CANTO XXIIIt hath been heretofore my chance to seeHorsemen with martial order shifting camp,To onset sallying, or in muster rang’d,Or in retreat sometimes outstretch’d for flight;Light-armed squadrons and fleet foragersScouring thy plains, Arezzo! have I seen,And clashing tournaments, and tilting jousts,Now with the sound of trumpets, now of bells,Tabors, or signals made from castled heights,And with inventions multiform, our own,Or introduc’d from foreign land; but ne’erTo such a strange recorder I beheld,In evolution moving, horse nor foot,Nor ship, that tack’d by sign from land or star.With the ten demons on our way we went;Ah fearful company! but in the churchWith saints, with gluttons at the tavern’s mess.Still earnest on the pitch I gaz’d, to markAll things whate’er the chasm contain’d, and thoseWho burn’d within. As dolphins, that, in signTo mariners, heave high their arched backs,That thence forewarn’d they may advise to saveTheir threaten’d vessels; so, at intervals,To ease the pain his back some sinner show’d,Then hid more nimbly than the lightning glance.E’en as the frogs, that of a wat’ry moatStand at the brink, with the jaws only out,Their feet and of the trunk all else concealed,Thus on each part the sinners stood, but soonAs Barbariccia was at hand, so theyDrew back under the wave. I saw, and yetMy heart doth stagger, one, that waited thus,As it befalls that oft one frog remains,While the next springs away: and Graffiacan,Who of the fiends was nearest, grappling seiz’dHis clotted locks, and dragg’d him sprawling up,That he appear’d to me an otter. EachAlready by their names I knew, so wellWhen they were chosen, I observ’d, and mark’dHow one the other call’d. “O Rubicant!See that his hide thou with thy talons flay,”Shouted together all the cursed crew.Then I: “Inform thee, master! if thou may,What wretched soul is this, on whom their handHis foes have laid.” My leader to his sideApproach’d, and whence he came inquir’d, to whomWas answer’d thus: “Born in Navarre’s domainMy mother plac’d me in a lord’s retinue,For she had borne me to a losel vile,A spendthrift of his substance and himself.The good king Thibault after that I serv’d,To peculating here my thoughts were turn’d,Whereof I give account in this dire heat.”Straight Ciriatto, from whose mouth a tuskIssued on either side, as from a boar,Ript him with one of these. ’Twixt evil clawsThe mouse had fall’n: but Barbariccia cried,Seizing him with both arms: “Stand thou apart,While I do fix him on my prong transpierc’d.”Then added, turning to my guide his face,“Inquire of him, if more thou wish to learn,Ere he again be rent.” My leader thus:“Then tell us of the partners in thy guilt;Knowest thou any sprung of Latian landUnder the tar?”—“I parted,” he replied,“But now from one, who sojourn’d not far thence;So were I under shelter now with him!Nor hook nor talon then should scare me more.”—.“Too long we suffer,” Libicocco cried,Then, darting forth a prong, seiz’d on his arm,And mangled bore away the sinewy part.Him Draghinazzo by his thighs beneathWould next have caught, whence angrily their chief,Turning on all sides round, with threat’ning browRestrain’d them. When their strife a little ceas’d,Of him, who yet was gazing on his wound,My teacher thus without delay inquir’d:“Who was the spirit, from whom by evil hapParting, as thou has told, thou cam’st to shore?”—“It was the friar Gomita,” he rejoin’d,“He of Gallura, vessel of all guile,Who had his master’s enemies in hand,And us’d them so that they commend him well.Money he took, and them at large dismiss’d.So he reports: and in each other chargeCommitted to his keeping, play’d the partOf barterer to the height: with him doth herdThe chief of Logodoro, Michel Zanche.Sardinia is a theme, whereof their tongueIs never weary. Out! alas! beholdThat other, how he grins! More would I say,But tremble lest he mean to maul me sore.”Their captain then to Farfarello turning,Who roll’d his moony eyes in act to strike,Rebuk’d him thus: “Off! cursed bird! Avaunt!”—“If ye desire to see or hear,” he thusQuaking with dread resum’d, “or Tuscan spiritsOr Lombard, I will cause them to appear.Meantime let these ill talons bate their fury,So that no vengeance they may fear from them,And I, remaining in this self-same place,Will for myself but one, make sev’n appear,When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for soOur custom is to call each other up.”Cagnazzo at that word deriding grinn’d,Then wagg’d the head and spake: “Hear his device,Mischievous as he is, to plunge him down.”Whereto he thus, who fail’d not in rich storeOf nice-wove toils; “Mischief forsooth extreme,Meant only to procure myself more woe!”No longer Alichino then refrain’d,But thus, the rest