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,
Ere Casalodi’s madness[142] by deceit
Was wronged 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
Græcia 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 named
Eurypilus: so sings my tragic strain,
In which majestic measure well thou know’st,
Who know’st it all. That other, round the loins
So slender of his shape, was Michael Scot,[143]
Practised in every slight of magic wile.
“Guido Bonatti[144] see: Asdente mark,[145]
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:
For now doth Cain with fork of thorns[146] confine
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 moved.
Canto XXI
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.
Marvellous darkness shadow’d o’er the place.
In the Venetians’ arsenal as boils
Through wintry months tenacious pitch, to smear
Their unsound vessels; for the inclement time
Seafaring men restrains, and in that while
His bark one builds anew, another stops
The ribs of his that hath made many a voyage,
One hammers at the prow, one at the poop,
This shapeth oars, that other cables twirls,
The mizzen one repairs, and main-sail rent;
So, not by force of fire but art divine,
Boil’d here a glutinous thick mass, that round
Limed all the shore beneath. I that beheld,
But therein naught distinguish’d, save the bubbles
Raised by the boiling, and one mighty swell
Heave, and by turns subsiding fall. While there
I fix’d my ken below, “Mark! mark!” my guide
Exclaiming, drew me toward him from the place
Wherein I stood. I turn’d myself, as one
Impatient to behold that which beheld
He needs must shun, whom sudden fear unmans,
That he his flight delays not for the view.
Behind me I discern’d a devil black,
That running up advanced along the rock.
Ah! what fierce cruelty his look bespake.
In act how bitter did he seem, with wings
Buoyant outstretch’d and feet of nimblest tread.
His shoulder, proudly eminent and sharp,
Was with a sinner charged; by either haunch
He held him, the foot’s sinew griping fast.
“Ye of our bridge!” he cried. “keen-talon’d fiends!
Lo! one of Santa Zita’s elders. Him
Whelm ye beneath, while I return for more.
That land hath store of such. All men are there,
Except Bonturo, barterers: of ‘no’
For lucre there an ‘ay’ is quickly made.”
Him
