I look’d      
Toward them, lo! a serpent with six feet           45   
Springs forth on one, and fastens full upon him:      
His midmost grasp’d the belly, a forefoot      
Seized on each arm (while deep in either cheek      
He flesh’d his fangs); the hinder on the thighs      
Were spread, ’twixt which the tail inserted curl’d           50   
Upon the reins behind. Ivy ne’er clasp’d      
A dodder’d oak, as round the other’s limbs      
The hideous monster intertwined his own.      
Then, as they both had been of burning wax,      
Each melted into other, mingling hues,           55   
That which was either now was seen no more.      
Thus up the shrinking paper, ere it burns,      
A brown tint glides, not turning yet to black,      
And the clean white expires. The other two      
Look’d on exclaiming, “Ah! how dost thou change,           60   
Agnello! 5 See! Thou art nor double now,      
Nor only one.” The two heads now became      
One, and two figures blended in one form      
Appear’d, where both were lost. Of the four lengths      
Two arms were made: the belly and the chest,           65   
The thighs and legs, into such members changed      
As never eye hath seen. Of former shape      
All trace was vanish’d. Two, yet neither, seem’d      
That image miscreate, and so pass’d on      
With tardy steps. As underneath the scourge           70   
Of the fierce dog-star that lays bare the fields,      
Shifting from brake to brake the lizard seems      
A flash of lightning, if he thwart the road;      
So toward the entrails of the other two      
Approaching seem’d an adder all on fire,           75   
As the dark pepper-grain livid and swart.      
In that part, whence our life is nourish’d first,      
Once he transpierced; then down before him fell      
Stretch’d out. The pierced spirit look’d on him,      
But spake not; yea, stood motionless and yawn’d,           80   
As if by sleep or feverous fit assail’d.      
He eyed the serpent, and the serpent him.      
One from the wound, the other from the mouth      
Breathed a thick smoke, whose vapory columns join’d.      
  Lucan in mute attention now may hear,           85   
Nor thy disastrous fate, Sabellus, tell,      
Nor thine, Nasidius. Ovid now be mute.      
What if in warbling fiction he record      
Cadmus and Arethusa, to a snake      
Him changed, and her into a fountain clear,           90   
I envy not; for never face to face      
Two natures thus transmuted did he sing,      
Wherein both shapes were ready to assume      
The other’s substance. They in mutual guise      
So answer’d that the serpent split his train           95   
Divided to a fork, and the pierced spirit      
Drew close his steps together, legs and thighs      
Compacted, that no sign of juncture soon      
Was visible: the tail, disparted, took      
The figure which the spirit lost; its skin           100   
Softening, his indurated to a rind.      
The shoulders next I mark’d, that entering join’d      
The monster’s arm-pits, whose two shorter feet      
So lengthen’d, as the others dwindling shrunk.      
The feet behind then twisting up became           105   
That part that man conceals, which in the wretch      
Was cleft in twain. While both the shadowy smoke      
With a new color veils, and generates      
The excrescent pile on one, peeling it off      
From the other body, lo! upon his feet           110   
One upright rose, and prone the other fell.      
Nor yet their glaring and malignant lamps      
Were shifted, though each feature changed beneath.      
Of him who stood erect, the mounting face      
Retreated toward the temples, and what there           115   
Superfluous matter came, shot out in ears      
From the smooth cheeks; the rest, not backward dragg’d,      
Of its excess did shape the nose; and swell’d      
Into due size protuberant the lips.      
He, on the earth who lay, meanwhile extends           120   
His sharpen’d visage, and draws down the ears      
Into the head, as doth the slug his horns.      
His tongue, continuous before and apt      
For utterance, severs; and the other’s fork      
Closing unites. That done, the smoke was laid.           125   
The soul, transform’d into the brute, glides off,      
Hissing along the vale, and after him      
The other talking sputters; but soon turn’d      
His new-grown shoulders on him, and in few      
Thus to another spake: “Along this path           130   
Crawling, as I have done, speed Buoso now!”      
