Canto 13

Nessus had not yet reached the yonder bank when we set forward through a wood which was marked by no path. Not green leaves but of a dusky color, not smooth boughs but knotty and gnarled, not fruits were there but thorns with poison. Those savage beasts that hold in hate the tilled places between Cecina and Corneto have no thickets so rough or so dense.

Nessus had not yet reached the far bank when we set out through a forest with no path. Its leaves were dark, not green. Its branches were knotty and gnarled, not smooth. Instead of fruit, it bore poisonous thorns. Even the wild beasts that shun the cultivated land between Cecina and Corneto have no thickets so rough or dense.

Here the foul Harpies make their nests, who chased the Trojans from the Strophades with dismal announcement of future calamity. They have broad wings, and human necks and faces, feet with claws, and a great feathered belly. They make lament upon the strange trees.

Here the foul Harpies build their nests. They chased the Trojans from the Strophades with a grim warning of disaster to come. They have broad wings, human necks and faces, clawed feet, and large feathered bellies. They cry out in lament among the strange trees.

And the good Master, “Before thou enter farther know that thou art in the second round,” he began to say to me, “and wilt be, till thou shalt come unto the horrible sand. Therefore look well around, and so thou shalt see things that would take credence from my speech.”³⁹

And the good Master began to say to me, “Before you go any farther, know that you are in the second round. You will remain in it until you reach the horrible sand. So look carefully around you, and you will see things that would make my words hard to believe.”³⁹

I heard wailings uttered on every side, and I saw no one who might make them, wherefore, I, all bewildered, stopped. I believe that he believed that I believed that all these voices issued amid those stumps from people who because of us had hidden themselves.

I heard wails on every side, but I saw no one who could be making them. Bewildered, I stopped. I think he believed that I thought all the voices came from people hiding among the stumps because of us.

Therefore said the Master, “If thou break off a twig from one of these plants, the thoughts thou hast will all be cut short.” Then I stretched my hand a little forward and plucked a branchlet from a great thorn-bush, and its trunk cried out, “Why dost thou rend me?” When it had become dark with blood it began again to cry, “Why dost thou tear me? hast thou not any spirit of pity? Men we were, and now we are become stocks; truly thy hand ought to be more pitiful had we been the souls of serpents.”

So the Master said, “If you break a twig from one of these plants, all your thoughts will be cut short.” Then I reached forward and plucked a small branch from a great thorn bush. Its trunk cried out, “Why are you tearing me?” When the trunk had darkened with blood, it cried out again, “Why are you tearing me? Have you no pity? We were men, and now we have become tree trunks. Surely your hand should show more pity, even if we had been the souls of serpents.”

As from a green log that is burning at one of its ends, and from the other drips, and hisses with the air that is escaping, so from that broken splinter came out words and blood together; whereon I let the tip fall, and stood like a man who is afraid.

A green log burning at one end drips at the other and hisses as air escapes. In the same way, words and blood came out together from the broken splinter. I dropped the tip and stood there like a frightened man.

“If he had been able to believe before,” replied my Sage, “O wounded soul, what he has seen only in my verse,⁴⁰ he would not upon thee have stretched his hand. But the incredible thing made me prompt him to an act which grieves my very self. But tell him who thou wast, so that, by way of some amends, he may refresh thy fame in the world above, whereto it is allowed him to return.”

“If he had been able to believe what he has seen only in my verse,⁴⁰” replied my Sage, “he would not have laid his hand on you, wounded soul. But because the thing was so hard to believe, I urged him to do something that grieves me too. But tell him who you were, so that he may make some amends by restoring your fame in the world above. He is allowed to return there.”

And the trunk, “So with sweet speech dost thou allure me, that I cannot be silent, and may it not displease you, that I am enticed to speak a little. I am he who held both the keys of the heart of Frederick, and who turned them, locking and unlocking so softly, that from his confidence I kept almost every one.⁴¹ Fidelity so great I bore to the glorious office, that I lost slumber and strength thereby. The harlot,⁴² that never from the abode of Caear turned her strumpet eyes,—the common death and vice of courts,—inflamed all minds against me, and they, inflamed, did so inflame Augustus that my glad honors turned to dismal sorrows. My mind, in scornful temper thinking to escape scorn by death, made me unjust toward my just self. By the strange roots of this tree I swear to you, that I never broke faith unto my lord who was so worthy of honor. And if one of you returneth to the world, let him comfort my memory that yet lies prostrate from the blow that envy gave it.”

And the trunk said, “Your gentle words move me so deeply that I cannot stay silent. Please do not be displeased that I am tempted to speak a little. I am the man who held both keys to Frederick’s heart. I turned them, locking and unlocking so gently that I kept almost everyone else from his confidence.⁴¹ I served that glorious office so faithfully that I lost sleep and strength. The harlot,⁴² who never turned her wanton eyes from Caear’s home, stirred every mind against me. She is the common ruin and vice of courts. Those she stirred up then turned Augustus against me, so that my happy honors became bitter sorrows. In my scornful state of mind, I thought I could escape scorn through death. So I made myself unjust toward my own innocent self. By the strange roots of this tree, I swear to you that I never betrayed my lord. He was so worthy of honor. And if one of you returns to the world, let him restore my reputation, which still lies crushed by envy’s blow.”

