CANTO XXVII.
Argument.
In the same valley Dante meets the Shade of Count Guido da Montefeltro, punished here for the evil counsel given to Boniface the Eighth.
S TILL and unbending now remain'd the flame,
And spake no more, and from us pass'd away,
With gentle Virgil's leave; and then there came
Another, following in the selfsame way,
And towards its summit made us turn our eyes,
By murmuring sounds that issued from its ray.
Like the Sicilian bull, whose voice did rise,
For the first time, in bellowings loud and fierce
(Even as, in sooth, 'twas meet), with the sad cries
Of him who made it with intent perverse;
And though of brass, yet by its wailings dire,
It seem'd as torture all its limbs did pierce:
Thus, from its first beginning did the fire,
Because no way nor outlet it had found,
In notes most sad and sorrowful transpire;
Until it reach'd its journey's furthest bound,
And issued from the point, which 'gan to shake,
As when the human tongue gives forth a sound.
" O thou to whom I raise my voice, " it spake,
" And who but now in Lombard accents said,
" Thou mayst depart; no more thy voice I wake,"
Though hither somewhat late my steps are led,
Let it not grieve thee to discourse with me;
For me it grieves not, who in fire am stay'd.
If thou but lately in this evil sea
Hast fallen from the sweet Latin land afar,
Whence all my sins and all my sorrows be,
Say if Romagna now hath peace or war;
For I was of the mountains which between
Urbino and the Tiber's birthplace are. "
Intently listening, forwards did I lean,
When Virgil touch'd me on the side, and said:
" Now speak; he is of Latin race, I ween "
And from my lips my ready answer sped:
(For I my words delay'd not to prepare;)
" O Spirit, who in this abyss art hid,
Know, thy Romagna is not, nor was e'er
Wholly at peace its tyrants' hearts within;
But open discord now doth not appear.
Ravenna is as it for years hath been;
There doth Polenta's eagle brood, and o'er
Cervia still its outspread wing is seen
The land that such resistance made of yore,
And of the French hath raised a bloody pile,
'Neath the green claws doth find itself once more,
Verrucchio's mastiffs, old and young, the while,
Who erst Montagna used so cruelly,
Within their wonted place do gnaw the spoil.
Lamoni's and Santerno's towns still be
Led by the lion of the snow-white den,
Who, from the winter, ere ye summer see,
Hath changed. The walls where Savio flows amain
Dwell between tyranny and freedom's state,
Even as betwixt the mountains and the plain.
Now, who thou art I pray thou wouldst narrate:
Be not more hard than others who have gone;
Thus still thy name shall in the world be great. "
After the fire awhile had made its moan,
The pointed summit bent from side to side,
And on this manner did its tale make known:
" In truth, did I believe I now replied
To one who might unto the earth return,
Still and unmoving should my flame abide;
Yet, because never from this darksome bourne
Did any turn again to see the sky,
I answer thee, unstay'd by fear of scorn.
First, man of arms, a friar then was I;
Thinking, thus girt, to make amends for all:
And, sooth, it thus had been, with certainty,
But the Great Priest (whom may some ill befal)
Me in my former guiltiness hath set;
And how and why I will to thee recall.
While I my earthly members wore as yet,
With me was aye the manner of each deed
Not lionlike, but for the fox more fit.
Much was I skill'd in crookid paths which lead
To secret ends; so well I knew this art,
E'en to earth's furthest bounds the fame did speed
But when my life attained unto that part
When man should drop the oar and leave the sail,
The thing which once was pleasant to my heart
Now seem'd to me good cause that I should wail;
Repentant, I confess'd my sore disease,
And woe is me! it then might well avail.
But now the Prince of the new Pharisees,
Striving, anear the Lateran, in fight,
(And not with Jew nor Saracen; for these
His foes believed the Christian faith aright,
And none had gone to conquer Acre's wall,
Nor to the Sultan sold themselves,) his height
Of holy place regarded not, nor all
His sacred vows, nor yet on me the cord
Which makes its wearers lean: but like the call
Of Constantine, when he the help implored
Of him who in Soracti's cave did hide,
The good Sylvester, that his holy word
Might cure the leprosy; thus, sick with pride,
He summon'd me to cure his feverish woe,
And counsel sought: yet silent did I bide,
Deeming his words most mad. Then spake he: " Go!
I here absolve thee; let thy heart be bold,
And teach me to lay Palestrina low.
For I can ope and shut the heavenly fold,
As well thou knowest: yet those double keys
My predecessor cared not long to hold."
And then, impelled by reasonings such as these,
(For silence did the worst to me appear,)
I said: " O Father, since it thee doth please
To cleanse me from the sin I here may bear,
Great promises with small fulfilment aye
Shall make thee triumph on the papal chair."
And when the hour was come that I should die,
St. Francis came for me: but " Touch him not;
Do me no wrong," a dusky fiend did cry.
" Among my crew must henceforth be his lot,
Because he gave the counsel fraudulent,
Since which I closely to his side have sought
He is absolved not who doth not repent;
Nor evil will can with repentance go:
The contradiction here doth not consent."
O mournful me! I shook with fear and woe,
When now he seized me, saying: " It may be,
My powers of logic then thou didst not know."
To Minos now he carried me; and he
Eight times his serpent-tail did round him turn,
And bit his flesh in brute ferocity,
And said: " Bear thou this wretch unto the bourne
Of robber-flames." Thus am I lost for aye,
And clothid in this guise I ever mourn. "
When he had ended thus, with doleful sigh,
Swiftly the flame from out our sight was gone,
Bending its hornid point as it passed by.
I and my Master now our way went on,
Up by the rocks, till on that arch we came
Which covers the abyss wherein they moan,
Who discord sow'd on earth, and here do bear the blame.
