Classic Poem

CANTO XXVIII.

Argument.

Ninth valley; schismatics and sowers of discord. — Bertram de Born condemned to carry his own head as a lantern.

B UT who that history may, e'en in prose,
Narrate, and tell of every bloody wound
Which here I saw, and now would fain disclose?
In sooth, our language still too weak is found;
For human speech and memory may not hold
So vast a theme in such a narrow bound
If all the bloody corpses which, of old,
Sadly Apulia's fated land did bear,
Might rise again; the Roman legions bold,
And those who died in the long wars that were,
When of the rings so rich a spoil was brought,
As Livy writes, whose pen doth never err;
With those, sore-wounded in the battles fought
'Gainst Robert Guiscard; and the piles of slain,
Whose bones, unto this day, ye find unsought,
Anear Ceprano, where Apulia's men
Were faithless; and on Tagliacozzo's field
Where, without arms, Alard did victory gain;
And piercid some, and maim'd be some reveal'd:
Yet all shall seem as nought, when ye descry
The sorrow in this ninth abyss conceal'd.
Never, in sooth, did wine-cask meet mine eye
So broken, when a stave or hoop hath sprung,
As one, who from the chin unto the thigh
Was cleft; between his legs his bowels hung;
The heart appear'd, and each intestine foul,
Which every aliment transmutes to dung.
And while I gazed thereat with all my soul,
He look'd at me, and oped his breast, to show
Its gash, and said: " Behold me, who am all
Sore-mangled; see how Mahomet doth go.
Before me, Ali doth for ever mourn,
Cleft upwards from the chin unto the brow.
And all the rest, who dwell within this bourne,
The seeds of schism in their life did leave;
And thus by them such doleful wounds are worn.
Beyond us stands a fiend, who us doth cleave
So cruelly, and with his sharp sword-blade
Aye smites again each wretch who here must grieve,
When we once more the circuit drear have made;
Because our ghastly wounds do ever close,
Ere, in our course, before him we are stay'd.
But who art thou, who on the rocks dost muse,
As to the pain decreed thou wouldst not wend,
For sins whereof thy Judge doth thee accuse? "
" Nor Death hath met him yet, nor guilt doth send
Him to this torment; " then my Master said:
" To give him full experience of this land
I, who myself am number'd with the dead,
Must lead him downwards through each zone of Hell;
And this is truth that from my lips is shed "
More than a hundred, when they heard his tale,
Stood still to look on me; and, for amaze,
Forgot their pain. " I pray thee, do not fail,
Thou who, it may be, soon once more shalt gaze
On the warm sun, to counsel Fra Dolcin,
Provision good to make 'gainst wintry days,
Would he not quickly follow me, I ween;
Lest, favour'd by the snow, Novara's band
Should gain a victory which else had been
Not easy. " Thus did the false prophet stand,
With foot upraised in act to go, and spake;
Then pass'd away, upon the mournful strand.
Another, with pierced throat and cloven cheek,
And nose cut off, from where the brow doth rise,
And but one ear alone, now staid to seek
Some knowledge of us, gazing in surprise,
As did the rest; yet, ere the rest his throat
He oped (and, sooth, 'twas stain'd in bloody guise)
And said: " O thou who guiltless here art brought,
Whom erst in Italy mine eyes did find,
(If too much likeness doth deceive me not)
Pierre of Medecina call to mind,
When thou returnest to the pleasant plain,
From Marcabo unto Vercel inclined;
And say to the two best of Fano's men,
Unto Sir Guido and to Angiolel,
That if my powers of foresight be not vain,
Cast from the ship wherein they soon shall sail,
Death waits them near Cattolica, by guile
And treason of a cruel tyrant fell.
Between Majorca and the Cyprian isle,
Ne'er saw the ocean-god, in ancient days,
Such crime of corsair, nor Argolic wile.
The traitor who through but one eye doth gaze,
And holds the land which one who dwells with me
Most gladly ne'er had seen, in crafty ways
Will call them to discourse with him; and he
Their voy'ge will order, that they may not need
To pray for safety 'gainst the winds which be
Anear Focara. " " Tell me, " now I said,
" As thou wouldst have me speak of thee on earth,
Who is it on whose sight such grief is shed? "
Then to his neighbour he his hand stretch'd forth,
And oped the other's mouth, and thus he cried:
" Behold him; from his lips no words have birth.
For he, an exile, whelm'd beneath the tide
The doubts of Caesar; and affirm'd that aye,
When ready, danger in delay doth bide. "
Curio, what terror in thy gaze did lie,
With tongue thus wholly rooted from thy throat,
Which erst gave counsel all too daringly!
And one, with both his hands cut off, now sought
To raise the stumps amid the darksome air,
So that his face with the foul blood was fraught:
He cried: " For Mosca, too, some memory spare;
Who said, alas! " What's done is well begun;"
Which for the Tuscans such ill seed did bear. "
I added then: " And death unto each son
Of thine. " Thus pass'd he on with wilder moan,
As when fierce madness hunts some frenzied one
But still I gazed, and 'mid that band was shown
To me a thing which, if no proof made sure,
I well might fear but to recount alone;
Were it not that my conscience is secure,
That good companion who doth set us free,
Under the hauberk of a heart that's pure.
In truth I saw, and still I seem to see,
A headless body through the dismal air,
Walking amid that mournful company.
And its own head it carried by the hair,
Even as a lantern; and it gazed on us,
And said: " Oh! woe is me! " Still did it bear
Light from itself unto itself; and thus
Was ever one in two, and two in one:
But He alone who all things made, I wis,
Knows how so great a marvel may be done.
It stood beneath the bridge, and raised on high
Its arm which held the severed head; that none
Of all its words might in the distance die;
And thus it spake: " O thou with living breath,
Who journey'st where the sinful dead do lie,
Look if my sorrow any equal hath.
Bertrand de Born am I, that evil guide
Who counsell'd the young king, with words of death.
I did the father from the son divide;
Nor more Achitophel did Absolom
Stir up 'gainst David in rebellious pride.
Since thus I parted others, is my doom
Parted for aye to bear my brain, alas!
Cut from the trunk whence its first fount doth come;
Thus ye behold on me a righteous judgment pass. "