  So saw I fluctuate in successive change      
The unsteady ballast of the seventh hold:      
And here if aught my pen have swerved, events      
So strange may be its warrant. O’er mine eyes           135   
Confusion hung, and on my thoughts amaze.      
  Yet ’scaped they not so covertly, but well      
I mark’d Sciancato: he alone it was      
Of the three first that came, who changed not: tho’      
The other’s fate, Gaville! still dost rue.           140   
    
Note 1. “The practice of thrusting out the thumb between the first and second fingers, to express the feelings of insult and contempt, has prevailed very generally among the nations of Europe, and for many ages had been denominated ‘making the fig,’ or described at least by some equivalent expression.”—Douce’s “Illustrations of Shakespeare,” vol. i. p. 492, ed. 1807 [back]   
Note 2. Capaneus. Canto xiv. [back]   
Note 3. Near the Tuscan shore. [back]   
Note 4. Said to have been of the family of Donati at Florence. [back]   
Note 5. “Agnello.” Agnello Brunelleschi.

Canto XXVI   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—Remounting by the steps, down which they have descended to the seventh gulf, they go forward to the arch that stretches over the eighth, and from thence behold numberless flames wherein are punished the evil counsellors, each flame containing a sinner, save one, in which were Diomede and Ulysses, the latter of whom relates the manner of his death.   
    
    
FLORENCE, exult! for thou so mightily      
Hast thriven, that o’er land and sea thy wings      
Thou beatest, and thy name spreads over hell.      
Among the plunderers, such the three I found      
Thy citizens; whence shame to me thy son,           5   
And no proud honour to thyself redounds.      
  But if our minds, when dreaming near the dawn,      
Are of the truth presageful, thou ere long      
Shalt feel what Prato 1 (not to say the rest)      
Would fain might come upon thee; and that chance           10   
Were in good time, if it befell thee now.      
Would so it were, since it must needs befall!      
For as time wears me, I shall grieve the more.      
  We from the depth departed; and my guide      
Remounting scaled the flinty steps, which late           15   
We downward traced, and drew me up the steep.      
Pursuing thus our solitary way      
Among the crags and splinters of the rock,      
Sped not our feet without the help of hands.      
  Then sorrow seized me, which e’en now revives,           20   
As my thought turns again to what I saw,      
And, more than I am wont, I rein and curb      
The powers of nature in me, lest they run      
Where Virtue guides not; that, if aught of good      
My gentle star or something better gave me,           25   
I envy not myself the precious boon.      
  As in that season, when the sun least veils      
His face that lightens all, what time the fly      
Gives way to the shrill gnat, the peasant then,      
Upon some cliff reclined, beneath him sees           30   
Fire-flies innumerous spangling o’er the vale,      
Vineyard or tilth, where his day-labor lies;      
With flames so numberless throughout its space      
Shone the eighth chasm, apparent, when the depth      
Was to my view exposed. As he, whose wrongs           35   
The bears avenged, as its departure saw      
Elijah’s chariot, when the steeds erect      
Raised their steep flight for heaven; his eyes meanwhile,      
Straining pursued them, till the flame alone,      
Upsoaring like a misty speck, he kenn’d:           40   
E’en thus along the gulf moves every flame,      
A sinner so enfolded close in each,      
That none exhibits token of the theft.      
  Upon the bridge I forward bent to look      
And grasp’d a flinty mass, or else had fallen,           45   
Though push’d not from the height. The guide, who mark’d      
How I did gaze attentive, thus began:      
“Within these ardours are the spirits; each      
Swatched in confining fire.” “Master! thy word,”      
I answer’d, “hath assured me; yet I deem’d           50   
Already of the truth, already wish’d      
To ask thee who is in yon fire, that comes      
So parted at the summit, as it seem’d      
Ascending from that funeral pile 2 where lay      
The Theban brothers.” He replied: “Within,           55   
Ulysses there and Diomede endure      
Their penal tortures, thus to vengeance now      
Together hasting, as erewhile to wrath      
These in the flame with ceaseless groans deplore      
The ambush of the horse, 3 that open’d wide           60   
A portal for the goodly seed to pass,      
Which sow’d imperial Rome; nor less the guile      
Lament they, whence, of her Achilles ’reft,      
Deidamia yet in death complains.      
