The Divine Comedy
Cantos XXII-XXVIII
Inferno Canto XXII:1-30 The Poets view more
of the Fifth Chasm
Inferno Canto
XXII:31-75 Ciampolo
Inferno Canto
XXII:76-96 Ciampolo names other Barrators
Inferno Canto
XXII:97-123 Ciampolo breaks free of the Demons
Inferno Canto
XXII:124-151 The Malebranche quarrel
Inferno Canto
XXIII:1-57 The Sixth Chasm: The Hypocrites
Inferno Canto
XXIII:58-81 The Hypocrites
Inferno Canto
XXIII:82-126 The Frauti Gaudenti: Caiaphas
Inferno Canto
XXIII:127-148 The Poets leave the Sixth Chasm
Inferno Canto
XXIV:1-60 The Poets climb up: Virgil exhorts Dante
Inferno Canto
XXIV:61-96 The Seventh Chasm: The Thieves
Inferno Canto
XXIV:97-129 Vanni Fucci and the serpent
Inferno Canto
XXIV:130-151 Vanni Fucci’s prophecy
Inferno Canto
XXV:34-78 Cianfa and Agnello
Inferno Canto
XXV:79-151 Buoso degli Abati and Francesco
Inferno Canto
XXVI:1-42 The Eighth Chasm: The Evil Counsellors
Inferno Canto
XXVI:43-84 Ulysses and Diomede
Inferno Canto
XXVI:85-142 Ulysses’s last voyage
Inferno Canto
XXVII:1-30 Guido Da Montefeltro.
Inferno Canto
XXVII:31-57 The situation in Romagna
Inferno Canto
XXVII:58-136 Guido’s history
Inferno Canto
XXVIII:1-21 The Ninth Chasm: The Sowers of Discord
Inferno Canto
XXVIII:22-54 Mahomet: the Caliph Ali
Inferno Canto
XXVIII:55-90 Pier della Medicina and others
Inferno Canto
XXVIII:91-111 Curio and Mosca
Inferno Canto
XXVIII:112-142 Bertrand de Born.
I have
seen cavalry moving camp, before now, starting a foray, holding muster, and
now and then retiring to escape; I have seen war-horses on your territory, O
Aretines, and seen the foraging parties, the clash of tournaments, and repeated
jousts; now with trumpets, now with bells, with drums and rampart signals, with
native and foreign devices, but I never yet saw infantry or cavalry, or ship at
sight of shore or star, move to such an obscene trumpet.
We went with the ten demons: ah, savage
company! But, they say: ‘In church with the saints, and in the inn with the
drunkards.’ But my mind was on the boiling pitch, to see each feature of the
chasm, and the people who were burning in it. Like dolphins, arching their
backs, telling the sailors to get ready to save their ship, so, now and then,
to ease the punishment, some sinner showed his back, and hid as quick as
lightning.
And as frogs squat, at the edge of the
ditchwater, with only mouths showing, so that their feet and the rest of them
are hidden, so the sinners stood on every side: but they instantly shot beneath
the seething, as Barbariccia
approached.
I saw, and my heart still shudders at it,
one linger, just as one frog remains when the others scatter: and Graffiacane, who was nearest him, hooked
his pitchy hair, and hauled him up, looking, to me, like an otter. I already
knew the names of every demon, so I noted them well as they were called, and
when they shouted to each other, listened out.
‘O Rubicante,
see you get your clutches in him, and flay him,’ all the accursed tribe cried
together. And I: ‘Master, make out if you can, who that wretch is, who has
fallen into the hands of his enemies.’ My guide drew close to him, and asked
him where he came from, and he answered: ‘I
was born in the kingdom of Navarre. My mother placed me as a servant to a
lord, since she had borne me to a scurrilous waster of himself and his
possessions. Then I was of the household of good King Thibaut, and there I took to selling
offices, for which I serve my sentence in this heat.’
And Ciriatto,
from whose mouth a tusk, like a boar’s, projected on each side, made him feel
how one of them could rip. The mouse had come among the evil cats: but Barbariccia caught him in his arms, and
said: ‘Stand back, while I fork him!’ And, turning to my Master, he said: ‘Ask
away, if you want to learn more from him, before someone else gets at him.’
So my guide said: ‘Now say, do you know
any of the other sinners under the boiling pitch that is a Latian?’ And Ciampolo replied: ‘I separated, just now,
from one who was a neighbour of theirs over there, and I wish I were still
beneath him, since I should not then fear claw or hook!’ And Libicocco cried: ‘We have endured this
too long!’ and grappled Ciampolo’s arm with the prong, and, mangling it,
carried away a chunk. Draghignazzo,
too, wanted a swipe at the legs, below: at which their leader twisted round and
round on them with an evil frown.