gainsaying, him bespake:“If thou do cast thee down, I not on footWill chase thee, but above the pitch will beatMy plumes. Quit we the vantage ground, and letThe bank be as a shield, that we may seeIf singly thou prevail against us all.”Now, reader, of new sport expect to hear!They each one turn’d his eyes to the other shore,He first, who was the hardest to persuade.The spirit of Navarre chose well his time,Planted his feet on land, and at one leapEscaping disappointed their resolve.Them quick resentment stung, but him the most,Who was the cause of failure; in pursuitHe therefore sped, exclaiming: “Thou art caught.”But little it avail’d: terror outstripp’dHis following flight: the other plung’d beneath,And he with upward pinion rais’d his breast:E’en thus the water-fowl, when she perceivesThe falcon near, dives instant down, while heEnrag’d and spent retires. That mockeryIn Calcabrina fury stirr’d, who flewAfter him, with desire of strife inflam’d;And, for the barterer had ’scap’d, so turn’dHis talons on his comrade. O’er the dykeIn grapple close they join’d; but the other prov’dA goshawk able to rend well his foe;And in the boiling lake both fell. The heatWas umpire soon between them, but in vainTo lift themselves they strove, so fast were gluedTheir pennons. Barbariccia, as the rest,That chance lamenting, four in flight dispatch’dFrom the other coast, with all their weapons arm’d.They, to their post on each side speedilyDescending, stretch’d their hooks toward the fiends,Who flounder’d, inly burning from their scars:And we departing left them to that broil.
CANTO XXIIIt hath been heretofore my chance to seeHorsemen with martial order shifting camp,To onset sallying, or in muster rang’d,Or in retreat sometimes outstretch’d for flight;Light-armed squadrons and fleet foragersScouring thy plains, Arezzo! have I seen,And clashing tournaments, and tilting jousts,Now with the sound of trumpets, now of bells,Tabors, or signals made from castled heights,And with inventions multiform, our own,Or introduc’d from foreign land; but ne’erTo such a strange recorder I beheld,In evolution moving, horse nor foot,Nor ship, that tack’d by sign from land or star.With the ten demons on our way we went;Ah fearful company! but in the churchWith saints, with gluttons at the tavern’s mess.Still earnest on the pitch I gaz’d, to markAll things whate’er the chasm contain’d, and thoseWho burn’d within. As dolphins, that, in signTo mariners, heave high their arched backs,That thence forewarn’d they may advise to saveTheir threaten’d vessels; so, at intervals,To ease the pain his back some sinner show’d,Then hid more nimbly than the lightning glance.E’en as the frogs, that of a wat’ry moatStand at the brink, with the jaws only out,Their feet and of the trunk all else concealed,Thus on each part the sinners stood, but soonAs Barbariccia was at hand, so theyDrew back under the wave. I saw, and yetMy heart doth stagger, one, that waited thus,As it befalls that oft one frog remains,While the next springs away: and Graffiacan,Who of the fiends was nearest, grappling seiz’dHis clotted locks, and dragg’d him sprawling up,That he appear’d to me an otter. EachAlready by their names I knew, so wellWhen they were chosen, I observ’d, and mark’dHow one the other call’d. “O Rubicant!See that his hide thou with thy talons flay,”Shouted together all the cursed crew.Then I: “Inform thee, master! if thou may,What wretched soul is this, on whom their handHis foes have laid.” My leader to his sideApproach’d, and whence he came inquir’d, to whomWas answer’d thus: “Born in Navarre’s domainMy mother plac’d me in a lord’s retinue,For she had borne me to a losel vile,A spendthrift of his substance and himself.The good king Thibault after that I serv’d,To peculating here my thoughts were turn’d,Whereof I give account in this dire heat.”Straight Ciriatto, from whose mouth a tuskIssued on either side, as from a boar,Ript him with one of these. ’Twixt evil clawsThe mouse had fall’n: but Barbariccia cried,Seizing him with both arms: “Stand thou apart,While I do fix him on my prong transpierc’d.”Then added, turning to my guide his face,“Inquire of him, if more thou wish to learn,Ere he again be rent.” My leader thus:“Then tell us of the partners in thy guilt;Knowest thou any sprung of Latian landUnder the tar?”—“I parted,” he replied,“But now from one, who sojourn’d not far thence;So were I under shelter now with him!Nor hook nor talon then should scare me more.”—.“Too long we suffer,” Libicocco cried,Then, darting forth a prong, seiz’d on his arm,And mangled bore away the sinewy part.Him Draghinazzo by his thighs beneathWould next have caught, whence angrily their chief,Turning on all sides round, with threat’ning browRestrain’d them. When their strife a little ceas’d,Of him, who yet was gazing on his wound,My teacher thus without delay inquir’d:“Who was the spirit, from whom by evil hapParting, as thou has told, thou cam’st to shore?”