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  "work": {
    "slug": "inferno",
    "name": "Inferno"
  },
  "parents": [
    {
      "slug": "divine-comedy",
      "name": "Divine Comedy",
      "url": "/sources/divine-comedy/"
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  ],
  "chapter": {
    "num": 25,
    "slug": "canto-25",
    "title": "Inferno · Canto 25",
    "of": 34,
    "words": 1259,
    "text": "## Inferno Canto 25\n\n\nCanto XXV\n\nArgument\n\nThe sacrilegious Fucci vents his fury in blasphemy, is seized by\nserpents, and flying is pursued by Cacus in the form of a Centaur, who is\ndescribed with a swarm of serpents on his haunch, and a dragon on his\nshoulders breathing forth fire. Our Poet then meets with the spirits of three\nof his countrymen, two of whom undergo a marvelous transformation in his\npresence.\n\nWhen he had spoke, the sinner raised his hands[1]\nPointed in mockery and cried\" \"Take them,\nGod!\nI level them at thee.\" From that day forth\nThe serpents were my friends; for round his neck\nOne of them rolling twisted, as it said,\n\"Be silent, tongue!\" Another, to his arms\nUpgliding, tied them, riveting itself\nSo close, it took from them the power to move.\n\n[1: \"The practice of thrusting out the thumb between the first and\nsecond fingers, to express the feelings of insult and contempt, has prevailed\nvery generally among the nations of Europe, and for many ages had been\ndenominated 'making the fig,' or described at least by some equivalent\nexpression.\" - Douce's \"Illustrations of Shakespeare,\" vol. i. p. 492, ed.\n1807.]\n\nPistoia! ah, Pistoia! why dost doubt\nTo turn thee into ashes, cumbering earth\nNo longer, since in evil act so far\nThou hast outdone thy seed? I did not mark,\nThrough all the gloomy circles of the abyss,\nSpirit, that swell'd so proudly' gainst his God;\n\nNot him,[2] who headlong fell from Thebes. He fled,\nNor utter'd more; and after him there came\nA Centaur full of fury, shouting, \"Where,\nWhere is the caitiff?\" On Maremma's marsh[3]\nSwarm not the serpent tribe, as on his haunch\nThey swarm'd, to where the human face begins.\nBehind his head, upon the shoulders, lay\nWith open wings a dragon, breathing fire\nOn whomsoe'er he met. To me my guide:\n\"Cacus is this, who underneath the rock\nOf Aventine spread oft a lake of blood.\nHe, from his brethren parted, here must tread\nA different journey, for his fraudful theft\nOf the great herd that near him stall'd; whence found\nHis felon deeds their end, beneath the mace\nOf stout Alcides, that perchance laid on\nA hundred blows, and not the tenth was felt.\"\n\n[2: Capaneus. Canto xiv.]\n\n[3: Near the Tuscan shore.]\n\nWhile yet he spake, the Centaur sped away:\nAnd under us three spirits came, of whom\nNor I nor he was ware, till they exclaim'd,\n\"Say who are ye!\" We then brake off discourse,\nIntent on these alone. I knew them not:\nBut, as it chanceth oft, befell that one\nHad need to name another. \"Where,\" said he,\n\"Doth Cianfa[4] lurk?\" I, for a sign my guide\nShould stand attentive, placed against my lips\nThe finger lifted. If, O reader! now\nThou be not apt to credit what I tell,\nNo marvel; for myself do scarce allow\nThe witness of mine eyes. But as I look'd\nToward them, lo! a serpent with six feet\nSprings forth on one, and fastens full upon him:\nHis midmost grasp'd the belly, a forefoot\nSeized on each arm (while deep in either cheek\nHe flesh'd his fangs); the hinder on the thighs\nWere spread, 'twixt which the tail inserted curl'd\nUpon the reins behind. Ivy ne'er clasp'd\nA dodder'd oak, as round the other's limbs\n\n[4: Said to have been of the family of Donati at Florence.]\n\nThe hideous monster intertwined his own.\nThen, as they both had been of burning wax,\nEach melted into other, mingling hues,\nThat which was either now was seen no more.