When they had settled a little, without
waiting, my guide asked Ciampolo, who
was still gazing at his wound: ‘Who was he, from whom you say you unluckily
separated, to come on land?’ He replied: ‘It was Friar Gomita, he of Gallura, in Sardinia, the
vessel of every fraud, who held his master’s prisoners in his hands, and
treated them so that they all praise him for it, taking money for himself, and
letting them go, quietly: and in his other roles, he was a high, and not a low,
barrator.
With him, Don Michel Zanche of Logodoro, keeps
company, and their tongues never tire of speaking of Sardinia. O me! See that
other demon grinning: I would speak more, but I fear he is getting ready to
claw my skin.’ And their great captain, turning to Farfarello, who was rolling his eyes to
strike, said: ‘Away with you, cursed bird.’
The scared sinner then resumed: ‘If you
want to see or hear Tuscans or Lombards, I will make them come, but let the
Malebranche hold back a little, so that the others may not feel their
vengeance, and sitting here, I, who am one, will make seven appear, by
whistling, as we do, when any of us gets out.’ Cagnazzo raised his snout, at these words,
and, shaking his head, said: ‘Hear the wicked scheme he has contrived to plunge
back down.’ At which Ciampolo, who had a
great store of tricks, replied: ‘I would be malicious indeed, if I contrived
greater sorrow for my companions.’
Alichino,
could contain himself no longer, and contrary to the others said to him: ‘If
you run, I will not charge after you, but beat my wings above the boiling
pitch: forget the cliff, and let the bank be a course, and see if you alone can
beat us.’ O you that read this, hear of this new sport! They all glanced
towards the cliff side, he above all who had been most unwilling for this. The
Navarrese picked his moment well, planted his feet on the ground, and in an
instant plunged, and freed himself from their intention.
Each of the demons was stung with guilt,
but Alichino most who had caused the
error: so he started up and shouted: ‘You are caught!’ But it helped him
little, since wings could not outrun terror: the sinner dived down: and
Alichino, flying, lifted his breast. The duck dives like that when the falcon
nears, and the hawk flies back up, angry and thwarted.
Calcabrina,
furious at the trick, flew on after him, wanting the sinner to escape, in order
to quarrel. And when the barrator had vanished, he turned his claws on his
friend, and grappled with him above the ditch. But the other was sparrow hawk
enough to claw him thoroughly, and both dropped down, into the centre of the
boiling pond.
The heat, instantly, separated them, but
they could not rise, their wings were so glued up. Barbariccia, lamenting with the rest,
made four fly over to the other bank, with all their grappling irons, and they
dropped rapidly on both sides to the shore. They stretched their hooks out to
the trapped pair, who were already scaled by the crust, and we left them, like
that, embroiled.
Silent, alone, and free of company, we
went on, one in front, and the other after, like minor friars journeying on
their way. My thoughts were turned, by the recent quarrel, to Aesop’s fable of the frog and mouse, since
‘Si’ and ‘Yes’ are not better matched, than the one case with the other, if the
thoughtful mind couples the beginning and end.
And as one thought springs from another,
so another sprang from that, redoubling my fear. I thought of this: ‘Through
us, these are mocked, and with a kind of hurt and ridicule, that I guess must
annoy them. If anger is added to their malice, they will chase after us,
fiercer than snapping dogs that chase a leveret.’ I felt my hair already
lifting in fright, and was looking back intently, as I said: ‘Master, if you do
not hide us both, quickly, I am afraid of the Malebranche: they are already
behind us: I imagine I can hear them now.’
And he: ‘If I were made of silvered glass,
I could not take up your image from outside more rapidly than I fix that image
from within. Even now your thoughts were entering mine, with similar form and
action, so that, from both, I have made one decision. If the right bank slopes
enough, that we can drop down, into the next chasm, we will escape this
imaginary pursuit.’ he had not finished stating this resolve, when I saw them,
not far off, coming with extended wings, with desire to seize us.
My guide suddenly took me up like a
mother, wakened by a noise, seeing flames burning in front of her eyes, who
takes her child and runs, and caring more about him than herself, does not even
wait to look around her. Down from the ridge of the solid bank, he threw
himself forward on to the hanging cliff that dams up the side of the next
chasm. Water never ran as fast through the conduit, turning a mill-wheel on
land, when it reaches the paddles, as my Master, down that bank, carrying me,
against his breast, like a son, and not a companion.
His feet had hardly touched the floor, of
the depth below, before the demons were on the heights above us, but it gave
him no fear, since the high Providence, that willed them to be the guardians of
the fifth moat, takes, from all of them, the power to leave it.
Down below we found a metal-coated tribe,
weeping, circling with very slow steps, and weary and defeated in their aspect.
They had cloaks, with deep hoods over the eyes, in the shape they make for the
monks of Cologne. On the outside they are gilded so it dazzles, but inside all
leaden, and so heavy, that compared to them Frederick’s were made of straw.
