I must now write verses of a new torment
and give substance to the twentieth canto
of this first song, which tells of the damned.
3
I was already prepared
to peer down into the exposed depths
that were bathed in tears of anguish,
and I saw people
7
Through the circular valley they came,
silent and weeping, moving at the pace
of litanies chanted in our world above.
10
As my gaze traveled down their forms,
I saw each figure strangely twisted—
from chin to the start of chest,
their faces turned backward toward their spine.
They had to walk in reverse,
their forward vision stolen forever.
16
Perhaps some violent palsy
could wrench a body so completely,
but I had never seen it, could not believe it possible.
19
Reader, as God grants you wisdom from these words,
imagine how I could keep my eyes dry
when I saw our human form
so horribly distorted before me—
their tears streaming down
to wash the crack between their buttocks.
25
I wept, leaning against a jagged peak
of the hard rock, until my guide said:
"Are you just another fool?
Here pity lives only when it is dead.
Who is more contemptible
than one who feels compassion for God's justice?
31
Lift up your head and see the one
for whom the earth split open before Theban eyes,
while all the warriors cried: 'Where are you rushing,
Amphiaraus? Why abandon the war?'
He plummeted headlong
all the way down to Minos, who seizes everyone.
Look how he has made his shoulders into a chest!
Because he tried to see too far ahead,
now he looks behind and walks backward.
40
See Tiresias, who changed his very nature
from male to female,
every limb transformed.
Later he had to strike again
those two entwined serpents with his staff
before he could regain his masculine form.
46
The one backing against the other's belly
is Aruns, who lived in Carrara's hills
where farmers work below,
dwelling in a cave among white marble
from where his view of stars and sea
remained unobstructed.
52
That figure there, covering her breasts
with loose hair flowing down—
you cannot see them—
all the hair on her body turned to that side,
was Manto, who wandered many lands
before settling where I was born.
Let me tell you her story.
59
After her father died
and Bacchus's city fell into slavery,
she roamed the world for ages.
High in beautiful Italy lies a lake
at the foot of the Alps that wall off Germany
above Tyrol—they call it Lake Garda.
65
A thousand springs and more
between Garda and Val Camonica
feed Mount Pennino
with water that pools in that lake.
At the center sits a place
where the bishops of Trento, Brescia, and Verona
could give their blessing if they passed that way.
72
Peschiera sits there, fortress beautiful and strong,
facing the Brescians and Bergamese
where the shoreline drops lowest.
All the water Lake Garda cannot hold
must overflow that spot
and become a river flowing through green meadows.
78
Once the water begins to flow
it is no longer called Garda but Mincio,
until it reaches Governo where it joins the Po.
Before long it finds a plain
where it spreads wide and turns marshy,
often breeding sickness in summer.
84
Passing that way, the pitiless virgin
saw land in the middle of the swamp,
untilled and empty of inhabitants.
There, to avoid all human contact,
she stayed with her servants to practice her arts.
She lived and died, leaving her empty body.
90
The scattered people of the region
gathered at that place, made strong
by the protective marsh on every side.
They built their city over those dead bones
and named it Mantua after her
who first chose the location—no other omen.
96
Once its population was much larger,
before Casalodi's stupidity
fell for Pinamonte's deception.
So I warn you: if you ever hear
my city's origin told differently,
let no lie defraud the truth."
102
"Master," I replied, "your words
are so certain and win my faith completely
that all other versions would be dead coals to me.
But tell me about these people passing by—
do you see anyone noteworthy?
That is what occupies my mind."
108
Then he said: "The one whose beard
spreads from his cheek across his dark shoulders
was an augur when Greece was emptied of men,
scarcely a male child left in any cradle.
With Calchas he chose the moment
at Aulis to cut the first ship's cable.
Eryphylus was his name—so my lofty Tragedy
sings in some passage or other.
You know it well, knowing the whole work.
117
The next one, so thin in the flanks,
was Michael Scott, who truly knew
the tricks of magical deceptions.
120
Look at Guido Bonatti, look at Asdente,
who now wishes he had stuck to his leather and thread
but repents too late.
123
See the wretched women who abandoned
needle, spindle, and loom to become fortune-tellers,
casting spells with herbs and wax images.
126
But come—Cain and his thorns
already straddle the boundary
of both hemispheres, and below Seville
the moon touches the ocean waves.
Last night it was already full—
you should remember it did you no harm
back in the deep forest."
133
So he spoke, and we walked on.
134