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THE DIVINE COMEDY: Inferno, Purgatorio & Paradiso (3 Classic Translations in One Edition). Dante AlighieriЧитать онлайн книгу.

THE DIVINE COMEDY: Inferno, Purgatorio & Paradiso (3 Classic Translations in One Edition) - Dante Alighieri


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which spake that hardy word. Then one

       Maim'd of each hand, uplifted in the gloom

       The bleeding stumps, that they with gory spots

       Sullied his face, and cried: 'Remember thee

       Of Mosca, too, I who, alas! exclaim'd,

       "The deed once done there is an end," that prov'd

       A seed of sorrow to the Tuscan race."

       I added: "Ay, and death to thine own tribe."

       Whence heaping woe on woe he hurried off,

       As one grief stung to madness. But I there

       Still linger'd to behold the troop, and saw

       Things, such as I may fear without more proof

       To tell of, but that conscience makes me firm,

       The boon companion, who her strong breast-plate

       Buckles on him, that feels no guilt within

       And bids him on and fear not. Without doubt

       I saw, and yet it seems to pass before me,

       A headless trunk, that even as the rest

       Of the sad flock pac'd onward. By the hair

       It bore the sever'd member, lantern-wise

       Pendent in hand, which look'd at us and said,

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       "Woe's me!" The spirit lighted thus himself,

       And two there were in one, and one in two.

       How that may be he knows who ordereth so.

       When at the bridge's foot direct he stood,

       His arm aloft he rear'd, thrusting the head

       Full in our view, that nearer we might hear

       The words, which thus it utter'd: "Now behold

       This grievous torment, thou, who breathing go'st

       To spy the dead; behold if any else

       Be terrible as this. And that on earth

       Thou mayst bear tidings of me, know that I

       Am Bertrand, he of Born, who gave King John

       The counsel mischievous. Father and son

       I set at mutual war. For Absalom

       And David more did not Ahitophel,

       Spurring them on maliciously to strife.

       For parting those so closely knit, my brain

       Parted, alas! I carry from its source,

       That in this trunk inhabits. Thus the law

       Of retribution fiercely works in me."

       SO were mine eyes inebriate with view

       Of the vast multitude, whom various wounds

       Disfigur'd, that they long'd to stay and weep.

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       But Virgil rous'd me: "What yet gazest on?

       Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight below

       Among the maim'd and miserable shades?

       Thou hast not shewn in any chasm beside

       This weakness. Know, if thou wouldst number them

       That two and twenty miles the valley winds

       Its circuit, and already is the moon

       Beneath our feet: the time permitted now

       Is short, and more not seen remains to see."

       "If thou," I straight replied, "hadst weigh'd the cause

       For which I look'd, thou hadst perchance excus'd

       The tarrying still." My leader part pursu'd

       His way, the while I follow'd, answering him,

       And adding thus: "Within that cave I deem,

       Whereon so fixedly I held my ken,

       There is a spirit dwells, one of my blood,

       Wailing the crime that costs him now so dear."

       Then spake my master: "Let thy soul no more

       Afflict itself for him. Direct elsewhere

       Its thought, and leave him. At the bridge's foot

       I mark'd how he did point with menacing look

       At thee, and heard him by the others nam'd

       Geri of Bello. Thou so wholly then

       Wert busied with his spirit, who once rul'd

       The towers of Hautefort, that thou lookedst not

       That way, ere he was gone."—"O guide belov'd!

       His violent death yet unaveng'd," said I,

       "By any, who are partners in his shame,

       Made him contemptuous: therefore, as I think,

       He pass'd me speechless by; and doing so

       Hath made me more compassionate his fate."

       So we discours'd to where the rock first show'd

       The other valley, had more light been there,

       E'en to the lowest depth. Soon as we came

       O'er the last cloister in the dismal rounds

       Of Malebolge, and the brotherhood

       Were to our view expos'd, then many a dart

       Of sore lament assail'd me, headed all

       With points of thrilling pity, that I clos'd

       Both ears against the volley with mine hands.

       As were the torment, if each lazar-house

       Of Valdichiana, in the sultry time

       'Twixt July and September, with the isle

       Sardinia and Maremma's pestilent fen,

       Had heap'd their maladies all in one foss

       Together; such was here the torment: dire

       The stench, as issuing steams from fester'd limbs.

       We on the utmost shore of the long rock

       Descended still to leftward. Then my sight

       Was livelier to explore the depth, wherein

       The minister of the most mighty Lord,

       All-searching Justice, dooms to punishment

       The forgers noted on her dread record.

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       More rueful was it not methinks to see

       The nation in Aegina droop, what time

       Each living thing, e'en to the little worm,

       All fell, so full of malice was the air

       (And afterward, as bards of yore have told,

       The ancient people were restor'd anew

       From seed of emmets)


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