The Portable Dante (24 page)

I have seen troops of horsemen breaking camp, opening the attack, or passing in review, I have even seen them fleeing for their lives;

I have seen scouts ride, exploring your terrain, O Aretines, and I have seen raiding-parties and the clash of tournaments, the run of jousts—

to the tune of trumpets, to the ring of clanging bells, to the roll of drums, to the flash of flares on ramparts, to the accompaniment of every known device;

but I never saw cavalry or infantry or ships that sail by landmarks or by stars signaled to set off by such strange bugling!

So, on our way we went with those ten fiends. What savage company! But—in church, with saints— with rowdy good-for-nothings, in the tavern!

My attention now was fixed upon the pitch to see the operations of this
bolgia,
and how the cooking souls got on down there.

Much like the dolphins that are said to surface with their backs arched to warn all men at sea to rig their ships for stormy seas ahead,

so now and then a sinner’s back would surface in order to alleviate his pain, then dive to hide as quick as lightning strikes.

Like squatting frogs along the ditch’s edge, with just their muzzles sticking out of water, their legs and all the rest concealed below,

these sinners squatted all around their pond; but as soon as Barbariccia would approach they quickly ducked beneath the boiling pitch.

I saw (my heart still shudders at the thought) one lingering behind—as it sometimes happens one frog remains while all the rest dive down—

and Graffiacan, standing in front of him, hooked and twirled him by his pitchy hair and hoisted him. He looked just like an otter!

By then I knew the names of all the fiends: I had listened carefully when they were chosen, each of them stepping forth to match his name.

“Hey, Rubicante, dig your claws down deep into his back and peel the skin off him, ” this fiendish chorus egged him on with screams.

I said: “Master, will you, if you can, find out the name of that poor wretch who has just fallen into the cruel hands of his adversaries?”

My guide walked right up to the sinner’s side and asked where he was from, and he replied: “I was born and bred in the kingdom of Navarre;

my mother gave me to a lord to serve, for she had me by some dishonest spendthrift who ran through all he owned and killed himself.

Then I became a servant in the household of good King Thibault. There I learned my graft, and now I pay my bill by boiling here. ”

Ciriatto, who had two tusks sticking out on both sides of his mouth, just like a boar’s, let him feel how just one tusk could rip him open.

The mouse had fallen prey to evil cats, but Barbariccia locked him with his arms, shouting: “Get back while I’ve got hold of him!”

Then toward my guide he turned his face and said: “If you want more from him, keep questioning before he’s torn to pieces by the others. ”

My guide went on: “Then tell me, do you know of some Italian stuck among these sinners beneath the pitch?” And he, “A second ago

I was with one who lived around those parts. Oh, I wish I were undercover with him now! I wouldn’t have these hooks or claws to fear. ”

Libicocco cried: “We’ve waited long enough, ” then with his fork he hooked the sinner’s arm and, tearing at it, he pulled out a piece.

Draghignazzo, too, was anxious for some fun; he tried the wretch’s leg, but their captain quickly spun around and gave them all a dirty look.

As soon as they calmed down a bit, my master began again to interrogate the wretch, who still was contemplating his new wound:

“Who was it, you were saying, that unluckily you left behind you when you came ashore?” “Gomita, ” he said, “the friar from Gallura,

receptacle for every kind of fraud: when his lord’s enemies were in his hands, the treatment they received delighted them:

he took their cash, and as he says, hushed up the case and let them off; none of his acts was petty grafting, all were of sovereign order.

He spends his time with don Michele Zanche of Logodoro, talking on and on about Sardinia—their tongues no worse for wear!

Oh, but look how that one grins and grinds his teeth; I could tell you so much more, but I am afraid he is going to grate my scabby hide for me. ”

But their master-sergeant turned to Farfarello, whose wild eyes warned he was about to strike, shouting, “Get away, you filthy bird of prey. ”

“If you would like to see Tuscans or Lombards, ” the frightened shade took up where he left off, “and have a talk with them, I’ll bring some here;

but the Malebranche must back up a bit, or else those shades won’t risk a surfacing; I, by myself, will bring you up a catch

of seven, without moving from this spot, just by whistling—that’s our signal to the rest when one peers out and sees the coast is clear. ”

Cagnazzo raised his snout at such a story, then shook his head and said: “Listen to the trick he’s cooked up to get off the hook by jumping!”

And he, full of the tricks his trade had taught him, said: “Tricky, I surely am, especially when it comes to getting friends into worse trouble. ”

But Alichin could not resist the challenge, and in spite of what the others thought, cried out: “If you jump, I won’t come galloping for you,

I’ve got my wings to beat you to the pitch. We’ll clear this ledge and wait behind that slope. Let’s see if one of you can outmatch us!”

