The Divine Comedy by Dante: The Vision of Hell, Or The Inferno: Canto XXX

What time resentment burn'd in Juno's breast     For Semele against the Theban blood,     As more than once in dire mischance was rued,     Such fatal frenzy seiz'd on Athamas,     That he his spouse beholding with a babe     Laden on either arm, "Spread out," he cried,     "The meshes, that I take the lioness     And the young lions at the pass:" then forth     Stretch'd he his merciless talons, grasping one,     One helpless innocent, Learchus nam'd,     Whom swinging down he dash'd upon a rock,     And with her other burden self-destroy'd     The hapless mother plung'd: and when the pride     Of all-presuming Troy fell from its height,     By fortune overwhelm'd, and the old king     With his realm perish'd, then did Hecuba,     A wretch forlorn and captive, when she saw     Polyxena first slaughter'd, and her son,     Her Polydorus, on the wild sea-beach     Next met the mourner's view, then reft of sense     Did she run barking even as a dog;     Such mighty power had grief to wrench her soul.     Bet ne'er the Furies or of Thebes or Troy     With such fell cruelty were seen, their goads     Infixing in the limbs of man or beast,     As now two pale and naked ghost I saw     That gnarling wildly scamper'd, like the swine     Excluded from his stye. One reach'd Capocchio,     And in the neck-joint sticking deep his fangs,     Dragg'd him, that o'er the solid pavement rubb'd     His belly stretch'd out prone. The other shape,     He of Arezzo, there left trembling, spake;     "That sprite of air is Schicchi; in like mood     Of random mischief vent he still his spite."     To whom I answ'ring: "Oh! as thou dost hope,     The other may not flesh its jaws on thee,     Be patient to inform us, who it is,     Ere it speed hence."--"That is the ancient soul     Of wretched Myrrha," he replied, "who burn'd     With most unholy flame for her own sire,     "And a false shape assuming, so perform'd     The deed of sin; e'en as the other there,     That onward passes, dar'd to counterfeit     Donati's features, to feign'd testament     The seal affixing, that himself might gain,     For his own share, the lady of the herd."     When vanish'd the two furious shades, on whom     Mine eye was held, I turn'd it back to view     The other cursed spirits. One I saw     In fashion like a lute, had but the groin     Been sever'd, where it meets the forked part.     Swoln dropsy, disproportioning the limbs     With ill-converted moisture, that the paunch     Suits not the visage, open'd wide his lips     Gasping as in the hectic man for drought,     One towards the chin, the other upward curl'd.     "O ye, who in this world of misery,     Wherefore I know not, are exempt from pain,"     Thus he began, "attentively regard     Adamo's woe. When living, full supply     Ne'er lack'd me of what most I coveted;     One drop of water now, alas! I crave.     The rills, that glitter down the grassy slopes     Of Casentino, making fresh and soft     The banks whereby they glide to Arno's stream,     Stand ever in my view; and not in vain;     For more the pictur'd semblance dries me up,     Much more than the disease, which makes the flesh     Desert these shrivel'd cheeks. So from the place,     Where I transgress'd, stern justice urging me,     Takes means to quicken more my lab'ring sighs.     There is Romena, where I falsified     The metal with the Baptist's form imprest,     For which on earth I left my body burnt.     But if I here might see the sorrowing soul     Of Guido, Alessandro, or their brother,     For Branda's limpid spring I would not change     The welcome sight. One is e'en now within,     If truly the mad spirits tell, that round     Are wand'ring. But wherein besteads me that?     My limbs are fetter'd. Were I but so light,     That I each hundred years might move one inch,     I had set forth already on this path,     Seeking him out amidst the shapeless crew,     Although eleven miles it wind, not more     Than half of one across. They brought me down     Among this tribe; induc'd by them I stamp'd     The florens with three carats of alloy."     "Who are that abject pair," I next inquir'd,     "That closely bounding thee upon thy right     Lie smoking, like a band in winter steep'd     In the chill stream?"--"When to this gulf I dropt,"     He answer'd, "here I found them; since that hour     They have not turn'd, nor ever shall, I ween,     Till time hath run his course. One is that dame     The false accuser of the Hebrew youth;     Sinon the other, that false Greek from Troy.     Sharp fever drains the reeky moistness out,     In such a cloud upsteam'd." When that he heard,     One, gall'd perchance to be so darkly nam'd,     With clench'd hand smote him on the braced paunch,     That like a drum resounded: but forthwith     Adamo smote him on the face, the blow     Returning with his arm, that seem'd as hard.     "Though my o'erweighty limbs have ta'en from me     The power to move," said he, "I have an arm     At liberty for such employ." To whom     Was answer'd: "When thou wentest to the fire,     Thou hadst it not so ready at command,     Then readier when it coin'd th' impostor gold."     And thus the dropsied: "Ay, now speak'st thou true.     But there thou gav'st not such true testimony,     When thou wast question'd of the truth, at Troy."     "If I spake false, thou falsely stamp'dst the coin,"     Said Sinon; "I am here but for one fault,     And thou for more than any imp beside."     "Remember," he replied, "O perjur'd one,     The horse remember, that did teem with death,     And all the world be witness to thy guilt."     "To thine," return'd the Greek, "witness the thirst     Whence thy tongue cracks, witness the fluid mound,     Rear'd by thy belly up before thine eyes,     A mass corrupt." To whom the coiner thus:     "Thy mouth gapes wide as ever to let pass     Its evil saying. Me if thirst assails,     Yet I am stuff'd with moisture. Thou art parch'd,     Pains rack thy head, no urging would'st thou need     To make thee lap Narcissus' mirror up."     I was all fix'd to listen, when my guide     Admonish'd: "Now beware: a little more.     And I do quarrel with thee." I perceiv'd     How angrily he spake, and towards him turn'd     With shame so poignant, as remember'd yet     Confounds me. As a man that dreams of harm     Befall'n him, dreaming wishes it a dream,     And that which is, desires as if it were not,     Such then was I, who wanting power to speak     Wish'd to excuse myself, and all the while     Excus'd me, though unweeting that I did.     "More grievous fault than thine has been, less shame,"     My master cried, "might expiate. Therefore cast     All sorrow from thy soul; and if again     Chance bring thee, where like conference is held,     Think I am ever at thy side. To hear     Such wrangling is a joy for vulgar minds."