O weary mantle for eternity! We turned to
the left again, beside them, who were intent on their sad weeping, but those
people, tired by their burden, came on so slowly that our companions were new
at every step. At which, I said to my guide: ‘Make a search for someone known
to us, by name or action, and gaze around as we move by.’ And one of them, who
understood the Tuscan language, called after us: ‘Rest your feet, you who speed
so fast through the dark air, maybe you will get from me what you request.’ At
which my guide turned round and said: ‘Wait, and then go on, at his pace.’
I stood still, and saw two spirits, who
were eager in mind to join me, but their burden and the narrow path delayed
them. When they arrived, they eyed me askance, for a long time, without
speaking a word, then they turned to one another and said: ‘This one seems
alive, by the movement of his throat, and if they are dead, by what grace are
they moving, free of the heavy cloaks?’
Then they said to me: ‘O Tuscan, you have
come to the college of sad hypocrites: do not scorn to tell us who you are.’
And I to them: ‘I was born, and I grew up, by Arno’s lovely river, in the great
city: and I am in the body I have always worn. But you, who are you, from whom
such sadness is distilled, that I see, coursing down your cheeks? And what
punishment is this, that glitters so?’ And one of them replied: ‘Our orange mantles
are of such dense lead, that weights made of it cause the scales to creak.
We were Fraudi Gaudenti, of that Bolognese
order called the ‘Jovial Friars’: I am Catalano,
and he is Loderingo, chosen by your
city, as usually only one is chosen, to keep the peace: and we wrought such as
still appears round your district of Gardingo. ‘O Friars, your evil ....’ I
began, but said no more, because one came in sight, crucified, on the ground,
with three stakes. When he saw me he writhed all over, puffing into his beard,
and sighing, and Friar Catalano, who saw this, said to me: ‘That one you look
at, who is transfixed, is Caiaphas, the
high priest, who counselled the Pharisees, that it was right to martyr one man
for the sake of the people. Crosswise and naked he lies in the road, as you
see, and feels the weight of everyone who passes: and his father-in-law Annas is racked, in this chasm, and the others
of that Council, that was a source of evil to the Jews.’
Then I saw Virgil wonder at him, stretched
out on the cross, so vilely, in eternal exile.
He addressed these words to the Friars,
afterwards: ‘If it is lawful for you, may it not displease you, to tell us if
there is any gap on the right, by which we might leave here, without forcing
any of the black angels to come and extricate us from this deep.’ He replied:
‘There is a causeway that runs from the great circular wall and crosses all the
cruel valleys, nearer at hand than you think, except that it is broken here and
does not cover this one: you will be able to climb up among its ruins, that
slope down the side, and form a mound at the base.’
Virgil stood, for a while, with bowed
head, then said: ‘Malacoda, who
grapples sinners over there, told us the way wrongly.’ And the Friar said: ‘I
once heard the Devil’s vices related at Bologna, amongst which I heard that he
is a liar, and the father of lies.’ Then my guide went striding on, his face
somewhat disturbed by anger, at which I parted from the burdened souls, following
the prints of his beloved feet.
In that part of the new year, when the sun cools his rays under Aquarius, and the nights already shorten towards the equinox; when the hoar-frost copies its white sister the snow’s, image on the ground, but the hardness of its tracery lasts only a little time; the peasant, whose fodder is exhausted, rises and looks out, and sees the fields all white, at which he strikes his thigh, goes back into the house, and wanders to and fro, lamenting, like a wretch who does not know what to do; then comes out again, and regains hope, seeing how the world has changed its aspect, in a moment; and takes his crook, and chases his lambs out to feed; so the Master made me disheartened, when I saw his forehead so troubled: but the plaster arrived quickly for the wound.
For, when we reached the shattered arch, my guide turned to me with that sweet aspect, that I first saw at the base of the mountain. He opened his arms, after having made some plan in his mind, first looking carefully at the ruin, and took hold of me. And like one who prepares and calculates, always seeming to provide in advance, so he, lifting me up towards the summit of one big block, searched for another fragment, saying: ‘Now clamber over that, but check first if it will carry you.’
It was no route for one clothed in a cloak of lead, since we could hardly climb from rock to rock, he weighing little, and I pushed from behind. And if the ascent were not shorter on that side than on the other, I would truly have been defeated, I do not know about him. But as Malebolge all drops towards the entrance to the lowest well, the position of every valley implies that the one side rises, and the other falls: at last, we came, however, to the point at which the last boulder ends.
The breath was so driven from my lungs, when I was up, that I could go no further: in fact, I sat down when I arrived. The Master said: ‘Now, you must free yourself from sloth: men do not achieve fame, sitting on down, or under coverlets; fame, without which whoever consumes his life leaves only such trace of himself, on earth, as smoke does in the air, or foam on water: so rise, and overcome weariness with spirit, that wins every battle, if it does not lie down with the gross body. A longer ladder must be climbed: to have left these behind is not enough: if you understand me, act now so it may profit you.’
