Canto 16

Now was I in a place where the resounding of the water that was falling into the next circle was heard, like that hum which the beehives make, when three shades together separated themselves, running, from a troop that was passing under the rain of the bitter torment. They came toward us, and each cried out, “Stop thou, that by thy garb seemest to us to be one from our wicked city!”

I was now in a place where I could hear water falling into the next circle. It sounded like the hum of beehives. Three shades broke away from a group passing through the rain of bitter torment and ran toward us. Each one cried out, “Stop! Your clothing makes you look like someone from our wicked city!”

Ah me! what wounds I saw upon their limbs, recent and old, burnt in by the flames. Still it grieves me for them but to remember it.

Oh, the wounds I saw on their limbs, both new and old, burned there by the flames! Remembering them still fills me with sorrow.

To their cries my Teacher gave heed; he turned his face toward me, and “Now wait,” he said; “to these one should be courteous, and were it not for the fire that the nature of the place shoots out, I should say that haste better befitted thee than them.”

My Teacher heard their cries and turned to me. “Now wait,” he said. “You should be courteous to these people. And if this place did not shoot out fire, I would say you should hurry more than they should.”

They began again, when we stopped, the old verse, and when they had reached us they made a wheel of themselves all three. As champions naked and oiled are wont to do, watching their hold and their vantage, before they come to blows and thrusts, thus, wheeling, each directed his face on me, so that his neck in contrary direction to his feet was making continuous journey.

When we stopped, they began the old verse again. When they reached us, all three formed a circle. They circled like naked, oiled wrestlers watching for a grip and an advantage before they grapple. As they moved, each kept his face turned toward me, so that his neck turned constantly against the direction of his feet.

“Ah! if the misery of this shifting sand bring us and our prayers into contempt,” began one, “and our darkened and blistered aspect, let our fame incline thy mind to tell us who thou art, that so securely plantest thy living feet in Hell. He whose tracks thou seest me trample, though he go naked and singed, was of greater state than thou thinkest. Grandson he was of the good Gualdrada; his name was Guidoguerra, and in his life he did much with counsel, and with the sword. The other who treads the sand behind me is Tegghiaio Aldobrandi, whose fame should be welcome in the world above. And I, who am set with them on the cross, was Jacopo Rusticucci,⁶⁰ and surely my savage wife more than aught else injures.

“Ah! If the misery of this shifting sand makes you look down on us and our prayers,” one began, “and if our darkened and blistered appearance does the same, let our fame move you to tell us who you are. You walk so confidently through Hell on living feet. The man whose tracks you see me tread, though he goes naked and scorched, was greater than you think. He was the grandson of the good Gualdrada. His name was Guidoguerra, and in life he accomplished much through his counsel and his sword. The other man walking on the sand behind me is Tegghiaio Aldobrandi, whose fame should be welcome in the world above. And I, who share their torment on the cross, was Jacopo Rusticucci,⁶⁰ and surely my savage wife harms me more than anything else.

If I could have been sheltered from the fire I would have cast myself below among them, and I think that the Teacher would have permitted it; but because I should have been scorched and baked, fear overcame my good will that made me greedy to embrace them. Then I began: “Not contempt, but grief, did your condition fix within me, so that slowly will it be all divested, soon as this my Lord said words to me by which I understood that such folk as ye are might be coming. Of your city I am; and always your deeds and honored names have I retraced and heard with affection. I leave the gall and go for the sweet fruits promised me by my veracious Leader; but far as the centre needs must I first descend.”

If I could have been protected from the fire, I would have thrown myself down among them. I think the Teacher would have allowed it. But I would have been scorched and baked, so fear overcame my desire to embrace them. Then I began: “Your condition filled me not with contempt, but with grief. It will take a long time for that grief to leave me completely. I felt it as soon as my Lord said words that told me people like you might be coming. I am from your city, and I have always recalled your deeds and heard your honored names with affection. I leave the bitterness behind and go toward the sweet fruits promised me by my truthful Leader. But first I must descend as far as the center.”

“So may thy soul long direct thy limbs,” replied he then, “and so may thy fame shine after thee, say if courtesy and valor abide in our city as they were wont, or if they have quite gone forth from it? For Guglielmo Borsiere,⁶¹ who is in torment with us but short while, and goes yonder with our companions, afflicts us greatly with his words.”

“May your soul long guide your body,” he replied, “and may your fame shine after you are gone. Tell me, do courtesy and valor still live in our city as they once did, or have they vanished entirely? For Guglielmo Borsiere,⁶¹ who has been in torment with us for only a short time, greatly troubles us with his words. He is over there with our companions.”

