Canto 25

At the end of his words the thief raised his hands with both the figs,¹⁴² crying, “Take that, God! for at thee I square them.” Thenceforth the serpents were my friends, for then one coiled around his neck, as if it said, “I will not that thou say more,” and another round his arms and bound them up anew, clinching itself so in front that he could not give a shake with them. Ah Pistoia! Pistoia! why dost thou not decree to make ashes of thyself, so that thou mayest last no longer, since in evil-doing thou surpassest thine own seed?¹⁴³ Through all the dark circles of Hell I saw no spirit against God so proud, not he who fell at Thebes down from the walls.¹⁴⁴ He fled away and spake no word more.

When he finished speaking, the thief raised both hands in the fig gesture,¹⁴² crying, “Take that, God! I’m making this gesture at you.” From then on, the serpents were my friends. One coiled around his neck, as if to say, “I won’t let you say any more.” Another coiled around his arms and bound them up again. It gripped itself so tightly in front that he could not shake his arms. Ah Pistoia! Pistoia! Why don’t you decide to burn yourself to ashes, so that you may exist no longer? For in wrongdoing you surpass even your own ancestors.¹⁴³ In all the dark circles of Hell, I saw no spirit so defiant toward God. Not even the one who fell from the walls at Thebes was so defiant.¹⁴⁴ The thief fled and said no more.

And I saw a Centaur full of rage come crying out, “Where is, where is that obdurate one?” I do not think Maremma has so many snakes as he had upon his croup up to where our semblance begins. On his shoulders behind the nape a dragon with open wings was lying upon him, and it sets on fire whomsoever it encounters. My Master said, “This is Cacus, who beneath the rock of Mount Aventine made oftentimes a lake of blood. He goes not on one road with his brothers because of the fraudulent theft he committed of the great herd that was in his neighborhood; wherefor his crooked deeds ceased under the club of Hercules, who perhaps dealt him a hundred blows with it, and he felt not ten.”

I saw a raging Centaur come forward, crying out, “Where is, where is that stubborn one?” I do not think Maremma has as many snakes as he had on his hindquarters, up to where his human form began. A dragon lay across his shoulders behind his neck, its wings spread. It sets fire to anyone it encounters. My Master said, “This is Cacus, who often made a lake of blood beneath the rock of Mount Aventine. He does not travel the same path as his brothers because he stole the great herd near him through deceit. His crooked deeds ended under the club of Hercules. Hercules perhaps struck him a hundred times, but he did not feel even ten blows.”

While he was so speaking, and that one had run by, lo! three spirits came below us, of whom neither I nor my Leader was aware till when they cried out, “Who are ye?” whereon our story stopped, and we then attended only unto them. I did not recognize them, but it happened, as it is wont to happen by chance, that one must needs name the other, saying, “Cianfa, where can he have stayed?” Whereupon I, in order that the Leader should attend, put my finger upward from my chin to my nose.

While he was speaking, and after the other one had run past, three spirits came below us. Neither my Guide nor I noticed them until they cried out, “Who are you?” We stopped talking and turned all our attention to them. I did not recognize them. But, as sometimes happens by chance, one of them mentioned another by name, saying, “Cianfa, where could he have stayed?” To make my Guide pay attention, I raised my finger from my chin to my nose.

If thou art now, Reader, slow to credit that which I shall tell, it will not be a marvel, for I who saw it hardly admit it to myself. As I was holding my brow raised upon them, lo! a serpent with six feet darts in front of one, and grapples close to him. With his middle feet he clasped his paunch, and with his forward took his arms, then struck his fangs in one and the other cheek. His hinder feet he stretched upon the thighs, and put his tail between the two, and behind bent it up along the reins. Ivy was never so bearded to a tree, as the horrible beast through the other’s limbs entwined his own. Then they stuck together as if they had been of hot wax, and mingled their color; nor one nor the other seemed now that which it was; even as before the flame, up along the paper a dark color proceeds which is not yet black, and the white dies away. The other two were looking on, and each cried, “O me! Agnello, how thou changest! Lo, now thou art neither two nor one! Now were the two heads become one, when there appeared to us two countenances mixed in one face wherein the two were lost. Of four¹⁴⁵ strips the two arms were made; the thighs with the legs, the belly and the chest became members that were never seen before. Each original aspect there was cancelled; both and neither the perverse image appeared, and such it went away with slow step.

Reader, if you are slow to believe what I am about to tell you, that is no wonder. I saw it myself, and I can hardly believe it. As I looked up at them, a six-footed serpent suddenly darted at one of them and clung tightly to him. It clasped his belly with its middle feet and seized his arms with its front feet. Then it sank its fangs into both his cheeks. It stretched its hind feet over his thighs and put its tail between them. Behind him, it bent the tail upward along his lower back. Ivy never clung so closely to a tree as the horrible beast entwined its limbs around his. Then they stuck together as if they were made of hot wax, and their colors mingled. Neither one looked as it had before. It was like paper turning dark ahead of a flame, as the white fades but has not yet turned black. The other two watched, and each cried, “Oh, Agnello, how you are changing! Look, now you are neither two nor one!” The two heads had become one. We saw two faces blended into a single face, in which both were lost. From four¹⁴⁵ limbs, two arms were made. The thighs and legs, the belly and chest became body parts never seen before. Both original forms had vanished. The twisted figure appeared to be both and neither, and in that form it walked slowly away.

