Canto 33

From his savage repast that sinner raised his mouth, wiping it with the hair of the head that he had spoiled behind: then he began, “Thou willest that I renew a desperate grief that oppresses my heart already only in thinking ere I speak of it. But, if my words are to be seed that may bear fruit of infamy for the traitor whom I gnaw, thou shalt see me speak and weep at once. I know not who thou art, nor by what mode thou art come down hither, but Florentine thou seemest to me truly when I hear thee. Thou hast to know that I was the Count Ugolino and he the Archbishop Ruggieri.²⁴⁵ Now will I tell thee why I am such a neighbor. That by the effect of his evil thoughts, I, trusting to him, was taken and then put to death, there is no need to tell. But that which thou canst not have heard, namely, how cruel was my death, thou shalt hear, and shalt know if he hath wronged me.

The sinner lifted his mouth from his savage meal and wiped it on the hair of the head he had mangled from behind. Then he began, “You want me to renew a desperate grief that weighs on my heart even as I think of it, before I speak. But if my words may bring infamy upon the traitor I gnaw, you will see me speak and weep at once. I do not know who you are or how you came down here, but you truly sound Florentine to me. You must know that I was Count Ugolino and he was Archbishop Ruggieri.²⁴⁵ Now I will tell you why I am so close to him. I trusted him, and because of his evil plans, I was captured and then put to death. There is no need to tell you that. But you cannot have heard how cruel my death was. You will hear that now, and you will know whether he has wronged me.

“A narrow slit in the mew, which from me has the name of Famine, and in which others yet must be shut up, had already shown me through its opening many moons, when I had the bad dream that rent for me the veil of the future. “This one appeared to me master and lord, chasing the wolf and his whelps upon the mountain²⁴⁶ for which the Pisans cannot see Lucca. With lean, eager, and trained hounds, Gualandi with Sismondi and with Lanfranchi²⁴⁷ he had put before him at the front. After short course, the father and his sons seemed to me weary, and it seemed to me I saw their flanks torn by the sharp fangs.

“A narrow slit in the prison tower had already shown me many moons. The tower bears my name, Famine, and others must yet be locked inside it. Then I had the terrible dream that tore away the veil hiding the future from me. “This man appeared to me as master and lord of a hunt. He was chasing the wolf and his cubs on the mountain²⁴⁶ that keeps the Pisans from seeing Lucca. He had sent Gualandi, Sismondi, and Lanfranchi²⁴⁷ ahead of him with lean, eager, trained hounds. After a short chase, the father and his sons seemed weary. I thought I saw their flanks torn by sharp fangs.

“When I awoke before the morrow, I heard my sons, who were with me, wailing in their sleep, and asking for bread. Truly thou art cruel if already thou grievest not, thinking on what my heart foretold; and if thou weepest not, at what art thou wont to weep? Now they were awake, and the hour drew near when food was wont to be brought to us, and because of his dream each one was apprehensive. And I heard the door below of the horrible tower locking up; whereat I looked on the faces of my sons without saying a word. I wept not, I was so turned to stone within. They wept; and my poor little Anselm said, ‘Thou lookest so, father, what aileth thee?’ Yet I did not weep; nor did I answer all that day, nor the night after, until the next sun came out upon the world. When a little ray entered the woeful prison, and I discerned by their four faces my own very aspect, both my hands I bit for woe; and they, thinking I did it through desire of eating, of a sudden rose, and said, ‘Father, it will be far less pain to us if thou eat of us; thou didst clothe us with this wretched flesh, and do thou strip it off.’ I quieted me then, not to make them more sad: that day and the next we all stayed dumb. Ah, thou hard earth! why didst thou not open? After we had come to the fourth day, Gaddo threw himself stretched out at my feet, saying, ‘My father, why dost thou not help me?’ Here he died: and, even as thou seest me, I saw the three fall one by one between the fifth day and the sixth; then I betook me, already blind, to groping over each, and two days I called them after they were dead: then fasting had more power than grief.”

“When I woke before dawn, I heard my sons, who were with me, crying in their sleep and asking for bread. You are truly cruel if you do not already grieve at the thought of what my heart foresaw. And if you do not weep, what do you ever weep for? By then they were awake, and the usual hour for bringing us food was near. Each of them was afraid because of his dream. Then I heard the door below in the horrible tower being locked. I looked at my sons’ faces without saying a word. I did not weep, because I had turned to stone inside. They wept, and my poor little Anselm said, ‘Father, what is wrong? Why do you look like that?’ Still I did not weep or answer. I remained silent all that day and the following night, until the sun rose again. When a little ray of sunlight entered the miserable prison, I saw my own expression on their four faces. In my grief, I bit both my hands. They thought I did it because I wanted to eat. Suddenly they rose and said, ‘Father, it will cause us far less pain if you eat us. You gave us this wretched flesh, so take it away.’ I calmed myself then, so I would not make them sadder. That day and the next, we all stayed silent. Oh, hard earth! Why did you not open? On the fourth day, Gaddo threw himself down at my feet and lay there. ‘Father,’ he said, ‘why don’t you help me?’ He died there. Then, as surely as you see me now, I saw the other three fall one by one between the fifth and sixth days. By then I was blind, and I groped over each of them. For two days after they died, I called their names. Then hunger proved stronger than grief.”

When he had said this, with his eyes distorted, he seized again the wretched skull with his teeth, that were strong as a dog’s upon the bone.

After he said this, his eyes twisted, and he sank his teeth into the wretched skull again. His teeth gripped the bone as strongly as a dog’s.

