Inferno Canto 33
Canto Xxxiii
Argument
The Poet is told by Count Ugolino de' Gherardeschi of the cruel manner in which he and his children were famished in the tower at Pisa, by command of the Archbishop Ruggieri. He next discourses of the third round, called Ptolomea, wherein those are punished who have betrayed others under the semblance of kindness; and among these he finds the Friar Alberigo de'
Manfredi, who tells him of one whose soul was already tormented in that place, though his body appeared still to be alive upon the earth, being yielded up to the governance of a fiend.
His jaws uplifting form their fell repast, That sinner wiped them on the hairs o' the head, Which he behind had mangled, then began:
"Thy will obeying, I call up afresh Sorrow past cure; which, but to think of, wrings My heart, or ere I tell on 't. But if words, That I may utter, shall prove seed to bear Fruit of eternal infamy to him, The traitor whom I gnaw at, thou at once Shalt see me speak and weep. Who thou mayst be I know not, nor how here below art come: But Florentine thou seemest of a truth, When I do hear thee. Know, I was on earth Count Ugolino, and the Archbishop he
[1: "Count Ugolino." - "In the year 1288, in the month of July, Pisa was much divided by competitors for the sovereignty; one party, composed of certain of the Guelfi, being headed by the Judge Nino di Gallura de' Visconti;
another, consisting of others of the same faction, by the Count Ugolino de'
Gherardeschi; and a third by the Archbishop Ruggieri degli Ubaldini, with the Lanfranchi, Sismondi, Gualandi, and other Ghibelline houses. The Count Ugolino, to effect his purpose, united with the archbishop and his party, and having betrayed Nino, his sister's son, they contrived that he and his followers should either be driven out of Pisa, or their persons seized. Nino hearing this, and not seeing any means of defending himself, retired to Calci, his castle, and formed an alliance with the Florentines and the people of Lucca, against the Pisans. The count, before Nino was gone, in order to cover his treachery, when everything was settled for his expulsion, quitted Pisa, and repaired to a manor of his called Settimo; whence, as soon as he was informed of Nino's departure, he returned to Pisa with great rejoicing and festivity, and was elevated to the supreme power with every demonstration of triumph and honor. But his greatness was not of long continuance. It pleased the Almighty that a total reverse of fortune should ensue, as a punishment for his acts of treachery and guilt; for he was said to have poisoned the Count Anselmo da Capraia, his sister's son, on account of the envy and fear excited in his mind by the highs' esteem in which the gracious manners of Anselmo were held by the Pisans. The power of the Guelfi being so much diminished, the archbishop devised means to betray the Count Ugolino, and caused him to be suddenly attacked in his palace by the fury of the people, whom he had exasperated, by telling them that Ugolino had betrayed Pisa, and given up their castles to the citizens of Florence and of Lucca. He was immediately compelled to surrender; his bastard son and his grandson fell in the assault;
and two of his sons, with their two sons also, were conveyed to prison....
In the following March, the Pisans, who had imprisoned the Count Ugolino, with two of his sons and two of his grandchildren, the offspring of his son the Count Guelfo, in a tower on the Piazza of the Anziani, caused the tower to be locked, the key thrown into the Arno, and all food to be withheld from them.
In a few days they died of hunger; but the Count first with loud cries declared his penitence, and yet neither priest nor friar was allowed to shrive him. All the five, when dead, were dragged out of the prison, and meanly interred; and from thenceforward the tower was called the Tower of Famine, and so shall ever be." G. Villani, lib. vii.]
Ruggieri. Why I neighbor him so close, Now list. That through effect of his ill thoughts In him my trust reposing, I was ta'en And after murder'd, need is not I tell.
What therefore thou canst not have heard, that is, How cruel was the murder, shalt thou hear, And know if he have wrong'd me. A small grate Within that mew, which for my sake the name Of Famine bears, where others yet must pine, Already through its opening several moons Had shown me, when I slept the evil sleep That from the future tore the curtain off.
This one, methought, as master of the sport, Rode forth to chase the gaunt wolf, and his whelps, Unto the mountain which forbids the sight Of Lucca to the Pisan. With lean brachs Inquisitive and keen, before him ranged
[2: The mountain S. Giuliano between Pisa and Lucca.]
