From bridge to bridge thus, speaking other things
Of which my Comedy cares not to sing,
We came along, and held the summit, when
We halted to behold another fissure
Of Malebolge and other vain laments;
And I beheld it marvellously dark.
As in the Arsenal of the Venetians
Boils in the winter the tenacious pitch
To smear their unsound vessels o’er
again,
For sail they cannot; and instead thereof
One makes his vessel new, and one recaulks
The ribs of that which many a voyage has
made;
One hammers at the prow, one at the stern,
This one makes oars, and that one cordage
twists,
Another mends the mainsail and the mizzen;
Thus, not by fire, but by the art divine,
Was boiling down below there a dense pitch
Which upon every side the bank belimed.
I saw it, but I did not see within it
Aught but the bubbles that the boiling
raised,
And all swell up and resubside compressed.
The while below there fixedly I gazed,
My Leader, crying out: “Beware,
beware!”
Drew me unto himself from where I stood.
Then I turned round, as one who is impatient
To see what it behoves him to escape,
And whom a sudden terror doth unman,
Who, while he looks, delays not his departure;
And I beheld behind us a black devil,
Running along upon the crag, approach.
Ah, how ferocious was he in his aspect!
And how he seemed to me in action ruthless,
With open wings and light upon his feet!
His shoulders, which sharp-pointed were and high,
A sinner did encumber with both haunches,
And he held clutched the sinews of the
feet.
From off our bridge, he said: “O Malebranche,
Behold one of the elders of Saint Zita;
Plunge him beneath, for I return for others
Unto that town, which is well furnished with them.
All there are barrators, except Bonturo;
No into Yes for money there is changed.”
He hurled him down, and over the hard crag
Turned round, and never was a mastiff
loosened
In so much hurry to pursue a thief.
The other sank, and rose again face downward;
But the demons, under cover of the bridge,
Cried: “Here the Santo Volto
has no place!
Here swims one otherwise than in the Serchio;
Therefore, if for our gaffs thou wishest
not,
Do not uplift thyself above the pitch.”
They seized him then with more than a hundred rakes;
They said: “It here behoves
thee to dance covered,
That, if thou canst, thou secretly mayest
pilfer.”
Not otherwise the cooks their scullions make
Immerse into the middle of the caldron
The meat with hooks, so that it may not
float.
Said the good Master to me: “That it be
not
Apparent thou art here, crouch thyself
down
Behind a jag, that thou mayest have some
screen;
And for no outrage that is done to me
Be thou afraid, because these things I
know,
For once before was I in such a scuffle.”
Then he passed on beyond the bridge’s head,
And as upon the sixth bank he arrived,
Need was for him to have a steadfast front.
With the same fury, and the same uproar,
As dogs leap out upon a mendicant,
Who on a sudden begs, where’er he
stops,
They issued from beneath the little bridge,
And turned against him all their grappling-irons;
But he cried out: “Be none
of you malignant!
Before those hooks of yours lay hold of me,
Let one of you step forward, who may hear
me,
And then take counsel as to grappling
me.”
They all cried out: “Let Malacoda go;”
Whereat one started, and the rest stood
still,
And he came to him, saying: “What
avails it?”
“Thinkest thou, Malacoda, to behold me
Advanced into this place,” my Master
said,
“Safe hitherto from all your skill
of fence,
Without the will divine, and fate auspicious?
Let me go on, for it in Heaven is willed
That I another show this savage road.”
Then was his arrogance so humbled in him,
That he let fall his grapnel at his feet,
And to the others said: “Now
strike him not.”
And unto me my Guide: “O thou, who sittest
Among the splinters of the bridge crouched
down,
Securely now return to me again.”
Wherefore I started and came swiftly to him;
And all the devils forward thrust themselves,
So that I feared they would not keep their
compact.
And thus beheld I once afraid the soldiers
Who issued under safeguard from Caprona,
Seeing themselves among so many foes.
Close did I press myself with all my person
Beside my Leader, and turned not mine
eyes
From off their countenance, which was
not good.
They lowered their rakes, and “Wilt thou have
me hit him,”
They said to one another, “on the
rump?”
And answered: “Yes; see that
thou nick him with it.”
But the same demon who was holding parley
With my Conductor turned him very quickly,
And said: “Be quiet, be quiet,
Scarmiglione;”
Then said to us: “You can no farther go
Forward upon this crag, because is lying
All shattered, at the bottom, the sixth
arch.
And if it still doth please you to go onward,
Pursue your way along upon this rock;
Near is another crag that yields a path.
Yesterday, five hours later than this hour,
One thousand and two hundred sixty-six
Years were complete, that here the way
was broken.
I send in that direction some of mine
To see if any one doth air himself;
Go ye with them; for they will not be
vicious.
Step forward, Alichino and Calcabrina,”
Began he to cry out, “and thou,
Cagnazzo;
And Barbariccia, do thou guide the ten.
Come forward, Libicocco and Draghignazzo,
And tusked Ciriatto and Graffiacane,
And Farfarello and mad Rubicante;
Search ye all round about the boiling pitch;
Let these be safe as far as the next crag,
That all unbroken passes o’er the
dens.”
“O me! what is it, Master, that I see?
Pray let us go,” I said, “without
an escort,
If thou knowest how, since for myself
I ask none.
If thou art as observant as thy wont is,
Dost thou not see that they do gnash their
teeth,
And with their brows are threatening woe
to us?”
And he to me: “I will not have thee fear;
Let them gnash on, according to their
fancy,
Because they do it for those boiling wretches.”
Along the left-hand dike they wheeled about;
But first had each one thrust his tongue
between
His teeth towards their leader for a signal;
And he had made a trumpet of his rump.
