Canto XXIV
 
 
 Argument
 
 
      Under the escort of his faithful master, Dante not without difficulty
 makes his way out of the sixth gulf; and in the seventh, sees the robbers
 tormented by venomous and pestilent serpents. The soul of Vanni Fucci, who had
 pillaged the sacristy of St. James in Pistoia, predicts some calamities that
 impended over that city, and over the Florentines.
 
 
 In the year's early nonage,[1] when the sun
 Tempers his tresses in Aquarius' urn,
 And now toward equal day the nights recede;
 Whenas the rime upon the earth puts on
 Her dazzling sister's image, but not long
 Her milder sway endures; then riseth up
 The village hind, whom fails his wintry store,
 And looking out beholds the plain around
 All whiten'd; whence impatiently he smites
 His thighs, and to his hut returning in,
 There paces to and fro, wailing his lot,
 As a discomfited and helpless man;
 Then comes he forth again, and feels new hope
 Spring in his bosom, finding e'en thus soon
 The world hath changed its countenance, grasps his crook,
 And forth to pasture drives his little flock:
 So me my guide dishearten'd, when I saw
 His troubled forehead; and so speedily
 That ill was cured; for at the fallen bridge
 Arriving, toward me with a look as sweet,
 He turn'd him back, as that I first beheld
 At the steep mountain's foot. Regarding well
 The ruin, and some counsel first maintain'd
 With his own thought, he opened wide his arm
 And took me up. As one, who, while he works,
 Computes his labor's issue, that he seems
 Still to foresee the effect; so lifting me
 Up to the summit of one peak, he fix'd
 His eye upon another. "Grapple that,"
 Said he, "but first make proof, if it be such
 As will sustain thee." For one capt with lead
 
 
 [1: At the latter part of January, when the sun enters Aquarius, and
 the equinox draws near, when the hoar - frosts in the morning often wear the
 appearance of snow, but are melted by the rising sun."]
 
 
 This were no journey. Scarcely he, though light,
 And I, though onward push'd from crag to crag,
 Could mount. And if the precinct of this coast
 Were not less ample than the last, for him
 I know not, but my strength had surely fail'd.
 But Malebolge all toward the mouth
 Inclining of the nethermost abyss,
 The site of every valley hence requires,
 That one side upward slope, the other fall.
 
 
 At length the point from whence the utmost stone
 Juts down, we reach'd; soon as to that arrived,
 So was the breath exhausted from my lungs
 I could no further, but did seat me there.
 
 
 "Now needs thy best of man;" so spake my guide:
 "For not on downy plumes, nor under shade
 Of canopy reposing, fame is won;
 Without which whosoe'r consumes his days,
 Leaveth such vestige of himself on earth,
 As smoke in air or foam upon the wave.
 Thou therefore rise: vanquish thy weariness
 By the mind's effort, in each struggle form'd
 To vanquish, if she suffer not the weight
 Of her corporeal frame to crush her down.
 A longer ladder yet remains to scale.
 From these to have escaped sufficeth not,
 If well thou note me, profit by my words."
 
 
 I straightway rose, and show'd myself less spent
 That I in truth did feel me. "On," I cried,
 "For I am stout and fearless." Up the rock
 Our way we held, more rugged than before,
 Narrower, and steeper far to climb. From talk
 I ceased not, as we journey'd, so to seem
 Least faint; whereat a voice from the other foss
 Did issue forth, for utterance suited ill.
 Though on the arch that crosses there I stood,
 What were the words I knew not, but who spake
 Seem'd moved in anger. Down I stoop'd to look;
 But my quick eye might reach not to the depth
 For shrouding darkness; wherefore thus I spake:
 "To the next circle, teacher, bend thy steps,
 And from the wall dismount we; for as hence
 I hear and understand not, so I see
 Beneath, and naught discern." "I answer not,"
 Said he, "but by the deed. To fair request
 Silent performance maketh best return."
 
 
 We from the bridge's head descended, where
 To the eighth mound it joins; and then, the chasm
 Opening to view, I saw a crowd within
 Of serpents terrible, so strange of shape
 And hideous, that remembrance in my veins
 Yet shrinks the vital current. Of her sands
 Let Libya vaunt no more: if Jaculus,
 Pareas and Chelyder be her brood,
 Cenchris and Amphisbaena, plagues so dire
 Or in such numbers swarming ne'er she show'd,
 Not with all Ethiopia, and whate'er
 Above the Erythraean sea is spawn'd.
 
