Sowers of Discord, Bertran de Born
Who could ever, even in straight prose
And after much retelling, tell in full
The bloodletting and wounds that I now saw?
Each tongue that tried would certainly trip up
5 Because our speaking and remembering
Cannot comprehend the scope of pain.
Were all those men gathered again together
Who once in the fateful land of Apulia
Mourned the lifeblood spilled by the Trojans,
10 And those who shed their blood in the long war
In which the spoils were a mound of golden rings,
As Livy has unerringly informed us,
And those also who felt the painful gashes
In the onslaught against Robert Guiscard,
15 And those others whose bones are still stacked up
At Ceperano where all the Apulians
Turned traitors, and those too from Tagliacozzo
Where old Alardo conquered without weapons,
And those who show their limbs run through and those
20 With limbs hacked off — they all could not have matched
The ninth pocket’s degraded state of grief.
Even a cask with bottom or sides knocked out
Never cracked so wide as one soul I saw
Burst open from the chin to where one farts.
25 His guts were hanging out between his legs;
His pluck gaped forth and that disgusting sack
Which turns to shit what throats have gobbled down.
While I was all agog with gazing at him,
He stared at me and, as his two hands pulled
30 His chest apart, cried, "Look how I rip myself!
"Look at how mangled is Mohammed here!
In front of me, Ali treks onward, weeping,
His face cleft from his chin to his forelock.
"And all the others whom you see down here
35 Were sowers of scandal and schism while
They lived, and for this they are rent in two.
"A devil goes in back here who dresses us
So cruelly by trimming each one of the pack
With the fine cutting edge of his sharp sword
40 "Whenever we come round this forlorn road:
Because by then our old wounds have closed up
Before we pass once more for the next blow.
"But who are you, moping upon that ridge
Perhaps to put off facing the penalty
45 Pronounced on you by your own accusations?"
"Death has not yet reached him, nor guilt led him
To the torture here," — my master answered,
"But, to offer him the full experience,
"I who am dead am destined to guide him
50 From circle to circle down here into hell,
And, as surely as I speak to you, it’s true."
More than a hundred, when they heard him, halted
Inside the ditch to peer at me in wonder,
Forgetting their torments for the moment.
55 "Tell Brother Dolcino then, you who perhaps
Shortly shall see the sun, to arm himself
With food — unless he wants to follow me
"Here promptly — so that the weight of snow
Does not bring victory to the Novarese
60 Who otherwise would not find winning easy."
With one foot lifted in the air to go,
Mohammed addressed these words to me,
Then set the foot back on the ground and left.
Another sinner with his throat lanced through
65 And with his nose carved off up to the eyebrows
And with only a single ear remaining
Stopped with the rest to stare in amazement,
And, before they could, he opened wide his windpipe,
Which on the outside looked bright red, and said,
70 "O you whom guilt does not condemn and whom
I have seen in the land of Italy,
Unless a strong resemblance now deceives me,
"Remember Pier da Medicina should you
Ever return to view the gentle plain
75 Which slopes from Vercelli to Marcabò,
"And make known to the two best men of Fano,
To Messers Guido and Angiolello,
That, unless our foresight here be worthless,
"They shall be thrown overboard from their ship
80 And sunk with stones near La Cattolica
Through the treachery of a felon tyrant.
"Between the islands of Cyprus and Majorca
Neptune never saw a crime more heinous
By raiding pirates or the ancient Argives.
85 "That one-eyed traitor — who rules over the city
On which someone here with me would prefer
That he had never fed his single sight —
"Shall first arrange for them a parley with him,
Then act to make sure that they will not need
90 Vows or prayers against Focara’s headwinds."
And I told him, "If you want me to carry
News of you above, point out and tell me
Who is the one who rues sighting the city?"
At that he gripped a hand upon the jaw
95 Of his companion and forced his mouth agape,
Shouting, "Here’s the one, but he doesn’t talk!
"This chap in exile submerged all the doubts
Of Caesar, boasting that one well prepared
Can only suffer loss by hesitation."
100 Oh how flabbergasted he appeared to me,
With his tongue slashed in his throat — Curio,
Who once had been so resolute in speaking!
And one who had both of his hands chopped off,
Raising up his stumps in the smut-filled air
105 So that the blood besmeared and soiled his face,
Cried out, "You will also remember Mosca
Who said, alas, ‘What’s done is dead and gone!’
That sowed the seed of trouble for the Tuscans!"
And I added, "— and for your kinsfolk, death!"
110 With that the sinner, sorrow heaped on sorrow,
Scurried away like one gone mad with grief.
But I stayed there to inspect that muster
And spied something that I should be afraid
To tell of on my own without more proof,
115 Had I not the assurance of my conscience,
The good companion heartening a man
Beneath the breastplate of its pure intention.
I saw for sure — and still I seem to see it —
A body without a head that walked along
120 Just as the others in that sad herd were walking,
But it held the severed head by the hair,
Swinging it like a lantern in its hand,
And the head stared at us and said, "Ah me!"
Itself had made a lamp of its own self,
125 And they were two in one and one in two:
How can that be? He knows who so ordains it.
When it was right at the base of the bridge,
It raised up full length the arm with the head
To carry closer to us words, which were:
130 "Now you see the galling punishment,
You there, breathing, come visiting the dead:
See if you find pain heavier than this!
"And so that you may bring back news of me,
Know that I am Bertran de Born, the one
135 Who offered the young king corrupt advice.
"I made the son and father rebel foes.
Achitophel with his pernicious promptings
Did no worse harm to Absalom and David.
"Because I severed persons bound so closely,
140 I carry my brain separate (what grief!)
From its life-source which is within this trunk.
"So see in me the counterstroke of justice."