I rose then, showing myself to be better filled with breath than I thought, and said: ‘Go on, I am strong again and ardent.’
We made our way along the causeway, which
was rugged, narrow, difficult, and much steeper than before. I went, speaking,
so that I might not seem weak, at which a voice came from the next moat,
inadequate for forming words. I do not know what it said, though I was already
on the summit of the bridge that crosses there, but he who spoke seemed full of
anger. I had turned to look downwards, but my living eyes could not see the
floor, for the darkness, so that I said: ‘Master, make sure you get to the
other side, and let us climb down the wall, since as I hear sounds from below,
but do not understand them, so I see down there, and make out nothing.’ He said:
‘I make you no answer, but by action, since a fair request should be followed,
in silence, by the work.’
We went down the bridge, at the head of
it, where it meets the eighth bank, and then the seventh chasm was open to me.
I saw a fearful mass of snakes inside, and of such strange appearance, that
even now the memory freezes my blood. Let Libya no longer vaunt its sands: though it engenders chelydri, and jaculi;
pareae; and cenchres with amphisbaena; it never showed pests so numerous or
dreadful, nor did Ethiopia, nor Arabia, the land that lies along the Red Sea.
Amongst this cruel and mournful swarm, people were running, naked and
terrified, without hope of concealment, or of that stone, the heliotrope, that
renders the wearer invisible.
They had their hands tied behind them,
with serpents, that fixed their head and tail between the loins, and were
coiled in knots in front.
And see, a serpent struck at one who was
near our bank, and transfixed him, there, where the neck is joined to the
shoulders. Neither ‘o’ nor ‘i’ was ever written as swiftly as he
took fire, and burned, and dropped down, transformed to ashes: and after he was
heaped on the ground, the powder gathered itself together, and immediately
returned to its previous shape. So, great sages say, the phoenix dies, and then
renews, when it nears its five-hundredth year. In its life it does not eat
grass or grain, but only tears of incense, and amomum: and its last shroud is
nard and myrrh.
The sinner when he rose was like one who
falls, and does not know how, through the power of a demon that drags
him down to the ground, or through some other affliction that binds men, and,
when he rises, gazes round himself, all dazed by the great anguish he has
suffered, and as he gazes, sighs. O how heavy the power of God, that showers
down such blows in vengeance!
The guide then asked him who he was, at
which he answered: ‘I rained down from Tuscany into this gully, a short while
back. Brutish, not human, life pleased me, mule that I was: I am Vanni Fucci, the wild beast, and Pistoia was
a fitting den for me.’ And I to the guide: ‘Tell him not to move: and ask what
crime sank him down here, since I knew him as a man of blood and anger.
And the sinner, who heard me, did not
pretend, but turned his face and mind on me, and gave a look of saddened shame.
Then he said: ‘It hurts me more for you to catch me, trapped, in the misery you
see me in, than the moment of my being snatched from the other life. I cannot
deny you what you ask. I am placed so deep down because I robbed the sacristy
of its fine treasures, and it was once wrongly attributed to others. But, so
that you might not take joy from this sight if you ever escape the gloomy
regions, open your ears, and hear what
I declare:
Pistoia first is thinned of Blacks: then
Florence changes her people and her laws. Mars brings a vapour, from Valdimagra
cloaked in turbid cloud, and a battle will be fought on the field of Piceno, in
an angry and eager tempest, that will suddenly tear the mist open, so that
every White is wounded by it. And I have said this to give you pain.’
At the end of his speech, the thief raised
his hands, both making the fig, the obscene gesture, with thumb between
fingers, shouting: ‘Take this, God, I aim it at you.’ From that moment the
snakes were my friends, since one of them coiled itself round his neck, as if
hissing: ‘You will not be able to speak again.’ Another, round his arms, tied
him again, knotting itself so firmly in front, that he could not even shake
them.
Ah, Pistoia, Pistoia, why do you not order
yourself to be turned to ash, so that you may remain no longer, since you outdo
your seed in evil-doing? I saw no spirit so arrogant towards God, through all
the dark circles of the Inferno, not even, Capaneus,
he who fell from the wall at Thebes.
Vanni Fucci fled, saying not another word, and I saw a Centaur, full of
rage, come, shouting: ‘Where is he, where is the bitter one?’
I do not believe Maremma has as many
snakes, as he had on his haunches, there, where the human part begins. Over his
shoulders, behind the head, lay a dragon with outstretched wings, and it
scorches every one he meets. My Master said: ‘That is Cacus, who often made a lake of blood, below
the rocks of Mount Aventine. He does not go with his brothers on the same road,
above, because of his cunning theft from the great herd of oxen, pastured near
him: for which his thieving actions ended, under the club of Hercules, who gave him a hundred blows
perhaps with it, and he did not feel a tenth.
