Tt

Who could ever, even in straight prose
         And after much retelling, tell in full
         The bloodletting and wounds that I now saw?
 
         Each tongue that tried would certainly trip up
5         Because our speaking and remembering
         Cannot comprehend the scope of pain.
 
         Were all those men gathered again together
         Who once in the fateful land of Apulia
         Mourned the lifeblood spilled by the Trojans,
 
10       And those who shed their blood in the long war
         In which the spoils were a mound of golden rings,
         As Livy has unerringly informed us,
 
         And those also who felt the painful gashes
         In the onslaught against Robert Guiscard,
15       And those others whose bones are still stacked up
 
         At Ceperano where all the Apulians
         Turned traitors, and those too from Tagliacozzo
         Where old Alardo conquered without weapons,
 
         And those who show their limbs run through and those
20       With limbs hacked off — they all could not have matched
         The ninth pocket’s degraded state of grief.
 
         Even a cask with bottom or sides knocked out
         Never cracked so wide as one soul I saw
         Burst open from the chin to where one farts.
 
25       His guts were hanging out between his legs;
         His pluck gaped forth and that disgusting sack
         Which turns to shit what throats have gobbled down.
 
         While I was all agog with gazing at him,
         He stared at me and, as his two hands pulled
30       His chest apart, cried, "Look how I rip myself!
 
         "Look at how mangled is Mohammed here!
         In front of me, Ali treks onward, weeping,
         His face cleft from his chin to his forelock.
 
         "And all the others whom you see down here
35       Were sowers of scandal and schism while
         They lived, and for this they are rent in two.
 
         "A devil goes in back here who dresses us
         So cruelly by trimming each one of the pack
         With the fine cutting edge of his sharp sword
 
40       "Whenever we come round this forlorn road:
         Because by then our old wounds have closed up
         Before we pass once more for the next blow.
 
         "But who are you, moping upon that ridge
         Perhaps to put off facing the penalty
45       Pronounced on you by your own accusations?"
 
         "Death has not yet reached him, nor guilt led him
         To the torture here," — my master answered,
         "But, to offer him the full experience,
 
         "I who am dead am destined to guide him
50       From circle to circle down here into hell,
         And, as surely as I speak to you, it’s true."
 
         More than a hundred, when they heard him, halted
         Inside the ditch to peer at me in wonder,
         Forgetting their torments for the moment.
 
55       "Tell Brother Dolcino then, you who perhaps
         Shortly shall see the sun, to arm himself
         With food — unless he wants to follow me
 
         "Here promptly — so that the weight of snow
         Does not bring victory to the Novarese
60       Who otherwise would not find winning easy."
 
         With one foot lifted in the air to go,
         Mohammed addressed these words to me,
         Then set the foot back on the ground and left.
 
         Another sinner with his throat lanced through
65       And with his nose carved off up to the eyebrows
         And with only a single ear remaining
 
         Stopped with the rest to stare in amazement,
         And, before they could, he opened wide his windpipe,
         Which on the outside looked bright red, and said,
 
70       "O you whom guilt does not condemn and whom
         I have seen in the land of Italy,
         Unless a strong resemblance now deceives me,
 
         "Remember Pier da Medicina should you
         Ever return to view the gentle plain
75       Which slopes from Vercelli to Marcabò,
 
         "And make known to the two best men of Fano,
         To Messers Guido and Angiolello,
         That, unless our foresight here be worthless,
 
         "They shall be thrown overboard from their ship
80       And sunk with stones near La Cattolica
         Through the treachery of a felon tyrant.
 
         "Between the islands of Cyprus and Majorca
         Neptune never saw a crime more heinous
         By raiding pirates or the ancient Argives.
 
85      "That one-eyed traitor — who rules over the city
         On which someone here with me would prefer
         That he had never fed his single sight —
 
         "Shall first arrange for them a parley with him,
         Then act to make sure that they will not need
90       Vows or prayers against Focara’s headwinds."
 
         And I told him, "If you want me to carry
         News of you above, point out and tell me
         Who is the one who rues sighting the city?"
 
         At that he gripped a hand upon the jaw
95       Of his companion and forced his mouth agape,
         Shouting, "Here’s the one, but he doesn’t talk!
 
         "This chap in exile submerged all the doubts
         Of Caesar, boasting that one well prepared
         Can only suffer loss by hesitation."
 
100      Oh how flabbergasted he appeared to me,
         With his tongue slashed in his throat — Curio,
         Who once had been so resolute in speaking!
 
         And one who had both of his hands chopped off,
         Raising up his stumps in the smut-filled air
105     So that the blood besmeared and soiled his face,
 
         Cried out, "You will also remember Mosca
         Who said, alas, ‘What’s done is dead and gone!’
         That sowed the seed of trouble for the Tuscans!"
 
         And I added, "— and for your kinsfolk, death!"
110     With that the sinner, sorrow heaped on sorrow,
         Scurried away like one gone mad with grief.
 
         But I stayed there to inspect that muster
         And spied something that I should be afraid
         To tell of on my own without more proof,
 
115      Had I not the assurance of my conscience,
         The good companion heartening a man
         Beneath the breastplate of its pure intention.
 
         I saw for sure — and still I seem to see it —
         A body without a head that walked along
120     Just as the others in that sad herd were walking,
 
         But it held the severed head by the hair,
         Swinging it like a lantern in its hand,
         And the head stared at us and said, "Ah me!"
 
         Itself had made a lamp of its own self,
125     And they were two in one and one in two:
         How can that be? He knows who so ordains it.
 
         When it was right at the base of the bridge,
         It raised up full length the arm with the head
         To carry closer to us words, which were:
 
130      "Now you see the galling punishment,
         You there, breathing, come visiting the dead:
         See if you find pain heavier than this!
 
         "And so that you may bring back news of me,
         Know that I am Bertran de Born, the one
135     Who offered the young king corrupt advice.
 
         "I made the son and father rebel foes.
         Achitophel with his pernicious promptings
         Did no worse harm to Absalom and David.
 
         "Because I severed persons bound so closely,
140      I carry my brain separate (what grief!)
         From its life-source which is within this trunk.
 
         "So see in me the counterstroke of justice."

By this time the flame stood straight and still
         With no more words and by now took its leave
         With the permission of the gentle poet
 
         When another, coming right behind it,
5         Forced us to turn our eyes toward its tip
         Because of the scrambled sound it sputtered out.
 
         As the Sicilian bull — that bellowed first
         With cries of the man (it served him right!)
         Who with his file had tuned the beast for torture —
 
10       Would bellow so loudly with its victim’s voice
         Within it that, though the whole was brass
         The thing seemed penetrated by the pain:
 
         So, without a way out or through the soul
         Burning inside the flame, the words of woe
15       Then became the language of the fire.
 
         But after the voices found their own way up
         Through the tip, giving it the tremble which
         The tongue had given to the fiery passage,
 
         We heard the flame: "O you to whom I turn
20       My voice and who, speaking in Lombard, said,
         ‘Now you may leave, I ask no more of you,’
 
         "Although, perhaps, I come a little late,
         Take the trouble to stop and speak to me:
         See, it shan't trouble me, and I am burning.
 
25       "If you just now fell down to this blind world
         Out of that sweet country of Italy
         From which I carry all my guilt, tell me,
 
         "Do the Romagnoles have peace or war?
         For I came from the mountains between Urbino
30       And the range where the Tiber fountains forth."
 
         I still leaned out, bent and listening,
         When my guide nudged me on my side and said,
         "You talk to him: this one is Italian."
 
