"If I did think my answer were to one, Who ever could return unto the world, This flame should rest unshaken. But since ne'er, 60 If true be told me, any from this depth Has found his upward way, I answer thee, Nor fear lest infamy record the words. "A man of arms at first, I cloth'd me then In good Saint Francis' girdle, hoping so 65 T' have made amends. And certainly my hope Had fail'd not, but that he, whom curses light on, 70 The' high priest again seduc'd me into sin. 75 80 Had fought, nor traffic'd in the Soldan's land), 85 He his great charge nor sacred ministry In himself, rev'renc'd, nor in me that cord, Which us'd to mark with leanness whom it girded. As in Socrate, Constantine besought To cure his leprosy Sylvester's aid, 90 So me to cure the fever of his pride This man besought: my counsel to that end He ask'd and I was silent: for his words Seem'd drunken: but forthwith he thus resum'd: 'From thy heart banish fear: of all offence 95 I hitherto absolve thee. In return, Teach me my purpose so to execute, 'That Penestrino cumber earth no more. "Then, yielding to the forceful arguments, Of silence as more perilous I deem'd, And answer'd: Father! since thou washest me 'Clear of that guilt wherein I now must fall, 100 105 Large promise with performance scant, be sure, "When I was number'd with the dead, then came Saint Francis for me; but a cherub dark He met, who cried: Wrong me not; he is mine, 'And must below to join the wretched crew, 110 'For the deceitful counsel which he gave. 'E'er since I watch'd him, hov'ring at his hair, 'No power can the impenitent absolve; 'Nor to repent and will at once consist, 'By contradiction absolute forbid.' 115 Oh mis'ry! how I shook myself, when he Seiz'd me, and cried, 'Thou haply thought'st me not 'A disputant in logic so exact.' To Minos down he bore me, and the judge Twin'd eight times round his callous back the tail, 120 Which biting with excess of rage, he spake : 'Must vanish.' Hence perdition-doom'd I rove A prey to rankling sorrow in this garb." When he had thus fulfill'd his words, the flame 125 In dolour parted, beating to and fro, And writhing its sharp horn. We onward went, The foss, wherein the penalty is paid 130 Of those, who load them with committed sin. CANTO XXVIII. WHO, e'en in words unfetter'd, might at full Though he repeated oft the tale? No tongue 10 Branded th' Apulian name, or where beyond 15 Thy walls, O Tagliacozzo, without arms The old Alardo conquer'd; and his limbs One were to show transpierc'd, another his Were but a thing of nought, to the' hideous sight 20 Of the ninth chasm. A rundlet, that hath lost 25 He ey'd me, with his hands laid his breast bare, And cried; "Now mark how I do rip me! lo! 30 How is Mohammed mangled! before me Walks Ali weeping, from the chin his face Whom here thou seest, while they liv'd, did sow 35 Each of this ream, when we have compast round The dismal way, for first our gashes close Ere we repass before him. But say who 40 Art thou, that standest musing on the rock, Sentenc'd upon thy crimes?". "Him death not yet," My guide rejoin'd, "hath overta'en, nor sin More than a hundred spirits, when that they heard, 45 50 55 Then fix'd it to depart. Another shade, Pierc'd in the throat, his nostrils mutilate 60 E'en from beneath the eyebrows, and one ear Lopt off, who with the rest through wonder stood Gazing, before the rest advanc'd, and bar'd His wind-pipe, that without was all o'ersmear'd With crimson stain. "O thou!" said he, "whom sin 65 Have seen on Latian ground, call thou to mind Returning, thou behold'st the pleasant land 70 That from Vercelli slopes to Mercabo; And there instruct the twain, whom Fano boasts Her worthiest sons, Guido and Angelo, That if 't is giv'n us here to scan aright The future, they out of life's tenement 75 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 80 Or Argive crew of old. That one-ey'd traitor (Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain His eye had still lack'd sight of) them shall bring 85 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 90 Of one, his fellow-spirit, and his jaws Expanding, cried: "Lo! this is he I wot of; Then one He speaks not for himself: the outcast this I added: 66 95 100 105 110 115 120 |