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THE very tongue, whose keen reproof before Had wounded me, that either cheek was stain'd, Now minister'd my cure. So have I heard, Achilles and his father's javelin caus'd Pain first, and then the boon of health restor'd.
Turning our back upon the vale of woe, W cross'd th' encircled mound in silence. There Was twilight dim, that far long the gloom Mine eye advanc'd not: but I heard a horn Sounded aloud. The peal it blew had made The thunder feeble. Following its course The adverse way, my strained eyes were bent On that one spot. So terrible a blast Orlando blew not, when that dismal rout O'erthrew the host of Charlemagne, and quench'd His saintly warfare. Thitherward not long My head was rais'd, when many lofty towers Methought I spied. "Master," said I, "what land Is this?" He answer'd straight: "Too long a s.p.a.ce Of intervening darkness has thine eye To traverse: thou hast therefore widely err'd In thy imagining. Thither arriv'd Thou well shalt see, how distance can delude The sense. A little therefore urge thee on."
Then tenderly he caught me by the hand; "Yet know," said he, "ere farther we advance, That it less strange may seem, these are not towers, But giants. In the pit they stand immers'd, Each from his navel downward, round the bank."
As when a fog disperseth gradually, Our vision traces what the mist involves Condens'd in air; so piercing through the gross And gloomy atmosphere, as more and more We near'd toward the brink, mine error fled, And fear came o'er me. As with circling round Of turrets, Montereggion crowns his walls, E'en thus the sh.o.r.e, encompa.s.sing th' abyss, Was turreted with giants, half their length Uprearing, horrible, whom Jove from heav'n Yet threatens, when his mutt'ring thunder rolls.
Of one already I descried the face, Shoulders, and breast, and of the belly huge Great part, and both arms down along his ribs.
All-teeming nature, when her plastic hand Left framing of these monsters, did display Past doubt her wisdom, taking from mad War Such slaves to do his bidding; and if she Repent her not of th' elephant and whale, Who ponders well confesses her therein Wiser and more discreet; for when brute force And evil will are back'd with subtlety, Resistance none avails. His visage seem'd In length and bulk, as doth the pine, that tops Saint Peter's Roman fane; and th' other bones Of like proportion, so that from above The bank, which girdled him below, such height Arose his stature, that three Friezelanders Had striv'n in vain to reach but to his hair.
Full thirty ample palms was he expos'd Downward from whence a man his garments loops.
"Raphel bai ameth sabi almi,"
So shouted his fierce lips, which sweeter hymns Became not; and my guide address'd him thus:
"O senseless spirit! let thy horn for thee Interpret: therewith vent thy rage, if rage Or other pa.s.sion wring thee. Search thy neck, There shalt thou find the belt that binds it on.
Wild spirit! lo, upon thy mighty breast Where hangs the baldrick!" Then to me he spake: "He doth accuse himself. Nimrod is this, Through whose ill counsel in the world no more One tongue prevails. But pa.s.s we on, nor waste Our words; for so each language is to him, As his to others, understood by none."
Then to the leftward turning sped we forth, And at a sling's throw found another shade Far fiercer and more huge. I cannot say What master hand had girt him; but he held Behind the right arm fetter'd, and before The other with a chain, that fasten'd him From the neck down, and five times round his form Apparent met the wreathed links. "This proud one Would of his strength against almighty Jove Make trial," said my guide; "whence he is thus Requited: Ephialtes him they call.
"Great was his prowess, when the giants brought Fear on the G.o.ds: those arms, which then he piled, Now moves he never." Forthwith I return'd: "Fain would I, if 't were possible, mine eyes Of Briareus immeasurable gain'd Experience next." He answer'd: "Thou shalt see Not far from hence Antaeus, who both speaks And is unfetter'd, who shall place us there Where guilt is at its depth. Far onward stands Whom thou wouldst fain behold, in chains, and made Like to this spirit, save that in his looks More fell he seems." By violent earthquake rock'd Ne'er shook a tow'r, so reeling to its base, As Ephialtes. More than ever then I dreaded death, nor than the terror more Had needed, if I had not seen the cords That held him fast. We, straightway journeying on, Came to Antaeus, who five ells complete Without the head, forth issued from the cave.
