Array Dante Alighieri - Harvard Classics Volume 20

A lake there lies, at foot of that proud Alp

That o’er the Tyrol locks Germania in,

Its name Benacus, from whose ample breast

A thousand springs, methinks, and more, between

Camonica and Garda, issuing forth,

Water the Apennine. There is a spot [140]

At midway of that lake, where he who bears

Of Trento’s flock the pastoral staff, with him

Of Brescia, and the Veronese, might each

Passing that way his benediction give.

A garrison of goodly site and strong

Peschiera [141]stands, to awe with front opposed

The Bergamese and Brescian, whence the shore

More slope each way descends. There, whatsoe’er

Benacus’ bosom holds not, tumbling o’er

Down falls, and winds a river flood beneath

Through the green pastures. Soon as in his course

The stream makes head, Benacus then no more

They call the name, but Mincius, till at last

Reaching Governo, into Po he falls.

Not far his course hath run, when a wide flat

It finds, which overstretching as a marsh

It covers, pestilent in summer oft.

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, gathering to that place,

Assembled; for its strength was great, enclosed

On all parts by the fen. On those dead bones

They rear’d themselves a city, for her sake

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 [142]by deceit

Was wronged 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

Græcia was emptied of her males, that scarce

The cradles were supplied, the seer was he

In Aulis, who with Calchas gave the sign

When first to cut the cable. Him they named

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, [143]

Practised in every slight of magic wile.

“Guido Bonatti [144]see: Asdente mark, [145]

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 [146]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 moved.

Argument.—Still in the eighth circle, which bears the name of Malebolge, they look down from the bridge that passes over its fifth gulf, upon the barterers or public peculators. These are plunged in a lake of boiling pitch, and guarded by Demons, to whom Virgil, leaving Dante apart, presents himself; and license being obtained to pass onward, both pursue their way.

Thus we from bridge to bridge, with other talk,

The which my drama cares not to rehearse,

Pass’d on; and to the summit reaching, stood

To view another gap, within the round

Of Malebolge, other bootless pangs.

Marvellous darkness shadow’d o’er the place.

In the Venetians’ arsenal as boils

Through wintry months tenacious pitch, to smear

Their unsound vessels; for the inclement time

Seafaring men restrains, and in that while

His bark one builds anew, another stops

The ribs of his that hath made many a voyage,

One hammers at the prow, one at the poop,

This shapeth oars, that other cables twirls,

The mizzen one repairs, and main-sail rent;

So, not by force of fire but art divine,

Boil’d here a glutinous thick mass, that round

Limed all the shore beneath. I that beheld,

But therein naught distinguish’d, save the bubbles

Raised by the boiling, and one mighty swell

Heave, and by turns subsiding fall. While there

I fix’d my ken below, “Mark! mark!” my guide

Exclaiming, drew me toward him from the place

Wherein I stood. I turn’d myself, as one

Impatient to behold that which beheld

He needs must shun, whom sudden fear unmans,

That he his flight delays not for the view.

Behind me I discern’d a devil black,

That running up advanced along the rock.

Ah! what fierce cruelty his look bespake.

In act how bitter did he seem, with wings

Buoyant outstretch’d and feet of nimblest tread.

His shoulder, proudly eminent and sharp,

Was with a sinner charged; by either haunch

He held him, the foot’s sinew griping fast.

“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 ‘ay’ is quickly made.”

Him dashing down, o’er the rough rock he turn’d;

Nor ever after thief a mastiff loosed

Sped with like eager haste. That other sank,

And forthwith writing to the surface rose.

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 advised, who have been erst

In the like fray.” Beyond the bridge’s head

Therewith he pass’d; and reaching the sixth pier,

Behoved him then a forehead terror-proof.

With storm and fury, as when dogs rush forth

Upon the poor man’s back, who suddenly

From whence he standeth makes his suit; so rush’d

Those from beneath the arch, and against him

Their weapons all they pointed. He, aloud:

“Be none of you outrageous: ere your tine

Dare seize me, come forth from amongst you one,

Who having heard my words, decide he then

If he shall tear these limbs.” They shouted loud,

“Go, Malacoda!” Whereat one advanced,

The others standing firm, and as he came,

“What may this turn avail him?” he exclaim’d.

“Believest thou, Malacoda! I had come

Thus far from all your skirmishing secure,”

My teacher answer’d, “without will divine

And destiny propitious? Pass we then;