Lanfranchi with Sismondi and Gualandi.
After short course the father and the sons Seem'd tired and lagging, and methought I saw The sharp tusks gore their sides. When I awoke, Before the dawn, amid their sleep I heard My sons (for they were with me) weep and ask For bread. Right cruel art thou, if no pang Thou feel at thinking what my heart foretold;
And if not now, why use thy tears to flow?
Now had they waken'd; and the hour drew near When they were wont to bring us food; the mind Of each misgave him through his dream, and I Heard, at its outlet underneath, lock'd up The horrible tower: whence, uttering not a word, I look'd upon the visage of my sons.
I wept not: so all stone I felt within.
They wept: and one, my little Anselmo, cried,
'Thou lookest so! Father, what ails thee?' Yet I shed no tear, nor answer'd all that day Nor the next night, until another sun Came out upon the world. When a faint beam Had to our doleful prison made its way, And in four countenances I described The image of my own, on either hand Through agony I bit; and they, who thought I did it through desire of feeding, rose O' the sudden, and cried, 'Father, we should grieve Far less if thou wouldst eat of us: thou gavest These weeds of miserable flesh we wear;
And do thou strip them off from us again.'
Then, not to make them sadder, I kept down My spirit in stillness. That day and the next We all were silent. Ah, obdurate earth!
Why open'dst not upon us? When we came To the fourth day, then Gaddo at my feet Outstretch'd did fling him, crying, 'Hast no help For me, my father!' There he died; and e'en Plainly as thou seest me, saw I the three Fall one by one 'twixt the fifth day and sixth: Whence I betook me, now grown blind, to grope Over them all, and for three days aloud Call'd on them who were dead. Then, fasting got The mastery of grief." Thus having spoke, Once more upon the wretched skull his teeth He fasten'd like a mastiff's 'gainst the bone, Firm and unyielding. O thou Pisa! shame Of all the people, who their dwelling make In that fair region, where the Italian voice Is heard; since that thy neighbors are so slack To punish, from their deep foundations rise Capraia and Gorgona, and dam up The mouth of Arno; that each soul in thee May perish in the waters. What if fame Reported that thy castles were betray'd By Ugolino, yet no right hadst thou To stretch his children on the rack. For them, Brigata, Uguccione, and the pair Of gentle ones, of whom my song hath told, Their tender years, thou modern Thebes, did make Uncapable of guilt. Onward we pass'd, Where others, skarf'd in rugged folds of ice, Not on their feet were turn'd, but each reversed.
[3: Small islands, near the mouth of the Arno.]
There, very weeping suffers not to weep;
For, at their eyes, grief, seeking passage, finds Impediment, and rolling inward turns For increase of sharp anguish: the first tears Hang cluster'd, and like crystal vizors show, Under the socket brimming all the cup.
Now though the cold had from my face dislodged each feeling, as 't were callous, yet me seem'd Some breath of wind I felt. "Whence cometh this,"
Said I, "my Master? Is not here below All vapor quench'd?" - "Thou shalt be speedily,"
He answer'd, "where thine eyes shall tell thee whence, The cause descrying of this airy shower."
Then cried out one, in the chill crust who mourn'd:
"O souls! so cruel, that the farthest post Hath been assign'd you, from this face remove The harden'd veil; that I may vent the grief Impregnate at my heart, some little space,
Ere it congeal again." I thus replied:
"Say who thou wast, if thou wouldst have mine aid;
And if I extricate thee not, far down As to the lowest ice may I descend."
"The friar Alberigo," answer'd he,
"Am I, who from the evil garden pluck'd Its fruitage, and am here repaid, the date More luscious for my fig." - "Hah!" I exclaim'd,
"Art thou, too, dead? How in the world aloft It fareth with my body," answer'd he,
"I am right ignorant. Such privilege Hath Ptolomea, that oft - times the soul Drops hither, ere by Atropos divorced.
