As I was holding raised on them my brows, Behold! a serpent with six feet darts forth In front of one, and fastens wholly on him.
With middle feet it bound him round the paunch, And with the forward ones his arms it seized; Then thrust its teeth through one cheek and the other;
The hindermost it stretched upon his thighs, And put its tail through in between the two, And up behind along the reins outspread it.
Ivy was never fastened by its barbs Unto a tree so, as this horrible reptile Upon the other’s limbs entwined its own.
Then they stuck close, as if of heated wax They had been made, and intermixed their colour; Nor one nor other seemed now what he was;
E’en as proceedeth on before the flame Upward along the paper a brown colour, Which is not black as yet, and the white dies.
The other two looked on, and each of them Cried out: “O me, Agnello, how thou changest! Behold, thou now art neither two nor one.”
Already the two heads had one become, When there appeared to us two figures mingled Into one face, wherein the two were lost.
Of the four lists were fashioned the two arms, The thighs and legs, the belly and the chest Members became that never yet were seen.
Every original aspect there was cancelled; Two and yet none did the perverted image Appear, and such departed with slow pace.
Even as a lizard, under the great scourge Of days canicular, exchanging hedge, Lightning appeareth if the road it cross;
Thus did appear, coming towards the bellies Of the two others, a small fiery serpent, Livid and black as is a peppercorn.
And in that part whereat is first received Our aliment, it one of them transfixed; Then downward fell in front of him extended.
The one transfixed looked at it, but said naught; Nay, rather with feet motionless he yawned, Just as if sleep or fever had assailed him.
He at the serpent gazed, and it at him; One through the wound, the other through the mouth Smoked violently, and the smoke commingled.
Henceforth be silent Lucan, where he mentions Wretched Sabellus and Nassidius, And wait to hear what now shall be shot forth.
Be silent Ovid, of Cadmus and Arethusa; For if him to a snake, her to fountain, Converts he fabling, that I grudge him not;
Because two natures never front to front Has he transmuted, so that both the forms To interchange their matter ready were.
Together they responded in such wise, That to a fork the serpent cleft his tail, And eke the wounded drew his feet together.
The legs together with the thighs themselves Adhered so, that in little time the juncture No sign whatever made that was apparent.
He with the cloven tail assumed the figure The other one was losing, and his skin Became elastic, and the other’s hard.
I saw the arms draw inward at the armpits, And both feet of the reptile, that were short, Lengthen as much as those contracted were.
Thereafter the hind feet, together twisted, Became the member that a man conceals, And of his own the wretch had two created.
While both of them the exhalation veils With a new colour, and engenders hair On one of them and depilates the other,
The one uprose and down the other fell, Though turning not away their impious lamps, Underneath which each one his muzzle changed.
He who was standing drew it tow’rds the temples, And from excess of matter, which came thither, Issued the ears from out the hollow cheeks;
What did not backward run and was retained Of that excess made to the face a nose, And the lips thickened far as was befitting.
He who lay prostrate thrusts his muzzle forward, And backward draws the ears into his head, In the same manner as the snail its horns;
And so the tongue, which was entire and apt For speech before, is cleft, and the bi-forked In the other closes up, and the smoke ceases.
The soul, which to a reptile had been changed, Along the valley hissing takes to flight, And after him the other speaking sputters.
Then did he turn upon him his new shoulders, And said to the other: “I’ll have Buoso run, Crawling as I have done, along this road.”
In this way I beheld the seventh ballast Shift and reshift, and here be my excuse The novelty, if aught my pen transgress.
And notwithstanding that mine eyes might be Somewhat bewildered, and my mind dismayed, They could not flee away so secretly
But that I plainly saw Puccio Sciancato; And he it was who sole of three companions, Which came in the beginning, was not changed;
The other was he whom thou, Gaville, weepest.
Inferno: Canto XXVI
Rejoice, O Florence, since thou art so great, That over sea and land thou beatest thy wings, And throughout Hell thy name is spread abroad!
Among the thieves five citizens of thine Like these I found, whence shame comes unto me, And thou thereby to no great honour risest.
But if when morn is near our dreams are true, Feel shalt thou in a little time from now What Prato, if none other, craves for thee.
And if it now were, it were not too soon; Would that it were, seeing it needs must be, For ’twill aggrieve me more the more I age.
We went our way, and up along the stairs The bourns had made us to descend before, Remounted my Conductor and drew me.
And following the solitary path Among the rocks and ridges of the crag, The foot without the hand sped not at all.
Then sorrowed I, and sorrow now again, When I direct my mind to what I saw, And more my genius curb than I am wont,
That it may run not unless virtue guide it; So that if some good star, or better thing, Have given me good, I may myself not grudge it.
As many as the hind (who on the hill Rests at the time when he who lights the world His countenance keeps least concealed from us,
While as the fly gives place unto the gnat) Seeth the glow-worms down along the valley, Perchance there where he ploughs and makes his vintage;
With flames as manifold resplendent all Was the eighth Bolgia, as I grew aware As soon as I was where the depth appeared.
And such as he who with the bears avenged him Beheld Elijah’s chariot at departing, What time the steeds to heaven erect uprose,
For with his eye he could not follow it So as to see aught else than flame alone, Even as a little cloud ascending upward,
Thus each along the gorge of the intrenchment Was moving; for not one reveals the theft, And every flame a sinner steals away.
I stood upon the bridge uprisen to see, So that, if I had seized not on a rock, Down had I fallen without being pushed.
And the Leader, who beheld me so attent, Exclaimed: “Within the fires the spirits are; Each swathes himself with that wherewith he burns.”
“My Master,” I replied, “by hearing thee I am more sure; but I surmised already It might be so, and already wished to ask thee
Who is within that fire, which comes so cleft At top, it seems uprising from the pyre Where was Eteocles with his brother placed.”
He answered me: “Within there are tormented Ulysses and Diomed, and thus together They unto vengeance run as unto wrath.
And there within their flame do they lament The ambush of the horse, which made the door Whence issued forth the Romans’ gentle seed;
Therein is wept the craft, for which being dead Deidamia still deplores Achilles, And pain for the Palladium there is borne.”
“If they within those sparks possess the power To speak,” I said, “thee, Master, much I pray, And re-pray, that the prayer be worth a thousand,
That thou make no denial of awaiting Until the horned flame shall hither come; Thou seest that with desire I lean towards it.”
And he to me: “Worthy is thy entreaty Of much applause, and therefore I accept it; But take heed that thy tongue restrain itself.
Leave me to speak, because I have conceived That which thou wishest; for they might disdain Perchance, since they were Greeks, discourse of thine.”
When now the flame had come unto that point, Where to my Leader it seemed time and place, After this fashion did I hear him speak:
“O ye, who are twofold within one fire, If I deserved of you, while I was living, If I deserved of you or much or little
When in the world I wrote the lofty verses, Do not move on, but one of you declare Whither, being lost, he went away to die.”
Then of the antique flame the greater horn, Murmuring, began to wave itself about Even as a flame doth which the wind fatigues.
Thereafterward, the summit to and fro Moving as if it were the tongue that spake, It uttered forth a voice, and said: “When I
From Circe had departed, who concealed me More than a year there near unto Gaeta, Or ever yet Aeneas named it so,
Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence For my old father, nor the due affection Which joyous should have made Penelope,