Now listen, Reader, here’s a game that’s strange: they all turned toward the slope, and first to turn was the fiend who from the start opposed the game.

The Navarrese had perfect sense of timing: feet planted on the ground, in a flash he jumped, the devil’s plan was foiled, and he was free.

The squad was stung with shame but most of all the one who brought this blunder to perfection; he swooped down, howling, “Now I’ve got you caught!”

Little good it did, for wings could not outstrip the flight of terror: down the sinner dived and up the fiend was forced to strain his chest

like a falcon swooping down on a wild duck: the duck dives quickly out of sight, the falcon must fly back up dejected and defeated.

In the meantime, Calcabrina, furious, also took off, hoping the shade would make it, so he could pick a fight with his companion.

And when he saw the grafter hit the pitch, he turned his claws to grapple with his brother, and they tangled in mid-air above the ditch;

but the other was a full-fledged hawk as well and used his claws on him, and both of them went plunging straight into the boiling pond.

The heat was quick to make them separate, but there seemed no way of getting out of there; their wings were clogged and could not lift them up.

Barbariccia, no less peeved than all his men, sent four fiends flying to the other shore with their equipment at top speed; instantly,

some here, some there, they took the posts assigned them. They stretched their hooks to reach the pitch-dipped pair, who were by now deep-fried within their crusts.

And there we left them, all messed up that way.

In silence, all alone, without an escort, we moved along, one behind the other, like minor friars bent upon a journey.

I was thinking over one of Aesop’s fables that this recent skirmish had brought back to mind, where he tells the story of the frog and mouse;

for “yon” and “there” could not be more alike than the fable and the fact, if one compares the start and finish of both incidents.

As from one thought another often rises, so this thought gave quick birth to still another, and then the fear I first had felt was doubled.

I was thinking: “Since these fiends, on our account, were tricked and mortified by mockery, they certainly will be more than resentful;

with rage now added to their evil instincts, they will hunt us down with all the savagery of dogs about to pounce upon the hare. ”

I felt my body’s skin begin to tighten— I was so frightened!—and I kept looking back: “O master, ” I said, “if you do not hide

both of us, and very quick, I am afraid of the Malebranche—right now they’re on our trail— I feel they’re there, I think I hear them now. ”

And he replied: “Even if I were a mirror I could not reflect your outward image faster than your inner thoughts transmit themselves to me.

In fact, just now they joined themselves with mine, and since they were alike in birth and form, I decided to unite them toward one goal:

if the right-hand bank should slope in such a way as to allow us to descend to the next
bolgia,
we could escape that chase we have imagined. ”

He had hardly finished telling me his plan when I saw them coming with their wings wide open not too far off, and now they meant to get us!

My guide instinctively caught hold of me, like a mother waking to some warning sound, who sees the rising flames are getting close

and grabs her son and runs—she does not wait the short time it would take to put on something; she cares not for herself, only for him.

And over the edge, then down the stony bank he slid, on his back, along the sloping rock that walls the higher side of the next
bolgia.

Water that turns a mill wheel never ran the narrow sluice at greater speed, not even at the point before it hits the paddle-blades,

than down that sloping border my guide slid, bearing me with him, clasping me to his chest as though I were his child, not his companion.

His feet had hardly touched rock bottom, when there they were, the ten of them, above us on the height; but now there was no need to fear:

High Providence that willed for them to be the ministers in charge of the fifth ditch also willed them powerless to leave their realm.

And now, down there, we found a painted people, slow-motioned: step by step, they walked their round in tears, and seeming wasted by fatigue.

All were wearing cloaks with hoods pulled low covering the eyes (the style was much the same as those the Benedictines wear at Cluny),

dazzling, gilded cloaks outside, but inside they were lined with lead, so heavy that the capes King Frederick used, compared to these, were straw.

O cloak of everlasting weariness! We turned again, as usual, to the left and moved with them, those souls lost in their mourning;

but with their weight that tired-out race of shades paced on so slowly that we found ourselves in new company with every step we took;

and so I asked my guide: “Please look around and see, as we keep walking, if you find someone whose name or deeds are known to me. ”

And one who overheard me speaking Tuscan cried out somewhere behind us: “Not so fast, you there, rushing ahead through this heavy air,

perhaps from me you can obtain an answer. ” At this my guide turned toward me saying, “Stop, and wait for him, then match your pace with his. ”

I paused and saw two shades with straining faces revealing their mind’s haste to join my side, but the weight they bore and the crowded road delayed them.