And that thou mayst wipe out more willingly The glazed tear - drops that o'erlay mine eyes, Know that the soul, that moment she betrays, As I did, yields her body to a fiend Who after moves and governs it at will, Till all its time be rounded: headlong she Falls to this cistern. And perchance above Doth yet appear the body of a ghost, Who here behind me winters. Him thou know'st, If thou but newly art arrived below.
The years are many that have passed away, Since to this fastness Branca Doria came."
[4: The friar Alberigo," Alberigo de' Manfredi, of Faenza, one of the Frati Godenti (Joyous Friars), who having quarrelled with some of his brotherhood, under pretence of wishing to be reconciled, invited them to a banquet, at the conclusion of which he called for the fruit, a signal for the assassins to rush in and despatch those whom he had marked for destruction.
Hence, adds Landino, it is said proverbially of one who has been stabbed, that he had had some of the friar Alberigo's fruit.]
[5: \"Ptolomea." This circle is named Ptolomea from Ptolemy the son of Abubus, by whom Simon and his sons were murdered, at a great banquet he had made for them. See I Maccabees, ch. xvi. Or from Ptolemy, King of Egypt, the betrayer of Pompey the Great.]
[6: \"Branca Doria." The family of Doria was possessed of great influence in Genoa. Branca is said to have murdered his father - in - law, Michel Zanche. See Canto xxii.]
"Now," answer'd I, "methinks thou mockest me;
For Branca Doria never yet hath died, But doth all natural functions of a man, Eats, drinks, and sleeps, and putteth raiment on."
He thus: "Not yet unto that upper foss By th' evil talons guarded, where the pitch Tenacious boils, had Michel Zanche reach'd, When this one left a demon in his stead In his own body, and of one his kin, Who with him treachery wrought. But now put forth Thy hand, and ope mine eyes." I oped them not.
Ill manners were best courtesy to him.
Ah Genoese! men perverse in every way With every foulness stain'd why from the earth Are ye not cancel'd? Such an one of yours I with Romagna's darkest spirit found, As, for his doings, even now in soul Is in Cocytus plunged, and yet doth seem In body still alive upon the earth.
[7: The friar Alberigo.]
Argument
The Poet is told by Count Ugolino de' Gherardeschi of the cruel manner in which he and his children were famished in the tower at Pisa, by command of the Archbishop Ruggieri. He next discourses of the third round, called Ptolomea, wherein those are punished who have betrayed others under the semblance of kindness; and among these he finds the Friar Alberigo de'
Manfredi, who tells him of one whose soul was already tormented in that place, though his body appeared still to be alive upon the earth, being yielded up to the governance of a fiend.
His jaws uplifting form their fell repast, That sinner wiped them on the hairs o' the head, Which he behind had mangled, then began:
"Thy will obeying, I call up afresh Sorrow past cure; which, but to think of, wrings My heart, or ere I tell on 't. But if words, That I may utter, shall prove seed to bear Fruit of eternal infamy to him, The traitor whom I gnaw at, thou at once Shalt see me speak and weep. Who thou mayst be I know not, nor how here below art come: But Florentine thou seemest of a truth, When I do hear thee. Know, I was on earth Count Ugolino, and the Archbishop he
[1: "Count Ugolino." - "In the year 1288, in the month of July, Pisa was much divided by competitors for the sovereignty; one party, composed of certain of the Guelfi, being headed by the Judge Nino di Gallura de' Visconti;
another, consisting of others of the same faction, by the Count Ugolino de'
Gherardeschi; and a third by the Archbishop Ruggieri degli Ubaldini, with the Lanfranchi, Sismondi, Gualandi, and other Ghibelline houses. The Count Ugolino, to effect his purpose, united with the archbishop and his party, and having betrayed Nino, his sister's son, they contrived that he and his followers should either be driven out of Pisa, or their persons seized. Nino hearing this, and not seeing any means of defending himself, retired to Calci, his castle, and formed an alliance with the Florentines and the people of Lucca, against the Pisans. The count, before Nino was gone, in order to cover his treachery, when everything was settled for his expulsion, quitted Pisa, and repaired to a manor of his called Settimo; whence, as soon as he was informed of Nino's departure, he returned to Pisa with great rejoicing and festivity, and was elevated to the supreme power with every demonstration of triumph and honor. But his greatness was not of long continuance. It pleased the Almighty that a total reverse of fortune should ensue, as a punishment for his acts of treachery and guilt; for he was said to have poisoned the Count Anselmo da Capraia, his sister's son, on account of the envy and fear excited in his mind by the highs' esteem in which the gracious manners of Anselmo were held by the Pisans. The power of the Guelfi being so much diminished, the archbishop devised means to betray the Count Ugolino, and caused him to be suddenly attacked in his palace by the fury of the people, whom he had exasperated, by telling them that Ugolino had betrayed Pisa, and given up their castles to the citizens of Florence and of Lucca. He was immediately compelled to surrender; his bastard son and his grandson fell in the assault;
and two of his sons, with their two sons also, were conveyed to prison....