While he said this, the Centaur ran past,
and three spirits came by, also, beneath us, whom neither I, nor my guide, saw,
until they cried: ‘Who are you?’ Our words ceased, then, and we gave our
attention to them, alone.
I did not know them, but it happened, as
it usually does for some reason, that one had to call the other, saying: ‘Where
has Cianfa gone?’ At which I placed
my finger over my mouth, in order to make my guide stop and wait.
Reader, if you are slow to credit, now,
what I have to tell, it will be no wonder, since I who saw it, scarcely credit
it myself. While I kept looking at them, a six-footed serpent darted in front
of one of them, and fastened itself on him, completely. It clasped his belly
with it middle feet, seized his arms with the front ones, and then fixed its
teeth in both his cheeks. The rear feet it stretched along his thighs, and put
its tail between them, and curled it upwards round his loins, behind.
Ivy was never rooted to a tree,
as the foul monster twined its limbs around the other. Then they clung
together, as if they were melted wax, and mixed their colours: neither the one
nor the other seemed what it had at first: just as in front of the flame on
burning paper, a brown colour appears, not yet black, and the white is
consumed.
The other two looked on, and each cried:
‘Ah me, Agnello, how you change!
See, you are already not two, not one!’ The two heads had now become one, where
two forms seemed to us merged in one face, and both were lost. Two limbs were
made of the four forearms, the thighs, legs, belly and chest became such
members as were never seen before. The former shape was all extinguished in
them: the perverse image seemed both, and neither, and like that it moved away
with slow steps.
As the lizard, in the great heat of the
Dog days, appears like a flash of lightning, scurrying from hedge to hedge, if it
crosses the track, so a little reptile
came towards the bellies of the other two, burning with rage, black and livid
as peppercorn. And it pierced that part, in one of them, where we first receive
our nourishment from our mothers: then fell down, stretched out in front of
him. The thief, transfixed, gazed at it but said nothing, but with motionless
feet, only yawned, as if sleep or fever had overcome him. He looked at the
snake: it looked at him: the one gave out smoke, violently, from his wound, the
other from its mouth, and the smoke met.
Let Lucan now be silent, about Sabellus and Nasidius, and wait to hear that which I
now tell. Let Ovid be silent about Cadmus and Arethusa:
if he in poetry changes one into a snake, and the other into a fountain, I do
not envy him, since he never transmuted two natures, face to face, so that both
forms were eager to exchange their substance.
They merged together in such a way, that
the serpent split its tail into a fork, and the wounded spirit brought his feet
together. Along with them, the legs and thighs, so stuck to one another, that
soon the join left no visible mark. The cleft tail took on the form lost in the
other, and its skin grew soft, the other’s hard. I saw the arms enter the
armpits: and the two feet of the beast that were short, lengthened themselves
by as much as the arms were shortened. Then the two hind feet twisted together,
and became the organ that a man conceals, and the wretch, from his, had two
pushed out.
While the smoke covers them both with a
new colour, and generates hair on one part, and strips it from another, the one
rose up, erect, and the other fell, prostrate: not by that shifting their
impious gaze, beneath which they mutually exchanged features. The erect one
drew his face towards the temples, and from the excess of matter that swelled
there, ears came, out of the smooth cheeks. That which did not slip back, but
remained, formed a nose from the superfluous flesh, and enlarged the lips to
their right size. He that lay prone, thrust his sharpened visage forward, and
drew his ears back into his head, as the snail does its horns into its shell,
and his tongue, which was solid before, and fit for speech, splits itself. In
the other the forked tongue melds, and the smoke is still.
The soul that had become a beast, sped,
hissing, along the valley, leaving the other, speaking and spluttering, behind
him. Then the second turned his new-won shoulders towards him, and called to
the other: ‘Buoso shall crawl, as I
did, along this road.’ So I saw the seventh chasm’s bodies mutate and
transmutate: and let the novelty of it be the excuse, if my pen has gone
astray.
Though my sight was somewhat confused, and
my mind dismayed, they could not flee so secretly, but that I clearly saw Puccio Sciancato: and it was he,
alone, of the three companions, who had first arrived, who was not changed. One
of the others, Francesco, was he
who caused you, the people of Gaville, to weep.
Rejoice, Florence, that, since you are so
mighty, you beat your wings over land and sea, and your name spreads through
Hell itself. So, among the thieves, I found five of your citizens: at which I
am ashamed, and you do not rise to great honour by it either. But if the truth
is dreamed, as morning comes, you will soon feel what Prato, and others, wish on you. And, if it
were come already, it would not be too soon: would it were so, now, as indeed
it must come, since it will trouble me more, the older I am.
We left there, and my guide remounted by
the stairs that the stones had made for us to descend, and drew me up: and,
following our solitary way, among the crags and splinters of the cliff, the
foot made no progress without the hand.