         And I, already eager to respond,
35       Began to speak up without hesitation:
         "O soul, hidden below there in that fire,
 
         "Your Romagna is not now and never was
         Free of war in the hearts of her tyrants,
         But no war was waging when I left her.
 
40       "Ravenna, now many years, remains the same:
         The eagle of Polenta broods over her
         And also covers Cervia with his wings.
 
         "Forlì, the city which once withstood the siege
         And reduced the French to a bloody rubble,
45       Finds herself again beneath green talons.
 
         "Both mastiffs, old and young, from Verrucchio,
         Who kept such a poor watchout for Montagna,
         Sink their teeth where they usually do.
 
         "The cities on Lamone and Santerno
50       Are ruled by the lion-cub on the white lair
         Who summer to winter shifts from side to side.
 
         "Cesena, whose shore the Savio bathes,
         Just as it lies between the plain and mountain,
         Lives in-between tyranny and freedom.
 
55       "Now I beg you to tell us who you are:
         Don’t be more stubborn than I’ve been with you
         If in the world you’d like your name to last."
 
         After the flame had roared on for some time
         In its unique way, the pointed tip swayed
60       Back and forth and then released this breath:
 
         "If I thought that my answer was to someone
         Who might one day return up to the world,
         This flame would never cease its flickering.
 
         "However, since no one ever turned back, alive,
65       From this abyss — should what I hear be true —
         Undaunted by infamy, I answer you.
 
         "I was a man of arms and then a friar,
         Thinking to atone, girt with the cincture,
         And surely my thought would have proven right
 
70       "Had not that high priest (evil overtake him!)
         Caused me to backslide into earlier crimes:
         And how and why, I would you heard from me.
 
         "While I was still bound by the bones and flesh
         My mother gave me, the things I accomplished
75       Were not those of the lion but the fox.
 
         "Its wiles and covert ways, I knew them all,
         And I conducted their art so cunningly
         My repute resounded to the ends of earth.
 
         "But when I saw that I had reached the point
80       In my life when each man takes on the duty
         To lower the sails and pull in the tackle,
 
         "Things that once brought pleasure now gave pain.
         Repentant and confessed, I joined the friars:
         What a pity! And it would have worked!
 
85      "The crowned prince of the new Pharisees —
         Going to war close to the Lateran
         And not against the Saracens or Jews
 
         "(Since every enemy of his was Christian
         And not one of them had gone to conquer Acre
90       Or been a trader in the Sultan’s country) —
 
         "Ignored the high office and holy orders
         Belonging to him and ignored the cincture
         Which once made men — like me — who wore it leaner:
 
         "But just as Constantine sought out Sylvester
95       On Mount Soracte to heal his leprosy,
         So he sought me to act as his physician
 
         "To help heal him of the fever of his pride.
         He asked me for my counsel — I kept quiet
         Because his words seemed from a drunken stupor.
 
100      "Then he said, ‘Your heart need not mistrust:
         I absolve you in advance and you instruct me
         How to knock Penestrino to the ground.
 
         " ‘I have the power to lock and unlock heaven,
         You know that, because I keep the two keys
105      For which my predecessor took no care.’
 
         "His weighty arguments so pressured me then
         That silence seemed the worse course, and I said,
         ‘Father, since you cleanse me of that sin
 
         " ‘Into which I now must fall — remember:
110     An ample promise with a small repayment
         Shall bring you triumph on the lofty throne.’
 
         "Francis — the moment that I died — came then
         For me, but one of the black cherubim
         Called to him, ‘Don’t take him! don’t cheat me!
 
115     " ‘He must come down to join my hirelings
         Because he offered counsel full of fraud,
         And ever since I’ve been after his scalp!
 
         " ‘For you can’t pardon one who won’t repent,
         And one cannot repent what one wills also:
120      The contradiction cannot be allowed.’
 
         "O miserable me! how shaken I was
         When he grabbed hold of me and cried, ‘Perhaps
         You didn’t realize I was a logician!’
 
         "He carried me off to Minos who twisted
125     His tail eight times around his hardened back,
         Then bit it in gigantic rage and blared,
 
         " ‘This is a sinner for the fire of thieves!’
         So I am lost here where you see me go
         Walking in this robe and in my rancor."
 
130      When he had finished speaking in this fashion,
         The lamenting flame went away in sorrow,
         Turning and tossing its sharp-pointed horn.
 
         We traveled on ahead, my guide and I,
         Along the ridge as far as the next bridgeway
135     Arching the ditch where they must pay the price
 
         Who earned such loads by sowing constant discord

Be glad, Florence, for you are so great
          That over sea and land you flap your wings
          And throughout all of hell they spread your name.
 
          Among the thieves I found five citizens
5          Of yours — I am ashamed of who they were —
          And you are not raised to any heights of honor.
 
          But if near dawn the dreams we have are true,
          Then you shall feel, a little while from now,
          What Prato and the others crave for you.
 
10        If it already happened it should not be
          Too soon; I would it had, since it must be so!
          The longer my wait, the heavier my burden.
 
          We left there, and up by the jutting rocks
          That served as stairs for our descent
15        My guide climbed once more and pulled me after.
 
          And we followed along our solitary way
          Among the crags and rockpiles of the ridge;
          Without our hands our footing would have failed.
 
          It grieved me then and now again it grieves me
20        When I direct my mind to what I saw
          And more than usually I curb my talent
 
          Lest it rush in where virtue fails to guide;
          So, if a friendly star or something better
          Has given me the gift, I don’t gainsay it.
 
25        As many fireflies as the peasant — who
          Rests on a hillside in the season when
          The one that lights the world hides his face least
 
          And when the flies make way for the mosquitos —
          Sees glittering below him in the valley
30        Where perhaps he harvests grapes and plows,
 
          So many flames everywhere enkindled
          The eighth pocket, as I myself perceived
          As soon as I was there where one sees bottom.
 
          And just as he who avenged himself with bears
35        Beheld Elijah’s chariot departing
          With the rearing horses rising up to heaven,
 
          But never could have followed it with his eyes
          Except for the one flame that he kept watching
          Just like a little cloud sailing skyward:
 
40        In this way each flame moved through the throat
          Of that deep ditch, none showing what it stole,
          Though every flame secreted its own sinner.
 
          I stood straight, then leaned out on the bridge
          To look — had I not grabbed a jutting rock
45        I would have toppled off without a push!
 
          And my guide, seeing me so attentive,
          Said, "Within those fires there are souls,
          Each one swathed in its self-scorching torment."
 
          "My master," I replied, "by hearing you
50        I’m even surer, but already I’d concluded
          It was so, and wanted to ask you this:
 
          "Who’s inside that approaching flame so split
          On top that it seems to rise out of the pyre
          Where Eteocles lay beside his brother?"
 
55        "Within that flame Ulysses and Diomede
          Suffer tortures," he told me; "they go together
          In punishment as once they went in wrath;
 
          "And there inside their flame they grieve the ruse
          By which the horse became the gate through which
60        The Roman’s noble seed has issued forth.
 
          "There they mourn the trick that makes the slain
          Deidamia still weep for Achilles,
          And there they pay for the Palladium."
 
          "If it is possible for them to talk
65        From within these flames," I said, "master, I pray
          And pray again (may my prayer count a thousand!)
 
          "That you will not deny my waiting here
          Until the flame with two horns comes this way:
          You see how I bend toward it with a passion!"
 
70        And he said to me, "Your request deserves
          High praise, and for that reason, it is granted.
          But you be certain to restrain your tongue.
 
          "Allow me to talk to them: I comprehended
          What is your wish, but they may show disdain,
75        Since they were Greeks, for your speaking to them."
 