As the lizard under the great scourge of the dog days, changing from hedge to hedge, seems a flash, if it crosses the way, so seemed, coming toward the belly of the two others, a little fiery serpent, livid, and black as a grain of pepper. And that part whereby our nourishment is first taken it transfixed in one of them, then fell down stretched out before him. The transfixed one gazed at it, but said nothing; nay rather, with feet fixed, he yawned even as if sleep or fever had assailed him. He looked at the serpent, and that at him; one through his wound, the other through his mouth, smoked violently, and their smoke met. Let Lucan henceforth be silent, where he tells of the wretched Sabellus, and of Nasidius, and wait to hear that which now is uttered. Let Ovid be silent concerning Cadmus and Arethusa, for if, poetizing, he converts him into a serpent and her into a fountain, I envy him not; for two natures front to front never did he transmute, so that both the forms were prompt to exchange their matter. To one another they responded by such rules, that the serpent made his tail into a fork, and the wounded one drew together his feet. The legs and the very thighs with them so stuck together, that in short while the juncture made no sign that was apparent. The cleft tail took on the shape that was lost there, and its skin became soft, and that of the other hard. I saw the arms draw in through the armpits, and the two feet of the beast which were short lengthen out in proportion as those shortened. Then the hinder feet, twisted together, became the member that man conceals, and the wretched one from his had two¹⁴⁶ stretched forth.

In the fierce heat of the dog days, a lizard darting between hedges seems like a flash as it crosses a path. So it was with a small, fiery serpent that came toward the bellies of the other two. It was livid and as black as a peppercorn. It pierced one of them through the part where we first receive nourishment. Then it fell stretched out before him. The pierced man stared at the serpent but said nothing. Instead, he stood with his feet fixed and yawned, as if overcome by sleep or fever. He looked at the serpent, and the serpent looked at him. Smoke poured from the man’s wound and the serpent’s mouth, and the two streams met. Let Lucan be silent from now on about the wretched Sabellus and Nasidius. Let him wait to hear what I now tell. Let Ovid be silent about Cadmus and Arethusa. In his poetry, he turns Cadmus into a serpent and Arethusa into a fountain, but I do not envy him. He never transformed two beings face to face, so that both forms were ready to exchange their substance. Their changes matched each other in this way. The serpent split its tail in two, while the wounded man drew his feet together. His legs and thighs stuck so closely together that soon no seam could be seen. The split tail took on the shape his legs had lost. The serpent’s skin became soft, while the man’s grew hard. I saw the man’s arms draw back through his armpits. The creature’s two short front feet grew longer as his arms grew shorter. Then the serpent’s hind feet twisted together and became the part a man conceals. From his own, the wretched man had two¹⁴⁶ feet stretch out.

While the smoke is veiling both with a new color, and generates hair on the one, and from the other strips it, one rose up, and the other fell down, not however turning aside their pitiless lights,¹⁴⁷ beneath which each was changing his visage. He who was erect drew his in toward the temples, and, from the excess of material that came in there, issued the ears on the smooth cheeks; that which did not run backwards but was retained, of its superfluity made a nose for the face, and thickened the lips so far as was needful. He who was lying down drives his muzzle forward, and draws in his ears through his skull, as the snail doth his horns. And his tongue, which erst was united and fit for speech, cleaves itself, and the forked one of the other closes up; and the smoke stops. The soul that had become a brute fled hissing along the valley, and behind him the other speaking spits. Then he turned upon him his new shoulders, and said to the other,¹⁴⁸ “I will that Buoso¹⁴⁹ run, as I have done, groveling along this path.”

While the smoke covered both in a new color, it gave hair to one and stripped it from the other. One rose up, and the other fell down. Yet neither turned his pitiless eyes away from the other,¹⁴⁷ even as each changed his face. The one standing drew his face in toward his temples. The excess flesh that gathered there formed ears on his smooth cheeks. The flesh that remained, instead of moving backward, formed a nose and thickened his lips as much as needed. The one lying down pushed his muzzle forward and pulled his ears into his skull, as a snail draws in its horns. His tongue, once whole and able to speak, split in two. The other’s forked tongue joined together, and the smoke stopped. The soul that had become a beast fled hissing along the valley, while the other spat and spoke behind him. Then he turned his new shoulders toward him and said to the other,¹⁴⁸ “I want Buoso¹⁴⁹ to run, as I have done, groveling along this path.”

Thus I saw the seventh ballast¹⁵⁰ change and rechange, and here let the novelty be my excuse, if my pen straggle¹⁵¹ a little. And although my eyes were somewhat confused, and my mind bewildered, those could not flee away so covertly but that I clearly distinguished Puccio Sciancato, and he it was who alone, of the three companions that had first come, was not changed; the other¹⁵² was he whom thou, Gaville, weepest.

Thus I saw the seventh ballast¹⁵⁰ change and change again. Let the strange sight excuse me if my pen wanders¹⁵¹ a little. Although my eyes were somewhat confused and my mind bewildered, the men could not slip away so secretly that I failed to recognize Puccio Sciancato. He alone, of the three companions who had first arrived, had not changed. The other¹⁵² was the one you mourn, Gaville.