I was saddened then, and sadden
now, again, when I direct my mind to what I saw, and rein in my intellect more
than I am used, so that it does not run where virtue would not guide it, and so
that, if a good star, or some truer power, has granted me the talent, I may not
abuse the gift.
The eighth chasm was gleaming with flames, as numerous as the fireflies
the peasant sees, as he rests on the hill, when the sun, who lights the world,
hides his face least from us, and the fly gives way to the gnat down there,
along the valley, where he gathers grapes, perhaps, and ploughs.
As soon as I came to where the
floor showed itself, I saw them, and, as Elisha,
the mockery of whom by children was avenged by bears, saw Elijah’s chariot departing, when the horses
rose straight to Heaven, and could not follow it with his eyes, except by the
flame alone, like a little cloud, ascending, so each of those flames moved,
along the throat of the ditch, for none of them show the theft, but every flame
steals a sinner.
I stood on the bridge, having so risen to
look, that if I had not caught hold of a rock I should have fallen in without
being pushed. And the guide, who saw me so intent, said: ‘The spirits are
inside those fires: each veils himself in that which burns him.’ I replied:
‘Master, I feel more assured from hearing you, but had already seen that it was
so, and already wished to say to you, who is in that fire, that moves, divided
at the summit, as if it rose from the pyre where Eteocles was cremated with his brother, Polynices?’
He answered me: ‘In there, Ulysses and Diomede are tormented, and so they go,
together in punishment, as formerly in war: and, in their fire, they groan at
the ambush of the Trojan horse, that made a doorway, by which Aeneas, the noble seed of the Romans issued
out. In there they lament the trick, by which Deidamia,
in death, still weeps for Achilles: and
there, for the Palladium, they endure punishment.’
I said: ‘Master, I beg you greatly, and
beg again so that my prayers may be a thousand, if those inside the fires can
speak, do not refuse my waiting until the horned flame comes here: you see how
I lean towards it with desire.’ And he to me: ‘Your request is worth much
praise, and so I accept it, but restrain your tongue. Let me speak: since I
conceive what you wish, and because they were Greeks they might disdain your
Trojan words.’
When the flame had come, where the time
and place seemed fitting, to my guide, I heard him speak, so: ‘O you, who are
two in one fire, if I was worthy of you when I lived, if I was worthy of you,
greatly or a little, when on earth I wrote the high verses, do not go, but let
one of you tell where he, being lost through his own actions, went to die.’
The greater horn of the ancient flame
started to shake itself, murmuring, like a flame struggling in the wind. Then
moving the tip, as if it were a tongue speaking, gave out a voice, and said:
‘When I left Circe, who held me for more
than a year, near to Gaeta, before Aeneas
named it, not even my fondness for my son, Telemachus, my reverence for my aged
father, Laërtes, nor the debt of love
that should have made Penelope happy,
could restrain in me the desire I had, to gain experience of the world, and of
human vice and worth.
I set out on the wide, deep ocean, with
only one ship, and that little company, that had not abandoned me. I saw both
shores, as far as Spain, as far as Morocco, and the isle of Sardinia, and the
other islands that sea washes. I, and my companions, were old, and slow, when
we came to that narrow strait, where Hercules
set up his pillars, to warn men from going further. I left Seville to
starboard: already Ceuta was left behind on the other side.
I said: ‘O my brothers, who have
reached the west, through a thousand dangers, do not deny the brief vigil, your
senses have left to them, experience of the unpopulated world beyond the Sun.
Consider your origin: you were not made to live like brutes, but to follow
virtue and knowledge.’ With this brief speech I made my companions so eager for
the voyage, that I could hardly have restrained them, and turning the prow
towards morning, we made wings of our oars for that foolish flight, always
turning south.
Night already saw the southern pole, with all its stars, and our
northern pole was so low, it did not rise from the ocean bed. Five times the
light beneath the moon had been quenched and relit, since we had entered on the
deep pathways, when a mountain appeared to us, dim with distance, and it seemed
to me the highest I had ever seen. We rejoiced, but soon our joy was turned to
grief, when a tempest rose from the new land, and struck the prow of our ship.
Three times it whirled her round, with all the ocean: at the fourth, it made
the stern rise, and the prow sink, as it pleased another, till the sea closed
over us.’
The flame was now erect and quiet, no
longer speaking, and was going away from us, with the permission of the sweet
poet, when another, that came behind forced us to turn our eyes towards its
summit, since a confused sound escaped there.
As the Sicilian bull, that first bellowed
with the groans of Perillus, who had smoothed
it with his file (and that was right) bellowed with the sufferer’s voice, so
that, although it was bronze, it seemed pierced with agony, so here, the dismal
words, having, at their source, no exit from the fire, were changed into its
language. But when they had found a path out through the tip, giving it the
movement that the tongue had given in making them, we heard it say: ‘O you, at
whom I direct my voice, and who, but now, was speaking Lombard, saying: “Now
go: no more, I beg you”, let it not annoy you to stop and speak with me, though
perhaps I have came a little late: you see it does not annoy me, and I burn.
