Dante Inferno Canto 22 translated by David Bruce Gain

I`ve seen knights break camp, parade or rive

The foe, or even flee to stay alive,
Scouts ride, Arretines, exploring your terrain,
Raiders, tournaments, jousters charge amain,
Bells ring, trumps blare, drums roll, fires flare on wall;
Name anything and I have seen them all,
But not any foot or knights that there are
Or ships that sail by landmark or by star
Bidden to go by bugles that so jar.
Church and the devout, inns and guzzlers suit;
So hell and ten demons. Who can confute?
My wish in this pitch hole is but to look
And see how brown those sizzling Shadows cook.
Much like the springing dolphins that are said
To warn to rig for stormy seas ahead.
Sinners would surface to relieve their pain,
Then dive lightning quick to hide again.
Like squatting frogs with just their snouts to show,
Their legs and all the rest concealed below,
When they saw Barbariccia near their ditch
They ducked straightway beneath the boiling pitch.
But yet, as happens with the froggy kind,
While others dived one (horror!) stayed behind.
Graffiacan, standing in front, took control;
Hoist by his hair, he looked just like a vole.
I know all of the fiends by name by now
Since, when they were addressed, I listened how.
"Rubicante, claws dug deep in him, cream
His skin", I heard the fiendish chorus scream.
"My master", asked I, "who is he who goes
As sacrificial victim for cruel foes?"
He: "Tell me where you`re from and who you are"
To him, and he replied: "I`m from Navarre.
My mothere`d had me by a self~killed bawd,
So she sold me for service to a lord,
Thibault; now here mid all these boiling tribes
I pay the bill earned by my lavish bribes".
Ciriatto, most like a frothing boar,
Has two tusks sticking out from either jaw;
Let him feel how just one tusk can score.
The warm warm mouse was prey of cats so cold;
But Barbariccia held him in his fold,
Shouting: "Get back, I have him in my hold".
He said (`twas to my guide his face was bent)
"If you`d know more, question him ere he`s rent".
My guide: "Do you know one whom tough tars grease,
An Italian, forced to consort with these?"
He: "Just now I saw one of them appear;
How I wish I were hidden with him here!
I would not have those hooks or claws to fear".
Libicocco cried: "Must lateness alarm?"
Then with his fork he hooked the sinner`s arm
And pulled a piece from it without a qualm.
Draghignazzo wanted a leg to tear,
Defeated by the decurion`s glare.
When their sound`s less my guide straightway asks more
Of him still gazing at his festering sore:
"Who is he whom (how fickle fortune lours!)
You left to come to these fell shores of ours?"
He: "Friar Gomita from Gallura sold
Posts and, more, gave the guilty joy for gold,
Kinglike in all his acts, quite uncontrolled.
He spends his time with Michel Zanche, lord
Of Logodoro, and they have explored
All topics Sardinia can afford.
I fear that snarler here will use his claws
To scratch me if I say more. I have yaws".
Their leader saw Farfarello`s might;
His wild eyes warned he was about to bite;
He shouted at him: "Away, cursed kite!"
"If `tis Tuscans or Lombards that you`d hear
And see", the scared soul said, "they shall appear,
But not near Malebranche, whom they fear.
I. from here. will whistle seven souls here,
As we do when we want them to appear".
Cagnazzo shook his head at this. His view:
"A trick to bring us back beneath the brew".
He: "Trickster I am; what a trick `twill be
To lure my friends into worse misery".
Alichin warned: "The rest will be gainsaid;
If you dive I won`t gallop to your aid.
We`ll skim with beating wings the tarry pen.
We`ll leave the hill, the bank our screen again,
To see if you, but one man, can beat ten".
Another game, Reader: their eyes traversed
Th` other side; he once most opposed was first.
The Navarrese chose well the time to play;
He`s poised and then, faster than one could say,
He dived and baulked the sportsmen of their prey.
Then all were stung with guilt and he who taught
The rest to play the fool was the most fraught;
He swooped off to pursue him, shouting: "Caught!"
The soul dived; the fiend`s raised breast was near;
In vain; no wings outstrip the flight of fear.
A falcon sees a duck to be despoiled;
The duck dives deftly and the falcon`s foiled.
Calcabrina flew, angered by the jape,
He too, but hoping the quarry`d escape,
So he, imputing blame, could pick a fight.
When the bribe~taker had passed out of sight
He turned upon his mate, in mind to claw
Him in mid air, hoping to rend him raw.
But th` other was as fit as he; both flew
Down, down, down, straight into the boiling brew.
Heat sundered them, yet no escape availed;
However hard they tried, their clogged wings failed.
No other`s equalled Barbariccia`s rage;
He straight sent four flying fiends to engage.
They took their assigned posts, some here, some there,
And stretched their hooks to reach the pitch~dipped pair.
They were by now well cooked within their crust,
Well cooked, and there we left them to combust.