The Portable Dante (23 page)

See there Guido Bonatti; see Asdente, who wishes now he had been more devoted to making shoes—too late now for repentance.

And see those wretched hags who traded in needle, spindle, shuttle, for fortune-telling, and cast their spells with image-dolls and potions.

Now come along. Cain with his thorn-bush straddles the confines of both hemispheres already and dips into the waves below Seville;

and the moon last night already was at full; and you should well remember that at times when you were lost in the dark wood she helped you. ”

And we were moving all the time he spoke.

From this bridge to the next we walked and talked of things my Comedy does not care to tell; and when we reached the summit of the arch,

we stopped to see the next fosse of Malebolge and to hear more lamentation voiced in vain: I saw that it was very strangely dark!

In the vast and busy shipyard of the Venetians there boils all winter long a tough, thick pitch that is used to caulk the ribs of unsound ships.

Since winter will not let them sail, they toil: some build new ships, others repair the old ones, plugging the planks come loose from many sailings;

some hammer at the bow, some at the stern, one carves the oars while others twine the ropes, one mends the jib, one patches up the mainsail;

here, too, but heated by God’s art, not fire, a sticky tar was boiling in the ditch that smeared the banks with viscous residue.

I saw it there, but I saw nothing in it, except the rising of the boiling bubbles breathing in air to burst and sink again.

I stood intently gazing there below, my guide, shouting to me: “Watch out, watch out!” took hold of me and drew me to his side.

I turned my head like one who can’t resist looking to see what makes him run away (his body’s strength draining with sudden fear),

but, looking back, does not delay his flight; and I saw coming right behind our backs, rushing along the ridge, a devil, black!

His face, his look, how frightening it was! With outstretched wings he skimmed along the rock, and every single move he made was cruel;

on one of his high-hunched and pointed shoulders he had a sinner slung by both his thighs, held tightly clawed at the tendons of his heels.

He shouted from our bridge: “Hey, Malebranche, here’s one of Santa Zita’s elders for you! You stick him under—I’ll go back for more;

I’ve got that city stocked with the likes of him, they’re all a bunch of grafters, save Bonturo! You can change a ‘no’ to ‘yes’ for cash in Lucca. ”

He flung him in, then from the flinty cliff sprang off. No hound unleashed to chase a thief could have taken off with greater speed than he.

That sinner plunged, then floated up stretched out, and the devils underneath the bridge all shouted: “You shouldn’t imitate the Holy Face!

The swimming’s different here from in the Serchio! We have our grappling-hooks along with us— don’t show yourself above the pitch, or else!”

With a hundred prongs or more they pricked him, shrieking: “You’ve got to do your squirming under cover, try learning how to cheat beneath the surface. ”

They were like cooks who make their scullery boys poke down into the caldron with their forks to keep the meat from floating to the top.

My master said: “We’d best not let them know that you are here with me; crouch down behind some jutting rock so that they cannot see you;

whatever insults they may hurl at me, you must not fear, I know how things are run here; I have been caught in as bad a fix before. ”

He crossed the bridge and walked on past the end; as soon as he set foot on the sixth bank he forced himself to look as bold as possible.

With all the sound and fury that breaks loose when dogs rush out at some poor begging tramp, making him stop and beg from where he stands,

the ones who hid beneath the bridge sprang out and blocked him with a flourish of their pitchforks, but he shouted: “All of you behave yourselves!

Before you start to jab me with your forks, let one of you step forth to hear me out, and then decide if you still care to grapple. ”

They all cried out: “Let Malacoda go!” One stepped forward—the others stood their ground— and moving, said, “What good will this do him?”

“Do you think, Malacoda, ” said my master, “that you would see me here, come all this way, against all opposition, and still safe,

without propitious fate and God’s permission? Now let us pass, for it is willed in Heaven that I lead another by this savage path. ”

With this the devil’s arrogance collapsed, his pitchfork, too, dropped right down to his feet, as he announced to all: “Don’t touch this man!”

“You, hiding over there, ” my guide called me, “behind the bridge’s rocks, curled up and quiet, come back to me, you may return in safety. ”

At his words I rose and then I ran to him and all the devils made a movement forward; I feared they would not really keep their pact.

(I remember seeing soldiers under truce, as they left the castle of Caprona, frightened to be passing in the midst of such an enemy.)

I drew up close to him, as close as possible, and did not take my eyes from all those faces that certainly had nothing good about them.

Their prongs were aimed at me, and one was saying: “Now do I let him have it in the rump?” They answered all for one: “Sure, stick him good!”

But the devil who had spoken with my guide was quick to spin around and scream an order: “At ease there, take it easy, Scarmiglione!”

Then he said to us: “You cannot travel straight across this string of bridges, for the sixth arch lies broken at the bottom of its ditch;

if you have made your mind up to proceed, you must continue on along this ridge; not far, you’ll find a bridge that crosses it.

Five hours more and it will be one thousand, two hundred sixty-six years and a day since the bridge-way here fell crumbling to the ground.

I plan to send a squad of mine that way to see that no one airs himself down there; go along with them, they will not misbehave.

Front and center, Alichino, Calcabrina, ” he shouted his commands, “you too, Cagnazzo; Barbariccia, you be captain of the squad.

Take Libicocco with you and Draghignazzo, toothy Ciriatto and Graffiacane, Farfarello and our crazy Rubicante.

Now tour the ditch, inspect the boiling tar; these two shall have safe passage to the bridge connecting den to den without a break. ”

“O master, I don’t like the looks of this, ” I said, “let’s go, just you and me, no escort, you know the way. I want no part of them!

If you’re observant, as you usually are, why is it you don’t see them grind their teeth and wink at one another?—we’re in danger!”

And he to me: “I will not have you frightened; let them do all the grinding that they want, they do it for the boiling souls, not us. ”

Before they turned left-face along the bank each one gave their good captain a salute with farting tongue pressed tightly to his teeth,