If you are only now fallen into this blind
world, from that sweet Latian land, from which I bring all my guilt, tell me if
Romagna has peace or war, for I was of the mountains there, between Urbino and
Monte Coronaro, the source from which the Tiber springs.’
I was still leaning downwards eagerly,
when my leader touched me on the side, saying: ‘Speak, this is a Latian.’ And I
who had my answer ready, began to speak then without delay: ‘O spirit, hidden
there below, your Romagna is not, and never has been, without war in the hearts
of her tyrants: but I left no open war there now.
Ravenna stands, as it has stood for many years: Guido Vecchio da Polenta’s eagle broods over it, so
that it covers Cervia with its claws. That city, Forlì, that withstood so long
a siege, and made a bloody pile of Frenchmen, finds itself again under the paws
of Ordelaffi’s green lion.
Malatesta, the old
mastiff of Verruchio, and the young one, Malatestino, who made bad
jailors for Montagna, sharpen their
teeth, where they used to do. Faenza, on the Lamone, and Imola on the Santerno,
those cities lead out Pagano, the lion
of the white lair, who changes sides when he goes from south to north, and
Cesena, that city whose walls the Savio bathes, where it lies between the
mountain and the plain, likewise lives between freedom and tyranny.
Now I beg you, tell us who you are: do not be harder than others have
been to you, so that your name may keep its lustre on earth.’
When the flame had roared for a while as usual, it flickered the sharp point to and fro, and then gave out this breath: ‘If I thought my answer was given to one who could ever return to the world, this flame would flicker no more, but since, if what I hear is true, no one ever returned, alive, from this deep, I reply, without fear of defamation.
I, Guido da Montefeltro, was a man of arms: and then became a Cordelier of Saint Francis, hoping to make amends, so habited: and indeed my hopes would have been realised in full, but for the Great Priest, Boniface, evil to him, who drew me back to my first sins: and how and why, I want you to hear from me.
While I was in the form of bones and pulp, that my mother gave me, my actions were not those of the lion, but of the fox. I knew all the tricks and coverts, and employed the art of them so well, that the noise went out to the ends of the earth. When I found myself arrived at that point of life, when everyone should furl their sails, and gather in the ropes, what had pleased me before, now grieved me, and with repentance and confession, I turned monk. Ah misery! Alas, it would have served me well.
But the Prince of the Pharisees; that Pope waging war near the Lateran, and not with Saracens or Jews, since all his enemies were Christians, and none had been to conquer Acre, or been a merchant in the Sultan’s land; had no regard for the highest office, nor holy orders, nor my habit of Saint Francis, that used to make those who wore it leaner; but as the Emperor Constantine sought out Saint Sylvester, on Mount Soracte, to cure his leprosy, so this man called me, as a doctor to cure his feverish pride. He demanded counsel of me, and I kept silent, since his speech seemed drunken.
Then he said to me: ‘Do not be doubtful, I absolve you beforehand: and, you, teach me how to act, so that I may raze the fortress of Palestrina to the ground. I can open and close Heaven as you know, with the two keys, that my predecessor, Celestine, did not prize.’ Then the weighty arguments forced me to consider silence worse, and I said: ‘Father, since you absolve me of that sin, into which I must now fall, large promises to your enemies, with little delivery of them, will give you victory, from your high throne.’
Afterwards, when I was dead, Saint Francis came for me: but one of the Black Cherubim said to him: ‘Do not take him: do not wrong me. He must descend among my servants, because he gave a counsel of deceit, since when I have kept him fast by the hair: he who does not repent, cannot be absolved: nor can one repent a thing, and at the same time will it, since the contradiction is not allowed.’ O miserable self! How I started, when he seized me, saying to me: ‘Perhaps you did not think I was a logician.’
He carried me to Minos, who coiled his tail eight times round his fearful back, and then, biting it in great rage, said: ‘This sinner is for the thievish fire’, and so I am lost here, as you see, and clothed like this, go inwardly grieving.’
When he had ended his speech, so, the flame went sorrowing, writhing and flickering its sharp horn. We passed on, my guide and I, along the cliff, up to the other arch, that covers the next ditch, in which the reward is paid to those who collect guilt by sowing discord.
