Inferno: Canto XVI

The murmur of the waters now I heard,
As downward to the neighbouring round they pour.
And like the hum of bees the noise appear'd;

When from a band of spirits, that pass'd by
Beneath the pelting of the fiery shower.
Three issued forth with great celerity:

Tow'rds us they came, and all at once cried: "Stand —
Thou, whom I judge to be, from thine attire,
A native of our own degraded land."

Ah me! what wounds upon their limbs I view'd.
Recent, and old, and cauterised by fire!
My grief is at the very thought renew'd.

Hearing their cry, the teacher turn'd to me,
Exclaiming: "Let thy foot awhile be stay'd.
For to these souls is due some courtesy;

And did the nature of the place permit.
Which hurls such fiery darts, — I should have said
That haste would rather thee than them befit."

As we drew up, they all their ancient plaint
Commenced again; and when to us they came.
All three a circle form'd, and round they went.

As champions stript, anointed for the fight.
Their hold and vantage scan with careful aim.
Ere they with blows together try their might;

Thus wheeling round, did each to me his look
Direct, so that the neck and foot the while
A contrary direction ever took.

"And if," said one, "this wretched place forlorn.
And our scorch'd faces, sorrowful and vile,
Bring on ourselves and on our prayers thy scorn, —

Still let our fame incline thy soul to tell
Who thou mayst be, that thus, with living feet.
Securely glidest o'er the paths of hell.

He in whose track I tread, though now he be
All naked and deprived of skin, had yet
Far higher rank than would be deem'd by thee.

The grandson was he of Gualdrada good —
Brave Guidoguerra, of distinguish'd fame;
Great deeds he wrought by skill and hardihood.

The other near to me, that beats the sand.
Is Tegghiaio Aldobrand, whose honoured name
Should in the world above some praise command.

And I, who with them am in torment placed,
Was Rusticucci; and in truth my woe
May to my haughty wife be chiefly traced."

Could I have been protected from the fire,
I should have thrown myself 'midst them below.
Nor would my guide have thwarted my desire;

But since I dared not tempt the blasting flame,
My wishes to embrace them were repressed.
And fear my friendly eagerness o'ercame.

I then began: "'Tis not disdain, but grief
For your sad fate, which penetrates my breast;
And from the moment of my first belief

That persons like to you were on their way,
(Such import did my master's words imply,)
I felt a pang, that time can scarce allay.

Your country gave me birth — your names renown'd
Are ever living in my memory;
And still I love to hear your deeds resound.

I leave the gall, — of that sweet fruit in quest
Which hath been promised by my faithful guide.
But to the centre must I journey first."

"So may thy spirit animate thy frame
Through many a year to come," he then replied,
"And after death shine forth thy glorious name.

As thou inform me whether to this day
Valour and courtesy our city grace.
As they were wont; — or are they cast away?

For Borsieri, whom thou viewest there,
Condemn'd but lately to this dismal place.
Gives us much pain by what he doth declare."

"Thee, Florence, have an upstart race and new,
And sudden gains, so fill'd with waste and pride,
That thine excess thou dost already rue!"

Thus cried I — looking up; and they forsooth,
Who took this sentence for an answer, eyed
Each other, like to men who hear the truth.

"If at all times an answer to bestow,
With no more cost," they said, "to thee is given,
O happy thou from whom such accents flow!

Wherefore if thou escape these realms of night.
And e'er return to see the stars of heaven, —
Then, when to say — 'I was' — shall give delight,

Forget not to make mention of us there."
This said — they broke the circle; and again
Their feet appeared like wings to cut the air:

So quick they vanished, that with greater speed
None could have even utter'd an Amen:
The master then thought fitting to proceed: —

I followed him, and short was our career,
Before the sound of water so increased.
That one could scarcely make the other hear.

E'en as that river, which derives its source
From Veso, — then pursuing to the east.
On Appenines' left side, its separate course —

Call'd Acquacheta higher up, before
Its waves adown the humble valley flow,
(At Forli bearing the same name no more,;

Re-bellows o'er St. Benedict on high.
As from the Alps it headlong falls below;
Whence thousands might derive a full supply;

Thus from the summit of a broken rock
Rush'd the dark stream with such tremendous din.
Our ears had soon been deafen'd by the shock.

Around my waist I had a girdle tied.
With which indeed I once had thought to win
The nimble Panther of the spotted hide:

Forth from my loins this girdle I unbind,
Obedient to my courteous guide's command.
And gave it to him in a knot entwined.

Then to the right he turn'd himself around.
And cast it over from the lofty strand
E'en to the bottom of the gulf profound.

I said within me: At this signal new,
Which thus my master watches with his eye.
Some novelty most surely will ensue.

Alas, how cautious mortals ought to be
Tow'rds those, who not the deed alone espy.
But by their skill the inmost thoughts can see!

"Full soon, what I am waiting for," he said,
"Shall upwards come; and that on which now dwell
Thy dreaming thoughts, ere long shall be display'd."

That truth which bears the semblance of a lie
Should never pass the lips if possible: —
Though crime be absent — still disgrace is nigh.

But here I needs must speak; and by the rhymes,
Reader, I swear, of this my Comedy,
(So may they live with fame to future times,)

That through the gross and murky air I saw
A monstrous figure swimming up to me.
Such as would fill the stoutest heart with awe —

Like unto one returning, that hath been
To loose an anchor, which fast grappling clings
To rocks, or aught beneath the waves unseen.

Who gathers in his feet, and upwards springs.