[794] Cocytus: The frozen lake fed by the waters of Phlegethon. See Canto xiv. at the end.
[795] Tityus, etc.: These were other giants, stated by Lucan to be less strong than Antæus. This introduction of their names is therefore a piece of flattery to the monster. A light contemptuous turn is given by Virgil to his flattery when in the following sentence he bids Antæus not curl his snout, but at once comply with the demand for aid. There is something genuinely Italian in the picture given of the giants in this Canto, as of creatures whose intellect bears no proportion to their bulk and brute strength. Mighty hunters like Nimrod, skilled in sounding the horn but feeble in reasoned speech, Frisians with great thews and long of limb, and German men-at-arms who traded in their rude valour, to the subtle Florentine in whom the ferment of the Renaissance was beginning to work were all specimens of Nature’s handicraft that had better have been left unmade, were it not that wiser people could use them as tools.
[796] Carisenda: A tower still standing in Bologna, built at the beginning of the twelfth century, and, like many others of its kind in the city, erected not for strength but merely in order to dignify the family to whom it belonged. By way of further distinction to their owners, some of these towers were so constructed as to lean from the perpendicular. Carisenda, like its taller neighbour the Asinelli, still supplies a striking feature to the near and distant views of Bologna. What is left of it hangs for more than two yards off the plumb. In the half-century after Dante’s time it had, according to Benvenuto, lost something of its height. It would therefore as the poet saw it seem to be bending down even more than it now does to any one standing under it on the side it slopes to, when a cloud is drifting over it in the other direction.
CANTO XXXII.
Had I sonorous rough rhymes at command,
Such as would suit the cavern terrible
Rooted on which all the other ramparts stand,
The sap of fancies which within me swell
Closer I’d press; but since I have not these,
With some misgiving I go on to tell.
For ’tis no task to play with as you please,
Of all the world the bottom to portray,
Nor one that with a baby speech[797] agrees.
But let those ladies help me with my lay10
Who helped Amphion[798] walls round Thebes to pile,
And faithful to the facts my words shall stay.
O ’bove all creatures wretched, for whose vile
Abode ’tis hard to find a language fit,
As sheep or goats ye had been happier! While
We still were standing in the murky pit—
Beneath the giant’s feet[799] set far below—
And at the high wall I was staring yet,
When this I heard: ‘Heed to thy steps[800] bestow,
Lest haply by thy soles the heads be spurned20
Of wretched brothers wearied in their woe.’
Before me, as on hearing this I turned,
Beneath my feet a frozen lake,[801] its guise
Rather of glass than water, I discerned.
In all its course on Austrian Danube lies
No veil in time of winter near so thick,
Nor on the Don beneath its frigid skies,
As this was here; on which if Tabernicch[802]
Or Mount Pietrapana[803] should alight
Not even the edge would answer with a creak.30
And as the croaking frog holds well in sight
Its muzzle from the pool, what time of year[804]
The peasant girl of gleaning dreams at night;
The mourning shades in ice were covered here,
Seen livid up to where we blush[805] with shame.
In stork-like music their teeth chattering were.
With downcast face stood every one of them:
To cold from every mouth, and to despair
From every eye, an ample witness came.
And having somewhat gazed around me there40
I to my feet looked down, and saw two pressed
So close together, tangled was their hair,
‘Say, who are you with breast[806] thus strained to breast?’
I asked; whereon their necks they backward bent,
And when their upturned faces lay at rest
Their eyes, which earlier were but moistened, sent
Tears o’er their eyelids: these the frost congealed
And fettered fast[807] before they further went.
Plank set to plank no rivet ever held
More firmly; wherefore, goat-like, either ghost50
Butted the other; so their wrath prevailed.
And one who wanted both ears, which the frost
Had bitten off, with face still downward thrown,
Asked: ‘Why with us art thou so long engrossed?
If who that couple are thou’dst have made known—
The vale down which Bisenzio’s floods decline
Was once their father Albert’s[808] and their own.