          After the flame had come to us, my guide,
          Judging the time and place now to be ripe,
          Spoke, and these are the words I heard him say:
 
          "O you who here are two within one fire,
80        If I merited from you while I was living,
          If I merited from you much praise or little
 
          "When in the world I wrote my lofty lines,
          Do not leave, but let one of you tell where,
          By his own doing, he lost his way and died."
 
85        The greater of the horns of ancient flame
          Started so to tremble, murmuring,
          That it seemed like a flame breasting the wind.
 
          And then, shaking the tip this way and that,
          As if it were a tongue about to talk,
90        It launched outward a voice that uttered, "When
 
          "I set sail from Circe who had ensnared me
          For more than a year there near Gaëta —
          Before Aeneas had given it that name —
 
          "Not fondness for my son nor sense of duty
95        To my aged father nor the love I owed
          Penelope to bring her happiness
 
          "Could overmaster in me the deep longing
          Which I had to gain knowledge of the world
          And of the vices and virtues of mankind.
 
100       "I embarked on the vast and open sea
          With but one boat and that same scanty crew
          Of my men who had not deserted me.
 
          "On one shore and the other I saw as far
          As Spain, far as Morocco, Sardinia,
105       And the other islands the sea bathes about.
 
          "I and my shipmates by then were old and slow
          When we came at long last to the close narrows
          Where Hercules had set up his stone markers
 
          "That men should not put out beyond that point.
110      On the starboard I now had passed Seville
          And on the port I already passed Ceuta.
 
          " ‘Brothers,’ I said, ‘who through a hundred thousand
          Dangers have reached the channel to the west,
          To the short evening watch which your own senses
 
115       " ‘Still must keep, do not choose to deny
          The experience of what lies past the sun
          And of the world yet uninhabited.
 
          " ‘Consider the seed of your generation:
          You were not born to live like animals
120       But to pursue virtue and possess knowledge.’
 
          "I rallied my shipmates for the voyage
          So sharply with this brief exhortation
          That then I could have hardly held them back.
 
          "And turning our stern toward the morning,
125      Of oars we made wings for that madcap flight,
          Always gaining on the larboard side.
 
          "Night by now gazed out on all the stars
          At the other pole, and our stars sank so low
          That none rose up above the ocean floor.
 
130       "Five times the light that spread beneath the moon
          Again shone down and five times more it waned
          Since we had entered that deep passageway
 
          "When a lone mountain loomed ahead, dark
          In the dim distance, and it looked to me
135      The highest peak that I had ever seen.
 
          "We leaped for joy — it quickly turned to grief,
          For from the new land a whirlwind surging up
          Struck the foredeck of our ship head on.
 
          "Three times it spun us round in swirling waters;
140      The fourth round it raised the stern straight up
          And plunged the prow down deep, as Another pleased,
 
          "Until the sea once more closed over us."

At the end of this harangue of his the thief
         Raised high his fists forked into figs and cried,
         "Take that, God, I screwed them against you!"
 
         From then on the serpents were my friends
5         Because one of them coiled around his neck
         As though to say, "I’ll not have you say more!"
 
         And another whipped about his arms and tied him,
         Wrapping itself so tightly in front of him
         That with the knot he couldn’t jerk a muscle.
 
10       Pistoia, ah Pistoia! why not decree
         To turn yourself to ashes and end it all
         Since you outstrip your offspring in evil-doing?
 
         Throughout all the darkened circles of deep hell
         I saw no soul so insolent toward God,
15       Not even he who fell from the walls at Thebes.
 
         Without speaking another word, he fled,
         And then I saw a centaur, full of fury,
         Come shouting, "Where, where is that bitter beast?"
 
         I do not think Maremma has as many
20       Snakes as the centaur carried on his croup
         Right up to where our human shape begins.
 
         Upon his shoulders, just behind the scruff,
         With its wings outstretched, there sat a dragon
         That set on fire all that cross its path.
 
25       My master stated, "That centaur is Cacus:
         In a rock-cave beneath Mount Aventine
         Many the time he spilled a lake of blood.
 
         "He does not go the same road with his brothers
         Because he fraudulently committed theft
30       Of his neighbor’s mighty herd of cattle.
 
         "The club of Hercules, who must have hit him
         A hundred blows, ended his crooked deals:
         But after the tenth clout he felt nothing."
 
         While he was saying this, Cacus ran past,
35       And three spirits came along below us,
         But neither I nor my guide observed them
 
         Until they shouted up, "Who are you?"
         That put an end to our discussion, and
         Then we turned our attention fully to them.
 
40       I did not recognize them, but it happened,
         As it so often happens by some chance,
         That one had to call out the other's name,
 
         Questioning, "Where has Cianfa gone off to?"
         At this, I — to keep my guide listening —
45       Placed my finger between chin and nose.
 
         If you are now, reader, slow to believe
         What I shall tell, that would be no wonder,
         For I who saw it can scarcely accept it.
 
         While I was staring down at the three sinners
50       I saw a serpent with six feet, from in front
         Leap up on one and entirely grip him.
 
         It wrapped his stomach with its middle feet
         And with its forefeet pinned him by the arms;
         Then sank its teeth in one cheek, then the other.
 
55       It spread its hind feet down about his thighs
         And thrust the tail out between his legs
         And at his back pulled it up straight again.
 
         Never did ivy cling to any tree
         So tightly as that horrendous beast
60       Twined its limbs around and through the sinner’s.
 
         Then the two stuck together as if made
         Of hot wax and mixed their colors so
         Neither one nor other seemed what once they were:
 
         Just as, in front of the flame, a brown color
65       Advances on the burning paper, so that
         It is not yet black but the white dies away.
 
         The other two glared at one another, each
         Crying out, "O Agnello, how you change!
         Look! already you are neither two nor one."
 
70       The two heads by now had become one
         When we saw the two features fuse together
         Into one face in which they both were lost.
 
         Two arms took shape out of the four remnants;
         The thighs with the legs, belly, and chest,
75       Changed into members never before seen.
 
         Then every former likeness was blotted out:
         That perverse image seemed both two and neither,
         And, such, at a slow pace, it moved away.
 
         Just as the lizard, that under the giant lash
80       Of the dog days darts from hedge to hedge,
         Looks like a lightning flash as it crosses the path,
 
         So seemed, heading straight out toward the gut
         Of the other two, a small blazing serpent,
         Black and livid like a peppercorn.
 
85       And in one sinner it bit right through that part
         From which we first take suck and nourishment;
         And down it fell full length in front of him.
 
         The bitten sinner stared but uttered nothing.
         Instead, he just stood rooted there and yawned
90       Exactly as though sleep or fever struck him.
 
         The serpent looked at him, he looked at it:
         One through the mouth, the other through his wound
         Billowed dense smoke and so the two smokes mingled.
 
95       Let Lucan now be silent, where he tells
         Of hapless Sabellus and Nasidius,
         And let him listen to what I now project.
 
         Let Ovid too be silent about Cadmus
         And Arethusa, where in verse he makes one
         A snake and one a fount: I do not envy him,
 
100      Since he never so transmuted two natures
         Face to face that their spiritual forms
         Were ready to exchange their bodily substance.
 
         Together they responded to such laws
         That the snake slit its tail into a fork
105     While the wounded sinner drew his feet together.
 
         The legs with the thighs locked so firmly,
         One to the other, that shortly one could find
         No sign whatever where the seam had joined.
 
         The slit tail then assumed the very shape
110      That had been lost there; and the hide of one
         Softened as the skin of the other hardened.
 
         I saw his arms returning to the armpits
         And the two feet of the reptile — they were short —
         Lengthen out while the two arms shortened.
 
115      Afterward, the hind feet, twisted up
         Together, became the member that men hide,
         While from his member the wretch grew two paws.
 