And there is rued the stratagem that Troy           65   
Of her Palladium spoil’d.”—“If they have power      
Of utterance from within these sparks,” said I,      
“O master! think my prayer a thousand-fold      
In repetition urged, that thou vouchsafe      
To pause till here the horned flame arrive.           70   
See, how toward it with desires I bend.”      
  He thus: “Thy prayer is worthy of much praise,      
And I accept it therefore; but do thou      
Thy tongue refrain: to question them be mine;      
For I divine thy wish: and they perchance,           75   
For they were Greeks, 4 might shun discourse with thee.”      
  When there the flame had come, where time and place      
Seem’d fitting to my guide, he thus began:      
“O ye, who dwell two spirits in one fire!      
If, living, I of you did merit aught,           80   
Whate’er the measure were of that desert,      
When in the world my lofty strain I pour’d,      
Move ye not on, till one of you unfold      
In what clime death o’ertook him self-destroy’d.”      
  Of the old flame forthwith the greater horn           85   
Began to roll, murmuring, as a fire      
That labors with the wind, then to and fro      
Wagging the top, as a tongue uttering sounds,      
Threw out its voice, and spake: “When I escaped      
From Circe, who beyond a circling year           90   
Had held me near Caieta by her charms,      
Ere thus Æneas yet had named the shore;      
Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence      
Of my old father, nor return of love,      
That should have crown’d Penelope with joy,           95   
Could overcome in me the zeal I had      
To explore the world, and search the ways of life,      
Man’s evil and his virtue. Forth I sail’d      
Into the deep illimitable main,      
With but one bark, and the small faithful band           100   
That yet cleaved to me. As Iberia far,      
Far as Marocco, either shore I saw,      
And the Sardinian and each isle beside      
Which round that ocean bathes. Tardy with age      
Were I and my companions, when we came           105   
To the strait pass, 5 where Hercules ordain’d      
The boundaries not to be o’erstepp’d by man.      
The walls of Seville to my right I left,      
On the other hand already Ceuta past.      
‘O brothers!’ I began, ‘who to the west           110   
Through perils without number now have reach’d;      
To this the short remaining watch, that yet      
Our senses have to wake, refuse not proof      
Of the unpeopled world, following the track      
Of Phœbus. Call to mind from whence ye sprang:           115   
Ye were not form’d to live the life of brutes,      
But virtue to pursue and knowledge high.’      
With these few words I sharpen’d for the voyage      
The mind of my associates, that I then      
Could scarcely have withheld them. To the dawn           120   
Our poop we turn’d, and for the witless flight      
Made our oars wings, still gaining on the left.      
Each star of the other pole night now beheld,      
And ours so low, that from the ocean floor      
It rose not. Five times reillumed, as oft           125   
Vanish’d the light from underneath the moon,      
Since the deep way we enter’d, when from far      
Appear’d a mountain dim, 6 loftiest methought      
Of all I e’er beheld. Joy seized us straight;      
But soon to mourning changed. From the new land           130   
A whirlwind sprung, and at her foremost side      
Did strike the vessel. Thrice it whirl’d her round      
With all the waves; the fourth time lifted up      
The poop, and sank the prow: so fate decreed:      
And over us the booming billow closed.” 7           135   
    
Note 1. “Shalt feel what Prato.” The Poet prognosticates the calamities which were soon to befall his native city, and which, he says, even her nearest neighbor, Prato, would wish her. The calamities more particularly pointed at are said to be the fall of a wooden bridge over the Arno, in May, 1304, where a large multitude were assembled to witness a representation of hell and the infernal torments, in consequence of which accident many lives were lost; and a conflagration, that in the following month destroyed more than 1,700 houses. See G. Villani, Hist. lib. viii. c. lxx. and lxxi. [back]   
Note 2. The flame is said to have divided the bodies of Eteocles and Polynices, as if conscious of the enmity that actuated them while living. [back]   
Note 3. The wooden horse that caused Æneas to quit Troy and seek his fortune in Italy, where his descendants founded Rome. [back]   
Note 4. Perhaps implying arrogance. [back]   
Note 5. The Strait of Gibraltar. [back]   
Note 6. The mountain of Purgatory.—Among various opinions respecting the situation of the terrestrial paradise, Peitro Lombardo relates, that “it was separated by a long space, either of sea or land, from the regions inhabited by men, and placed in the ocean, reaching as far as to the luner circle, so that the waters of the deluge did not reach it.”—Sent. lib. ii. dist. 17. [back]   
Note 7. “Closed.” Venturi refers to Pliny and Solinus for the opinion that Ulysses was the founder of Lisbon, from whence he thinks it was easy for the fancy of a poet to send him on yet further enterprises. The story (which it is not unlikely that our author borrowed from some legend of the Middle Ages) may have taken its rise partly from the obscure oracle returned by the ghost of Tiresias to Ulysses (eleventh book of the Odyssey), and partly from the fate which there was reason to suppose had befallen some adventurous explorers of the Atlantic Ocean.

