The Divine Comedy (Illustrated Edition). Dante Alighieri

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gath’ring to that place

      Assembled; for its strength was great, enclos’d

      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,

      Was wrong’d 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

      Graecia 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 nam’d

      Eurypilus: so sings my tragic strain,

      In which majestic measure well thou know’st,

      Who know’st it all. That other, round the loins

      Practis’d in ev’ry slight of magic wile.

      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:

      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 mov’d.

      Footnotes

      Canto XXI

       Table of Contents

      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.

      Marvelous darkness shadow’d o’er the place.

      In the Venetians’ arsenal as boils

      Through wintry months tenacious pitch, to smear

      Their

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