to Dolcino:[196] bid him, if he wish not
Here soon to follow me, that with good store
Of food he arm him, lest imprisoning snows
Yield him a victim to Novara’s power;
No easy conquest else”: with foot upraised
For stepping, spake Mohammed, on the ground
Then fix’d it to depart. Another shade,
Pierced in the throat, his nostrils mutilate
E’en from beneath the eyebrows, and one ear
Lopt off, who, with the rest, through wonder stood
Gazing, before the rest advanced, and bared
His wind-pipe, that without was all o’ersmear’d
With crimson stain. “O thou!” said he, “whom sin
Condemns not, and whom erst (unless too near
Resemblance do deceive me) I aloft
Have seen on Latian ground, call thou to mind
Piero of Medicina,[197] if again
Returning, thou behold’st the pleasant land[198]
That from Vercelli slopes to Marcabo;
And there instruct the twain,[199] whom Fano boasts
Her worthiest sons, Guido and Angelo,
That if ’tis given us here to scan aright
The future, they out of life’s tenement
Shall be cast forth, and whelm’d under the waves
Near to Cattolica, through perfidy
Of a fell tyrant. ’Twixt the Cyprian isle
And Balearic, ne’er hath Neptune seen
An injury so foul, by pirates done,
Or Argive crew of old. That one-eyed traitor
(Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain
His eye had still lack’d sight of) them shall bring
To conference with him, then so shape his end
That they shall need not ’gainst Focara’s wind[200]
Offer up vow nor prayer.” I answering thus:
“Declare, as thou dost wish that I above
May carry tidings of thee, who is he,
In whom that sight doth wake such sad remembrance.”
Forthwith he laid his hand on the cheek-bone
Of one, his fellow-spirit, and his jaws
Expanding, cried: “Lo! this is he I wot of:
He speaks not for himself: the outcast this,
Who overwhelm’d the doubt in Cæsar’s mind,[201]
Affirming that delay to men prepared
Was ever harmful.” Oh! how terrified
Methought was Curio, from whose throat was cut
The tongue, 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[202] too; I who, alas! exclaim’d,
‘The deed once done, there is an end,’ that proved
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
Thing, such as I may fear without more proof
To tell of, but that conscience makes me firm,
The boon companion, who her strong breastplate
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 paced onward. By the hair
It bore the sever’d member, lantern-wise
Pendent in hand, which look’d at us, and said,
“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,[203] 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
