Who by the servants’ servant was transferr’d
From Arno’s seat to Bacchiglione, where
His ill-strain’d nerves he left. I more would add,
But must from farther speech and onward way
Alike desist, for yonder I behold
A mist new-risen on the sandy plain.
A company, with whom I may not sort,
Approaches. I commend my TREASURE to thee,
Wherein I yet survive; my sole request.”
This said he turn’d, and seem’d as one of those,
Who o’er Verona’s champain try their speed
For the green mantle, and of them he seem’d,
Not he who loses but who gains the prize.
Footnotes
1 A part of the Alps where the Brenta rises, swollen by melting snows.
2 “Ser Brunetto, a Florentine, the secretary or chancellor of the city, and Dante’s preceptor, hath left us a work so little read, that both the subject of it and the language of it have been mistaken. It is in the French spoken in the reign of St. Louis, under the title of ‘Tresor’; and contains a species of philosophical lectures.”
3 “With another text.” He refers to the predictions of Farinata, in Canto x.
4 “Francesco.” Accorso, a Florentine, interpreted the Roman law at Bologna, and died in 1229, at the age of 78. His authority was so great as to exceed that of all the other interpreters, so that Cino da Pistoia termed him the Idol of Advocates. His sepulchre, and that of his son Francesco here spoken of, is at Bologna, with this short epitaph: “Sepulcrum Accursii Glossatoris et Francisci eus Filii.”
Canto XVI
ARGUMENT.—Journeying along the pier, which crosses the sand, they are now so near the end of it as to hear the noise of the stream falling into the eighth circle, when they meet the spirits of three military men; who judging Dante, from his dress, to be a countryman of theirs, entreat him to stop. He complies and speaks with them. The two Poets then reach the place where the water descends, being the termination of this third compartment in the seventh circle; and here Virgil, having thrown down into the hollow a cord, wherewith Dante was girt, they behold at that signal a monstrous and horrible figure come swimming up to them.
NOW came I where the water’s din was heard,
As down it fell into the other round,
Resounding like the hum of swarming bees:
When forth together issu’d from a troop,
That pass’d beneath the fierce tormenting storm,
Three spirits, running swift. They towards us came,
And each one cried aloud, “Oh do thou stay!
Whom by the fashion of thy garb we deem
To be some inmate of our evil land.”
Ah me! what wounds I mark’d upon their limbs,
Recent and old, inflicted by the flames!
E’en the remembrance of them grieves me yet.
Attentive to their cry my teacher paus’d,
And turn’d to me his visage, and then spake;
“Wait now! our courtesy these merit well:
And were ’t not for the nature of the place,
Whence glide the fiery darts, I should have said,
That haste had better suited thee than them.’’
They, when we stopp’d, resum’d their ancient wail,
And soon as they had reach’d us, all the three
Whirl’d round together in one restless wheel.
As naked champions, smear’d with slippery oil,
Are wont intent to watch their place of hold
And vantage, ere in closer strife they meet;
Thus each one, as he wheel’d, his countenance
At me directed, so that opposite
The neck mov’d ever to the twinkling feet.
“If misery of this drear wilderness,”
Thus one began, “added to our sad cheer
And destitute, do call forth scorn on us
And our entreaties, let our great renown
Incline thee to inform us who thou art,
That dost imprint with living feet unharm’d
The soil of Hell. He, in whose track thou see’st
My steps pursuing, naked though he be
And reft of all, was of more high estate
Than thou believest; grandchild of the chaste
Gualdrada,1 him they Guidoguerra call’d,
Who in his lifetime many a noble act
Achiev’d, both by his wisdom and his sword.
The other, next to me that beats the sand,
Is Aldobrandi,2 name deserving well,
In the’ upper world, of honour; and myself
Who in this torment do partake with them,
Am Rusticucci,3 whom, past doubt, my wife
Of savage temper, more than aught beside
Hath to this evil brought.” If from the fire
I had been shelter’d, down amidst them straight
I then had cast me, nor my guide, I deem,
Would have restrain’d my going; but that fear
Of the dire burning vanquish’d the desire,
Which made me eager of their wish’d embrace.
I then began: “Not scorn, but grief much more,
Such as long time alone can cure, your doom
Fix’d deep within me, soon as this my lord
Spake words, whose tenour taught me to expect
That such a race, as ye are, was at hand.
I am a countryman of yours, who still
Affectionate have utter’d, and have heard
Your deeds and names renown’d. Leaving the gall
For