Who could ever fully tell, even with
repeated unimprisoned words, the blood and wounds I saw now? Every tongue would
certainly fail, since our speech and memory have too small a capacity to
comprehend so much. If all the people, too, were gathered, who once grieved for
their blood, in the fateful land of Apulia, by reason of the Samnite War of the
Romans, of Trojan seed; and those, from that long Punic War, that, as Livy writes, who does not err, yielded so
great a wealth of rings, from Cannae’s battlefield; and those who felt the pain
of blows by withstanding Robert Guiscard;
and the rest, whose bones are still heaped at Ceperano, where all the Apulians
turned traitor, for Charles of Anjou;
and there, at Tagliacozzo where old Alardo’s
advice to Charles conquered without weapons: and some were to show pierced
limbs, and others severed stumps; it would be nothing to equal the hideous
state of the ninth chasm.
Even a wine-cask, that has lost a stave in
the middle or the end, does not yawn as widely, as a spirit I saw, cleft from
the chin down to the part that gives out the foulest sound: the entrails hung
between his legs: the organs appeared, and the miserable gut that makes excrement
of what is swallowed.
While I stood looking wholly at him, he
gazed at me, and opened his chest with his hands, saying: ‘See how I tear
myself: see how Mahomet is ripped! In
front of me, Ali goes, weeping, his face
split from chin to scalp, and all the others you see here, were sowers of
scandal and schism in their lifetimes: so they are cleft like this. There is a
devil behind who tears us cruelly like this, reapplying his sword blade to each
of this crowd, when they have wandered round the sad road, since the wounds
heal before any reach him again.
But who are you, who muse there on the
cliff, maybe to delay your path to punishment, in sentence for your crimes?’
My Master replied: ‘Death has not come to
him yet, nor does guilt lead him to torment, but it is incumbent on me, who am
dead, to grant him full experience, and lead him, through the Inferno, down
here, from circle to circle, and this is truth, that I tell you.’ When they
heard him, more than a hundred spirits, in the ditch, halted, to look at me,
forgetting their agony, in their wonder.
After lifting up one foot, to leave,
Mahomet said to me: ‘Well now, you who will soon see the sun, perhaps, tell Fra Dolcino of the Apostolic Brothers, if he
does not wish to follow me, quickly, down here, to furnish himself with
supplies, so that the snow-falls may not bring a victory for the Novarese, that
otherwise would be difficult to achieve.’ Then, he strode forward to depart.
Another, who had his throat slit, and nose
cut off to the eyebrows, and had only a single ear, standing to gaze in wonder
with the rest, opened his wind-pipe, that was red outside, all over, and said:
‘You, that no guilt condemns, and whom I have seen above on Latian ground,
unless resemblance deceives me, remember Pier
della Medicina, if you ever return to see the gentle plain, that slopes
down from Vercelli to Marcabò. And make known to the worthiest two men in Fano,
Messer Guido, and Angiolello, also, that unless our
prophetic powers here are in vain, they will be cast out of their boat, and
drowned near Cattolica, by treachery. Neptune never saw a greater crime,
between the isles of Cyprus and Majorca, not even among those carried out by
pirates, or by Greeks. Malatestino,
the treacherous one, who only sees with one eye, and holds the land, that one,
who is here with me, wishes he had never seen, will make them come to parley
with him, then act so that they will have no need of vow or prayer to counter
Focara’s winds.
And I said to him: ‘If you would have me
carry news of you, above, show me and explain who he is that rues the sight of
it.’ Then he placed his hand on the jaw of one of his companions, and opened
the mouth, saying: ‘ This is he: and he does not speak. This outcast quelled Caesar’s doubts at the Rubicon,
saying that delay always harms men who are ready.’ O how dejected, Curio seemed to me, with his tongue slit in
his palate, who was so bold in speech!
And one who had both hands severed,
lifting the stumps through the dark air, so that their blood stained his face,
said: ‘You will remember Mosca too,
who said, alas, “A thing done, has an end” which was seed of evil to the Tuscan
race.’ ‘And death to your people,’ I added, at which he, accumulating pain on
pain, went away like one sad and mad.
But I remained behind to view the crowd,
and saw a thing, which, without more proof, I would be afraid to even tell,
except that conscience reassures me, the good companion, that strengthens a
man, under the armour of his self-respect.
I saw it clearly, and still seem to see, a
headless trunk, that goes on before, like the others, in that miserable crew,
and holds its severed head, by the hair, swinging, like a lantern, in its hand.
It looked at us, and said: ‘Ah me!’. It made a lamp of itself, to light itself,
and there were two in one, and one in two: how that can be he knows, who made
it so.
When it was right at the foot of our bridge, it lifted its arm high,
complete with the head, to bring its words near to us, which were: ‘Now you see
the grievous punishment, you, who go, alive and breathing, to see the dead:
look if any are as great as this. And so that you may carry news of me, know
that I am Bertrand de Born, he who
gave evil counsel to the Young King.
I made the father and the son
rebel against each other: Ahithophel
did no more for Absalom and David, by his malicious stirrings.
Because I parted those who were once joined, I carry my intellect, alas,
split from its origin in this body. So, in me, is seen just retribution.