         While smoke veiled both the one and the other
         With new color and made the hair grow matted
120     On the one skin, and the other it made bald,
 
         The one rose upright and the other fell,
         Neither averting the lamps of evil eyes
         As, staring, they exchanged a nose and snout.
 
         The one standing drew back the face toward
125      The temples, and from the surplus stuff massed there
         Ears emerged above the once-smooth cheeks;
 
         The surplus not pulled back but still remaining
         In front, then formed a nose for the face
         And filled the lips out to their proper size.
 
130     The one lying down sprouted forth a muzzle
         And withdrew the ears back into the head
         In the same way a snail pulls in its horns.
 
         And the tongue, once single, whole, and suited
         For speech, split, while the other’s forked tongue
135     Sealed back up, and the smoke also stopped.
 
         The soul that had been turned into a beast,
         Hissing, filed off along the gully, fast,
         And the other, speaking, spat after its tracks.
 
         He turned his new-made shoulders then and told
140     The third soul left there, "I want Buoso to run,
         The way I did, on all fours down the road!"
 
         And so I saw the cargo shift and reshift
         In the seventh hold — and let me be forgiven
         Strangeness that may have led my pen astray.
 
145      And although my eyes were somewhat out of focus
         And my mind out of joint, the three sinners
         Could not have fled so furtively that I
 
         Did not observe Puccio Sciancato,
         The only one, of the three comrades that
150     Came at first, who then had not been changed;
 
         The other was he who made you, Gaville, grieve.

When in that season of the youthful year
         The sun warms his rays beneath Aquarius,
         And soon the nights shall meet the days halfway,
 
         When the hoarfrost paints upon the ground
5        The perfect picture of his pure white sister
         (But pigment from his brush soon vanishes),
 
         The peasant, short on fodder for his sheep,
         Wakes up and looks out and sees the fields
         All blanketed in white: he smacks his thigh,
 
10       Turns back indoors and walking up and down,
         Frets like a wretch not knowing what to do;
         Out he comes once more, and hope revives
 
         When he sees the world has changed its face
         In so brief a time, and he takes up his staff
15       To drive his sheep outside to the green pasture:
 
         Just so I felt such deep dismay to see
         My master’s brow grown pale with some new trouble
         And as quickly came the gauze to heal the hurt.
 
         For as soon as we approached the shattered bridge
20       My escort turned to me that same sweet look
         Which I’d first seen at the foot of the mountain.
 
         He opened wide his arms — once he had closely
         Studied the wreckage and come to some resolve
         Within himself — then he took hold of me.
 
25       And just like one who works and thinks things out,
         Who is always ready for what lies ahead,
         So he, lifting me toward the dome of one
 
         Huge boulder, spied another crag above
         And said, "Now clamber onto that: but first
30       Try it out to see if it will hold you."
 
         It was no path for those clothed in their cloaks!
         For we could hardly — he, light, and I, with help —
         Handhold by handhold, scale the jutting rocks.
 
         And had it not been that, down from that rampart,
35       The slope of one bank was lower than the other,
         I cannot speak for him, but I’d be beaten.
 
         But because Malebolge all falls away
         Toward the open mouth of the lowest well,
         The layout of each valley predetermined
 
40       That as one bank rises, the next tapers off.
         And so we reached, at last, the point on top
         Where the last stone of the bridge fell broken.
 
         The breath was so pumped out of my lungs
         When I climbed aloft, I could not go onward,
45       And as soon as I’d come up there I sat down.
 
         "Now you must shake off all your laziness,"
         My master said, "for loungers and slugabeds
         Will never reach the heights of lasting fame:
 
         "Without fame a man wears away his life,
50        Leaving such traces of himself on earth
         As smoke on air or foam upon the water.
 
         "Straighten up! Conquer your fatigue
         With the spirit that wins every battle
         Unless it sink under the body’s weight.
 
55       "Longer stairs than these wait to be climbed!
         It is not enough to leave these souls behind:
         If you have understood my words, act on them!"
 
         I stood up then, showing that I was better
         Supplied with wind than I had been before,
60       And said, "Go on, for I am strong and ready."
 
         We picked our way along the curving ridge
         Which was more jagged, narrower and harder,
         And so much steeper than the ridge before.
 
         Not to seem weak, I talked as I pushed on;
65       Then, from the next ditch there arose a voice
         That seemed incapable of forming words.
 
         I don’t know what he said, though now I stood
         On the crown of the arch that crosses there,
         But whoever spoke appeared to be running.
 
70       I had bent over, yet my living eyes
         Could not pierce through the darkness to the bottom;
         So I said, "Master, kindly manage to reach
 
         "The next ring, and let us climb down the wall:
         From here I cannot grasp what I am hearing,
75       And I see down but I can make out nothing."
 
         "No other answer," he said, "shall I give you
         Than doing it, because a fit request
         Should in silence be followed by the deed."
         We climbed down where the bridgehead ended
80       And where it merged with the eighth embankment,
         And then its pocket opened up to me:
 
         And there within I saw a repulsive mass
         Of serpents in such a horrifying state
         That still my blood runs cold when I recall them.
 
85       No more need Libya boast about the sands
         Where chelydri, jaculi, phareae,
         And cenchres with amphisbaena breed:
 
         She could not show — with all Ethiopia
         Nor the lands that lie surrounding the Red Sea —
90      So rampant and pestiferous a plague.
 
         Among this cruel and miserable swarm
         Were people running stripped and terrified,
         With no hope of hiding-hole or heliotrope.
 
         They had hands tied behind their backs by snakes
95       That thrust out head and tail through their loins
         And that coiled then in knots around the front.
 
         And look! A serpent sprang up at one sinner
         Upon our strand and it transfixed him there
         Where neck and shoulders knotted at the nape.
 
100      No o or i was ever written faster
         Than that sinner flared up and burst in flames
         And, falling down, completely turned to ashes.
 
         And then, as he lay scattered on the ground,
         The ashy dust collected by itself
105      And suddenly returned to its first shape.
 
         Just so, men of high learning have avowed
         That the phoenix dies and is then reborn
         When it approaches its five-hundredth year;
 
         In life it does not feed on grass or grain,
110     But only on the tears of balm and incense,
         And its last winding-sheet is nard and myrrh.
 
         As one who falls in a fit, not knowing how —
         By devilish force that drags him to the ground
         Or by some other blockage that binds a man —
 
115      When he lifts himself up, and looks around,
         All out of focus with the heavy anguish
         He has suffered, sighing as he stares:
 
         Such was this sinner after he arose.
         O power of God, what great severity
120     To have poured down such blows in its vengeance!
 
         My guide then asked the sinner who he was,
         And he replied to this, "Not long ago
         I rained from Tuscany down to this hellmouth.
 
         "Bestial life and not the human pleased me,
125      Like the mule I was; I am Vanni Fucci,
         Beast, and Pistoia was a fit den for me."
 
         I said to my guide, "Tell him not to slink
         Away, and ask him what crime cast him here,
         For I knew him as a man of blood and tantrums."
 
130     The sinner, who understood, made no evasions
         But turned his mind and face straight toward me
         And reddened with distressful shame, then said,
 
         "It grieves me more that you have found me out
         Amid the wretchedness in which you see me
135      Than when I was taken from the other life.
 
         "I am not able to refuse your asking.
         I am set down so far because I robbed
         The sacristy of its splendid treasure,
 
         "And later someone else was falsely blamed.
140      But, that you may not revel in this sight,
         If ever you escape from these dark regions,
 
         "Open your ears and listen to my tidings:
         Pistoia first divests herself of Blacks;
         Then Florence changes over men and laws.
 
