That, by effect of his malicious thoughts, Trusting in him I was made prisoner, But ne'ertheless what thou canst not have heard, Hear shalt thou, and shalt know if he has wronged me. A narrow perforation in the mew, Which bears because of me the title of Famine, Hunting the wolf and whelps upon the mountain With sleuth-hounds gaunt, and eager, and well trained, He had sent out before him to the front. After brief course seemed unto me forespent The father and the sons, and with sharp tushes When I before the morrow was awake, Moaning amid their sleep I heard my sons Who with me were, and asking after bread. Cruel indeed art thou, if yet thou grieve not, Thinking of what my heart foreboded me, And weep'st thou not, what art thou wont to weep at? They were awake now, and the hour drew nigh At which our food used to be brought to us, And through his dream was each one apprehensive ; 45 And I heard locking up the under door Of the horrible tower; whereat without a word I gazed into the faces of my sons. I wept not, I within so turned to stone; They wept; and darling little Anselm mine Said: "Thou dost gaze so, father, what doth ail thee?' Still not a tear I shed, nor answer made All of that day, nor yet the night thereafter, As now a little glimmer made its way Into the dolorous prison, and I saw Both of my hands in agony I bit; And, thinking that I did it from desire And said they: 'Father, much less pain 'twill give us That day we all were silent, and the next. Threw himself down outstretched before my feet, And there he died; and, as thou seest me, I saw the three fall, one by one, between And three days called them after they were dead; The wretched skull resumed he with his teeth, Of the fair land there where the Si doth sound, Let the Capraia and Gorgona move, And make a hedge across the mouth of Arno, For if Count Ugolino had the fame Of having in thy castles thee betrayed, Thou shouldst not on such cross have put his sons. Their youth made Uguccione and Brigata, Not downward turned, but all of them reversed. And grief that finds a barrier in the eyes Turns itself inward to increase the anguish ; Because the earliest tears a cluster form, And, in the manner of a crystal visor, Fill all the cup beneath the eyebrow full. And notwithstanding that, as in a callus, Because of cold all sensibility Its station had abandoned in my face, Whence I: "My Master, who sets this in motion? Whence he to me: "Full soon shalt thou be where 66 Cried out to us: "O souls so merciless That the last post is given unto you, Lift from mine eyes the rigid veils, that I May vent the sorrow which impregns my heart Whence I to him: "If thou wouldst have me help thee, He am I of the fruit of the bad garden, That oftentimes the soul descendeth here As I have done, his body by a demon Is taken from him, who thereafter rules it, ΣΤΟ 115 120 125 130 Itself down rushes into such a cistern; And still perchance above appears the body 135 This thou shouldst know, if thou hast just come down ; Have passed away since he was thus locked up." "I think," said I to him, "thou dost deceive me ; For Branca d' Oria is not dead as yet, 140 And eats, and drinks, and sleeps, and puts on clothes." Who made together with him the betrayal. But hitherward stretch out thy hand forthwith, 150 Ah, Genoese! ye men at variance With every virtue, full of every vice ! Wherefore are ye not scattered from the world? For with the vilest spirit of Romagna I found of you one such, who for his deeds And still above in body seems alive! 155 CANTO XXXIV. "VEXILLA Regis prodeunt Inferni Towards us; therefore look in front of thee," And, for the wind, I drew myself behind There where the shades were wholly covered up, This with the head, and that one with the soles; When in advance so far we had proceeded, That it my Master pleased to show to me The creature who once had the beauteous semblance, He from before me moved and made me stop, Saying: "Behold Dis, and behold the place How frozen I became and powerless then, Ask it not, Reader, for I write it not, I did not die, and I alive remained not; Think for thyself now, hast thou aught of wit, The Emperor of the kingdom dolorous From his mid-breast forth issued from the ice; Than do the giants with those arms of his; Were he as fair once, as he now is foul, And lifted up his brow against his Maker, When I beheld three faces on his head! Two were the others, that were joined with this And the right-hand one seemed 'twixt white and yellow; Who come from where the Nile falls valley-ward. No feathers had they, but as of a bat Their fashion was; and he was waving them, With six eyes did he weep, and down three chins A sinner, in the manner of a brake, So that he three of them tormented thus. To him in front the biting was as naught Unto the clawing, for sometimes the spine "That soul up there which has the greatest pain," The one who hangs from the black jowl is Brutus ; But night is reascending, and 'tis time As seemed him good, I clasped him round the neck, He laid fast hold upon the shaggy sides; From fell to fell descended downward then When we were come to where the thigh revolves The Guide, with labour and with hard-drawn breath, 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 X 70 75 |