The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri (essential books to read TXT) 📕

Thence to my view another vale appear’d CANTO XX

AND now the verse proceeds to torments new, Fit argument of this the twentieth strain Of the first song, whose awful theme records The spirits whelm’d in woe. Earnest I look’d Into the depth, that open’d to my view, Moisten’d with tears of anguish, and beheld A tribe, that came along the hollow vale, In silence weeping: such their step as walk Quires chanting solemn litanies on earth.

As on them more direct mine eye descends, Each wondrously seem’d to be revers’d At the neck-bone, so that the countenance Was from the reins averted: and because None might before him look, they were compell’d To’ advance with backward gait. Thus one perhaps Hath been by force of palsy clean transpos’d, But I ne’er saw it nor believe it so.

Now, reader! think within thyself, so God Fruit of thy reading give thee! how I long Could keep my visage dry, when I beheld Near me our form distorted in such guise, That on the hinder parts fall’n from the face The tears down-streaming roll’d. Against a rock I leant and wept, so that my guide exclaim’d: “What, and art thou too witless as the rest?

Here pity most doth show herself alive, When she is dead. What guilt exceedeth his, Who with Heaven’s judgment in his passion strives?

Raise up thy head, raise up, and see the man, Before whose eyes earth gap’d in Thebes, when all Cried out, ‘Amphiaraus, whither rushest?

‘Why leavest thou the war?’ He not the less Fell ruining far as to Minos down, Whose grapple none eludes. Lo! how he makes The breast his shoulders, and who once too far Before him wish’d to see, now backward looks, And treads reverse his path. Tiresias note, Who semblance chang’d, when woman he became Of male, through every limb transform’d, and then Once more behov’d him with his rod to strike The two entwining serpents, ere the plumes, That mark’d the better sex, might shoot again.

“Aruns, with rere his belly facing, comes.

On Luni’s mountains ‘midst the marbles white, Where delves Carrara’s hind, who wons beneath, A cavern was his dwelling, whence the stars And main-sea wide in boundless view he held.

“The next, whose loosen’d tresses overspread Her bosom, which thou seest not (for each hair On that side grows) was Manto, she who search’d Through many regions, and at length her seat Fix’d in my native land, whence a short space My words detain thy audience. When her sire From life departed, and in servitude The city dedicate to Bacchus mourn’d, Long time she went a wand’rer through the world.

Aloft in Italy’s delightful land

A lake there lies, at foot of that proud Alp, That o’er the Tyrol locks Germania in, Its name Benacus, which a thousand rills, Methinks, and more, water between the vale Camonica and Garda and the height

Of Apennine remote. There is a spot At midway of that lake, where he who bears Of Trento’s flock the past’ral staff, with him Of Brescia, and the Veronese, might each Passing that way his benediction give.

A garrison of goodly site and strong Peschiera stands, to awe with front oppos’d The Bergamese and Brescian, whence the shore More slope each way descends. There, whatsoev’er Benacus’ bosom holds not, tumbling o’er Down falls, and winds a river flood beneath Through the green pastures. Soon as in his course The steam makes head, Benacus then no more They call the name, but Mincius, till at last Reaching Governo into Po he falls.

Not far his course hath run, when a wide flat It finds, which overstretchmg as a marsh It covers, pestilent in summer oft.

Hence journeying, the savage maiden saw ‘Midst of the fen a territory waste And naked of inhabitants. To shun All human converse, here she with her slaves Plying her arts remain’d, and liv’d, and left Her body tenantless. Thenceforth the tribes, Who round were scatter’d, gath’ring to that place Assembled; for its strength was great, enclos’d On all parts by the fen. On those dead bones They rear’d themselves a city, for her sake, Calling it Mantua, who first chose the spot, Nor ask’d another omen for the name, Wherein more numerous the people dwelt, Ere Casalodi’s madness by deceit

Was wrong’d of Pinamonte. If thou hear Henceforth another origin assign’d Of that my country, I forewarn thee now, That falsehood none beguile thee of the truth.”

I answer’d: “Teacher, I conclude thy words So certain, that all else shall be to me As embers lacking life. But now of these, Who here proceed, instruct me, if thou see Any that merit more especial note.

For thereon is my mind alone intent.”

He straight replied: “That spirit, from whose cheek The beard sweeps o’er his shoulders brown, what time Graecia was emptied of her males, that scarce The cradles were supplied, the seer was he In Aulis, who with Calchas gave the sign When first to cut the cable. Him they nam’d Eurypilus: so sings my tragic strain, In which majestic measure well thou know’st, Who know’st it all. That other, round the loins So slender of his shape, was Michael Scot, Practis’d in ev’ry slight of magic wile.

“Guido Bonatti see: Asdente mark, Who now were willing, he had tended still The thread and cordwain; and too late repents.

“See next the wretches, who the needle left, The shuttle and the spindle, and became Diviners: baneful witcheries they wrought With images and herbs. But onward now: For now doth Cain with fork of thorns confine On either hemisphere, touching the wave Beneath the towers of Seville. Yesternight The moon was round. Thou mayst remember well: For she good service did thee in the gloom Of the deep wood.” This said, both onward mov’d.

CANTO XXI

THUS we from bridge to bridge, with other talk, The which my drama cares not to rehearse, Pass’d on; and to the summit reaching, stood To view another gap, within the round Of Malebolge, other bootless pangs.

