Inferno: Canto XXVII

Now calm and tranquil rose the flame on high,
Its speech concluded — and was moving on.
Since the sweet poet gave it liberty, —

When from behind, another came in sight.
Which, sending forth a low tumultuous moan.
Our eyes attracted to its curling height.

As the Sicilian bull (which roar'd of old
First with his shrieks, as justly came to pass.
Whose cruel hand had wrought the monstrous mould)

Rebellow'd loudly with the sufferer's cry,
. 'So that, all fashion'd as it was of brass.
It seem'd to be transpierced by agony;

Thus — at the first, no way or outlet found
From 'mid th' enclosing fire — the words of woe
Into its language changed their proper sound.

But when, a passage won, the flames display'd
Their summits — quivering, as the tongue below
Imparted the direction they obey'd —

These words broke forth: "O thou, to whom I speak.
In Lombard phrase but lately heard to say:
'Thou may'st depart — from thee no more I seek' —

Though somewhat tardily to thee I came.
Grieve not to pause and hold discourse, I pray;
Thou seest it grieves not me, though wrapt in flame.

If to this glooming world thou hast of late
Been hurried downward from fair Italy,
That land belov'd, whence all my crimes I date —

Say, if Romagna is at peace or war?
For from the hills that 'twixt Urbino lie
And those whence Tiber springs, my birth I draw."

Still was I bending down to hear the flame,
When suddenly mine escort touch'd my side.
Saying: "Speak thou, for he from Latium came."

And I, whose answer was already framed.
Without delay obey'd my faithful guide:
"O thou secreted spirit!" I exclaim'd, —

"Devoid of war within her tyrant's breast
Romagna is not now, nor e'er hath been;
But when I left her, war was then supprest.

Unchanged for many years remains Ravenna's land;
There broods Polenta's eagle, so that e'en
O'er Cervia too its ample wings expand.

In Forli, which such long resistance made,
And drench'd the ground with streams of Frenchmen's blood.
The green arms of the Lion are obey'd.

The mastiffs of Verucchio, young and old.
Whose hands, with slaughter stain'd, Montagna rued.
Pierce with their teeth, and suck the prey they hold.

There where Santerno and Lamone glide,
The Lion of the snowy field commands.
Who, each returning autumn, changes side.

That town, whose bank by Savio's stream is laved.
E'en as between the plain and mount she stands.
So liveth, partly free, and part enslaved.

But who thou art, I prithee, tell me now;
Be not more sullen than the rest; — so may
Thy name on earth uphold a lofty brow."

Then, when in its peculiar way had roar'd
The fire awhile, its top was seen to play
This way and that; — anon a blast it pour'd:

"If I believed my answer would be made
To one who ever could the world regain.
This flame should rest in peace, nor more be sway'd;

But since no living soul, if true it be
What I have heard, e'er left this gulph of pain, —
Fearless of infamy, I answer thee.

A soldier once — I next around me tied
St. Francis' cord, in hopes to purge my crime;
And truly had those hopes been verified.

But that the mighty Priest, whom evil take.
Allured me to my sins a second time;
And how, and why I will relation make.

While flesh and bone encompassed me around,
(My mother's gift,) my deeds resembled less
The lion than the fox: — such skill profound

In stratagems I show'd, and play'd my game
With so much wily craft and subtleness.
The world's far limits sounded with my fame.

But when I saw that time of life begin,
When every man, arriving near the port.
Should coil the ropes and take the canvass in; —

What first had pleased me, irksome seem'd to grow;
And to repentance and confession brought,
I had been blest;— alas, how wretched now!

The haughty prince of modern Pharisees,
Who near the Lateran his fierce warfare waged,
And not with Moors or Jewish enemies,

(For all were Christians whom his vengeful hand
Opposed; and none had Acre's walls besieged.
Or e'er had traffick'd in the Sultan's land,)

Regarded not his own exalted state
And holy office, nor my sacred cord.
Which should the form it girds attenuate: —

But, as of old, to cure his leprosy,
Silvester was by Constantine implored; —
So in a more commanding tone did he

Bid me to cure the fever of his pride:
Counsel he ask'd, but as he seem'd to jest.
To his demand an answer I denied.

Again he said to me: 'Be not afraid —
I do absolve thee; — tell the means, how best
May Pellestrino in the dust be laid.

Heaven, as thou know'st, I have the power at will
To lock or unlock; hence the keys are twain.
Which erst my predecessor prized so ill.'

Then had his cogent arguments full sway.
When silence could procure me little gain;
And I: 'O Father, since you wash away

The sin which now it needs I must commit; —
Large be your promise — your performance slack, —
Thus will you triumph in your lofty seat.'

When I was dead, — to bear my soul away
Saint Francis came; but lo! a Cherub black
Exclaim'd: 'Forbear — nor take my lawful prey;

Down must he go to where my servants are,
Because he has of fraud the adviser been.
Since which, my hand hath held him by the hair.

Nought but repentance ever can absolve; —
But to repent, and yet incline to sin,
A contradiction would in terms involve.'

Oh! with what anguish from him did I bound,
When seizing me, he said: 'Perhaps you thought
I was not a logician so profound.'

He carried me to Minos, who eight times
Around him coil'd his tail, and bit it, fraught
With mighty rage: — then said: 'His are the crimes

That meet their doom within th' encircling fire.'
I therefore, as you see, am lost for aye.
And thus enveloped, rove in torment dire."

When he had finish'd his discourse forlorn,
The flame departed, moaning on its way,
And writhing to and fro its sharpen'd horn.

Onward we passed — my guide and I behind, —
Till o'er the rock we reach'd another road.
Arching the foss, in which those souls are fined

Who bear the weight of all the strife they sowed.