145      "From Valdimagra Mars draws a fiery vapor
         Which is enwrapped in dark and smoky clouds,
         And with a raging and relentless storm
 
         "There shall be battling on Campo Piceno
         Until it will abruptly smash the scud
150     And every White will be struck by the lightning.
 
         "And I have told you this to make you suffer."

Silent, solitary, without escort,
         We walked along, one behind the other,
         Like minor friars traveling the road.
 
         Because of the scuffle we had just seen,
5        My thoughts turned to one of Aesop’s fables
         In which he tells about the frog and mouse.
 
         For "soon" and "shortly" are not more similar
         Than fiction is like fact, if carefully
         You compare the beginning and end of both.
 
10       And just as one thought rises from another,
         So this gave birth to still another thought
         That doubled the first fear that I had felt.
 
         I thought like this: These devils have been mocked
         By us with so much damage and derision
15       That I believe they feel deeply offended.
 
         If anger should be added to bad-will,
         They will chase us even more viciously
         Than the hound that snatches up the hare.
 
         Already I felt my hair start to stand up
20       With fear that gripped me as I stared behind.
         "Master," I said, "if you don’t find a spot
 
         "To hide us — quick — I dread the Malebranche —
         They’re after us right now — I imagine that
         They’re there — so close that I can hear them now!"
 
25       And he replied, "Were I a leaded mirror
         I couldn’t catch your outward look more quickly
         Than your inner thoughts occur to me.
 
         "Just now, in fact, they mingled with my own,
         So similar in act and coloration
30       That I will put them both to one resolve:
 
         "Should the right bank slope in such a way
         That we may descend to the next pocket,
         We could escape the chase we both have pictured."
 
         He’d hardly finished setting forth his plan
35       When I saw them approaching with spread wings
         Not too far off, intent on taking us.
 
         All of a sudden my guide snatched me up,
         Just as a mother waking to a roar
         And seeing flames bursting next to her
 
40       Snatches her son and runs and will not stop —
         She cares much more for him than for herself —
         She does not even pause to put a robe on!
 
         And so down from the height of the hard bank
         Upon his back he slid on the sloping rock
45       Which blocks off one side of the next pocket.
 
         Never water ran along a sluice
         So fast to turn the wheel of a land-mill
         When it courses closest to the paddles,
 
         As my master hastened down that bank,
50       Carrying me held fast upon his breast
         As if I were his son, not a companion.
 
         Hardly had his feet hit down on bedrock
         On the ground below when the fiends were high
         On the ridge right over us — no need to panic:
 
55       For the divine Providence that willed them
         To be placed as servants of the fifth ditch
         Deprived them of all power for leaving it.
 
         Below that point we found a painted people
         Who walked in circles with the slowest steps,
60       Weeping and worn in looks and overwhelmed.
 
         The cloaks they wore had cowls drawn down low
         Over their eyes, made in a similar style
         As those that are made for monks in Cluny.
 
         These are so gilded outside that they dazzle,
65       But inside, solid lead, and so heavy that,
         Compared to them, Frederick’s capes were straw.
 
         O mantle of unending weariness!
         Once again we turned to the left hand,
         Along with those souls rapt in their sad tears.
 
70       But with their weights the tired people trod
         So slowly that we had fresh company
         With every step we took along the way.
 
         At this sight I asked my guide, "Please find
         Someone I should know by deed or name:
75       Let your eyes roam around while we walk on."
 
         And one who had picked up my Tuscan accent
         Shouted out behind us, "Halt your steps,
         You, racing so fast through this murky air!
 
         "Perhaps you’ll get from me what you ask for!"
80       So my guide turned to me, proposing, "Wait,
         Then move ahead according to this pace."
 
         I stopped, and saw two showing in their faces
         Their minds’ restless haste to be with me,
         But their loads and the narrow road delayed them.
 
85       When they caught up, they viewed me with their eyes
         Askance, staring and not uttering a word;
         Then they turned to one another and observed,
 
         "This one seems alive, since his throat moves,
         But if they both are dead, what privilege
90       Lets them go unclad by the heavy mantles?"
 
         Then they said to me, "O Tuscan, you come
         To this chapter of the sorry hypocrites:
         Do not scorn to tell us who you are."
 
         And I told them, "I was born and grew up
95       In the great city by the Arno’s lovely stream,
         And I am in the flesh I’ve always had.
 
         "But who are you whose grief distills such tears
         As I perceive now coursing down your cheeks?
         What is this penance glittering upon you?"
 
100     And one of them replied, "The yellow cloaks
         Are thick with lead of so much weight it makes us
         Who are the scales in the balance creak.
 
         "We both were Jovial Friars, and Bolognese:
         My name was Catalano, his Loderingo;
105      Together we were chosen by your city
 
         "To do what one man usually is assigned,
         Keep the peace, and how much we succeeded
         Still can be seen around the Gardingo."
 
         I began, "O friars, your wicked ..." — but said
110     No more: my eyes caught the sight of one
         Crucified with three stakes on the ground.
 
         When he saw me, he twisted all around,
         Breathing hard into his beard with sighs,
         And brother Catalano, who observed this,
 
115      Said to me, "That one you see nailed down
         Advised the Pharisees it was expedient
         To sacrifice one man for the people.
 
         "Stretched out naked he lies, across the way,
         As you yourself see, and is made to feel
120      The full weight of every passer-by.
 
         "In the same way is his father-in-law racked
         In this same ditch, and the rest of that council
         Which has sowed so much evil for the Jews."
 
         Then I saw Virgil struck with wonder over
125     The one who lay stretched there on the cross
         So ignominiously in unending exile.
 
         He afterwards spoke these words to the friar,
         "Would you please, if it’s allowed, tell us
         If on the right side there lies any passage
 
130      "By which we two can go away from here
         Without compelling some of those black angels
         To come down to this depth to get us out."
 
         He answered then, "Closer than you hope
         There is a rocky ridge that reaches out from
135     The huge round wall and spans all the wild valleys
 
         "Except this broken bridge which does not cross.
         You can climb back up by way of the ruins
         That lie along the slope, heaped at the bottom."
 
         My guide stood awhile, head bowed, then said,
140      "That one who grapples sinners over there
         Gave us a false account about this business."
 
         And the friar: "Once in Bologna I heard
         Described the devil’s many vices, among them
         That he’s a liar and the father of lies."
 
145     With giant strides my guide then hurried off,
         Somewhat perturbed, by the anger in his look.
         At this I left those heavy-burdened souls,
 
         Following the prints of his dear feet.

I have seen horsemen in the past break camp,
         Muster their army and open assault,
         And at times even beat a quick retreat;
 
         I have seen outriders roam your countryside,
5        O Aretines, and seen raiding-parties charge,
         Tournaments clash and jousters galloping,
 
         Some called by trumpets and some by bells,
         By drumrolls and by flares from castle-walls,
         By homemade and imported instruments;
 
10       But never before have I seen horsemen,
         Footsoldiers, or ships that sail by sighting
         Of land or stars move to a stranger bugle.
 
         We walked together along with the ten demons —
         Ah, what fierce company, and yet: with saints
15       In church, with rioters in the tavern!
 
         My whole attention was fixed on the pitch
         To study every aspect of this pocket
         And of the people who, within it, burned.
 
         Just as dolphins do, when with arching backs
20       They signal a storm-warning to the sailors
         To make all hands ready to save the ship,
 
         So here at times to soothe the suffering
         Some sinner showed his back above the top
         And hid again as fast as lightning flashes.
 
