Binyon's Dante

Laurence Binyon's translation of Dante's Divine Comedy.

Hover over the green Roman numerals for Charles Hall Grandgent's annotations.

The PDF version, with more assured formatting, can be found here.

Inferno

Canto XXVII

Another flame appears, and a voice from it asks for news of Romagna, and Dante tells of its condition. The name of this spirit is not given, but he is Guido da Montefeltro, a distinguished Ghibelline. He tells how he was persuaded by Pope Boniface VIII to give fraudulent counsel. The poets then pass to the next chasm.


Quieted now, the flame rose all upright,

Having no more to speak, and with the accord

Of the sweet poet was moving from our sight

When another, that came on behind it, toward

Its summit caused us to direct our eyes

Because of the wild sound that from it roared.

As the Sicilian bull, that with the cries[i]7. The brazen Sicilian bull, made for Phalaris, tyrant of Agrigentum, was so constructed that the shrieks of victims burned within it sounded like the bellowing of a real beast. Phalaris tried it first on its maker, Perillus.

Of him (and it was justice) bellowed first

Who with his file had shaped it in that guise,

Kept bellowing as the sufferer’s voice outburst, [10]

So that although it was of brass compact

The metal seemed with agony transpierced;

Thus from the fire at first, since a way lacked

For issue, the despairing words up-cast

Were changed into its language by the tract;

But after they had found their road at last

Up to the tip, imparting to the flame

The trembling the tongue gave them as they passed,

We heard it say: “O thou at whom I aim

My voice, who used’st speech of Lombardy [20]

Saying, ‘Now go, no more of thee I claim,’

Though over-tardy I have come, maybe,

Speak with me, so it not irk thee and if thou wilt:

Thou seest, although I burn, it irks not me.

If into this blind world thou art but now spilt

From that sweet Latin country whence I bore

Hither the entire burden of my guilt,

Tell me if Romagna now have peace or war;[ii]28. Romagna is the region lying between the Po, the Apennines, the Adriatic, and the Reno.

For I was of the mountains there, between

Urbino and where the springs of Tiber pour.” [30][iii]30. The county of Montefeltro lies between Urbino and the Tuscan Apennines.

Still all attentive downward did I lean,

When soft my Leader touched me on the side

Saying, “Speak thou; a Latin this has been.”

To him without ado then I replied,

Having no need my answer to prepare:

“O spirit that there enshrouded dost abide,

Not now is thy Romagna, and was not e’er,

Without war in her tyrants’ hearts; but blood

Of battle in open field I left not there.

Ravenna stands as long years it hath stood, [40]

Where covering Cervia with vans outspread[iv]41-42. Cervia, a town near Ravenna, was subject to the Polenta family, whose arms contained an eagle.

Polenta’s Eagle over it doth brood.

The city that of the French made slaughter red[v]43. “The city”: Forli, whose inhabitants, in 1282, had defeated their French besiegers with great slaughter. In 1300 it was ruled by the Ordelaffi, who had in their arms a lion with green paws.

And ere that proved its fortitude so long,

Under the Green Paws hides once more its head.

The old mastiff of Verrucchio and the young,[vi]46-47. The “old mastiff’ is Malatesta da Verrucchio, lord of Rimini; the “young mastiff” is his son Malatestino. In 1296 they defeated the Ghibelline forces of Rimini, and murdered their leader Montagna.

Who brought Montagna into such evil state,

After their wont still tear where they have clung.

Guideth Lamone’s and Santerno’s fate[vii]49. Faenza, on the Lamone, and Imola, near the Santerno, were ruled by Maghinardo da Susinana, whose banner bore a blue lion on a white field.

The young Lion of the white lair, changing side [50]

Winter and summer, with the seasons’ date.

And that city the Savio flows beside,[viii]52. “That city” is Cesena.

Even as it lies between the hill and plain,

Tyranny and freedom do its life divide.

Now who thou art declare to us, nor refrain

In hardness more than others have been hard,

So may thy name on earth its front maintain.”