Canto XXVII   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—The Poet, treating of the same punishment as in the last Canto, relates that he turned toward a flame in which was the Count Guido da Montefeltro, whose inquiries respecting the state of Romagna he answers; and Guido is thereby induced to declare who he is, and why condemned to that torment.   
    
    
NOW upward rose the flame, and still’d its light      
To speak no more, and now pass’d on with leave      
From the mild poet gain’d; when following came      
Another, from whose top a sound confused,      
Forth issuing, drew our eyes that way to look.           5   
  As the Sicilian bull, 1 that rightfully      
His cries first echoed who had shaped its mould,      
Did so rebellow, with the voice of him      
Tormented, that the brazen monster seem’d      
Pierced through with pain; thus, while no way they found,           10   
Nor avenue immediate through the flame,      
Into its language turn’d the dismal words:      
But soon as they had won their passage forth,      
Up from the point, which vibrating obey’d      
Their motion at the tongue, these sounds were heard:           15   
“O thou! to whom I now direct my voice,      
That lately didst exclaim in Lombard phrase,      
‘Depart thou; I solicit thee no more;’      
Though somewhat tardy I perchance arrive,      
Let it not irk thee here to pause awhile,           20   
And with me parley: lo! it irks not me,      
And yet I burn. If but e’en now thou fall      
Into this blind world, from that pleasant land      
Of Latium, whence I draw my sum of guilt,      
Tell me if those who in Romagna dwell           25   
Have peace or war. For of the mountains there 2      
Was I, betwixt Urbino and the height      
Whence Tiber first unlocks his mighty flood.”      
  Leaning I listen’d yet with heedful ear,      
When, as he touch’d my side, the leader thus:           30   
“Speak thou: he is a Latian.” My reply      
Was ready, and I spake without delay:      
“O spirit! who art hidden here below,      
Never was thy Romagna without war      
In her proud tyrants’ bosoms, nor is now:           35   
But open war there left I none. The state,      
Ravenna hath maintain’d this many a year,      
Is steadfast. There Polenta’s eagle 3 broods;      
And in his broad circumference of plume      
O’ershadows Cervia. The green talons grasp           40   
The land, 4 that stood erewhile the proof so long      
And piled in bloody heap the host of France.      
  “The old mastiff of Verrucchio and the young, 5      
That tore Montagna 6 in their wrath, still make,      
Where they are wont, an augre of their fangs.           45   
  “Lamone’s city, and Santerno’s, 7 range      
Under the lion of the snowy lair, 8      
Inconstant partisan, that changeth sides,      
Or ever summer yields to winter’s frost.      
And she, whose flank is wash’d of Savio’s wave,  9           50   
As ’twixt the level and the steep she lies,      
Lives so ’twixt tyrant power and liberty.      