A while he paused, and then, “Since he is silent,” said the Poet to me, “lose not the hour, but speak and ask of him, if more pleaseth thee.” Whereon I to him, “Do thou ask him further of what thou thinkest may satisfy me, for I cannot, such pity fills my heart.”

He paused for a while. Then the Poet said to me, “Since he is silent, do not waste time. Speak and ask him more, if you wish.” I replied, “Please ask him more about whatever you think might satisfy me. I cannot, because my heart is so full of pity.”

Therefore he began again, “So may this man do for thee freely what thy speech prays, spirit incarcerate, still be pleased to tell us how the soul is bound within these knots, and tell us, if thou canst, if any from such limbs is ever loosed.”

Then he spoke again, “Imprisoned spirit, may this man freely do what you ask of him. Please tell us how the soul is bound within these knots. And tell us, if you can, whether any soul is ever freed from such limbs.”

Then the trunk puffed strongly, and soon that wind was changed into this voice: “Briefly shall ye be answered. When the ferocious soul departeth from the body wherefrom itself hath torn itself, Minos sends it to the seventh gulf. It falls into the wood, and no part is chosen for it, but where fortune flings it, there it takes root like a grain of spelt; it springs up in a shoot and to a wild plant. The Harpies, feeding then upon its leaves, give pain, and to the pain a window.⁴³ Like the rest we shall go for our spoils,⁴⁴ but not, forsooth, that any one may revest himself with them, for it is not just to have that of which one deprives himself. Hither shall we drag them, and through the melancholy wood shall our bodies be suspended, each on the thorn-tree of his molested shade.”

Then the trunk breathed out forcefully, and soon that breath turned into a voice: “I will answer you briefly. When the fierce soul leaves the body it has torn itself from, Minos sends it to the seventh gulf. It falls into the wood, with no place chosen for it. Wherever fortune throws it, it takes root like a grain of spelt. It sprouts and grows into a wild plant. The Harpies feed on its leaves, causing pain and giving that pain an outlet.⁴³ Like the rest, we shall go to claim our spoils,⁴⁴ but certainly not to put them on again. It is not just to have what one has taken from oneself. We shall drag our bodies here, and they shall hang throughout the gloomy wood, each on the thorn tree of its tormented soul.”

We were still attentive to the trunk, believing that it might wish to say more to us, when we were surprised by an uproar, as one who perceives the wild boar and the chase coming toward his stand and hears the Feasts and the branches crashing. And behold two on the left hand, naked and scratched, flying so violently that they broke all the limbs of the wood. The one in front was shouting, “Now, help, help, Death!” and the other, who seemed to himself too slow, “Lano, thy legs were not so nimble at the jousts of the Toppo:”⁴⁵ and when perhaps his breath was failing, of himself and of a bush he made a group. Behind them the wood was full of black bitches, ravenous and running like greyhounds that have been unleashed. On him that had squatted they set their teeth and tore him to pieces, bit by bit, then carried off his woeful limbs.

We were still listening to the trunk, thinking it might want to say more. Suddenly, an uproar startled us. It was like hearing a wild boar and the hunters coming toward one’s post, with beasts and branches crashing. Then we saw two men on our left. They were naked and scratched, and they were fleeing so wildly that they broke all the branches in the woods. The man in front shouted, “Now, help, help, Death!” The other, who thought he was going too slowly, shouted, “Lano, your legs were not so nimble at the jousts of the Toppo.”⁴⁵ Then, perhaps because he was running out of breath, he huddled in a bush. Behind them, the woods were full of black female dogs, ravenous and running like greyhounds that had been unleashed. They sank their teeth into the man who had crouched in the bush and tore him apart, bit by bit. Then they carried off his pitiful limbs.

My Guide then took me by the hand, and led me to the bush, which was weeping through its bleeding breaks in vain. “O Jacomo of Sant’ Andrea,” it was saying, “what hath it vantaged thee to make of me a screen? What blame have I for thy wicked life?” When the Master had stopped beside it, he said, “Who wast thou, who through so many wounds blowest forth with blood thy woeful speech?” And he to us, “O souls who art arrived to see the shameful ravage that hath thus disjoined my leaves from me, collect them at the foot of the wretched bush. I was of the city which for the Baptist changed her first patron;⁴⁶ wherefore will he always make her sorrowful with his art. And were it not that at the passage of the Arno some semblance of him yet remains, those citizens who afterwards rebuilt it upon the ashes that were left by Attila⁴⁷ would have labored in vain. I made a gibbet for myself of my own dwelling.”

My Guide took me by the hand and led me to the bush. It was weeping in vain through its bleeding wounds. “O Jacomo of Sant’ Andrea,” it said, “what good did it do you to use me as a shield? What blame do I bear for your wicked life?” When the Master stopped beside it, he said, “Who were you, who speak so sorrowfully through so many bleeding wounds?” The bush answered us, “O souls who have come to see this shameful ruin, my leaves have been torn from me. Gather them at the foot of this wretched bush. I came from the city that exchanged its first patron for the Baptist.⁴⁶ For that reason, he will always make the city suffer through his art. Some likeness of him still remains at the crossing of the Arno. If it did not, those citizens who later rebuilt the city on the ashes left by Attila⁴⁷ would have worked in vain. I made my own home into a gallows for myself.”