DANTE'S SUBLIME COMEDY: HELL, Chapter 21
Chapter
21: Swindlers
We
went from height of bridge to bridge’s height
of the fourth malebolge, the blackest
moat
by far to greet my sight, brimful of tar 3
from
side to side, boiling like the vats in
Venice’s great arsenal where the
state
builds its new ships, makes old ships
water-tight. 6
No
furnace lit by hand but wrath divine
made bubbles in the pitch welter, expand,
burst, rise again within that scalding
ditch 9
at
which I stared down till my leader cried,
“Take care!” pulled me aside. Fearful,
amazed,
I gazed at a black demon speeding by, 12
batwings
spread, claws clutching a sinner’s feet,
with thigh over each shoulder, roaring
out,
“Come comrades! See a new town
councilor 15
from
Lucca – I am flying back for more.
No lack of politicians there to
swear
that yea is nae for cash, then for more
pay 18
to vote the other way.” He flung his freight
face down into the pitch. The victim
shrieked,
arched back, tried to rise. From below
the bridge 21
leapt
demons wielding hooks and pitchforks who
forced him down as cooks plunge boiling
meat,
yelling, “You cannot swindle us, so sink 24
you
bastard, sink! Go under! Drink our tar
or feel us rip and scar!” My master
said,
“These boys are rough. You go behind
that rock 27
while
I talk sense to them.” Gladly I hid
and saw the horrid crew rush out at
him
as dogs attack a beggar. Unafraid 30
he told
them, “Before you risk prodding me,
a word first with your captain.
Which is he?”
“Old Stinkytail!” they cried and moved
aside 33
from
one who grunted, “Talk will not save your hide.”
My guide replied, “See I have reached
this place
clean and unhurt, proving that
heavenly grace 36
is
leading me. This force you must obey,
to help me and a friend upon our way
down to Hell’s deepest pit. This you
must do 39
or
boil in your own stew.” I never saw
a villain so downcast as Stinkytail.
He gulped then panted, “Bring your
pal out here –
42
I’ll
see what I can do.” Trembling with fear
I joined his crew like Pisans I have
seen
pass between ranks of Tuscans, who
they must
45
trust
not to kill them, but can’t wholly trust,
I clung close to my leader’s side
among
these glaring demons wielding blades
and prongs. 48
“One
wee jag in the arse will do no harm?”
“Why wee? Why not a few?” two whispered, but
“Scratcher and Gasher, shut your stupid
gobs 51
or feel
me fork your bums!” roared
Stinkytail,
then to my leader said, “The bridge
ahead
fell in an earthquake twelve
hundred, sixty-six 54
years
ago yesterday at noon. You need
a bridge much further round this
dyke. I’ll pick—
that’s if you like— good men to take
you there.
57
I
whispered, “Master, please let us go alone.”
he murmured,” Please control your
cowardice.
These
demons hate us, yes, but fear me more, 60
so
stop those scowls which show how foul they are
so must exasperate.” He said aloud,
“Thank you, we accept.” Stinkytail
grinned and cried, 63
“Clartyclaw,
take command of these: Snotbeard,
Dogspew ,Ratsnout, Toadspit,
Tusker, Pigshit,
Snatcher, Scratcher, Gasher and
Cuntycrab.
66
Aye,
these good men will do, so now you lot,
give both my guests the care that is
their due
to the next bridge’s arch, but let
no part
69
of
swindlers arse show above tar you pass.
Now, forward march!” He gave a bugle
call
out of his anus, very loud and
clear.
72
As
counter sign each fiend stuck out his tongue
and farted just as loudly in the
rear.
Dreading each one I started
marching too 75
along
beside my guide, sweating with fear.
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