"O thou, who in the fortunate vale, that made Great Scipio heir of glory, when his sword Drove back the troop of Hannibal in flight, Who thence of old didst carry for thy spoil An hundred lions; and if thou hadst fought In the high conflict on thy brethren's side, Seems as men yet believ'd, that through thine arm The sons of earth had conquer'd, now vouchsafe To place us down beneath, where numbing cold Locks up Cocytus. Force not that we crave Or t.i.tyus' help or Typhon's. Here is one Can give what in this realm ye covet. Stoop Therefore, nor scornfully distort thy lip.
He in the upper world can yet bestow Renown on thee, for he doth live, and looks For life yet longer, if before the time Grace call him not unto herself." Thus spake The teacher. He in haste forth stretch'd his hands, And caught my guide. Alcides whilom felt That grapple straighten'd score. Soon as my guide Had felt it, he bespake me thus: "This way That I may clasp thee;" then so caught me up, That we were both one burden. As appears The tower of Carisenda, from beneath Where it doth lean, if chance a pa.s.sing cloud So sail across, that opposite it hangs, Such then Antaeus seem'd, as at mine ease I mark'd him stooping. I were fain at times T' have pa.s.s'd another way. Yet in th' abyss, That Lucifer with Judas low ingulfs, Lightly he plac'd us; nor there leaning stay'd, But rose as in a bark the stately mast.
CANTO x.x.xII
COULD I command rough rhimes and hoa.r.s.e, to suit That hole of sorrow, o'er which ev'ry rock His firm abutment rears, then might the vein Of fancy rise full springing: but not mine Such measures, and with falt'ring awe I touch The mighty theme; for to describe the depth Of all the universe, is no emprize To jest with, and demands a tongue not us'd To infant babbling. But let them a.s.sist My song, the tuneful maidens, by whose aid Amphion wall'd in Thebes, so with the truth My speech shall best accord. Oh ill-starr'd folk, Beyond all others wretched! who abide In such a mansion, as scarce thought finds words To speak of, better had ye here on earth Been flocks or mountain goats. As down we stood In the dark pit beneath the giants' feet, But lower far than they, and I did gaze Still on the lofty battlement, a voice Bespoke me thus: "Look how thou walkest. Take Good heed, thy soles do tread not on the heads Of thy poor brethren." Thereupon I turn'd, And saw before and underneath my feet A lake, whose frozen surface liker seem'd To gla.s.s than water. Not so thick a veil In winter e'er hath Austrian Danube spread O'er his still course, nor Tanais far remote Under the chilling sky. Roll'd o'er that ma.s.s Had Tabernich or Pietrapana fall'n,
Not e'en its rim had creak'd. As peeps the frog Croaking above the wave, what time in dreams The village gleaner oft pursues her toil, So, to where modest shame appears, thus low Blue pinch'd and shrin'd in ice the spirits stood, Moving their teeth in shrill note like the stork.
His face each downward held; their mouth the cold, Their eyes express'd the dolour of their heart.
A s.p.a.ce I look'd around, then at my feet Saw two so strictly join'd, that of their head The very hairs were mingled. "Tell me ye, Whose bosoms thus together press," said I, "Who are ye?" At that sound their necks they bent, And when their looks were lifted up to me, Straightway their eyes, before all moist within, Distill'd upon their lips, and the frost bound The tears betwixt those orbs and held them there.
Plank unto plank hath never cramp clos'd up So stoutly. Whence like two enraged goats They clash'd together; them such fury seiz'd.
And one, from whom the cold both ears had reft, Exclaim'd, still looking downward: "Why on us Dost speculate so long? If thou wouldst know Who are these two, the valley, whence his wave Bisenzio slopes, did for its master own Their sire Alberto, and next him themselves.
They from one body issued; and throughout Caina thou mayst search, nor find a shade More worthy in congealment to be fix'd, Not him, whose breast and shadow Arthur's land At that one blow dissever'd, not Focaccia, No not this spirit, whose o'erjutting head Obstructs my onward view: he bore the name Of Mascheroni: Tuscan if thou be, Well knowest who he was: and to cut short All further question, in my form behold What once was Camiccione. I await Carlino here my kinsman, whose deep guilt Shall wash out mine." A thousand visages Then mark'd I, which the keen and eager cold Had shap'd into a doggish grin; whence creeps A shiv'ring horror o'er me, at the thought Of those frore shallows. While we journey'd on Toward the middle, at whose point unites All heavy substance, and I trembling went Through that eternal chillness, I know not If will it were or destiny, or chance, But, pa.s.sing 'midst the heads, my foot did strike With violent blow against the face of one.