25       And just as on the water’s edge of ditches
         Frogs squat with only their muzzles showing,
         To hide their legs and the rest of their fat flesh,
 
         So here on all sides these sinners squatted,
         But the instant Barbariccia stepped forward,
30       They dived back underneath the boiling pitch.
 
         I saw, and still my heart shudders with it,
         One lag behind — just as sometimes one frog
         Will stay back while another leaps below —
 
         And Graffiacane, the closest to him,
35       Hooked him up by his pitch-knotted hair
         And hauled him out — he looked just like an otter!
 
         I knew all of the devils now by name,
         For I had watched them when they were selected,
         And when they called each other, I had listened.
 
40       "Oh Rubicante, see that you get your claws
         Into his back so you can skin and flay him!"
         The whole damned squad shouted all together.
 
         And I: "My master, if you can, please do
         Find out the name of the unfortunate soul
45      Who’s fallen in the clutches of his foes."
 
         My guide, drawing closer to his side,
         Asked him where he came from; he replied,
         "I was born in the kingdom of Navarre.
 
         "My mother placed me in service to a lord,
50       For she had had me by some fly-by-night,
         A destroyer of his goods and suicide.
 
         "Then I served in kind King Thibault’s household
         Where I set myself up by accepting graft:
         And in this heat I render my account."
 
55       And Ciriatto, with two tusks stuck out
         From both sides of his mouth, just like a boar’s,
         Let him feel how one tusk could rip him open.
 
         The mouse had fallen prey to wicked cats.
         But Barbariccia grabbed him with his arms,
60      Yelling, "Stay back there while I’ve got a grip!"
 
         Then he turned his face to my guide and said,
         "Ask once again, if you want to learn more
         From him, before the rest tear him apart."
 
         So my guide: "Tell me then, among the other
65       Sinners, do you know of any Italians sunk
         Under the pitch?" And he: "I just now left
 
         "One soul from near there — would that I were still
         With him beneath the shelter of that pitch!
         These claws and hooks would not then frighten me!"
 
70        And Libicocco snarled, "We’ve stood enough!"
         And with his grapple caught him by the arm
         And, tearing at it, hacked out the skin and muscle.
 
         But Draghignazzo also hoped to lay
         Hooks to his legs; at that the captain whipped
75      About and rounded them with ill-boding looks.
 
         When they’d become a little more subdued,
         Without waiting, my guide questioned the sinner
         Who stood there still, studying his wound,
 
         "Who was the soul you said you had to leave
80       Behind you there when you came to the shore?"
         He answered, "That was Friar Gomita
 
         "From Gallura, a purse for every fraud!
         He had his master’s enemies in his hands
         And treated them so that they sang his praises.
 
85       "He took their cash and let them off scot free,
         As he admits, and in his other dealings
         He was no petty thief but a royal one.
 
         "With him is his cohort Michel Zanche
         Of Logodoro, and their tongues never tire
90       With constant chatter about Sardinia.
 
         "Oh oh, look! there’s another grinding his teeth!
         I’d tell you more but I feel terrified
         That that fiend is all set to scratch my scabs!"
 
         Then their field marshal, facing Farfarello,
95       His eyes rolling with readiness to strike,
         Shouted, "Get back from there, you filthy bird!"
 
         "If it remains your wish to see or hear
         Tuscans or Lombards," the frightened soul resumed,
         "I will call up still more to come to you.
 
100      "But let the Malebranche there stand aside
         So that the souls may not fear their vengeance,
         And I, staying seated in this same spot,
 
         "All by myself, shall make seven surface
         By whistling, a practice that we follow
105     Whenever one of us escapes the pitch."
 
         At this news Cagnazzo raised his muzzle;
         Shaking his head, he sneered, "Listen to that —
         A trick he has thought up to jump back down!"
 
         With that, he who had a store of stratagems
110      Answered, "I am a tricky soul indeed
         When I gain deeper pain for my own partners!"
 
         Alichino could not restrain himself
         And, counter to the rest, said, "If you jump,
         I wouldn’t come galloping after you;
 
115      "Instead, I’ll flap my wings above the pitch-pot!
         We’ll leave this ridge and make the bank a shield
         To see if all alone you can outsmart us!"
 
         O reader, listen to the latest sport!
         Each turned his eyes toward the other shore —
120      The first one was the fiend who most resisted!
 
         The Navarrese picked his time perfectly,
         Fixed both feet on the ground and in a flash
         Leaped out and broke free of the fiend-in-charge!
 
         Each one felt guilt-stricken at being gulled,
125     But chief the one who brought about the blunder,
         So he took straight off and cried, "You’re caught!"
 
         But it did little good, for wings cannot
         Fly faster than can fear: the one dives under
         While the other thrusts up his chest in flight.
 
130      No different is the duck that plunges downward
         With a rush when the falcon closes in
         And then, beaten and bitter, soars back again.
 
         Calcabrina, fuming at the ruse,
         Flew after Alichino; he was hoping
135     The sinner would escape so he could tussle.
 
         And as soon as the grafter disappeared,
         He turned his claws on his air-borne comrade
         And grappled with him high above the ditch.
 
         But the other was a fullfledged sparrowhawk
140     And clawed at him until they both tumbled
         Right in the middle of the boiling pond.
 
         Instantly the heat blew them asunder,
         But then they had no way of lifting off
         Since they had clogged their wings with gluey pitch.
 
145      Barbariccia, fretting with the rest,
         Sent four fiends to fly to the other side
         With all their pitchforks, and swiftly enough,
 
         From here and there they then took up their posts
         And stretched their hooks out to the bird-limed pair
150     Who were already cooked inside the crust.
 
         And so we left them embroiled in that mess.

So from bridge to bridge, talking of matters
         That my Comedy here has no care to sing,
         We traveled on, and we had reached the summit
 
         When we stopped to look at yet another gap
5         Of Malebolge and another empty sorrow:
         And I saw how awesomely dark it was!
 
         Just as at the arsenal of the Venetians
         In wintertime the sticky pitch for caulking
         The seams of the leaky vessels boils —
 
10       Since they cannot then set sail — and instead,
         Some rebuild the keels, some plug up the ribs
         Of hulls that rode on many voyagings,
 
         Some hammer at the prow and some the stern,
         Others cut oars, still others twist new rope,
15      Another sews patches on the jib and mainsail:
 
         So, not by the fire but by the art of God,
         Boiled, there below, a thick and sticky pitch
         Which glue-coated the banks on every side.
 
         I saw the pitch, but in it I saw nothing
20       Except the rising of the boiling bubbles,
         The whole swelling up and sinking down.
 
         While I stared down intently into it,
         My guide, calling to me, "Watch out! Watch out!"
         Drew me to his side from where I stood.
 
25       At that I turned around like someone anxious
         To see whatever he is supposed to shun
         While he remains so dashed by sudden panic
 
         That he won’t stop his flight but will look back:
         And I saw behind us a blackened devil
30       Come running up along the ridge’s length.
 
         Ah, what a ferocious look he had!
         And how fierce his actions seemed to me,
         With his wings wide-open and his light feet!
 
         Upon his shoulders, which were high and pointed,
35       He had loaded a sinner by both legs,
         Gripping him in front by the ankles.
 
         From our bridge he called, "Oh, Malebranche,
         Here is one of Saint Zita’s elders!
         Toss him below while I go back for more
 
40       "To that city which is so well supplied:
         All men there, except Bonturo, are grafters!
         In Lucca they will change no to yes for cash!"
 
         He plunged the sinner down and turned about
         Upon the rocky ridge: no hound freed from
45       Its leash ever chased a thief so swiftly!
 
         The sinner sank and surfaced rear end-up,
         But the demons under cover of the bridge
         Shouted, "The Holy Face has no place here!
 
