I trow I pleased my master, he confest In every feature ever such content, To hear the words I voiced from Truth's behest. And quite upon his breast when I was cast, But thus unto the bridge's top he strode, Full soft above the untrimmed and craggy cope, 125 130 That would have made for goats an uncouth road; CANTO XX. Now to new pains must I accord my verses, And matter for the twentieth canto strew The depth of that uncovered gulf to sound, They all appeared distorted wondrously Betwixt the chin and bosom; for the face Of each one from the reins was turned awry, And backwards it behoved them to proceed; For none in front had power to cast his eye. 5 10 15 H A man by force of palsy may indeed Have so been wrung throughout against the grain, But I've not seen, nor is't within my creed, O Reader, an' if God will have thee gain Fruit from thy study, let thy own heart show 20 If dry-faced any more I could remain, Can any man be guilty more than he For whom the earth was opened, making call 6 The Thebans, Why dost from the battle flee, And shattering down he went without a stay 25 30 35 See him his shoulders for his breast display; When he a female from a male became, Exchanging all the limbs that erst he bore; Ere he the down of manhood could reclaim. Who 'mid the Luni mountains, whereon moil His dwelling-place, whence of the ocean wide And of the stars nought could his prospect foil. And she, who veils her paps, though undescried From this part, with her falling untrimmed hair, And carries all her down on yonder side, Was Manto, who through many lands did fare, Then came at last on that which gave me birth; Of which now hear me for awhile declare. 55 As soon as from her father life went forth, Benâco, lies at foot of the Alp, whereby At least a thousand springs down Apennine, That lake's reposing waters to supply. A place is there, upon the frontier-line, At which the Bishop of Verona, Trent, Or Brescia, should he pass, the cross might sign. Confronts the Brescians and the Bergamese, Where greatest is the enclosing land's descent. As from his lap Benâco needs must throw, And turns a river 'twixt the verdant leas. As soon then as the current 'gins to flow, "Tis not Benâco called, but Mincius, Down to Governo, where it blends with Po. |