Argument.
In the same valley Dante meets the Shade of Count Guido da Montefeltro, punished here for the evil counsel given to Boniface the Eighth.
S TILL and unbending now remain'd the flame,
And spake no more, and from us pass'd away,
With gentle Virgil's leave; and then there came
Another, following in the selfsame way,
And towards its summit made us turn our eyes,
By murmuring sounds that issued from its ray.
Like the Sicilian bull, whose voice did rise,
For the first time, in bellowings loud and fierce
(Even as, in sooth, 'twas meet), with the sad cries
Of him who made it with intent perverse;
And though of brass, yet by its wailings dire,
It seem'd as torture all its limbs did pierce:
Thus, from its first beginning did the fire,
Because no way nor outlet it had found,
In notes most sad and sorrowful transpire;
Until it reach'd its journey's furthest bound,
And issued from the point, which 'gan to shake,
As when the human tongue gives forth a sound.
" O thou to whom I raise my voice, " it spake,
" And who but now in Lombard accents said,
" Thou mayst depart; no more thy voice I wake,"
Though hither somewhat late my steps are led,
Let it not grieve thee to discourse with me;
For me it grieves not, who in fire am stay'd.
If thou but lately in this evil sea
Hast fallen from the sweet Latin land afar,
Whence all my sins and all my sorrows be,
Say if Romagna now hath peace or war;
For I was of the mountains which between
Urbino and the Tiber's birthplace are. "
Intently listening, forwards did I lean,
When Virgil touch'd me on the side, and said:
" Now speak; he is of Latin race, I ween "
And from my lips my ready answer sped:
(For I my words delay'd not to prepare;)
" O Spirit, who in this abyss art hid,
Know, thy Romagna is not, nor was e'er
Wholly at peace its tyrants' hearts within;
But open discord now doth not appear.
Ravenna is as it for years hath been;
There doth Polenta's eagle brood, and o'er
Cervia still its outspread wing is seen
The land that such resistance made of yore,
And of the French hath raised a bloody pile,
'Neath the green claws doth find itself once more,
Verrucchio's mastiffs, old and young, the while,
Who erst Montagna used so cruelly,
Within their wonted place do gnaw the spoil.
Lamoni's and Santerno's towns still be
Led by the lion of the snow-white den,
Who, from the winter, ere ye summer see,
Hath changed. The walls where Savio flows amain
Dwell between tyranny and freedom's state,
Even as betwixt the mountains and the plain.
Now, who thou art I pray thou wouldst narrate:
Be not more hard than others who have gone;
Thus still thy name shall in the world be great. "
After the fire awhile had made its moan,
The pointed summit bent from side to side,
And on this manner did its tale make known:
" In truth, did I believe I now replied
To one who might unto the earth return,
Still and unmoving should my flame abide;
Yet, because never from this darksome bourne
Did any turn again to see the sky,
I answer thee, unstay'd by fear of scorn.
First, man of arms, a friar then was I;
Thinking, thus girt, to make amends for all:
And, sooth, it thus had been, with certainty,
But the Great Priest (whom may some ill befal)
Me in my former guiltiness hath set;
And how and why I will to thee recall.
While I my earthly members wore as yet,
With me was aye the manner of each deed
Not lionlike, but for the fox more fit.
Much was I skill'd in crookid paths which lead
To secret ends; so well I knew this art,
E'en to earth's furthest bounds the fame did speed
But when my life attained unto that part
When man should drop the oar and leave the sail,
The thing which once was pleasant to my heart
Now seem'd to me good cause that I should wail;
Repentant, I confess'd my sore disease,
And woe is me! it then might well avail.
But now the Prince of the new Pharisees,
Striving, anear the Lateran, in fight,
(And not with Jew nor Saracen; for these
His foes believed the Christian faith aright,
And none had gone to conquer Acre's wall,
Nor to the Sultan sold themselves,) his height
Of holy place regarded not, nor all
His sacred vows, nor yet on me the cord
Which makes its wearers lean: but like the call
Of Constantine, when he the help implored
Of him who in Soracti's cave did hide,
The good Sylvester, that his holy word
Might cure the leprosy; thus, sick with pride,
He summon'd me to cure his feverish woe,
And counsel sought: yet silent did I bide,
Deeming his words most mad. Then spake he: " Go!
I here absolve thee; let thy heart be bold,
And teach me to lay Palestrina low.
For I can ope and shut the heavenly fold,
As well thou knowest: yet those double keys
My predecessor cared not long to hold."
And then, impelled by reasonings such as these,
(For silence did the worst to me appear,)
I said: " O Father, since it thee doth please
To cleanse me from the sin I here may bear,
Great promises with small fulfilment aye
Shall make thee triumph on the papal chair."
And when the hour was come that I should die,
St. Francis came for me: but " Touch him not;
Do me no wrong," a dusky fiend did cry.
" Among my crew must henceforth be his lot,
Because he gave the counsel fraudulent,
Since which I closely to his side have sought
He is absolved not who doth not repent;
Nor evil will can with repentance go:
The contradiction here doth not consent."
O mournful me! I shook with fear and woe,
When now he seized me, saying: " It may be,
My powers of logic then thou didst not know."
To Minos now he carried me; and he
Eight times his serpent-tail did round him turn,
And bit his flesh in brute ferocity,
And said: " Bear thou this wretch unto the bourne
Of robber-flames." Thus am I lost for aye,
And clothid in this guise I ever mourn. "
When he had ended thus, with doleful sigh,
Swiftly the flame from out our sight was gone,
Bending its hornid point as it passed by.
I and my Master now our way went on,
Up by the rocks, till on that arch we came
Which covers the abyss wherein they moan,
Who discord sow'd on earth, and here do bear the blame.