In the following March, the Pisans, who had imprisoned the Count Ugolino, with two of his sons and two of his grandchildren, the offspring of his son the Count Guelfo, in a tower on the Piazza of the Anziani, caused the tower to be locked, the key thrown into the Arno, and all food to be withheld from them.
In a few days they died of hunger; but the Count first with loud cries declared his penitence, and yet neither priest nor friar was allowed to shrive him. All the five, when dead, were dragged out of the prison, and meanly interred; and from thenceforward the tower was called the Tower of Famine, and so shall ever be." G. Villani, lib. vii.]
Ruggieri. Why I neighbor him so close, Now list. That through effect of his ill thoughts In him my trust reposing, I was ta'en And after murder'd, need is not I tell.
What therefore thou canst not have heard, that is, How cruel was the murder, shalt thou hear, And know if he have wrong'd me. A small grate Within that mew, which for my sake the name Of Famine bears, where others yet must pine, Already through its opening several moons Had shown me, when I slept the evil sleep That from the future tore the curtain off.
This one, methought, as master of the sport, Rode forth to chase the gaunt wolf, and his whelps, Unto the mountain which forbids the sight Of Lucca to the Pisan. With lean brachs Inquisitive and keen, before him ranged
[2: The mountain S. Giuliano between Pisa and Lucca.]
Lanfranchi with Sismondi and Gualandi.
After short course the father and the sons Seem'd tired and lagging, and methought I saw The sharp tusks gore their sides. When I awoke, Before the dawn, amid their sleep I heard My sons (for they were with me) weep and ask For bread. Right cruel art thou, if no pang Thou feel at thinking what my heart foretold;
And if not now, why use thy tears to flow?
Now had they waken'd; and the hour drew near When they were wont to bring us food; the mind Of each misgave him through his dream, and I Heard, at its outlet underneath, lock'd up The horrible tower: whence, uttering not a word, I look'd upon the visage of my sons.
I wept not: so all stone I felt within.
They wept: and one, my little Anselmo, cried,
'Thou lookest so! Father, what ails thee?' Yet I shed no tear, nor answer'd all that day Nor the next night, until another sun Came out upon the world. When a faint beam Had to our doleful prison made its way, And in four countenances I described The image of my own, on either hand Through agony I bit; and they, who thought I did it through desire of feeding, rose O' the sudden, and cried, 'Father, we should grieve Far less if thou wouldst eat of us: thou gavest These weeds of miserable flesh we wear;
And do thou strip them off from us again.'
Then, not to make them sadder, I kept down My spirit in stillness. That day and the next We all were silent. Ah, obdurate earth!
Why open'dst not upon us? When we came To the fourth day, then Gaddo at my feet Outstretch'd did fling him, crying, 'Hast no help For me, my father!' There he died; and e'en Plainly as thou seest me, saw I the three Fall one by one 'twixt the fifth day and sixth: Whence I betook me, now grown blind, to grope Over them all, and for three days aloud Call'd on them who were dead. Then, fasting got The mastery of grief." Thus having spoke, Once more upon the wretched skull his teeth He fasten'd like a mastiff's 'gainst the bone, Firm and unyielding. O thou Pisa! shame Of all the people, who their dwelling make In that fair region, where the Italian voice Is heard; since that thy neighbors are so slack To punish, from their deep foundations rise Capraia and Gorgona, and dam up The mouth of Arno; that each soul in thee May perish in the waters. What if fame Reported that thy castles were betray'd By Ugolino, yet no right hadst thou To stretch his children on the rack. For them, Brigata, Uguccione, and the pair Of gentle ones, of whom my song hath told, Their tender years, thou modern Thebes, did make Uncapable of guilt. Onward we pass'd, Where others, skarf'd in rugged folds of ice, Not on their feet were turn'd, but each reversed.