  “Now tell us, I entreat thee, who art thou:      
Be not more hard than others. In the world,      
So may thy name still rear its forehead high.”           55   
  Then roar’d awhile the fire, its sharpen’d point      
On either side waved, and thus breathed at last:      
“If I did think my answer were to one      
Who ever could return unto the world,      
This flame should rest unshaken. But since ne’er,           60   
If true be told me, any from this depth      
Has found his upward way, I answer thee,      
Nor fear lest infamy record the words.      
  “A man of arms 10 at first, I clothed me then      
In good Saint Francis’ girdle, hoping so           65   
To have made amends. And certainly my hope      
Had fail’d not, but that he, whom curses light on,      
The high priest,  11 again seduced me into sin.      
And how, and wherefore, listen while I tell.      
Long as this spirit moved the bones and pulp           70   
My mother gave me, less my deeds bespake      
The nature of the lion than the fox.      
All ways of winding subtlety I knew,      
And with such art conducted, that the sound      
Reach’d the world’s limit. Soon as to that part           75   
Of life I found me come, and when each behoves      
To lower sails and gather in the lines;      
That, which before had pleased me, then I rued,      
And to repentance and confession turn’d,      
Wretch that I was; and well it had bestead me.           80   
The chief of the new Pharisees 1212 meantime,      
Waging his warfare near the Lateran,      
Not with the Saracens or Jews (his foes      
All Christians were, nor against Acre one      
Had fought, 13 nor traffick’d in the Soldan’s land),           85   
He, his great charge nor sacred ministry,      
In himself reverenced, nor in me that cord      
Which used to mark with leanness whom it girded.      
As in Soracte, Constantine besought,      
To cure his leprosy, Sylvester’s aid;           90   
So me, to cure the fever of his pride,      
This man besought: my counsel to that end      
He ask’d; and I was silent; for his words      
Seem’d drunken: but forthwith he thus resumed:      
‘From thy heart banish fear: of all offence           95   
I hitherto absolve thee. In return,      
Teach me my purpose so to execute,      
That Penestrino cumber earth no more.      
Heaven, as thou knowest, I have power to shut      
And open: and the keys are therefore twain,           100   
The which my predecessor 14 meanly prized.’      
  “Then, yielding to the forceful arguments,      
Of silence, as more perilous I deem’d,      
And answer’d: ‘Father! since thou washest me      
Clear of that guilt wherein I now must fall,           105   
Large promise with performance scant, be sure,      
Shall make thee triumph in thy lofty seat.’      
  “When I was number’d with the dead, then came      
Saint Francis for me; but a cherub dark      
He met, who cried, ‘Wrong me not; he is mine,           110   
And must below to join the wretched crew,      
For the deceitful counsel which he gave.      
E’er since I watch’d him, hovering at his hair.      
No power can the impenitent absolve;      
Nor to repent, and will, at once consist,           115   
By contradiction absolute forbid.’      
Oh misery! how I shook myself, when he      
Seized me, and cried, “Thou haply thought’st me not      
A disputant in logic so exact!’      
To Minos down he bore me; and the judge           120   
Twined eight times round his callous back the tail,      
Which biting with excess of rage, he spake:      
‘This is a guilty soul, that in the fire      
Must vanish.’ Hence, perdition-doom’d, I rove      
A prey to rankling sorrow, in this garb.”           125   
  When he had thus fulfill’d his words, the flame      
In dolour parted, beating to and fro,      
And writhing its sharp horn. We onward went,      
I and my leader, up along the rock,      
Far as another arch, that overhangs           130   
The foss, wherein the penalty is paid      
Of those who load them with committed sin.      