Ah Pisa! reproach of the people of the fair country where the si doth sound,²⁴⁸ since thy neighbors are slow to punish thee, let Caprara and Gorgona²⁴⁹ move and make a hedge for Arno at its mouth, so that it drown every person in thee; for if Count Ugolino had repute of having betrayed thee in thy towns, thou oughtest not to have set his sons on such a cross. Their young age, thou modern Thebes! made Uguccione and the Brigata innocent, and the other two that the song names above.

Ah Pisa! You are a disgrace to the people of the fair country where si is spoken.²⁴⁸ Since your neighbors are slow to punish you, let Caprara and Gorgona²⁴⁹ move and block the mouth of the Arno, so that the river drowns everyone in Pisa. For even if Count Ugolino was reputed to have betrayed you by surrendering your towns, you should not have subjected his sons to such suffering. You modern Thebes! Uguccione and the Brigata were innocent because of their young age, as were the other two named earlier in the song.

We passed onward to where the ice roughly enswathes another folk, not turned downward, but all upon their backs. Their very weeping lets them not weep, and the pain that finds a barrier on the eyes turns inward to increase the anguish; for the first tears form a block, and like a visor of crystal fill all the cup beneath the eyebrow.

We went on to where the ice harshly encases another group, all lying on their backs instead of face down. Their own tears keep them from weeping. The pain, blocked at their eyes, turns inward and makes their anguish worse. For the first tears freeze into a block, filling the hollow beneath each eyebrow like a crystal visor.

And although, because of the cold, as from a callus, all feeling had left its abode in my face, it now seemed to me I felt some wind, wherefore I, “My Master, who moves this? Is not every vapor²⁵⁰ quenched here below?” Whereon he to me, “Speedily shalt thou be where thine eye shall make answer to thee of this, beholding the cause that rains down the blast.”

Although the cold had left my face completely numb, as if it were covered in a callus, I thought I felt some wind. So I asked, “My Master, what makes this wind? Is not every vapor²⁵⁰ extinguished down here?” He replied, “Soon you will see for yourself what sends down this blast.”

And one of the wretches of the cold crust cried out to us, “O souls so cruel that the last station is given to you, lift from my eyes the hard veils, so that I may vent the grief that swells my heart, a little ere the weeping re-congeal!” Wherefore I to him, “If thou wilt that I relieve thee, tell me who thou art, and if I rid thee not, may it be mine to go to the bottom of the ice.” He replied then, “I am friar Alberigo;²⁵¹ I am he of the fruits of the bad garden, and here I receive a date for a fig.”²⁵² “Oh!” said I to him; “art thou now already dead?” And he to me, “How it may go with my body in the world above I bear no knowledge. Such vantage hath this Ptolomaea²⁵³ that oftentime the soul falls hither ere Atropos hath given motion to it.²⁵⁴ And that thou may the more willingly scrape the glassy tears from my face, know that soon as the soul betrays, as I did, its body is taken from it by a demon, who thereafter governs it until its time be all revolved. The soul falls headlong into this cistern, and perchance the body of the shade that here behind me winters still appears above; thou oughtest to know him if thou comest down but now. He is Ser Branca d’ Oria,²⁵⁵ and many years have passed since he was thus shut up.” “I think,” said I to him, “that thou deceivest me, for Branca d’ Oria is not yet dead, and he eats, and drinks, and sleeps, and puts on clothes.” “In the ditch of the Malebranche above,” he said, “there where the tenacious pitch is boiling, Michel Zanche had not yet arrived when this one left in his own stead a devil in his body, and in that of one of his near kin, who committed the treachery together with him. But now stretch out hither thy hand; open my eyes for me.” And I opened them not for him, and to be rude to him was courtesy.

One of the wretches in the frozen crust cried out to us, “O souls so cruel that the last station is reserved for you, lift the hard veils from my eyes. Let me release some of the grief swelling my heart before my tears freeze again!” So I said to him, “If you want me to help you, tell me who you are. If I do not free your eyes, may I go to the bottom of the ice.” He replied, “I am friar Alberigo.²⁵¹ I am the one who offered the fruit of the bad garden, and here I receive a date for a fig.”²⁵² “Oh!” I said to him. “Are you already dead?” He said to me, “I have no knowledge of what has happened to my body in the world above. Ptolomaea²⁵³ has this advantage: often a soul falls here before Atropos has set it in motion.²⁵⁴ “And so that you may be more willing to scrape the glassy tears from my face, know this. As soon as a soul betrays someone, as I did, a demon takes possession of its body. The demon then controls the body until its time is up. The soul falls headlong into this cistern. And perhaps the body of the shade wintering here behind me still appears in the world above. You should know him if you have only just come down. He is Ser Branca d’ Oria,²⁵⁵ and many years have passed since he was shut up here.” “I think you are deceiving me,” I said to him. “Branca d’ Oria is not yet dead. He eats and drinks and sleeps and puts on clothes.” “In the ditch of the Malebranche above,” he said, “where the sticky pitch is boiling, Michel Zanche had not yet arrived when Branca left a devil in his body in his place. He also left a devil in the body of a close relative who shared in his treachery. But now reach out your hand and open my eyes.” And I did not open them for him. To be rude to him was courtesy.

Ah Genoese! men strange to all morality and full of all corruption, why are ye not scattered from the world? For with the worst spirit of Romagna I found one of you such that for his deeds in soul he is bathed in Cocytus, and in body he seems still alive on earth.

Ah, Genoese! You have no morality and are full of corruption. Why have you not been wiped from the world? For alongside the worst spirit of Romagna, I found one of you. Because of his deeds, his soul is submerged in Cocytus, though his body still seems alive on earth.