\nThus up the shrinking paper, ere it burns,\nA brown tint glides, not turning yet to black,\nAnd the clean white expires. The other two\nLook'd on exclaiming, \"Ah! how dost thou change,\nAgnello![5] See! Thou art nor double now,\nNor only one.\" The two heads now became\nOne, and two figures blended in one form\nAppear'd, where both were lost. Of the four lengths\nTwo arms were made: the belly and the chest,\nThe thighs and legs, into such members changed\nAs never eye hath seen. Of former shape\nAll trace was vanish'd. Two, yet neither, seem'd\nThat image miscreate, and so pass'd on\nWith tardy steps. As underneath the scourge\nOf the fierce dog - star that lays bare the fields,\nShifting from brake to brake the lizard seems\nA flash of lightning, if he thwart the road;\nSo toward the entrails of the other two\nApproaching seem'd an adder all on fire,\nAs the dark pepper - grain livid and swart.\nIn that part, whence our life is nourish'd first,\nOnce he transpierced; then down before him fell\nStretch'd out. The pierced spirit look'd on him,\nBut spake not; yea, stood motionless and yawn'd,\nAs if by sleep or feverous fit assail'd.\nHe eyed the serpent, and the serpent him.\nOne from the wound, the other from the mouth\nBreathed a thick smoke, whose vapory columns join'd.\n\n[5: \"Agnello.\" Agnello Brunelleschi.]\n\nLucan in mute attention now may hear,\nNor thy disastrous fate, Sabellus, tell,\nNor thine, Nasidius. Ovid now be mute.\nWhat if in warbling fiction he record\nCadmus and Arethusa, to a snake\nHim changed, and her into a fountain clear,\nI envy not; for never face to face\n\nTwo natures thus transmuted did he sing,\nWherein both shapes were ready to assume\nThe other's substance. They in mutual guise\nSo answer'd that the serpent split his train\nDivided to a fork, and the pierced spirit\nDrew close his steps together, legs and thighs\nCompacted, that no sign of juncture soon\nWas visible: the tail, disparted, took\nThe figure which the spirit lost; its skin\nSoftening, his indurated to a rind.\nThe shoulders next I mark'd, that entering join'd\nThe monster's arm - pits, whose two shorter feet\nSo lengthen'd, as the others dwindling shrunk.\nThe feet behind then twisting up became\nThat part that man conceals, which in the wretch\nWas cleft in twain. While both the shadowy smoke\nWith a new color veils, and generates\nThe excrescent pile on one, peeling it off\nFrom the other body, lo! upon his feet\nOne upright rose, and prone the other fell.\nNor yet their glaring and malignant lamps\nWere shifted, though each feature changed beneath.\nOf him who stood erect, the mounting face\nRetreated toward the temples, and what there\nSuperfluous matter came, shot out in ears\nFrom the smooth cheeks; the rest, not backward dragg'd,\nOf its excess did shape the nose; and swell'd\nInto due size protuberant the lips.\nHe, on the earth who lay, meanwhile extends\nHis sharpen'd visage, and draws down the ears\nInto the head, as doth the slug his horns.\nHis tongue, continuous before and apt\nFor utterance, severs; and the other's fork\nClosing unites. That done, the smoke was laid.\nThe soul, transform'd into the brute, glides off,\nHissing along the vale, and after him\nThe other talking sputters; but soon turn'd\nHis new - grown shoulders on him, and in few\nThus to another spake: \"Along this path\nCrawling, as I have done, speed Buoso now!\"\n\nSo saw I fluctuate in successive change\nThe unsteady ballast of the seventh hold:\nAnd here if aught my pen have swerved, events\nSo strange may be its warrant. O'er mine eyes\nConfusion hung, and on my thoughts amaze.\n\nYet 'scaped they not so covertly, but well\nI mark'd Sciancato: he alone it was\nOf the three first that came, who changed not: tho'\nThe other's fate, Gaville! still dost rue.",
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}