Could overcome within me the desire I had to be experienced of the world, And of the vice and virtue of mankind;
But I put forth on the high open sea With one sole ship, and that small company By which I never had deserted been.
Both of the shores I saw as far as Spain, Far as Morocco, and the isle of Sardes, And the others which that sea bathes round about.
I and my company were old and slow When at that narrow passage we arrived Where Hercules his landmarks set as signals,
That man no farther onward should adventure. On the right hand behind me left I Seville, And on the other already had left Ceuta.
‘O brothers, who amid a hundred thousand Perils,’ I said, ‘have come unto the West, To this so inconsiderable vigil
Which is remaining of your senses still Be ye unwilling to deny the knowledge, Following the sun, of the unpeopled world.
Consider ye the seed from which ye sprang; Ye were not made to live like unto brutes, But for pursuit of virtue and of knowledge.’
So eager did I render my companions, With this brief exhortation, for the voyage, That then I hardly could have held them back.
And having turned our stern unto the morning, We of the oars made wings for our mad flight, Evermore gaining on the larboard side.
Already all the stars of the other pole The night beheld, and ours so very low It did not rise above the ocean floor.
Five times rekindled and as many quenched Had been the splendour underneath the moon, Since we had entered into the deep pass,
When there appeared to us a mountain, dim From distance, and it seemed to me so high As I had never any one beheld.
Joyful were we, and soon it turned to weeping; For out of the new land a whirlwind rose, And smote upon the fore part of the ship.
Three times it made her whirl with all the waters, At the fourth time it made the stern uplift, And the prow downward go, as pleased Another,
Until the sea above us closed again.”
Inferno: Canto XXVII
Already was the flame erect and quiet, To speak no more, and now departed from us With the permission of the gentle Poet;
When yet another, which behind it came, Caused us to turn our eyes upon its top By a confused sound that issued from it.
As the Sicilian bull (that bellowed first With the lament of him, and that was right, Who with his file had modulated it)
Bellowed so with the voice of the afflicted, That, notwithstanding it was made of brass, Still it appeared with agony transfixed;
Thus, by not having any way or issue At first from out the fire, to its own language Converted were the melancholy words.
But afterwards, when they had gathered way Up through the point, giving it that vibration The tongue had given them in their passage out,
We heard it said: “O thou, at whom I aim My voice, and who but now wast speaking Lombard, Saying, ‘Now go thy way, no more I urge thee,’
Because I come perchance a little late, To stay and speak with me let it not irk thee; Thou seest it irks not me, and I am burning.
If thou but lately into this blind world Hast fallen down from that sweet Latian land, Wherefrom I bring the whole of my transgression,
Say, if the Romagnuols have peace or war, For I was from the mountains there between Urbino and the yoke whence Tiber bursts.”
I still was downward bent and listening, When my Conductor touched me on the side, Saying: “Speak thou: this one a Latian is.”
And I, who had beforehand my reply In readiness, forthwith began to speak: “O soul, that down below there art concealed,
Romagna thine is not and never has been Without war in the bosom of its tyrants; But open war I none have left there now.
Ravenna stands as it long years has stood; The Eagle of Polenta there is brooding, So that she covers Cervia with her vans.
The city which once made the long resistance, And of the French a sanguinary heap, Beneath the Green Paws finds itself again;
Verrucchio’s ancient Mastiff and the new, Who made such bad disposal of Montagna, Where they are wont make wimbles of their teeth.
The cities of Lamone and Santerno Governs the Lioncel of the white lair, Who changes sides ’twixt summer-time and winter;
And that of which the Savio bathes the flank, Even as it lies between the plain and mountain, Lives between tyranny and a free state.
Now I entreat thee tell us who thou art; Be not more stubborn than the rest have been, So may thy name hold front there in the world.”
After the fire a little more had roared In its own fashion, the sharp point it moved This way and that, and then gave forth such breath:
“If I believed that my reply were made To one who to the world would e’er return, This flame without more flickering would stand still;
But inasmuch as never from this depth Did any one return, if I hear true, Without the fear of infamy I answer,
I was a man of arms, then Cordelier, Believing thus begirt to make amends; And truly my belief had been fulfilled
But for the High Priest, whom may ill betide, Who put me back into my former sins; And how and wherefore I will have thee hear.
While I was still the form of bone and pulp My mother gave to me, the deeds I did Were not those of a lion, but a fox.
The machinations and the covert ways I knew them all, and practised so their craft, That to the ends of earth the sound went forth.
When now unto that portion of mine age I saw myself arrived, when each one ought To lower the sails, and coil away the ropes,
That which before had pleased me then displeased me; And penitent and confessing I surrendered, Ah woe is me! and it would have bestead me;
The Leader of the modern Pharisees Having a war near unto Lateran, And not with Saracens nor with the Jews,
For each one of his enemies was Christian, And none of them had been to conquer Acre, Nor merchandising in the Sultan’s land,
Nor the high office, nor the sacred orders, In him regarded, nor in me that cord Which used to make those girt with it more meagre;
But even as Constantine sought out Sylvester To cure his leprosy, within Soracte, So this one sought me out as an adept
To cure him of the fever of his pride. Counsel he asked of me, and I was silent, Because his words appeared inebriate.
And then he said: ‘Be not thy heart afraid; Henceforth I thee absolve; and thou instruct me How to raze Palestrina to the ground.
Heaven have I power to lock and to unlock, As thou dost know; therefore the keys are two, The which my predecessor held not dear.’
Then urged me on his weighty arguments There, where my silence was the worst advice; And said I: ‘Father, since thou washest me
Of that sin into which I now must fall, The promise long with the fulfilment short Will make thee triumph in thy lofty seat.’
Francis came afterward, when I was dead, For me; but one of the black Cherubim Said to him: ‘Take him not; do me no wrong;
He must come down among my servitors, Because he gave the fraudulent advice From which time forth I have been at his hair;
For who repents not cannot be absolved, Nor can one both repent and will at once, Because of the contradiction which consents not.’
O miserable me! how I did shudder When he seized on me, saying: ‘Peradventure Thou didst not think that I was a logician!’
He bore me unto Minos, who entwined Eight times his tail about his stubborn back, And after he had bitten it in great rage,
Said: ‘Of the thievish fire a culprit this;’ Wherefore, here where thou seest, am I lost, And vested thus in going I bemoan me.”
When it had thus completed its recital, The flame departed uttering lamentations, Writhing and flapping its sharp-pointed horn.
Onward we passed, both I and my Conductor, Up o’er the crag above another arch, Which the moat covers, where is paid the fee
By those who, sowing discord, win their burden.
Inferno: Canto XXVIII
Who ever could, e’en with untrammelled words, Tell of the blood and of the wounds in full Which now I saw, by many times narrating?
Each tongue would for a certainty fall short By reason of our speech and memory, That have small room to comprehend so much.
If were again assembled all the people Which formerly upon the fateful land Of Puglia were lamenting for their blood
Shed by the Romans and the lingering war That of the rings made such illustrious spoils, As Livy has recorded, who errs not,
With those who felt the agony of blows By making counterstand to Robert Guiscard, And all the rest, whose bones are gathered still
At Ceperano, where a renegade Was each Apulian, and at Tagliacozzo, Where without arms the old Alardo conquered,
And one his limb transpierced, and one lopped off, Should show, it would be nothing to compare With the disgusting mode of the ninth Bolgia.