Marvelous darkness shadow’d o’er the place.

In the Venetians’ arsenal as boils Through wintry months tenacious pitch, to smear Their unsound vessels; for th’ inclement time Sea-faring men restrains, and in that while His bark one builds anew, another stops The ribs of his, that hath made many a voyage; One hammers at the prow, one at the poop; This shapeth oars, that other cables twirls, The mizen one repairs and main-sail rent So not by force of fire but art divine Boil’d here a glutinous thick mass, that round Lim’d all the shore beneath. I that beheld, But therein nought distinguish’d, save the surge, Rais’d by the boiling, in one mighty swell Heave, and by turns subsiding and fall. While there I fix’d my ken below, “Mark! mark!” my guide Exclaiming, drew me towards him from the place, Wherein I stood. I turn’d myself as one, Impatient to behold that which beheld He needs must shun, whom sudden fear unmans, That he his flight delays not for the view.

Behind me I discern’d a devil black, That running, up advanc’d along the rock.

Ah! what fierce cruelty his look bespake!

In act how bitter did he seem, with wings Buoyant outstretch’d and feet of nimblest tread!

His shoulder proudly eminent and sharp Was with a sinner charg’d; by either haunch He held him, the foot’s sinew griping fast.

“Ye of our bridge!” he cried, “keen-talon’d fiends!

Lo! one of Santa Zita’s elders! Him Whelm ye beneath, while I return for more.

That land hath store of such. All men are there, Except Bonturo, barterers: of ‘no’

For lucre there an ‘aye’ is quickly made.”

Him dashing down, o’er the rough rock he turn’d, Nor ever after thief a mastiff loos’d Sped with like eager haste. That other sank And forthwith writing to the surface rose.

But those dark demons, shrouded by the bridge, Cried “Here the hallow’d visage saves not: here Is other swimming than in Serchio’s wave.

Wherefore if thou desire we rend thee not, Take heed thou mount not o’er the pitch.” This said, They grappled him with more than hundred hooks, And shouted: “Cover’d thou must sport thee here; So, if thou canst, in secret mayst thou filch.”

E’en thus the cook bestirs him, with his grooms, To thrust the flesh into the caldron down With flesh-hooks, that it float not on the top.

Me then my guide bespake: “Lest they descry, That thou art here, behind a craggy rock Bend low and screen thee; and whate’er of force Be offer’d me, or insult, fear thou not: For I am well advis’d, who have been erst In the like fray.” Beyond the bridge’s head Therewith he pass’d, and reaching the sixth pier, Behov’d him then a forehead terror-proof.

With storm and fury, as when dogs rush forth Upon the poor man’s back, who suddenly From whence he standeth makes his suit; so rush’d Those from beneath the arch, and against him Their weapons all they pointed. He aloud: “Be none of you outrageous: ere your time Dare seize me, come forth from amongst you one, Who having heard my words, decide he then If he shall tear these limbs.” They shouted loud, “Go, Malacoda!” Whereat one advanc’d, The others standing firm, and as he came, “What may this turn avail him?” he exclaim’d.

“Believ’st thou, Malacoda! I had come Thus far from all your skirmishing secure,”

My teacher answered, “without will divine And destiny propitious? Pass we then For so Heaven’s pleasure is, that I should lead Another through this savage wilderness.”

Forthwith so fell his pride, that he let drop The instrument of torture at his feet, And to the rest exclaim’d: “We have no power To strike him.” Then to me my guide: “O thou!

Who on the bridge among the crags dost sit Low crouching, safely now to me return.”

I rose, and towards him moved with speed: the fiends Meantime all forward drew: me terror seiz’d Lest they should break the compact they had made.

Thus issuing from Caprona, once I saw Th’ infantry dreading, lest his covenant The foe should break; so close he hemm’d them round.

I to my leader’s side adher’d, mine eyes With fixt and motionless observance bent On their unkindly visage. They their hooks Protruding, one the other thus bespake: “Wilt thou I touch him on the hip?” To whom Was answer’d: “Even so; nor miss thy aim.”

But he, who was in conf’rence with my guide, Turn’d rapid round, and thus the demon spake: “Stay, stay thee, Scarmiglione!” Then to us He added: “Further footing to your step This rock affords not, shiver’d to the base Of the sixth arch. But would you still proceed, Up by this cavern go: not distant far, Another rock will yield you passage safe.

Yesterday, later by five hours than now, Twelve hundred threescore years and six had fill’d The circuit of their course, since here the way Was broken. Thitherward I straight dispatch Certain of these my scouts, who shall espy If any on the surface bask. With them Go ye: for ye shall find them nothing fell.

Come Alichino forth,” with that he cried, “And Calcabrina, and Cagnazzo thou!

The troop of ten let Barbariccia lead.

With Libicocco Draghinazzo haste,

Fang’d Ciriatto, Grafflacane fierce, And Farfarello, and mad Rubicant.

Search ye around the bubbling tar. For these, In safety lead them, where the other crag Uninterrupted traverses the dens.”

I then: “O master! what a sight is there!

Ah! without escort, journey we alone, Which, if thou know the way, I covet not.

Unless thy prudence fail thee, dost not mark How they do gnarl upon us, and their scowl Threatens us present tortures?” He replied: “I charge thee fear not: let them, as they will, Gnarl