Harvard Classics Volume 20. Golden Deer Classics

to Cattolica, through perfidy

      Of a fell tyrant. ’Twixt the Cyprian isle

      And Balearic, ne’er hath Neptune seen

      An injury so foul, by pirates done,

      Or Argive crew of old. That one-eyed traitor

      (Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain

      His eye had still lack’d sight of) them shall bring

      To conference with him, then so shape his end

      That they shall need not ’gainst Focara’s wind^[200]

      Offer up vow nor prayer.” I answering thus:

      “Declare, as thou dost wish that I above

      May carry tidings of thee, who is he,

      In whom that sight doth wake such sad remembrance.”

      Forthwith he laid his hand on the cheek-bone

      Of one, his fellow-spirit, and his jaws

      Expanding, cried: “Lo! this is he I wot of:

      He speaks not for himself: the outcast this,

      Who overwhelm’d the doubt in Cæsar’s mind,^[201]

      Affirming that delay to men prepared

      Was ever harmful.” Oh! how terrified

      Methought was Curio, from whose throat was cut

      The tongue, which spake that hardy word. Then one,

      Maim’d of each hand, uplifted in the gloom

      The bleeding stumps, that they with gory spots

      Sullied his face, and cried: “Remember thee

      Of Mosca^[202] too; I who, alas! exclaim’d,

      ‘The deed once done, there is an end,’ that proved

      A seed of sorrow to the Tuscan race.”

      I added: “Ay, and death to thine own tribe.”

      Whence, heaping woe on woe, he hurried off,

      As one grief-stung to madness. But I there

      Still linger’d to behold the troop, and saw

      Thing, such as I may fear without more proof

      To tell of, but that conscience makes me firm,

      The boon companion, who her strong breastplate

      Buckles on him, that feels no guilt within,

      And bids him on and fear not. Without doubt

      I saw, and yet it seems to pass before me,

      A headless trunk, that even as the rest

      Of the sad flock paced onward. By the hair

      It bore the sever’d member, lantern-wise

      Pendent in hand, which look’d at us, and said,

      “Woe’s me!” The spirit lighted thus himself;

      And two there were in one, and one in two.

      How that may be, he knows who ordereth so.

      When at the bridge’s foot direct he stood,

      His arm aloft he rear’d, thrusting the head

      Full in our view, that nearer we might hear

      The words, which thus it utter’d: “Now behold

      This grievous torment, thou, who breathing go’st

      To spy the dead: behold, if any else

      Be terrible as this. And, that on earth

      Thou mayst bear tidings of me, know that I

      Am Bertrand,^[203] he of Born, who gave King John

      The counsel mischievous. Father and son

      I set at mutual war. For Absalom

      And David more did not Ahitophel,

      Spurring them on maliciously to strife.

      For parting those so closely knit, my brain

      Parted, alas! I carry from its source,

      That in this trunk inhabits. Thus the law

      Of retribution fiercely works in me.”