And I: "Through midst of Tuscany there wanders

A streamlet that is born in Falterona,

And not a hundred miles of course suffice it; From thereupon do I this body bring.

To tell you who I am were speech in vain,

Because my name as yet makes no great noise."

"If well thy meaning I can penetrate

With intellect of mine," then answered me

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He who first spake, "thou speakest of the Arno." And said the other to him: "Why concealed

This one the appellation of that river,

Even as a man doth of things horrible?" And thus the shade that questioned was of this Himself acquitted: "I know not; but truly 'T is fit the name of such a valley perish; For from its fountain-head (where is so pregnant The Alpine mountain whence is cleft Peloro That in few places it that mark surpasseth) To where it yields itself in restoration

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Of what the heaven doth of the sea dry up, 35 Whence have the rivers that which goes with them, Virtue is like an enemy avoided

By all, as is a serpent, through misfortune

Of place, or through bad habit that impels them; On which account have so transformed their nature 40 The dwellers in that miserable valley,

It seems that Circe had them in her pasture. 'Mid ugly swine, of acorns worthier

Than other food for human use created,

It first directeth its impoverished way.

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Curs findeth it thereafter, coming downward,
More snarling than their puissance demands,
And turns from them disdainfully its muzzle.
It goes on falling, and the more it grows,

The more it finds the dogs becoming wolves, This maledict and misadventurous ditch. Descended then through many a hollow gulf, It finds the foxes so replete with fraud, They fear no cunning that may master them. Nor will I cease because another hears me; And well 't will be for him, if still he mind him Of what a truthful spirit to me unravels. Thy grandson I behold, who doth become A hunter of those wolves upon the bank Of the wild stream, and terrifies them all. He sells their flesh, it being yet alive;

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Thereafter slaughters them like ancient beeves ; Many of life, himself of praise, deprives. Blood-stained he issues from the dismal forest ; He leaves it such, a thousand years from now 65 In its primeval state 't is not re-wooded."

As at the announcement of impending ills

The face of him who listens is disturbed,
From whate'er side the peril seize upon him;

So I beheld that other soul, which stood

Turned round to listen, grow disturbed and sad, When it had gathered to itself the word.

The speech of one and aspect of the other

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Had me desirous made to know their names, And question mixed with prayers I made thereof, 75

Whereat the spirit which first spake to me

Began again: "Thou wishest I should bring me To do for thee what thou 'lt not do for me; But since God willeth that in thee shine forth

Such grace of his, I'll not be niggard with thee; 80 Know, then, that I Guido del Duca am. My blood was so with envy set on fire,

That if I had beheld a man make merry, [pallor. Thou wouldst have seen me sprinkled o'er with From my own sowing such the straw I reap!

O human race! why dost thou set thy heart
Where interdict of partnership must be?
This is Renier; this is the boast and honor
Of the house of Calboli, where no one since
Hath made himself the heir of his desert.
And not alone his blood is made devoid,

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'Twixt Po and mount, and sea-shore and the Reno, Of good required for truth and for diversion ; For all within these boundaries is full

Of venomous roots, so that too tardily

By cultivation now would they diminish. Where is good Lizio, and Arrigo Manardi,

Pier Traversaro, and Guido di Carpigna, O Romagnuoli into bastards turned? When in Bologna will a Fabbro rise?

When in Faenza a Bernardin di Fosco,

The noble scion of ignoble seed?
Be not astonished, Tuscan, if I weep,
When I remember, with Guido da Prata,

Ugolin d' Azzo, who was living with us,

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Frederick Tignoso and his company,

The house of Traversara, and th' Anastagi,
And one race and the other is extinct;
The dames and cavaliers, the toils and ease

That filled our souls with love and courtesy,

ΙΙΟ

There where the hearts have so malicious grown! O Brettinoro! why dost thou not flee,

Seeing that all thy family is gone,

And many people, not to be corrupted?
Bagnacaval doth well in not begetting,
And ill doth Castrocaro, and Conio worse,
In taking trouble to beget such Counts.
Will do well the Pagani, when their Devil
Shall have departed; but not therefore pure
Will testimony of them e'er remain.
O Ugolin de' Fantoli, secure

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Thy name is, since no longer is awaited One who, degenerating, can obscure it! But go now, Tuscan, for it now delights me To weep far better than it doth to speak, So much hath our discourse my mind distressed." We were aware that those beloved souls

Heard us depart; therefore, by keeping silent, They made us of our pathway confident. When we became alone by going onward,

Thunder, when it doth cleave the air, appeared A voice, that counter to us came, exclaiming : "Shall slay me whosoever findeth me!"

And fled as the reverberation dies

If suddenly the cloud asunder bursts.

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As soon as hearing had a truce from this,
Behold another, with so great a crash,
That it resembled thunderings following fast :
"I am Aglaurus, who became a stone!"

And then, to press myself close to the Poet,
I backward, and not forward, took a step.
Already on all sides the air was quiet;

And said he to me: "That was the hard curb
That ought to hold a man within his bounds;

But you
Of the old Adversary draws you to him,
And hence availeth little curb or call.

take in the bait so that the hook

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The heavens are calling you, and wheel around
Displaying to you their eternal beauties,

you,

And still your eye is looking on the ground; 150 Whence He, who all discerns, chastiseth you."

CANTO XV.

S much as 'twixt the close of the third hour

And dawn of day appeareth of that sphere Which aye in fashion of a child is playing, So much it now appeared, towards the night, Was of his course remaining to the sun; There it was evening, and 't was midnight here. And the rays smote the middle of our faces, Because by us the mount was so encircled, That straight towards the west we now were going;

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