"Wherefore dost bruise me?" weeping, he exclaim'd, "Unless thy errand be some fresh revenge For Montaperto, wherefore troublest me?"
I thus: "Instructor, now await me here, That I through him may rid me of my doubt.
Thenceforth what haste thou wilt." The teacher paus'd, And to that shade I spake, who bitterly Still curs'd me in his wrath. "What art thou, speak, That railest thus on others?" He replied: "Now who art thou, that smiting others' cheeks Through Antenora roamest, with such force As were past suff'rance, wert thou living still?"
"And I am living, to thy joy perchance,"
Was my reply, "if fame be dear to thee, That with the rest I may thy name enrol."
"The contrary of what I covet most,"
Said he, "thou tender'st: hence; nor vex me more.
Ill knowest thou to flatter in this vale."
Then seizing on his hinder scalp, I cried: "Name thee, or not a hair shall tarry here."
"Rend all away," he answer'd, "yet for that I will not tell nor show thee who I am, Though at my head thou pluck a thousand times."
Now I had grasp'd his tresses, and stript off More than one tuft, he barking, with his eyes Drawn in and downward, when another cried, "What ails thee, Bocca? Sound not loud enough Thy chatt'ring teeth, but thou must bark outright?
What devil wrings thee?"--"Now," said I, "be dumb, Accursed traitor! to thy shame of thee True tidings will I bear."--"Off," he replied, "Tell what thou list; but as thou escape from hence To speak of him whose tongue hath been so glib, Forget not: here he wails the Frenchman's gold.
'Him of Duera,' thou canst say, 'I mark'd, Where the starv'd sinners pine.' If thou be ask'd What other shade was with them, at thy side Is Beccaria, whose red gorge distain'd The biting axe of Florence. Farther on, If I misdeem not, Soldanieri bides, With Ganellon, and Tribaldello, him Who op'd Faenza when the people slept."
We now had left him, pa.s.sing on our way, When I beheld two spirits by the ice Pent in one hollow, that the head of one Was cowl unto the other; and as bread Is raven'd up through hunger, th' uppermost Did so apply his fangs to th' other's brain, Where the spine joins it. Not more furiously On Menalippus' temples Tydeus gnaw'd, Than on that skull and on its garbage he.
"O thou who show'st so beastly sign of hate 'Gainst him thou prey'st on, let me hear," said I "The cause, on such condition, that if right Warrant thy grievance, knowing who ye are, And what the colour of his sinning was, I may repay thee in the world above, If that, wherewith I speak be moist so long."
CANTO x.x.xIII
HIS jaws uplifting from their fell repast, That sinner wip'd them on the hairs o' th' head, Which he behind had mangled, then began: "Thy will obeying, I call up afresh Sorrow past cure, which but to think of wrings My heart, or ere I tell on't. But if words, That I may utter, shall prove seed to bear Fruit of eternal infamy to him, The traitor whom I gnaw at, thou at once Shalt see me speak and weep. Who thou mayst be I know not, nor how here below art come: But Florentine thou seemest of a truth, When I do hear thee. Know I was on earth Count Ugolino, and th' Archbishop he Ruggieri. Why I neighbour him so close, Now list. That through effect of his ill thoughts In him my trust reposing, I was ta'en And after murder'd, need is not I tell.
What therefore thou canst not have heard, that is, How cruel was the murder, shalt thou hear, And know if he have wrong'd me. A small grate Within that mew, which for my sake the name Of famine bears, where others yet must pine, Already through its opening sev'ral moons Had shown me, when I slept the evil sleep, That from the future tore the curtain off.
This one, methought, as master of the sport, Rode forth to chase the gaunt wolf and his whelps Unto the mountain, which forbids the sight Of Lucca to the Pisan. With lean brachs Inquisitive and keen, before him rang'd Lanfranchi with Sismondi and Gualandi.
After short course the father and the sons Seem'd tir'd and lagging, and methought I saw The sharp tusks gore their sides. When I awoke Before the dawn, amid their sleep I heard My sons (for they were with me) weep and ask For bread. Right cruel art thou, if no pang Thou feel at thinking what my heart foretold; And if not now, why use thy tears to flow?