         "Swimming here is not like in the Serchio!
50       If you don’t want to feel our grappling-hooks,
         Don’t raise yourself up above that pitch!"
 
         They chewed him with a hundred prongs or more,
         Screaming, "Here you frolic under cover!
         See if you can snitch the chance to surface!"
 
55       In just this way might cooks make their helpers
         Plunge the meat down deep into the pot
         With their forks, to keep it from floating up.
 
         My gracious master said, "We don’t want them
         To know that you are here, so crouch down low
60       Behind a crag to give yourself some cover.
 
         "No matter what affronts they offer me,
         Don’t be afraid: I know how things run here,
         And I had a skirmish like this once before."
 
         With this he passed beyond the top of the bridge
65       And, arriving upon the sixth embankment,
         Had need to prove his show of self-reliance.
 
         With just the same rage and roaring of dogs
         When they rush out on some poor passing beggar
         Who stops dead in his tracks and starts to beg,
 
70       So these devils, from beneath the bridge
         Shot out with all their prongs aimed at my guide,
         But he shouted, "Stop being savages!
 
         "Before you would impale me with your forks,
         One of you step forward to hear me out
75       And then resolve to grapple me or not."
 
         They all shouted, "Malacoda should go!"
         Then one of them moved up — the rest stood still —
         And, approaching, asked, "How will that help him?"
 
         "Do you think, Malacoda, I have come
80       So far, as you can see," my master said,
         "Safe from all these counterblows of yours,
 
         "Without the grace of God and a friendly fate?
         Let us pass, since it is willed in heaven
         That I show another along this savage path."
 
85       At this his pride became so crestfallen
         That he let his hook drop right at his feet
         And told the others, "Now, don’t any strike him!"
 
         And my guide said to me, "You, crouching there
         Among the shattered rockpiles of the bridge,
90       Now you can feel safe returning to me."
 
         At that I moved and quickly came to him,
         And the devils pressed forward all together;
         I panicked that they might not keep their pact.
 
         Just so, I once saw soldiers fill with panic,
95       As they filed from Caprona with safe conduct,
         Seeing themselves surrounded by their foes.
 
         With my whole body I pressed against my guide
         And not for a moment would I take my eyes
         From their looks that boded me no good.
 
100      They put out pitchforks, and "Shall I prick him,"
         One said to the other, "on his bottom?"
         And he answered, "Sure, let him have a nick!"
 
         But Malacoda, who all the while was talking
         To my master, whirled around suddenly
105     And yelled, "Stop, Scarmiglione, stop!"
 
         Then he told us, "It’s impossible to go
         Farther along this ridge since the sixth arch
         Lies smashed into pieces at the bottom.
 
         "But if you still are pleased to stroll ahead,
110     Then follow along the bluff until you come
         To another ridge, nearby, that offers crossing.
 
         "Yesterday, five hours from now, marked
         One thousand two hundred and sixty-six years
         Since this bridgeway crashed in ruins here.
 
115      "I am dispatching some of my troop there
         To watch if anyone pops up for air —
         Go along with them; they won’t hurt you.
 
         "Front and center, Alichino and Calcabrina,"
         He started off, "and you too, Cagnazzo!
120     And Barbariccia, lead the squad of ten.
 
        "Take Libicocco and Draghignazzo,
         And tusked Ciriatto and Graffiacane,
         And Farfarello and mad Rubicante.
 
         "Reconnoiter around the bubbling gluepot,
125     And see them safe as far as the next ridge
         That spans all unbroken from den to den."
 
         "O master," I said, "what am I looking at?
         Ah, let us walk alone without an escort:
         You know the way? I want no part of them!
 
130      "If you remain alert as usual,
         Do you not notice how they grind their teeth
         And how they threaten harm with their fierce looks?"
 
         And he: "I have no wish to see you panic.
         Let them grind away all that they want to:
135     They do it to impress the boiling wretches."
 
         They turned around upon the left-face bank,
         But first each pressed a tongue between his teeth
         To sound a signal to their commandant,
 
         And with his ass he blew a bugle-blast.

Now new punishments I must fit to verse,
         Shaping the subject for my twentieth canto
         Of the first canticle on the buried damned.
 
         Already I was fully set to look
5         Far down into the depth that opened to me
         To see its bottom bathed with tears of anguish,
 
         When through the valley’s circling I descried
         People coming hushed and weeping, at the pace
         Followed by processions in this world.
 
10       As my fixed gaze descended lower to them,
         Each seemed bizarrely twisted at the neck
         Between the chin and top part of the chest,
 
         Because their faces turned round to their haunches
         So that they were compelled to walk backwards
15       Since they could not possibly see ahead.
 
         Perhaps a stroke of palsy once has twisted
         Someone so completely, but I doubt it
         For I have never seen a case like this.
 
         May God so grant you, reader, to find fruit
20       In your reading: now ponder for yourself
         How I could keep the eyes in my head dry
 
         When I saw close at hand our human image
         Contorted so the tears streaming from their eyes
         Bathed their buttocks and ran between the cleft.
 
25       I wept, surely, while I leaned back against
         A rock there on that rugged ridge; my escort
         Said, "Still like all the other fools, are you?
 
         "Here pathos lives when its false meaning dies,
         Since who is more pathetic than the person
30       Who agonizes over God’s just judgments?
 
         "Lift up your head, lift it, see him for whom
         The earth cracked open before the Thebans’ eyes
         While they all cried, ‘Where are you rushing off,
 
         " 'Amphiaraus? Why do you flee the battle?’
35       And he didn’t once pause in his headlong flight
         Down to Minos who snatches every soul.
 
         "Look how he’s made a chest of his own shoulders:
         Because he wished to see too far ahead
         He stares behind and takes a backward path.
 
40       "See Tiresias, who changed his likeness:
         Being a man he then became a woman,
         Transforming all the members of his body,
 
         "Until, a second time, he had to strike
         The two lovemaking serpents with his staff
45       Before he donned again his manly down.
 
         "And backing against his belly is Aruns
         Who, in the hills of Luni where the folk
         Of Carrara cultivate the valley,
 
         "Dwelt in a cave among white marble cliffs,
50       And from that vantage with an unblocked view
         He gazed out at the stars and at the sea.
 
         "And she who with her wild disheveled hair
         Covers up her breasts so you can’t see them
         And keeps all of her hairy parts to that side
 
55      "Was Manto, who had searched through many lands
         Before she settled there where I was born:
         On this I want you to hear me for a while.
 
         "After her father Tiresias left this life
         And the city of Bacchus lay enslaved,
60       For long years she wandered through the world.
 
         " High up in lovely Italy, at the foot
         Of those Alps that wall in Germany
         Above Tirol, lies a lake called Benaco;
 
         "A thousand brooks and more, I believe,
65       Bathe Garda, Val Camonica, and Pennino
         With the waters flowing through that lake,
 
         "And in its center is a spot the three
         Bishops of Trent, Brescia, and Verona,
         If ever they should pass that way, would bless.
 
70      "Peschiera, a strong and handsome fortress
         Built against the Bergarnese and Brescians,
         Sits at the low point of the surrounding shore.
 
         "There all the waters which cannot be contained
         Within the bosom of Benaco tumble
75       To form a river down through greening fields;
 
         "As soon as this water starts to course,
         It is known as the Mincio — not Benaco —
         To Governolo where it falls into the Po;
 
         "Not running far, it finds a level ground
80       Where it spreads out and turns into a marsh
         Which is in summer sometimes low and foul.
 
         "Passing that way, the savage virgin saw
         Land there in the middle of the swamp,
         Untilled and barren of inhabitants.
 