[3: Small islands, near the mouth of the Arno.]
There, very weeping suffers not to weep;
For, at their eyes, grief, seeking passage, finds Impediment, and rolling inward turns For increase of sharp anguish: the first tears Hang cluster'd, and like crystal vizors show, Under the socket brimming all the cup.
Now though the cold had from my face dislodged each feeling, as 't were callous, yet me seem'd Some breath of wind I felt. "Whence cometh this,"
Said I, "my Master? Is not here below All vapor quench'd?" - "Thou shalt be speedily,"
He answer'd, "where thine eyes shall tell thee whence, The cause descrying of this airy shower."
Then cried out one, in the chill crust who mourn'd:
"O souls! so cruel, that the farthest post Hath been assign'd you, from this face remove The harden'd veil; that I may vent the grief Impregnate at my heart, some little space,
Ere it congeal again." I thus replied:
"Say who thou wast, if thou wouldst have mine aid;
And if I extricate thee not, far down As to the lowest ice may I descend."
"The friar Alberigo," answer'd he,
"Am I, who from the evil garden pluck'd Its fruitage, and am here repaid, the date More luscious for my fig." - "Hah!" I exclaim'd,
"Art thou, too, dead? How in the world aloft It fareth with my body," answer'd he,
"I am right ignorant. Such privilege Hath Ptolomea, that oft - times the soul Drops hither, ere by Atropos divorced.
And that thou mayst wipe out more willingly The glazed tear - drops that o'erlay mine eyes, Know that the soul, that moment she betrays, As I did, yields her body to a fiend Who after moves and governs it at will, Till all its time be rounded: headlong she Falls to this cistern. And perchance above Doth yet appear the body of a ghost, Who here behind me winters. Him thou know'st, If thou but newly art arrived below.
The years are many that have passed away, Since to this fastness Branca Doria came."
[4: The friar Alberigo," Alberigo de' Manfredi, of Faenza, one of the Frati Godenti (Joyous Friars), who having quarrelled with some of his brotherhood, under pretence of wishing to be reconciled, invited them to a banquet, at the conclusion of which he called for the fruit, a signal for the assassins to rush in and despatch those whom he had marked for destruction.
Hence, adds Landino, it is said proverbially of one who has been stabbed, that he had had some of the friar Alberigo's fruit.]
[5: \"Ptolomea." This circle is named Ptolomea from Ptolemy the son of Abubus, by whom Simon and his sons were murdered, at a great banquet he had made for them. See I Maccabees, ch. xvi. Or from Ptolemy, King of Egypt, the betrayer of Pompey the Great.]
[6: \"Branca Doria." The family of Doria was possessed of great influence in Genoa. Branca is said to have murdered his father - in - law, Michel Zanche. See Canto xxii.]
"Now," answer'd I, "methinks thou mockest me;
For Branca Doria never yet hath died, But doth all natural functions of a man, Eats, drinks, and sleeps, and putteth raiment on."
He thus: "Not yet unto that upper foss By th' evil talons guarded, where the pitch Tenacious boils, had Michel Zanche reach'd, When this one left a demon in his stead In his own body, and of one his kin, Who with him treachery wrought. But now put forth Thy hand, and ope mine eyes." I oped them not.
Ill manners were best courtesy to him.
Ah Genoese! men perverse in every way With every foulness stain'd why from the earth Are ye not cancel'd? Such an one of yours I with Romagna's darkest spirit found, As, for his doings, even now in soul Is in Cocytus plunged, and yet doth seem In body still alive upon the earth.
[7: The friar Alberigo.]