    
Note 1. The engine of torture invented by Perillus, for the tyrant Phalaris. [back]   
Note 2. Montefeltro. [back]   
Note 3. Polenta’s eagle.” Guido Novello da Polenta, who bore an eagle for his coat-of-arms. The name of Polenta was derived from a castle so called in the neighborhood of Brittonoro. Cervia is a small maritime city, about fifteen miles to the south of Ravenna. Guido was the son of Ostasio da Polenta, and made himself master of Ravenna in 1265. In 1322 he was deprived of his sovereignty, and died at Bologna in 1323. This last and most munificent patron of Dante is enumerated among the poets of his time. [back]   
Note 4. The territory of Forli, the inhabitants of which, in 1282, were enabled, by the stratagem of Guido da Montefeltro, the governor, to defeat the French army by which it had been besieged. See G. Villani, lib. vii. c. lxxxi. The Poet informs Guido, its former ruler, that it is now in the possession of Sinibaldo Ordolaffi, whom he designates by his coat-of-arms, a lion vert. [back]   
Note 5. Malatesta and Malatestino his son, lords of Rimini, called from their ferocity, the mastiffs of Verrucchio, which was the name of their castle. Malatestino was, perhaps, the husband of Francesca, daughter of Guido da Polenta. See notes to Canto v. 113. [back]   
Note 6. Montagna de’ Parcitati, a noble and leader of the Ghibelline party at Rimini, murdered by Malatestino. [back]   
Note 7. Lamone is the river at Faenza, and Santerno at Imola. [back]   
Note 8. Machinardo Pagano, whose arms were a lion azure on a field argent. See also Purgatory, Canto xiv. 122. [back]   
Note 9. Cesena, situated at the foot of a mountain, and washed by the river Savio, that often descends with a swollen and rapid stream from the Apennines. [back]   
Note 10. Guido da Montefeltro. [back]   
Note 11. Boniface VIII. [back]   
Note 12. Boniface, VIII, whose enmity to the family of Colonna prompted him to destroy their houses near the Lateran. Wishing to obtain possession of their other seat, Penestrino, he consulted with Guido da Montefeltro, offering him absolution for his past sins, as well as for that which he was then tempting him to commit. Guido’s advice was that kind words and fair promises would put his enemies into his power; and they accordingly soon afterward fell into the snare laid for them, 1298. [back]   
Note 13. Alluding to the renegade Christians, by whom the Saracens, in April, 1291, were assisted to recover St. John d’Acre, the last possession of the Christians in the Holy Land. [back]   
Note 14. Celestine V. See notes to Canto iii.

Canto XXVIII   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—They arrive in the ninth gulf, where the sowers of scandal, schismatics, and heretics, are seen with their limbs maimed or divided in different ways. Among these the Poet finds Mohammed, Piero da Medicina, Curio, Mosca, and Bertrand de Born.   
    
    
WHO, e’en in words unfetter’d, might at full      
Tell of the wounds and blood that now I saw,      
Though he repeated oft the tale? No tongue      
So vast a theme could equal, speech and thought      
Both impotent alike. If in one band           5   
Collected, stood the people all, who e’er      
Pour’d on Apulia’s happy soil their blood,      
Slain by the Trojans, and in that long war, 1      
When of the rings the measured booty made      
A pile so high, as Rome’s historian writes           10   
Who errs not; with the multitude, that felt      
The griding force of Guiscard’s Norman steel,  2      
And those the rest, 3 whose bones are gather’d yet      
At Ceperano, there where treachery      
Branded the Apulian name, or where beyond           15   
Thy walls, O Tagliacozzo, 4 without arms      
The old Alardo conquer’d; and his limbs      
One were to show transpierced, another his      
Clean lopt away; a spectacle like this      
Were but a thing of naught, to the hideous sight           20   
Of the ninth chasm. A rundlet, that hath lost      
Its middle or side stave, gapes not so wide      
As one I mark’d, torn from the chin throughout      
Down to the hinder passage: ’twixt the legs      
Dangling his entrails hung, the midriff lay           25   
Open to view, and wretched ventricle,      
That turns the englutted aliment to dross.      
