"Other response," he said, "I make thee not, Except the doing; for the modest asking Ought to be followed by the deed in silence."
We from the bridge descended at its head, Where it connects itself with the eighth bank, And then was manifest to me the Bolgia;
And I beheld therein a terrible throng Of serpents, and of such a monstrous kind, That the remembrance still congeals my blood Let Libya boast no longer with her sand;
For if Chelydri, Jaculi, and Phareae She breeds, with Cenchri and with Amphisbaena, Neither so many plagues nor so malignant E'er showed she with all Ethiopia, Nor with whatever on the Red Sea is!
Among this cruel and most dismal throng People were running naked and affrighted.
Without the hope of hole or heliotrope.
They had their hands with serpents bound behind them;
These riveted upon their reins the tail And head, and were in front of them entwined.
And lo! at one who was upon our side There darted forth a serpent, which transfixed him There where the neck is knotted to the shoulders.
Nor 'O' so quickly e'er, nor 'I' was written, As he took fire, and burned; and ashes wholly Behoved it that in falling he became.
And when he on the ground was thus destroyed, The ashes drew together, and of themselves Into himself they instantly returned.
Even thus by the great sages 'tis confessed The phoenix dies, and then is born again, When it approaches its five-hundredth year;
On herb or grain it feeds not in its life, But only on tears of incense and amomum, And nard and myrrh are its last winding-sheet.
And as he is who falls, and knows not how, By force of demons who to earth down drag him, Or other oppilation that binds man, When he arises and around him looks, Wholly bewildered by the mighty anguish Which he has suffered, and in looking sighs;
Such was that sinner after he had risen.
Justice of God! O how severe it is, That blows like these in vengeance poureth down!
The Guide thereafter asked him who he was;
Whence he replied: "I rained from Tuscany A short time since into this cruel gorge.
A bestial life, and not a human, pleased me, Even as the mule I was; I'm Vanni Fucci, Beast, and Pistoia was my worthy den."
And I unto the Guide: "Tell him to stir not, And ask what crime has thrust him here below, For once a man of blood and wrath I saw him."
And the sinner, who had heard, dissembled not, But unto me directed mind and face, And with a melancholy shame was painted.
Then said: "It pains me more that thou hast caught me Amid this misery where thou seest me, Than when I from the other life was taken.
What thou demandest I cannot deny;
So low am I put down because I robbed The sacristy of the fair ornaments, And falsely once 'twas laid upon another;
But that thou mayst not such a sight enjoy, If thou shalt e'er be out of the dark places, Thine ears to my announcement ope and hear:
Pistoia first of Neri groweth meagre;
Then Florence doth renew her men and manners;
Mars draws a vapour up from Val di Magra, Which is with turbid clouds enveloped round, And with impetuous and bitter tempest Over Campo Picen shall be the battle;
When it shall suddenly rend the mist asunder, So that each Bianco shall thereby be smitten.
And this I've said that it may give thee pain."