One body bore them: search the whole malign
Caïna,[809] and thou shalt not any see
More worthy to be fixed in gelatine;60
Not he whose breast and shadow equally
Were by one thrust of Arthur’s lance[810] pierced through:
Nor yet Focaccia;[811] nor the one that me
With his head hampers, blocking out my view,
Whose name was Sassol Mascheroni:[812] well
Thou must him know if thou art Tuscan too.
And that thou need’st not make me further tell—
I’m Camicion de’ Pazzi,[813] and Carlin[814]
I weary for, whose guilt shall mine excel.’
A thousand faces saw I dog-like grin,70
Frost-bound; whence I, as now, shall always shake
Whenever sight of frozen pools I win.
While to the centre[815] we our way did make
To which all things converging gravitate,
And me that chill eternal caused to quake;
Whether by fortune, providence, or fate,
I know not, but as ’mong the heads I went
I kicked one full in the face; who therefore straight
‘Why trample on me?’ snarled and made lament,
‘Unless thou com’st to heap the vengeance high80
For Montaperti,[816] why so virulent
’Gainst me?’ I said: ‘Await me here till I
By him, O Master, shall be cleared of doubt;[817]
Then let my pace thy will be guided by.’
My Guide delayed, and I to him spake out,
While he continued uttering curses shrill:
‘Say, what art thou, at others thus to shout?’
‘But who art thou, that goest at thy will
Through Antenora,[818] trampling on the face
Of others? ’Twere too much if thou wert still90
In life.’ ‘I live, and it may help thy case,’
Was my reply, ‘if thou renown wouldst gain,
Should I thy name[819] upon my tablets place.’
And he: ‘I for the opposite am fain.
Depart thou hence, nor work me further dool;
Within this swamp thou flatterest all in vain.’
Then I began him by the scalp to pull,
And ‘Thou must tell how thou art called,’ I said,
‘Or soon thy hair will not be plentiful.’
And he: ‘Though every hair thou from me shred100
I will not tell thee, nor my face turn round;
No, though a thousand times thou spurn my head.’
His locks ere this about my fist were wound,
And many a tuft I tore, while dog-like wails
Burst from him, and his eyes still sought the ground.
Then called another: ‘Bocca, what now ails?
Is’t not enough thy teeth go chattering there,
But thou must bark? What devil thee assails?’
‘Ah! now,’ said I, ‘thou need’st not aught declare,
Accursed traitor; and true news of thee110
To thy disgrace I to the world will bear.’
‘Begone, tell what thou wilt,’ he answered me;
‘But, if thou issue hence, not silent keep[820]
Of him whose tongue but lately wagged so free.
He for the Frenchmen’s money[821] here doth weep.
Him of Duera saw I, mayst thou tell,
Where sinners shiver in the frozen deep.
Shouldst thou be asked who else within it dwell—
Thou hast the Beccheria[822] at thy side;
Across whose neck the knife at Florence fell.120
John Soldanieri[823] may be yonder spied
With Ganellon,[824] and Tribaldell[825] who threw
Faenza’s gates, when slept the city, wide.’
Him had we left, our journey to pursue,
When frozen in a hole[826] a pair I saw;
One’s head like the other’s hat showed to the view.
And, as their bread men hunger-driven gnaw,
The uppermost tore fiercely at his mate
Where nape and brain-pan to a junction draw.
No worse by Tydeus[827] in his scornful hate130
Were Menalippus’ temples gnawed and hacked
Than skull and all were torn by him irate.
‘O thou who provest by such bestial act
Hatred of him who by thy teeth is chewed,
Declare thy motive,’ said I, ‘on this pact—
That if with reason thou with him hast feud,
Knowing your names and manner of his crime
I in the world[828] to thee will make it good;
If what I speak with dry not ere the time.’
FOOTNOTES:
[797] A baby speech: ‘A tongue that cries mamma and papa’ For his present purpose, he complains, he has not in Italian an adequate supply of rough high-sounding rhymes; but at least he will use only the best words that can be found. In another work (De Vulg. El. ii. 7) he instances mamma and babbo as words of a kind to be avoided by all who would write nobly in Italian.