At the time of Dante's banishment from Florence Castle Lizzana was the home of the Scaligers, who gave shelter to the poet during his exile. Not far from the Castle is that famous Sclavini (or land slip) di San Marco, which is in reality a vast "_steinmeer_," and is probably rather of the nature of a great and possibly pre-historic moraine, than a land slide. But be this as it may the locality of this immense accumulation of huge rocks thrown hither and thither no doubt provided the poet with at least the inspiration of the descent into the Inferno,[19] which runs as follows:-- "The place, where to descend the precipice We came, was rough as Alp; and on its verge Such object lay, as every eye would shun. As is that ruin, which Adice's stream On this side Trento struck, shouldering the wave, Or loosed by earthquake or for lack of prop; For from the mountain's summit, whence it moved To the low level, so the headlong rock Is shivered, that some passage it might give To him who from above would pass; e'en such Into the chasm was the descent: and there At point of the disparted ridge...." CARY'S Translation. There is a legend that a beautiful city, once known as San Marco, which was destroyed by a landslip that took place at the beginning of the ninth century, lies buried under the gigantic rocks. At any rate, in the Middle Ages this belief prevailed, with the result that the peasants of the district were for ever digging amidst the _débris_ in the hope of finding some of the vast treasure which tradition said had been buried with the city. The story, which possesses an almost Boccaccian touch of humour, goes on to say that on one occasion a peasant, whilst thus excavating, came across a vast boulder, on which was written in letters of fire in Italian, "Fortunate will they be who turn me over." Naturally enough, the peasant was in a state of great delight; surely this was an indication that the riches for which he sought would be found hidden underneath the stone. Calling his neighbours together, and, doubtless, promising them a share of the spoil, after almost superhuman exertions, the great rock was rolled over; but instead of finding in the cavity disclosed the treasure which they expected, they found but another inscription on the under side of the rock of a jocular and taunting nature, also in Italian, which, literally translated, ran as follows: "Thanks for turning me over; I had a pain in my ribs." As the Italian peasant, of all others, cares little for unremunerative toil, and is easily depressed by such sarcasm, we are told, "From that time forth the supposed ruined city of San Marco and its buried treasures were left in peace."