  Whilst eagerly I fix on him my gaze,      
He eyed me, with his hands laid his breast bare,      
And cried, “Now mark how I do rip me: lo!           30   
How is Mohammed mangled: before me      
Walks Ali 55 weeping, from the chin his face      
Cleft to the forelock; and the others all,      
Whom here thou seest, while they lived, did sow      
Scandal and schism, and therefore thus are rent.           35   
A fiend is here behind, who with his sword      
Hacks us thus cruelly, slivering again      
Each of this ream, when we have compast round      
The dismal way; for first our gashes close      
Ere we repass before him. But, say who           40   
Art thou, that standest musing on the rock,      
Haply so lingering to delay the pain      
Sentenced upon thy crimes.” “Him death not yet,”      
My guide rejoin’d, “hath overta’en, nor sin      
Conducts to torment; but, that he may make           45   
Full trial of your state, I who am dead      
Must through the depths of Hell, from orb to orb      
Conduct him. Trust my words; for they are true.”      
  More than a hundred spirits, when that they heard,      
Stood in the foss to mark me through amaze           50   
Forgetful of their pangs. “Thou, who perchance      
Shalt shortly view the sun, this warning thou      
Bear to Dolcino: 6 bid him, if he wish not      
Here soon to follow me, that with good store      
Of food he arm him, lest imprisoning snows           55   
Yield him a victim to Novara’s power;      
No easy conquest else”: with foot upraised      
For stepping, spake Mohammed, on the ground      
Then fix’d it to depart. Another shade,      
Pierced in the throat, his nostrils mutilate           60   
E’en from beneath the eyebrows, and one ear      
Lopt off, who, with the rest, through wonder stood      
Gazing, before the rest advanced, and bared      
His wind-pipe, that without was all o’ersmear’d      
With crimson stain. “O thou!” said he, “whom sin           65   
Condemns not, and whom erst (unless too near      
Resemblance do deceive me) I aloft      
Have seen on Latian ground, call thou to mind      
Piero of Medicina, 7 if again      
Returning, thou behold’st the pleasant land 88           70   
That from Vercelli slopes to Marcabo;      
And there instruct the twain, 9 whom Fano boasts      
Her worthiest sons, Guido and Angelo,      
That if ’tis given us here to scan aright      
The future, they out of life’s tenement           75   
Shall be cast forth, and whelm’d under the waves      
Near to Cattolica, through perfidy      
Of a fell tyrant. ’Twixt the Cyprian isle      
And Balearic, ne’er hath Neptune seen      
An injury so foul, by pirates done,           80   
Or Argive crew of old. That one-eyed traitor      
(Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain      
His eye had still lack’d sight of) them shall bring      
To conference with him, then so shape his end      
That they shall need not ’gainst Focara’s wind  10           85   
Offer up vow nor prayer.” I answering thus:      
“Declare, as thou dost wish that I above      
May carry tidings of thee, who is he,      
In whom that sight doth wake such sad remembrance.”      
  Forthwith he laid his hand on the cheek-bone           90   
Of one, his fellow-spirit, and his jaws      
Expanding, cried: “Lo! this is he I wot of:      
He speaks not for himself: the outcast this,      
Who overwhelm’d the doubt in Cæsar’s mind,  11      
Affirming that delay to men prepared           95   
Was ever harmful.” Oh! how terrified      
Methought was Curio, from whose throat was cut      
The tongue, which spake that hardy word. Then one,      
Maim’d of each hand, uplifted in the gloom      
The bleeding stumps, that they with gory spots           100   
Sullied his face, and cried: “Remember thee      
Of Mosca 12 too; I who, alas! exclaim’d,      
‘The deed once done, there is an end,’ that proved      
A seed of sorrow to the Tuscan race.”      
  I added: “Ay, and death to thine own tribe.”           105   
  Whence, heaping woe on woe, he hurried off,      
As one grief-stung to madness. But I there      
Still linger’d to behold the troop, and saw      
Thing, such as I may fear without more proof      
To tell of, but that conscience makes me firm,           110   
The boon companion, who her strong breastplate      
Buckles on him, that feels no guilt within,      
And bids him on and fear not. Without doubt      
I saw, and yet it seems to pass before me,      
A headless trunk, that even as the rest           115   
Of the sad flock paced onward. By the hair      
It bore the sever’d member, lantern-wise      
Pendent in hand, which look’d at us, and said,      
“Woe’s me!” The spirit lighted thus himself;      
And two there were in one, and one in two.           120   
How that may be, he knows who ordereth so.      