 
 Amid this dread exuberance of woe
 Ran naked spirits wing'd with horrid fear,
 Nor hope had they of crevice where to hide,
 Or heliotrope to charm them out of view.
 With serpents were their hands behind them bound,
 Which through their reins infix'd the tail and head,
 Twisted in folds before. And lo! on one
 Near to our side, darted an adder up,
 And, where the neck is on the shoulders tied,
 Transpierced him. Far more quickly than e'er pen
 Wrote O or I, he kindled, burn'd, and changed
 To ashes all, pour'd out upon the earth.
 When there dissolved he lay, the dust again
 Uproll'd spontaneous, and the self - same form
 Instant resumed. So mighty sages tell,
 The Arabian Phoenix, when five hundred years
 Have well - nigh circled, dies, and springs forthwith
 Renascent: blade nor herb throughout his life
 He tastes, but tears of frankincense alone
 And odorous amomum: swaths of nard
 And myrrh his funeral shroud. As one that falls,
 He knows not how, by force demoniac dragg'd
 To earth, or through obstruction fettering up
 In chains invisible the powers of man,
 Who, risen from his trance, gazeth around,
 Bewilder'd with the monstrous agony
 He hath endured, and wildly staring sighs;
 So stood aghast the sinner when he rose.
 
 
 
 
 Oh! how severe God's judgment, that deals out
 Such blows in stormy vengeance. Who he was,
 My teacher next inquired; and thus in few
 He answer'd: "Vanni Fucci[2] am I call'd,
 Not long since rained down from Tuscany
 To this dire gullet. Me the bestial life
 And not the human pleased, mule that I was,
 Who in Pistoia found my worthy den."
 
 
 [2: Said to have been an illegitimate offspring of the family of
 Lazari in Pistoia, to have robbed the sacristy of the church of St. James in
 that city, and to have charged Vanni della Nona with the sacrilege; in
 consequence of which the latter suffered death.]
 
 
 I then to Virgil: "Bid him stir not hence;
 And ask what crime did thrust him thither: once
 A man I knew him, choleric and bloody."
 
 
 The sinner heard and feign'd not, but toward me
 His mind directing and his face, wherein
 Was dismal shame depictured, thus he spake:
 "It grieves me more to have been caught by thee
 In this sad plight, which thou beholdest, than
 When I was taken from the other life.
 I have no power permitted to deny
 What thou inquirest. I am doom'd thus low
 To dwell, for that the sacristy by me
 Was rifled of its goodly ornaments,
 And with the guilt another falsely charged.
 But that thou mayst not joy to see me thus,
 So as thou e'er shalt 'scape this darksome realm,
 Open thine ears and hear what I forebode.
 Reft of the Neri first Pistoia[3] pines;
 Then Florence[4] changeth citizens and laws;
 
 
 [3: "In May, 1301, the Bianchi party of Pistoia, with the help of the
 Bianchi who ruled Florence, drove out the party of the Neri from the former
 place, destroying their houses, palaces, and farms."]
 
 
 [4: "Then Florence." "Soon after the Bianchi wbll be expelled from
 Florence, the Neri will prevail, and the laws and people will be changed."]
 
 
 From Valdimagra,[5] drawn by wrathful Mars,
 A vapor rises, wrapt in turbid mists,
 And sharp and eager driveth on the storm
 With Arrowy hurtling o'er Piceno's field,
 Whence suddenly the cloud shall burst, and strike
 Each helpless Bianco prostrate to the ground.
 This have I told, that grief may rend thy heart."
 
 
 [5: Alluding to the victory obtained by the Marquis Morello Malaspina
 of Valdimagra, who put himself at the head of the Neri, and defeated their
 opponents the Bianchi, in the Campo Piceno near Pistoia, soon after the
 occurrence related in the preceding note on v. 142. Currado Malaspina is
 introduced in the eighth Canto of the Purgatory; where it appears, that
 although on the present occasion they espoused contrary sides, most important
 favors were nevertheless conferred by that family on our Poet, at a subsequent
 period of his exile, in 1307.]