Two souls were speaking of me, leaning close together on my right,
their faces turned upward to address me directly.
2
"One travels around our mountain while still alive,
before Death has given him wings to fly,
opening and closing his eyes at will?"
5
"I don't know who he is, but he's not alone.
You're closer—ask him yourself,
but speak gently so he'll answer."
8
Then one spirit said to me:
"Soul still bound within your body,
moving toward heaven—comfort us with charity.
Tell us where you come from and who you are,
for you make us marvel at this grace of yours
as we would at something never seen before."
14
I answered: "Through the heart of Tuscany
flows a stream born in the Falterona mountains—
a hundred miles cannot contain its course.
I bring this body from along its banks.
To tell you who I am would be pointless,
since my name makes little noise in the world."
20
The first speaker replied:
"If I understand your meaning correctly,
you speak of the Arno River."
23
The other asked: "Why did he hide
the name of that river
like something horrible to speak?"
26
The questioned shade answered:
"I don't know, but truly
the name of such a valley deserves to perish.
From its source in the Alps—where that mountain range
splits off Peloro in Sicily
and surpasses it in few places—
down to where it surrenders itself
to restore what heaven draws up from the sea,
giving rivers their flow,
35
virtue is avoided like an enemy by everyone,
fled from like a serpent,
either through the cursed nature of the place
or through evil customs that drive them.
39
The inhabitants of that wretched valley
have so transformed their nature
it's as if Circe had them in her pasture.
42
The river first directs its meager flow
among filthy swine, more worthy of acorns
than food made for human consumption.
45
Then, flowing downward, it finds curs—
more snarling than their strength warrants—
and turns its snout away in scorn.
48
The more it falls and grows,
the more it finds dogs becoming wolves
in this cursed and ill-fated ditch.
51
Descending through deep ravines,
it discovers foxes so full of fraud
they fear no cunning that might trap them.
54
I won't stop speaking because another hears—
it will serve him well to remember
what a truthful spirit reveals to me.
57
I see your descendant becoming
a hunter of those wolves along the banks
of that savage stream, terrorizing them all.
60
He sells their flesh while they still live,
then slaughters them like old cattle.
Many he robs of life, himself of honor.
63
Blood-stained, he emerges from the dark forest,
leaving it so ravaged that a thousand years
won't restore its original state."
66
Like a face disturbed by news of coming disaster,
no matter from which direction peril strikes,
so I watched that other soul grow troubled and sad
as it absorbed these words.
70
The speech of one and the expression of the other
made me eager to know their names,
and I mixed my questions with prayers.
73
The spirit who first spoke began again:
"You want me to do for you
what you won't do for me.
But since God wills his grace to shine in you,
I won't be stingy with my answer.
78
Know that I am Guido del Duca.
My blood burned so hot with envy
that seeing any man happy
would have turned me pale with rage.
From my own sowing I reap this straw.
83
O human race! Why do you set your hearts
on things that must exclude all partnership?
85
This is Renier, the glory and honor
of the house of Calboli,
where no one since has proven worthy heir.
Not only his bloodline has been stripped
of the virtue needed for truth and joy
between the Po, the mountains, sea, and Reno—
all within these borders teems
with poisonous roots that cultivation
could now barely diminish.
94
Where is good Lizio? Arrigo Manardi?
Pier Traversaro? Guido di Carpigna?
O people of Romagna, turned to bastards!
97
When will Bologna see another Fabbro rise?
When will Faenza see a Bernardin di Fosco,
that noble shoot from humble stock?
100
Don't be surprised, Tuscan, if I weep
remembering Guido da Prata,
Ugolin d'Azzo who lived among us,
Frederick Tignoso and his companions,
the house of Traversara and the Anastagi—
both families now extinct.
106
The ladies and knights, the struggles and leisure
that filled our hearts with love and courtesy,
there where hearts have grown so vicious.
109
O Brettinoro! Why don't you disappear,
since your family has fled
and many others, to avoid corruption?
112
Bagnacaval does well in having no heirs,
Castrocaro does badly, and Conio worse
in bothering to breed such counts.
115
The Pagani will do well when their devil departs,
though their name will never
be remembered as pure.
118
O Ugolin de' Fantolin, your name is safe
since no one remains who might
disgrace it through decline.
121
But go now, Tuscan—I'd rather
weep than speak,
our conversation has wrung my heart dry."
124
We knew those beloved souls
heard us leaving, and their silence
gave us confidence in our path.
127
Walking alone, we suddenly heard
a voice crash against us like thunder
splitting the air: "Everyone who finds me will kill me!"
It fled like the echo fading
when a cloud bursts apart.
132
Before our hearing recovered,
another voice shattered the air
with thunderclaps following fast:
"I am Aglauros, turned to stone!"
136
I stepped backward toward my guide,
not forward, pressing close.
138
When the air grew quiet on all sides,
he said to me: "That was the hard bridle
meant to keep humans within bounds.
But you take the bait so eagerly
the old Enemy's hook drags you down,
and bridle and call do little good.
144
Heaven calls to you, wheeling around you,
displaying its eternal beauty,
yet your eyes still stare at the ground.
For this, the One who sees all strikes you down."
148