  When at the bridge’s foot direct he stood,      
His arm aloft he rear’d, thrusting the head      
Full in our view, that nearer we might hear      
The words, which thus it utter’d: “Now behold           125   
This grievous torment, thou, who breathing go’st      
To spy the dead: behold, if any else      
Be terrible as this. And, that on earth      
Thou mayst bear tidings of me, know that I      
Am Bertrand,  13 he of Born, who gave King John           130   
The counsel mischievous. Father and son      
I set at mutual war. For Absalom      
And David more did not Ahitophel,      
Spurring them on maliciously to strife.      
For parting those so closely knit, my brain           135   
Parted, alas! I carry from its source,      
That in this trunk inhabits. Thus the law      
Of retribution fiercely works in me.”      
    
Note 1. The war of Hannibal in Italy. [back]   
Note 2. Robert Guiscard, conqueror of Naples, died 1110. See Paradise, Canto xviii. [back]   
Note 3. The army of Manfredi, which, through the treachery of the Apulian troops, was overcome by Charles of Anjou in 1265. See the Purgatory, Canto iii. [back]   
Note 4. “O Tagliacozzo.” He alludes to the victory which Charles gained over Conradino, by the sage advice of the Sieur de Valeri, in 1268. [back]   
Note 5. The disciple of Mohammed. [back]   
Note 6. “Dolcino.” In 1305, a friar, called Dolcino, who belonged to no regular order, contrived to raise in Novara, in Lombardy, a large company of the meaner sort of people, declaring himself to be a true apostle of Christ and promulgating a community of property and of wives, with many other such heretical doctrines. He blamed the Pope, cardinals, and other prelates of the holy Church, for not observing their duty, nor leading the angelic life, and affirmed that he ought to be pope. He was followed by more than three thousand men and women, who lived promiscuously on the mountains together, like beasts, and, when they wanted provisions, supplied themselves by depredation and rapine. After two years, many were struck with compunction at the dissolute life they led, and his sect was much diminished; and, through failure of food and the severity of the snows, he was taken by the people of Novara, and burnt, with Margarita, his companion, and many others, whom he had seduced. [back]   
Note 7. “Medicina.” A place in the territory of Bologna. Piero fomented dissensions among the inhabitants of that city, and among the leaders of the neighboring states. [back]   
Note 8. Lombardy. [back]   
Note 9. “The twain.” Guido del Cassero and Angiolello da Cagnano, two of the worthiest and most distinguished citizens of Fano, were invited by Malatestino da Rimini to an entertainment, on pretence that he had some important business to transact with them; and, according to instructions given by him, they were drowned in their passage near Cattolica, between Rimini and Fano. [back]   
Note 10. “Focara’s wind.” Focara is a mountain, from which a wind blows that is peculiarly dangerous to the navigators of that coast. [back]   
Note 11. “The doubt in Cæsar’s mind.” Curio, whose speech (according to Lucan) determined Julius Cæsar to proceed when he had arrived at Rimini (the ancient Ariminum), and doubted whether he should prosecute the civil war. [back]   
Note 12. “Mosca.” Buondelmonte was engaged to marry a lady of the Amidei family, but broke his promise, and united himself to one of the Donati. This was so much resented by the former, that a meeting of themselves and their kinsmen was held, to consider of the best means of revenging the insult. Mosca degli Uberti, or de’ Lamberti, persuaded them to resolve on the assassination of Buondelmonte, exclaiming to them, “the thing once done, there is an end.” This counsel and its effects were the source of many terrible calamities to the State of Florence. “This murder,” says G. Villani, lib. v. cap. xxxviii, “was the cause and beginning of the accursed Guelf and Ghibelline parties in Florence.” It happened in 1215. See the Paradise, Canto xvi. 139. [back]   
Note 13. “Bertrand.” Bertrand de Born, Vicomte de Hautefort, near Perigueux in Guienne, who incited John to rebel against his father, Henry II of England. Bertrand holds a distinguished place among the Provençal poets.