When for awhile the flame had shrilled and roared

After its manner, the sharp tip it swayed

This way and that, and then this breath outpoured: [60]

“If I believed that my reply were made

To one who could revisit earth, this flame

Would be at rest, and its commotion laid.

But seeing that alive none ever came

Back from this pit, if it be truth I hear,

I answer without dread of injured fame.

I was a man of arms, then Cordelier,[ix]67. “Cordelier”: a Franciscan friar.

Hoping, so girdled, in my ways to amend;

And certainly that hope had come entire

But for the Great Priest, whom may ill attend, [70][x]70. “The Great Priest” is Pope Boniface VIII.

Who brought me back into my sins of old,

And how and why I'll have thee comprehend.

Whilst I was bones and pulp and in the mould

My mother made for me, my deeds were those

Of the sly fox, not of the lion bold.

All cunning stratagems and words that gloze

I knew, and mastered the uses of deceit

So that to earth’s end rumour of it goes.

When at the age which counselleth retreat

I saw me arrived, the which should all constrain [80]

To strike the sail and gather in the sheet,

That which before had pleased me now was pain,

And from the world a penitent I withdrew.

Ah, miserable! it should have been my gain.

The prince of the new Pharisees, who knew[xi]85. Boniface VIII was waging war at home, close to his Lateran palace, with the Colonna family, who had entrenched themselves in their stronghold of Palestrina. This city was surrendered to Boniface on false promises, and then demolished.

How to wage war beside the Lateran

And not with Saracen and not with Jew,

For each one of his foes was Christian,

And none to conquer Acre’s fort had gone[xii]89. No one of them had been a renegade to help the Saracens take Acre in 1291.

Nor trafficked in the land of the Soldan, [90]

Regarding neither the office of his throne

Nor the Holy Orders, nor in me that cord

Which used to make lean those that girt it on,

As on Soracte Constantine implored[xiii]94. Pope Sylvester I, who had taken refuge on Mt. Soracte, near Rome, was sought out, according to the legend, to cure the Emperor Constantine of leprosy; this he did by baptism.

Sylvester’s art his leprosy to heal,

So for my mastery me this man conjured

To cure his prideful fever, and made appeal

To me for counsel: and I kept me.mute,

For like a drunkard seemed his words to reel.

And then he spoke: ‘Let not thy heart misdoubt; [100]

Here I absolve thee. Now instruct me how I

May Palestrina from the earth uproot.

Heaven, as thou knowest, I have authority

To unlock and lock: for double is the key,

Which he who came before me prized not high.’[xiv]105. “He who came before me . . .”: Celestine V, who renounced the papacy.

Then that strong argument enforcing me

To think silence the worst counsel of all,

I said, ‘Since, Father, I am cleansed by thee

Of that guilt into which I now must fall,

Wouldst thou in the high seat hold triumphant head, [110]

Make large thy promise, its fulfilment small,’

Francis came afterwards, when I was dead,[xv]112-120. St. Francis of Assisi came to claim the departing spirit; but though absolved by a Pope, Guido had not genuinely repented of his last misdeed, and therefore the absolution was invalid.

To take me; and one of the Black Cherubim

Denied him: ‘Thou wilt do me wrong,’ he said.

‘Among my minions must I carry him

Because he gave the treacherous advice,

Since when by the hair I have held him, every limb.

For the unrepentant unabsolvèd dies,

Nor can a soul repent and will the sin

At once; in this a contradiction lies.’ [120]

O wretched me! How startled was I then,

When seizing me he said: “Thou thoughtest not,

May be, that I had a logician been!’

To Minos then he bore me; he straightway got

His tail eight times around his horny side

And biting on it then with anger hot,

‘To the thievish fire this sinner goes,’ he cried.

Therefore I, where thou seèst me, am borne

Lost in this swathing, and in grief abide.”

When he had ended thus his words forlorn, [130]

The flame departed sorrowing, all frayed

With struggle and tossing upward its sharp horn.

I and my Guide with me passed on, and made

Along the cliff to the other arch up-built

Over the fosse in which their fee is paid

To those who, sowing discord, harvest guilt.


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