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His mouth uplifted from his grim repast
, wiping it upon the hair
Of the same head that he behind had wasted.
Then he began: "Thou wilt that I renew
The desperate grief, which wrings my heart
To think of only, ere I speak of it;
But if my words be seed that may bear fruit
Of infamy to the Traitor
whom I gnaw,
Speaking and weep
thou see together.
I know not who thou art, nor by what mode
Thou hast come down here; but a Florentine
Thou seemest to me truly, when I hear thee.
Thou hast to know I was Count Ugolino
And this one was Ruggieri the Archbishop
Now I will tell thee why I am such a neighbour
That, by effect of his malicious thoughts
Trusting in him I was made prison
And after put to death
, I need not say;
But ne'ertheless what thou canst not have heard,
That is to say, how cruel was my death
thou, and shalt
know if he has wronged me.
perforation in the mew,
Which bears because of me the title of Famine
And in which others still must be locked up,
Had shown me through its opening many moons
Already, when I dreamed the evil
Which of the future rent for me the veil.
This one appeared to me as lord
Hunting the wolf and whelps upon the mountain
For which the Pisa
ns cannot Lucca see.
With sleuth-hounds gaunt, and eager, and well trained
Gualandi with Sismondi
He had sent out before him to the front.
After brief course seemed unto me forespent
and the son
s, and with sharp tushes
It seemed to me I saw their flanks ripped open.
When I before the morrow was awake
Moaning amid their sleep I heard my son
Who with me were, and asking after bread.
Cruel indeed art
thou, if yet thou grieve not,
Thinking of what my heart
'st thou not, what art
thou wont to weep
They were awake
now, and the hour drew nigh
At which our food used to be brought to us,
And through his dream was each one apprehensive
And I heard locking up the under door
Of the horrible
tower; whereat without a word
I gazed into the faces of my son
I wept not, I within so turned to stone
They wept; and darling little Anselm
Said: 'Thou dost gaze so, father
, what doth ail thee?'
Still not a tear I shed, nor answer made
All of that day, nor yet the night thereafter,
Until another sun rose on the world.
As now a little glimmer
made its way
Into the dolorous prison
, and I saw
Upon four faces my own very aspect,
Both of my hands in agony
And, thinking that I did it from desire
Of eating, on a sudden
And said they: 'Father
, much less pain
'twill give us
If thou do eat of us; thyself didst clothe
With this poor flesh
, and do thou strip it off.'
I calmed me then, not to make them more sad.
That day we all were silent, and the next.
Ah! obdurate earth
, wherefore didst thou not open?
When we had come unto the fourth day, Gaddo
Threw himself down outstretched before my feet,
Saying, 'My father
, why dost thou not help me?'
And there he died
; and, as thou seest me,
I saw the three fall, one by one, between
The fifth day and the sixth; whence I betook me,
, to groping
And three days called them after they were dead
Then hunger did what sorrow
could not do."
When he had said this, with his eyes distorted,
The wretched skull
resumed he with his teeth,
Which, as a dog's, upon the bone were strong.
, thou opprobrium
of the people
Of the fair
land there where the 'Si' doth sound,
slow to punish thee thy neighbour
Let the Capraia
And make a hedge across the mouth of Arno
That every person
in thee it may drown!
For if Count Ugolino
had the fame
Of having in thy castles thee betrayed,
Thou shouldst not on such cross have put his son
Guiltless of any crime
, thou modern Thebes
Their youth made Uguccione
And the other two my song
doth name above!
We passed still farther onward, where the ice
Another people ruggedly enswathes,
Not downward turned, but all of them reversed.
itself there does not let them weep
And grief that finds a barrier in the eyes
Turns itself inward to increase the anguish
Because the earliest tears a cluster form,
And, in the manner of a crystal
Fill all the cup beneath the eyebrow
that, as in a callus
Because of cold all sensibility
Its station had abandoned in my face,
Still it appeared to me I felt some wind;
Whence I: "My Master
, who sets this in motion?
Is not below here every vapour quenched?"
Whence he to me: "Full soon shalt
thou be where
Thine eye shall answer make to thee of this,
Seeing the cause which rain
eth down the blast."
And one of the wretches of the frozen
Cried out to us: "O Soul
s so merciless
That the last post is given unto you,
Lift from mine eyes the rigid veils, that I
May vent the sorrow
which impregns my heart
A little, e'er the weep
Whence I to him: "If thou wouldst have me help thee
Say who thou wast; and if I free thee not,
May I go to the bottom of the ice
Then he replied: "I am Friar Alberigo
He am I of the fruit
of the bad garden
Who here a date
am getting for my fig
"O," said I to him, "now art
thou, too, dead?"
And he to me: "How may my body
Up in the world, no knowledge I possess.
Such an advantage has this Ptolomaea
That oftentimes the Soul
Sooner than Atropos
in motion sets it.
And, that thou mayest more willingly remove
From off my countenance
these glassy tears,
Know that as soon as any Soul
As I have done, his body
by a demon
Is taken from him, who thereafter rules it,
Until his time has wholly been revolved.
Itself down rushes into such a cistern
And still perchance
above appears the body
Of yonder shade, that winter
s here behind me.
This thou shouldst know, if thou hast just come down;
It is Ser Branca d' Oria
, and many years
Have passed away since
he was thus locked up."
"I think," said I to him, "thou dost deceive me;
For Branca d' Oria
is not dead as yet,
, and drinks
, and sleeps
, and puts on clothes
above," said he, "of Malebranche
There where is boiling the tenacious pitch,
As yet had Michel Zanche
When this one left a devil
in his stead
In his own body
and one near of kin,
Who made together with him the betrayal.
But hitherward stretch out thy hand forthwith,
Open mine eyes;"--and open them I did not,
And to be rude to him was courtesy.
! ye men at variance
With every Virtue
, full of every vice
Wherefore are ye not scattered from the world?
For with the vilest Spirit
I found of you one such, who for his deeds
already in Cocytus
And still above in body
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