—“It was the friar Gomita,” he rejoin’d,“He of Gallura, vessel of all guile,Who had his master’s enemies in hand,And us’d them so that they commend him well.Money he took, and them at large dismiss’d.So he reports: and in each other chargeCommitted to his keeping, play’d the partOf barterer to the height: with him doth herdThe chief of Logodoro, Michel Zanche.Sardinia is a theme, whereof their tongueIs never weary. Out! alas! beholdThat other, how he grins! More would I say,But tremble lest he mean to maul me sore.”Their captain then to Farfarello turning,Who roll’d his moony eyes in act to strike,Rebuk’d him thus: “Off! cursed bird! Avaunt!”—“If ye desire to see or hear,” he thusQuaking with dread resum’d, “or Tuscan spiritsOr Lombard, I will cause them to appear.Meantime let these ill talons bate their fury,So that no vengeance they may fear from them,And I, remaining in this self-same place,Will for myself but one, make sev’n appear,When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for soOur custom is to call each other up.”Cagnazzo at that word deriding grinn’d,Then wagg’d the head and spake: “Hear his device,Mischievous as he is, to plunge him down.”Whereto he thus, who fail’d not in rich storeOf nice-wove toils; “Mischief forsooth extreme,Meant only to procure myself more woe!”No longer Alichino then refrain’d,But thus, the rest gainsaying, him bespake:“If thou do cast thee down, I not on footWill chase thee, but above the pitch will beatMy plumes. Quit we the vantage ground, and letThe bank be as a shield, that we may seeIf singly thou prevail against us all.”Now, reader, of new sport expect to hear!They each one turn’d his eyes to the other shore,He first, who was the hardest to persuade.The spirit of Navarre chose well his time,Planted his feet on land, and at one leapEscaping disappointed their resolve.Them quick resentment stung, but him the most,Who was the cause of failure; in pursuitHe therefore sped, exclaiming: “Thou art caught.”But little it avail’d: terror outstripp’dHis following flight: the other plung’d beneath,And he with upward pinion rais’d his breast:E’en thus the water-fowl, when she perceivesThe falcon near, dives instant down, while heEnrag’d and spent retires. That mockeryIn Calcabrina fury stirr’d, who flewAfter him, with desire of strife inflam’d;And, for the barterer had ’scap’d, so turn’dHis talons on his comrade. O’er the dykeIn grapple close they join’d; but the other prov’dA goshawk able to rend well his foe;And in the boiling lake both fell. The heatWas umpire soon between them, but in vainTo lift themselves they strove, so fast were gluedTheir pennons. Barbariccia, as the rest,That chance lamenting, four in flight dispatch’dFrom the other coast, with all their weapons arm’d.They, to their post on each side speedilyDescending, stretch’d their hooks toward the fiends,Who flounder’d, inly burning from their scars:And we departing left them to that broil.
It hath been heretofore my chance to seeHorsemen with martial order shifting camp,To onset sallying, or in muster rang’d,Or in retreat sometimes outstretch’d for flight;Light-armed squadrons and fleet foragersScouring thy plains, Arezzo! have I seen,And clashing tournaments, and tilting jousts,Now with the sound of trumpets, now of bells,Tabors, or signals made from castled heights,And with inventions multiform, our own,Or introduc’d from foreign land; but ne’erTo such a strange recorder I beheld,In evolution moving, horse nor foot,Nor ship, that tack’d by sign from land or star.With the ten demons on our way we went;Ah fearful company! but in the churchWith saints, with gluttons at the tavern’s mess.Still earnest on the pitch I gaz’d, to markAll things whate’er the chasm contain’d, and thoseWho burn’d within. As dolphins, that, in signTo mariners, heave high their arched backs,That thence forewarn’d they may advise to saveTheir threaten’d vessels; so, at intervals,To ease the pain his back some sinner show’d,Then hid more nimbly than the lightning glance.E’en as the frogs, that of a wat’ry moatStand at the brink, with the jaws only out,Their feet and of the trunk all else concealed,Thus on each part the sinners stood, but soonAs Barbariccia was at hand, so theyDrew back under the wave. I saw, and yetMy heart doth stagger, one, that waited thus,As it befalls that oft one frog remains,While the next springs away: and Graffiacan,Who of the fiends was nearest, grappling seiz’dHis clotted locks, and dragg’d him sprawling up,That he appear’d to me an