He fled away now all his words were done, Come crying, "Where is this embittered one?" Of snakes as he along his withers bore, To where the manly semblance was endued. A dragon stood behind his nape, which o'er "Who, dwelling in the rock of Aventine, To quite the fraudful theft that he achieved, 20 25 From the great herd, that near him browsed, of kine. Whence of his crooked life he was bereaved By Hercules's mace, which gave well nigh A hundred blows, and he not ten perceived." As he was speaking, both that shape went by, And underneath us came three spirits new, Of whom my guide was not aware, nor I, 31 35 Except upon their calling, "What are you?" And all attention on themselves they drew. Oft by some chance or circumstance, one shade If, Reader, now thy faith should scarce endure Behold, where a six-footed serpent springs In front of one, and limb on limb applies. His arms it pinions with the foremost twain, And through their interval its tail was placed, And doubled-up behind his loins again. 40 45 50 55 No tree the serried ivy has embraced So tightly ever, as this reptile grim By the flame gradually a browner hue, The others who were standing still to view, Cried out, "O how thou changest, Angelo! thou art not either one or two." See now, Already did both heads together grow, And in a single aspect we descried Two figures merged, and two disfeatured so: Two arms the fourfold levers had supplied, The legs and arms, the double womb and chest, Became such parts as never man espied. No pristine semblance there was manifest, Biform and nulliform the kindless brute Seemed, and away with limping paces prest. 60 65 70 .75 As under Dogdays' potent lash the newt, From hedge to hedge when shifting, shall appear 81 A lightning if across the path it shoot, So seemed a fiery snake in its career, As at the bellies of the two it sped, All black and livid, like a mildewed ear. Stung one of them, and straight upon the stroke Fell back below him, on the ground outspread. Like one by slumbers or by fever broke. The serpent him, he eyed the serpent yet, One by the mouth, the other through the wound, Fumed violently, and the fumings met. No more let Lucan now the story sound Of miserable Nassidius or Sabellus, But hark! for what a flight our wings are bound; No more of Arethuse let Ovid tell us, Or Cadmus, for if these to brook or snake He turns by poet-craft, I am not jealous. 85 90 95 For never did he yet two natures make To change themselves by such a mutual act, That either's form should other's body take. The twain reciprocated by this pact; His tail into a fork the serpent split, And the stung man his footmarks did contract. His legs and thighs he did together fit And solder so, there could not have been traced Within a while one vestige of the slit. The figure, which beneath him was defaced, Its cloven tail erected, and its skin I saw the arms drawn by the armpits in, As much in length as those had lost herein. The middle feet about each other thrown, Became the organ that's concealed by males, The caitiff making two limbs of his own. And thus while each of them the smoke yet veils In foreign hues, and while the new skin grows On this side, as on yonder side it fails, N 100 105 110 115 120 |