Could any, even in words unclogged by rhyme Recount the wounds that now I saw,[715] and blood, Although he aimed at it time after time? Here every tongue must fail of what it would, Because our human speech and powers of thought To grasp so much come short in aptitude. If all the people were together brought Who in Apulia,[716] land distressed by fate, Made lamentation for the bloodshed wrought By Rome;[717] and in that war procrastinate[718] 10 When the large booty of the rings was won, As Livy writes whose every word has weight; With those on whom such direful deeds were done When Robert Guiscard[719] they as foes assailed; And those of whom still turns up many a bone At Ceperan,[720] where each Apulian failed In faith; and those at Tagliacozzo[721] strewed, Where old Alardo, not by arms, prevailed; And each his wounds and mutilations showed, Yet would they far behind by those be left 20 Who had the vile Ninth Bolgia for abode. No cask, of middle stave or end bereft, E'er gaped like one I saw the rest among, Slit from the chin all downward to the cleft. Between his legs his entrails drooping hung; The pluck and that foul bag were evident Which changes what is swallowed into dung. And while I gazed upon him all intent, Opening his breast his eyes on me he set, Saying: 'Behold, how by myself I'm rent! 30 See how dismembered now is Mahomet![722] Ali[723] in front of me goes weeping too; With visage from the chin to forelock split. By all the others whom thou seest there grew Scandal and schism while yet they breathed the day; Because of which they now are cloven through. There stands behind a devil on the way, Us with his sword thus cruelly to trim: He cleaves again each of our company As soon as we complete the circuit grim; 40 Because the wounds of each are healed outright Or e'er anew he goes in front of him. But who art thou that peerest from the height, It may be putting off to reach the pain Which shall the crimes confessed by thee requite?' 'Death has not seized him yet, nor is he ta'en To torment for his sins,' my Master said; 'But, that he may a full experience gain, By me, a ghost, 'tis doomed he should be led Down the Infernal circles, round on round; 50 And what I tell thee is the truth indeed.' A hundred shades and more, to whom the sound Had reached, stood in the moat to mark me well, Their pangs forgot; so did the words astound. 'Let Fra Dolcin[724] provide, thou mayst him tell-- Thou, who perchance ere long shalt sunward go-- Unless he soon would join me in this Hell, Much food, lest aided by the siege of snow The Novarese should o'er him victory get, Which otherwise to win they would be slow.' 60