“The new people and the sudden gains⁶² have generated pride and excess, Florence, in thee, so that already thou weepest thereat.” Thus cried I with face uplifted. And the three, who understood that for answer, looked one at the other, as men look at hearing truth.

“The newcomers and sudden wealth⁶² have brought pride and excess to you, Florence, so that you already weep over them.” I cried out with my face raised. The three understood that this was my answer. They looked at one another, as people do when they hear the truth.

“If other times it costeth thee so little,” replied they all, “to satisfy others, happy thou that thus speakest at thy pleasure. Therefore, if thou escapest from these dark places, and returnest to see again the beautiful stars, when it shall rejoice thee to say, ‘I have been,’ mind thou speak of us unto the people.” Then they broke the wheel, and in flying their swift legs seemed wings.

“If it costs you so little at other times to satisfy others,” they all replied, “you are fortunate to speak so freely. So, if you escape these dark places and return to see the beautiful stars again, remember to tell people about us when you take pleasure in saying, ‘I have been there.’” Then they broke their circle and fled, their swift legs seeming like wings.

Not an amen could have been said so quickly as they had disappeared; wherefore it seemed good to my Master to depart. I followed him, and we had gone little way before the sound of the water was so near to us, that had we spoken we scarce had heard. As that river on the left slope of the Apennine, which, the first from Monte Veso toward the east, has its proper course,—which is called Acquacheta up above, before it sinks valleyward into its low bed, and at Forli no longer has that name,⁶³ —reverberates from the alp in falling with a single leap there above San Benedetto, where there ought to be shelter for a thousand;⁶⁴ thus down from a precipitous bank we found that dark-tinted water resounding, so that in short while it would have hurt the ears.

They disappeared faster than anyone could have said an amen, so my Master decided it was time to leave. I followed him. We had not gone far before the sound of the water was so close that we could barely have heard each other speak. On the left slope of the Apennine, a river follows its own course. It is the first such river east of Monte Veso. Higher up, it is called Acquacheta, before it descends into its low bed in the valley. By Forli it no longer bears that name.⁶³ Above San Benedetto, where there ought to be shelter for a thousand, the river plunges in a single leap, its sound echoing from the mountain.⁶⁴ Just as that river roars, we found dark water crashing down a steep bank. Before long, the noise would have hurt our ears.

I had a cord girt around me, and with it I had once thought to take the leopard of the dappled skin.⁶⁵ After I had loosed it wholly from me, even as my Leader had commanded me, I reached it to him wound up and coiled. Whereon he turned toward the right, and somewhat far from the edge threw it down into that deep abyss. “And surely some strange thing must needs respond,” said I to myself, “to the strange signal which the Master so follows with his eye.”

I had a cord tied around my waist. I had once thought I could use it to catch the spotted leopard.⁶⁵ My Leader told me to untie the cord, and I did. Then I coiled it up and handed it to him. He turned to the right and threw it into the deep abyss, some distance from the edge. “Surely some strange thing must respond to that strange signal,” I said to myself, as the Master watched it.

Ah! how cautious men ought to be near those who see not only the act, but with their wisdom look within the thoughts. He said to me: “Soon will come up that which I await, and what thy thought is dreaming must soon discover itself unto thy sight.”

Ah! How careful people should be around those who see not only their actions, but also, with wisdom, their thoughts. He said to me: “What I am waiting for will soon appear, and you will soon see what you are imagining.”

To that truth which has the aspect of falsehood ought one always to close his lips so far as he can, because without fault it causes shame;⁶⁶ but here I cannot be silent, and by the notes of this comedy, Reader, I swear to thee,—so may they not be void of lasting grace,—that I saw through that thick and dark air a shape come swimming upwards marvelous to every steadfast heart; like as he returns who goes down sometimes to loose an anchor that grapples either a rock or other thing that in the sea is hid, who stretches upward, and draws in his feet.

Whenever possible, one should keep silent about a truth that sounds like a lie. Such a truth brings shame upon the speaker, even when they are blameless.⁶⁶ But here I cannot remain silent. Reader, I swear by the verses of this comedy, and may they have lasting grace, that I saw a shape swimming upward through the thick, dark air. The sight would have amazed even the bravest heart. The shape rose like someone returning from a dive to free an anchor caught on a rock or something else hidden in the sea. Such a diver stretches upward and draws in his feet.