85       "There, to flee all human fellowship,
         With her slaves she stopped to ply her arts,
         And there she lived and left her empty body.
 
         "Later the people who were dispersed about
         Gathered to that place, since it was protected
90       By the swamp that ringed it on all sides.
 
         "Over her dead bones they built a city
         And, after her who first picked out the site,
         Without casting lots, they named it Mantua.
 
         "Once far more people dwelt within it,
95       Before Casalodi through his foolishness
         Was taken in by Pinamonte’s tricks.
 
         "I charge you, therefore, if you ever hear
         Another origin claimed for my city,
         Don’t let false stories cheat you of the truth."
 
100     And I said, "Master, this account of yours
         Makes me so sure and so wins all my trust
         That I think other versions just dead coals.
 
         "But tell me if among the people passing
         You notice anyone worth mentioning,
105      For that alone keeps coming to my mind."
 
         To this he said to me, "That one whose beard
         Streams down from his cheeks to his brown shoulders
         Was — when Greece became so drained of males
 
         "That scarcely were there sons for the cradles —
110     An augur, and he set the time with Calchas
         To cut the first ship-cables at Aulis.
 
         "His name was Eurypylus, and of him
         My high tragedy sings in one passage
         Which you know well who know the whole of it.
 
115      "That other one, so thinned-out in the shanks,
         Was Michael Scot, who certainly perceived
         How to play the game of magic fraud.
 
         "See Guido Bonatti; see Asdente,
         Who wishes now he had kept to his thread
120      And shoe-leather, but he repents too late.
 
         "See those wretched women who left needle,
         Spool, and spindle for their fortune-telling;
         They cast their spells with herbs and image-dolls.
 
         "But come now; already Cain with his thornbush
125     Stands at the border of both hemispheres
         And touches the waves below Seville,
 
         "And last night’s moon was already round and full.
         Remember her well, for through her in times past
         No harm came to you deep in the dark forest."
 
130     So he spoke to me as we journeyed on.

O Simon Magus! O miserable lot
         Who take the things of God that ought to be
         Wedded to goodness and in your greediness
 
         Adulterate them into gold and silver!
5         Now the trumpet blast must sound for you
         Since you are stashed here into the third pocket.
 
         We had arrived at the next graveyard
         By climbing to that section of the ridgetop
         Which juts right over the middle of the ditch.
 
10       O highest Wisdom, how great is the art
         You show in heaven, earth, and this bad world!
         And how just is the power of your judgment!
 
         I saw along the sides and on the bottom
         The livid rockface all pocked full of holes,
15       Each one alike in size and rounded shape.
 
         No smaller or no larger they seemed to me
         Than are those booths for the baptismal fonts
         Built in my beautiful San Giovanni —
 
         And one of those, not many years ago,
20       I broke up to save someone drowning in it:
         And let my word here disabuse men’s minds —
 
         Up from the mouth of each hole there stuck out
         A sinner’s feet and legs up to the calf,
         The rest of him remained stuffed down inside.
 
25       The soles of both feet blazed all on fire;
         The leg-joints wriggled uncontrollably:
         They would have snapped any rope or tether.
 
         Just as a flame on anything that’s oily
         Spreads only on the object’s outer surface,
30       So did this fire move from heel to toe.
 
         "Who is that sinner, master, who suffers so,
         Writhing more than any of his comrades,"
         I asked, "the one the redder flame licks dry?"
 
         And he: "If you want to be lifted down
35       Onto that sloping lower bank, then from him
         You’ll learn about himself and his wrongdoings."
 
         And I: "My pleasure is what pleases you.
         You are my lord, and you know I won’t swerve
         From your will: You know what is left unspoken."
 
40       Coming to the fourth causeway, we then turned
         And, bearing to the left, still descended
         Down to the strait and perforated bottom.
 
         And my kind master did not put me down
         From his side till he’d brought me to the hole
45       Of the sinner who shed tears with his shanks.
 
         "O whatever you are, sorrowful soul,
         Planted like a stake with your top downward,"
         I started out, "say something, if you can."
 
         I stood there like a friar hearing confession
50       From a foul assassin who, once fixed in place,
         To delay execution calls him back again.
 
         And he cried, "Are you already standing there,
         Are you already standing there, Boniface?
         By several years the record lied to me!
 
55       "Are you so quickly glutted with the wealth
         Which did not make you fear to take by guile
         The lovely lady and then lay her waste?"
 
         I acted like a person who’s left standing —
         Not comprehending what’s been said to him —
60       Half-mocked and at a loss to make an answer.
 
         Then Virgil spoke up, "Tell him right away,
         ‘I am not he, I’m not the one you think!’ "
         And I replied as I had been instructed.
 
         At this the spirit twisted both feet wildly;
65       Then, sighing deeply, with a voice in tears,
         He asked, "What, then, do you demand of me?
 
         "If to know who I am has so compelled you
         That you continued down this bank, then know
         Once I was vested in the papal mantle,
 
70       "And truly I was a son of the she-bear,
         So avid to advance my cubs that up there
         I pocketed the money and here, myself.
 
         "Under my head have been dragged the others
         Who went, by way of simony, before me,
75       Squashed flat in the fissures of the stone.
 
         "I shall plunge down there, in my turn, when
         The one I took you for — while thrusting at you
         That question so abruptly — will arrive here.
 
         "But a longer time now have I baked my feet
80       And stood like this upside-down than he
         Will stay planted with his red-hot feet up!
 
         "For after him will come one fouler in deeds,
         A lawless shepherd from the westward land,
         One fit to cover up both him and me.
 
85       "He’ll be a new Jason, like him we read of
         In Maccabees; just as Jason’s king was kind,
         So shall the king of France be kind to him."
 
         I do not know if now I grew too brash,
         But I replied to him in the same measure,
90       "Well, then, tell me: how costly was the treasure
 
         "That our Lord demanded of Saint Peter
         Before he gave the keys into his keeping?
         Surely he said only ‘Follow me.’
 
         "Nor did Peter or the rest take gold
95       Or silver from Matthias when they chose him
         By lot to take the place the traitor lost.
 
         "Stay put, therefore, since you are justly punished,
         And guard with care the ill-acquired money
         That made you so high-handed against Charles.
 
100     "And were it not that I as yet feel bound
         By my deep reverence for the mighty keys
         Which you once held in the lighthearted life,
 
         "I would here utter words still far more bitter,
         Because your avarice afflicts the world,
105     Trampling good men and vaulting evildoers.
 
         "You are the shepherds the evangelist meant
         When he saw ‘she who sits upon the waters’
         Fornicating with the kings of earth.
 
         "She is the one born with the seven heads
110     Who from her ten horns begot all her strength
         So long as virtue was her bridegroom’s pleasure.
 
         "A god of gold and silver you have fashioned!
         How do you differ from idolators
         Except they worship one god — you a hundred?
 
115     "Ah, Constantine, how much foul harm was fostered,
         Not by your conversion but by the dowry
         Which the first wealthy father took from you?"
 
         And while I chanted him these notes — whether
         Bitten by his anger or his conscience —
120     He gave a vicious kick with his two feet.
 
         I honestly believe my guide was pleased,
         So contented was his look while he kept listening
         To the sound of these true-spoken words.
 
         At that he took me within both his arms
125      And, when he held me wholly to his breast,
         Climbed up the path that he had once come down.
 
         Nor did he weary of clasping me to himself,
         But carried me to the crest of the arch
         That crosses from the fourth to the fifth causeway.
 
130     Here he gently set down his heavy load,
         Gently because of the steep and craggy ridge
         Which even goats would have found hard to pass.
 
         From there another valley opened before me.