otter. EachAlready by their names I knew, so wellWhen they were chosen, I observ’d, and mark’dHow one the other call’d. “O Rubicant!See that his hide thou with thy talons flay,”Shouted together all the cursed crew.Then I: “Inform thee, master! if thou may,What wretched soul is this, on whom their handHis foes have laid.” My leader to his sideApproach’d, and whence he came inquir’d, to whomWas answer’d thus: “Born in Navarre’s domainMy mother plac’d me in a lord’s retinue,For she had borne me to a losel vile,A spendthrift of his substance and himself.The good king Thibault after that I serv’d,To peculating here my thoughts were turn’d,Whereof I give account in this dire heat.”Straight Ciriatto, from whose mouth a tuskIssued on either side, as from a boar,Ript him with one of these. ’Twixt evil clawsThe mouse had fall’n: but Barbariccia cried,Seizing him with both arms: “Stand thou apart,While I do fix him on my prong transpierc’d.”Then added, turning to my guide his face,“Inquire of him, if more thou wish to learn,Ere he again be rent.” My leader thus:“Then tell us of the partners in thy guilt;Knowest thou any sprung of Latian landUnder the tar?”—“I parted,” he replied,“But now from one, who sojourn’d not far thence;So were I under shelter now with him!Nor hook nor talon then should scare me more.”—.“Too long we suffer,” Libicocco cried,Then, darting forth a prong, seiz’d on his arm,And mangled bore away the sinewy part.Him Draghinazzo by his thighs beneathWould next have caught, whence angrily their chief,Turning on all sides round, with threat’ning browRestrain’d them. When their strife a little ceas’d,Of him, who yet was gazing on his wound,My teacher thus without delay inquir’d:“Who was the spirit, from whom by evil hapParting, as thou has told, thou cam’st to shore?”—“It was the friar Gomita,” he rejoin’d,“He of Gallura, vessel of all guile,Who had his master’s enemies in hand,And us’d them so that they commend him well.Money he took, and them at large dismiss’d.So he reports: and in each other chargeCommitted to his keeping, play’d the partOf barterer to the height: with him doth herdThe chief of Logodoro, Michel Zanche.Sardinia is a theme, whereof their tongueIs never weary. Out! alas! beholdThat other, how he grins! More would I say,But tremble lest he mean to maul me sore.”Their captain then to Farfarello turning,Who roll’d his moony eyes in act to strike,Rebuk’d him thus: “Off! cursed bird! Avaunt!”—“If ye desire to see or hear,” he thusQuaking with dread resum’d, “or Tuscan spiritsOr Lombard, I will cause them to appear.Meantime let these ill talons bate their fury,So that no vengeance they may fear from them,And I, remaining in this self-same place,Will for myself but one, make sev’n appear,When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for soOur custom is to call each other up.”Cagnazzo at that word deriding grinn’d,Then wagg’d the head and spake: “Hear his device,Mischievous as he is, to plunge him down.”Whereto he thus, who fail’d not in rich storeOf nice-wove toils; “Mischief forsooth extreme,Meant only to procure myself more woe!”No longer Alichino then refrain’d,But thus, the rest gainsaying, him bespake:“If thou do cast thee down, I not on footWill chase thee, but above the pitch will beatMy plumes. Quit we the vantage ground, and letThe bank be as a shield, that we may seeIf singly thou prevail against us all.”Now, reader, of new sport expect to hear!They each one turn’d his eyes to the other shore,He first, who was the hardest to persuade.The spirit of Navarre chose well his time,Planted his feet on land, and at one leapEscaping disappointed their resolve.Them quick resentment stung, but him the most,Who was the cause of failure; in pursuitHe therefore sped, exclaiming: “Thou art caught.”
But little it avail’d: terror outstripp’dHis following flight: the other plung’d beneath,And he with upward pinion rais’d his breast:E’en thus the water-fowl, when she perceivesThe falcon near, dives instant down, while heEnrag’d and spent retires. That mockeryIn Calcabrina fury stirr’d, who flewAfter him, with desire of strife inflam’d;And, for the barterer had ’scap’d, so turn’dHis talons on his comrade. O’er the dykeIn grapple close they join’d; but the other prov’dA goshawk able to rend well his foe;
And in the boiling lake both fell. The heatWas umpire soon between them, but in vainTo lift themselves they strove, so fast were gluedTheir pennons. Barbariccia, as the rest,That chance lamenting, four in flight dispatch’dFrom the other coast, with all their weapons arm’d.They, to their post on each side speedilyDescending, stretch’d their hooks toward the fiends,Who flounder’d, inly burning from their scars:And we departing left them to that broil.