Purgatorio: Canto XIV

“Who is this that circles our mount ere death have given him flight, and opens and shuts his eyes at his will?”

“I know not who he may be, but I know that he is not alone; do thou question him who art nearer to him, and gently greet him that he may speak.”

Thus two spirits, one leaning against the other, were discoursing of me there on the right hand; then held up their faces to speak to me;

and one said: “O soul, that fixed yet in thy body dost journey towards heaven, for charity console us, and tell us

whence thou comest, and who thou art; for thou dost make us marvel so greatly at thy grace, as needs must a thing that never was.”

And I: “Through the midst of Tuscany there spreads a stream which rises in Falterona and a course of a hundred miles satiates it not.

From its banks I bring this body; to tell you who I may be were to speak in vain, for my name as yet sounds not for much.”

“If I penetrate truly thy meaning with my understanding,” then answered me he who first spake, “thou art talking of the Arno.”

And the other said to him: “Why did he conceal the name of that river, even as one does of horrible things?”

And the shade who was asked this question, acquitted him thus: “I know not, but verily ’tis meet that the name of such a vale perish;

for from its beginning (where the rugged mountain-chain, whence Pelorus is cut off, is so fruitful that in few places it exceeds that mark)

as far as there where it yields itself to restore that which the sky soaks up from the sea, whence rivers have that which flows with them,

virtue is driven forth as an enemy by all, even as a snake, either because of the ill-favoured place or of evil habit which incites them;

wherefore the dwellers in the wretched vale have so changed their nature that it seems as if Circe had them in her pasturing.

Among filthy hogs, more worthy of acorns than of other food made for use of man, it first directs its feeble course.

Then, coming downward it finds curs snarling more than their power warrants, and from them scornfully turns aside its snout.

On it goes in its descent, and, the greater its increase, the more it finds the dogs growing to wolves, this accurst and ill-fated ditch.

Having then descended through many deep gorges, it finds the foxes, so full of fraud that they fear no wit that may trap them.

Nor will I cease speaking, for all that another may hear me; and it will be well for him if he mind him again of what true prophecy unfolds to me.

I see thy grandson, who is becoming a hunter of those wolves on the bank of the fierce river, and strikes them all with terror.

He sells their flesh while yet alive; then slaughters them like worn-out cattle: many he deprives of life and himself of honour.

He cometh forth bloody from the sad wood; he leaves it such, that hence a thousand years it re-woods not itself to its primal state.”

As at the announcement of grievous ills the face of him who listens is troubled, from whatever side the peril may assault him,

so saw I the other soul, that had turned round to hear, grow troubled and sad, after it had gathered these words to itself.

The speech of the one and the other’s countenance made me long to know their names, and question I made of them mingled with prayers:

wherefore the spirit that first spake to me, began again: “Thou wouldst that I condescend in doing that for thee which thou wilt not do for me;

but since God wills that so much of his grace shine forth in thee, I will not be chary with thee; therefore know that I am Guido del Duca.

My blood was so inflamed with envy, that if I had seen a man make him glad, thou wouldst have seen me suffused with lividness.

Of my sowing such straw I reap. O human folk, why set the heart there where exclusion of partnership is necessary?

This is Rinier; this is the glory and the honour of the House of Calboli, where none since hath made himself heir of his worth.

And not only his blood between the Po and the mountains, and the seashore and the Reno, is stripped of the good required of truth and chivalry,

for inside these boundaries is choked with poisonous growths, so that tardily now would they be rooted out by cultivation.

Where is the good Lizio, and Arrigo Mainardi, Pier Traversaro and Guido di Carpigna? O ye Romagnols turned to bastards!

When in Bologna shall a Fabbro take root again? when in Faenza a Bernardin di Fosco, noble scion of a lowly plant?

Marvel thou not, Tuscan, if I weep, when I remember with Guido da Prata, Ugolin d’ Azzo who lived among us,

Federico Tignoso and his fellowship, the House of Traversaro, and the Anastagi (the one race and the other now without heirs),

the ladies and the knights, the toils and the sports of which love and courtesy enamoured us, there where hearts are grown so wicked.

O Brettinoro, why dost thou not flee away, since thy household is gone forth, and much people in order not to be guilty?

Well doth Bagnacaval that beareth no more sons, and ill doth Castrocaro, and Conio worse, that yet troubleth to beget such Counts;

the Pagani will do well when their Demon shall go away; but not indeed that unsullied witness may ever remain of them.

O Ugolin de’ Fantolin thy name is safe, since no more expectation is there of one who may blacken it by degenerating.

But now go thy way, Tuscan, for now it delights me far more to weep than to talk, so hath our discourse wrung my spirit.”

We knew that those dear souls heard us going; therefore by their silence they made us confident of the way.

After we were left alone journeying on, a voice, that seemed like lightning when it cleaves the air, smote against us, saying:

“Everyone that findeth me shall slay me”; and fled like a thunderclap which peals away if suddenly the cloud bursts.

When from it our hearing had truce, lo the second, with such loud crash that ’twas like thunder that follows quickly:

“I am Aglauros who was turned to stone” and then to press me close to the Poet, I made a step back, and not forward.

Now was the air quiet on every side, and he said to me: “That was the hard bit which ought to hold man within his bounds.

But ye take the bait, so that the old adversary’s hook draws you to him, and therefore little avails bridle or lure.

The heavens call to you, and circle around you, displaying unto you their eternal splendours, and your eye gazes only to earth; wherefore he who discerns all things doth buffet you.”