Now had they waken'd; and the hour drew near When they were wont to bring us food; the mind Of each misgave him through his dream, and I Heard, at its outlet underneath lock'd up The' horrible tower: whence uttering not a word I look'd upon the visage of my sons.
I wept not: so all stone I felt within.
They wept: and one, my little Anslem, cried: "Thou lookest so! Father what ails thee?" Yet I shed no tear, nor answer'd all that day Nor the next night, until another sun Came out upon the world. When a faint beam Had to our doleful prison made its way, And in four countenances I descry'd The image of my own, on either hand Through agony I bit, and they who thought I did it through desire of feeding, rose O' th' sudden, and cried, 'Father, we should grieve Far less, if thou wouldst eat of us: thou gav'st These weeds of miserable flesh we wear,
'And do thou strip them off from us again.'
Then, not to make them sadder, I kept down My spirit in stillness. That day and the next We all were silent. Ah, obdurate earth!
Why open'dst not upon us? When we came To the fourth day, then Geddo at my feet Outstretch'd did fling him, crying, 'Hast no help For me, my father!' There he died, and e'en Plainly as thou seest me, saw I the three Fall one by one 'twixt the fifth day and sixth:
"Whence I betook me now grown blind to grope Over them all, and for three days aloud Call'd on them who were dead. Then fasting got The mastery of grief." Thus having spoke,
Once more upon the wretched skull his teeth He fasten'd, like a mastiff's 'gainst the bone Firm and unyielding. Oh thou Pisa! shame Of all the people, who their dwelling make In that fair region, where th' Italian voice Is heard, since that thy neighbours are so slack To punish, from their deep foundations rise Capraia and Gorgona, and dam up The mouth of Arno, that each soul in thee May perish in the waters! What if fame Reported that thy castles were betray'd By Ugolino, yet no right hadst thou To stretch his children on the rack. For them, Brigata, Ugaccione, and the pair Of gentle ones, of whom my song hath told, Their tender years, thou modern Thebes! did make Uncapable of guilt. Onward we pa.s.s'd, Where others skarf'd in rugged folds of ice Not on their feet were turn'd, but each revers'd.
There very weeping suffers not to weep; For at their eyes grief seeking pa.s.sage finds Impediment, and rolling inward turns For increase of sharp anguish: the first tears Hang cl.u.s.ter'd, and like crystal vizors show, Under the socket br.i.m.m.i.n.g all the cup.
Now though the cold had from my face dislodg'd Each feeling, as 't were callous, yet me seem'd Some breath of wind I felt. "Whence cometh this,"
Said I, "my master? Is not here below All vapour quench'd?"--"'Thou shalt be speedily,"
He answer'd, "where thine eye shall tell thee whence The cause descrying of this airy shower."
Then cried out one in the chill crust who mourn'd: "O souls so cruel! that the farthest post Hath been a.s.sign'd you, from this face remove The harden'd veil, that I may vent the grief Impregnate at my heart, some little s.p.a.ce Ere it congeal again!" I thus replied: "Say who thou wast, if thou wouldst have mine aid; And if I extricate thee not, far down As to the lowest ice may I descend!"
"The friar Alberigo," answered he, "Am I, who from the evil garden pluck'd Its fruitage, and am here repaid, the date More luscious for my fig."--"Hah!" I exclaim'd, "Art thou too dead!"--"How in the world aloft It fareth with my body," answer'd he, "I am right ignorant. Such privilege Hath Ptolomea, that ofttimes the soul Drops. .h.i.ther, ere by Atropos divorc'd.
And that thou mayst wipe out more willingly The glazed tear-drops that o'erlay mine eyes, Know that the soul, that moment she betrays, As I did, yields her body to a fiend Who after moves and governs it at will, Till all its time be rounded; headlong she Falls to this cistern. And perchance above Doth yet appear the body of a ghost, Who here behind me winters. Him thou know'st, If thou but newly art arriv'd below.
The years are many that have pa.s.s'd away, Since to this fastness Branca Doria came."
"Now," answer'd I, "methinks thou mockest me, For Branca Doria never yet hath died, But doth all natural functions of a man, Eats, drinks, and sleeps, and putteth raiment on."