Disdain not to instruct us who thou art.”
“By Arno’s pleasant stream,” I thus replied,
“In the great city I was bred and grew,
And wear the body I have ever worn.
But who are ye, from whom such mighty grief,
As now I witness, courseth down your cheeks?
What torment breaks forth in this bitter woe?”
“Our bonnets gleaming bright with orange hue,”
One of them answer’d, “are so leaden gross,
That with their weight they make the balances
To crack beneath them. Joyous friars[156] we were,
Bologna’s natives; Catalano I,
He Loderingo named; and by thy land
Together taken, as men used to take
A single and indifferent arbiter,
To reconcile their strifes. How there we sped,
Gardingo’s vicinage[157] can best declare.”
“O friars!” I began, “your miseries—”
But there brake off, for one had caught mine eye,
Fix’d to a cross with three stakes on the ground:
He, when he saw me, writhed himself, throughout
Distorted, ruffling with deep sighs his beard.
And Catalano, who thereof was ’ware,
Thus spake: “That pierced spirit,[158] whom intent
Thou view’st, was he who gave the Pharisees
Counsel, that it were fitting for one man
To suffer for the people. He doth lie
Transverse; nor any passes, but him first
Behoves make feeling trial how each weighs.
In straits like this along the foss are placed
The father of his consort,[159] and the rest
Partakers in that council, seed of ill
And sorrow to the Jews.” I noted then,
How Virgil gazed with wonder upon him,
Thus abjectly extended on the cross
In banishment eternal. To the friar
He next his words address’d: “We pray ye tell,
If so be lawful, whether on our right
Lies any opening in the rock, whereby
We both may issue hence, without constraint
On the dark angels, that compell’d they come
To lead us from this depth.” He thus replied:
“Nearer than thou dost hope, there is a rock
From the great circle moving, which o’ersteps
Each vale of horror, save that here his cope
Is shatter’d. By the ruin ye may mount:
For on the side it slants, and most the height
Rises below.” With head bent down awhile
My leader stood; then spake: “He warn’d us ill,
Who yonder hangs the sinners on his hook.”
To whom the friar: “At Bologna erst
I many vices of the Devil heard;
Among the rest was said, ‘He is a liar,
And the father of lies!’” When he had spoke,
My leader with large strides proceeded on,
Somewhat disturb’d with anger in his look.
I therefore left the spirits heavy laden,
And, following, his beloved footsteps mark’d.
Canto XXIV
Argument.—Under the escort of his faithful master, Dante not without difficulty makes his way out of the sixth gulf; and in the seventh, sees the robbers tormented by venomous and pestilent serpents. The soul of Vanni Fucci, who had pillaged the sacristy of St. James in Pistoia, predicts some calamities that impended over that city, and over the Florentines.
In the year’s early nonage,[160] when the sun
Tempers his tresses in Aquarius’ urn,
And now toward equal day the nights recede;
Whenas the rime upon the earth puts on
Her dazzling sister’s image, but not long
Her milder sway endures; then riseth up
The village hind, whom fails his wintry store,
And looking out beholds the plain around
All whiten’d; whence impatiently he smites
His thighs, and to his hut returning in,
There paces to and fro, wailing his lot,
As a discomfited and helpless man;
Then comes he forth again, and feels new hope
Spring in his bosom, finding e’en thus soon
The world hath changed its countenance, grasps his crook,
And forth to pasture drives his little flock:
So me my guide dishearten’d, when I saw
His troubled forehead; and so speedily
That ill was cured; for at the fallen bridge
Arriving, toward me with a look as sweet,
He turn’d him back, as that I first beheld
At the steep mountain’s foot. Regarding well
The ruin, and some counsel first
