第七圈续，第二环：自杀者。怪鸟哈尔皮的树林；维。
　　　
　　 维索斯还没有回到那边，我们就走进一片树林，树林没有青色的树叶，只是灰色的；也没有平正的树枝，只是纠缠卷曲，多节多瘤；也不结果子，只是生着毒刺。那里没有一条路径可以看得出来，就是匿居在柴齐纳和科尔奈托之间的野兽，也找不到这样荒凉幽秘的地方。那里有一种怪鸟哈尔皮做的巢，她们曾经用凶恶的预言，把特洛业人从斯恃洛法德斯岛吓跑了。她们是人面和人颈，身上有一对很的翅膀脚上有锐利爪子，大肚子上还有一团毛；她们在那些怪树上哀鸣不止。
　　　
　　 善良的老师开始对我说：“在你深入以前，你要知道你是已经在第二环了；直到你走近那可怕的沙漠，你才算是离开这一环。在这里，你要看清你将看见我曾经说过，而你不相信的事情，”当时我听见悲泣之声从四面八方传来但是又看不见一个人，因此吓得我呆在那里。我的老师以为我在那里想着，这些声音是从那些躲在树林里的灵魂发出来的。所以我的老师说：“假使你在这些树上折断一根小枝，那末你的思想就要全然打消了。”那时我抬手向前，从一棵大树上折断了一根小枝，立刻那树干就叫道：“为什么你折断我呢？”后来断处又渗出黑血，他又叹息道：“你为什么损害我？你没有一点怜悯心么？我们从前也是人，现在变成树了。即使我们是蛇的灵魂，你的手也应当慈悲些呀！”就好像一根青树枝，在这一端烧着，在那一端嘶嘶地作响；这一根断枝也是这样，血点和话语同时发出来了；因此我放手看那断枝落在地上，站在那里十分惊异。
　　　
　　 我聪明的老师回答道：“哦，受了伤害的灵魂！如果他从前读了我的诗，那他就能相信，那末他现在也不至于损害你了；因为他不相信，我才叫他做这件事情，我心里也觉得很难过！但是，请你告诉他，你是谁，因此他回到世上的时候，好把你的名字告诉大众，这样就算他对于你的补偿了。”那树干说：“你这种甜言蜜语，使我听了不能再守沉默；但是，假使我的话说得长了一些请你们不要生气。我是这样一个人，他握着腓特烈之心的两把钥匙或开或关我都十分仔细，因此别人都得不着他的生气；我对于我光荣的职责非常忠实，因此我失掉我的休息和健康。但是那娼妓淫荡的眼睛从未离开过凯撒的宫殿，这是人民的灾害，朝廷的罪恶；她煽动了许多心来反对我，这些心又煽动了奥古斯都；于是我愉快的荣光成了惨淡的忧虑。我受了这样羞辱，想着只有一死可以雪洗，所以对于我公正的身体，就加以不公正的待遇。我可以对你们发誓，我从未对于我值得敬重的主人失掉过一次忠实。假使你们之中有一个回到世上，请为我伸冤昭雪，因为我在这里还受着嫉妒的打击呢！”
　　　
　　 诗人等了一回，于是对我说：“他静默了，不要失去时光，假使你还想多知道一些，你就对他说罢，你快些问他罢。”我回答他道：“你认为什么事情可以满足我，你就问他罢；至于我呢，我心里面充满着怜惜，我不会再问他了。”因此维吉尔又开始说：“哦，囚禁在这棵树里的灵魂呀！你的请求，这个人都可替你办到。再请你告诉我们：你们的灵魂为什么会和这个多节多瘤的树木联在一起；并且，假使你能够告诉我们：你们的灵魂是否也有脱离囚禁的一天。”
　　　
　　 当时树枝鸣呜作响，即刻风声就成为话语：“我可以简单地告诉你们：当那凶狠的灵魂自愿离开他的肉体的时候，米诺斯即刻把他投进深渊的第七圈。他落在树林之中，并没有选定的地位给他，只是偶然的碰到，好比种子落了地，就在那里生根发芽，长成小树，后来就变得这样奇形怪状。哈尔皮吃他的叶子，给他痛苦，从那损伤之处发出痛苦的呻吟声。他也和别的灵魂一样，我们将来要回到我们的躯壳，但是我们不能再穿上我们的原来的衣服；因为一个人既然把他扔掉，就没有权利再把他收回了，我们从那里把躯壳拖回来，把他吊在凄惨的森林里，各人在各人灵魂所长成的树上。”
　　　
　　 我们还在那里听着；以为那树干还有很话要说呢，忽然被一种声浪惊住，如同一个人听见了打猎的声音一样，我们听见追逐的狗叫和枝叶的折落声。看呀！在我们左边，两个赤身露体、满目疮痍的灵魂，从树林中猛冲过来，把许多嫩枝幼树都碰折了。跑在前面的一个说：“现在你来罢，来罢，死神呀！”其余的一个自以为跑得太迟了，叫道：“拉诺，你的腿不及托波之战的时候来得轻便了。”他的气要跑得落下去了，他跑不动了，他只好躲藏在乱树草丛之中。在他们的后面，一群黑狗追赶着，像新断了锁链的饥饿的猎犬一样。假使一犯人蹲下来，他们就拥上去把他咬得粉碎，把他活跳的四肢撕得东一块，西一块。
　　　
　　 我的引路人拉了我的手，走到一株树旁。那树正在流血，同时我听见他叫道：“雅各波·达·圣安德烈亚！你的罪恶和我有什么关系？你为什么把我做你的帘子呢？”当时我老师正站在那里，就说：“你是准？你这样流着血，说话的声音又这样凄苦！”于是那树对我们说：”两位灵魂，你们看见我受了损害，叶子飘落满地么？请你们替我拾起来，使他们归到可怜的树根罢！我是那个城里的居民，那里因为施洗者圣约翰而遗弃了他的第一个保护神、因此这个神使他受战争的痛苦；假使不是在阿尔诺河上还留着他石像的一片，那末虽然那班市民想把给阿提拉所烧毁的城市复兴起来，也是徒劳的。至于我呢，我在家里为自己做了一个绞台。”

　　ERE Nessus yet had reach'd the other bank,
　　We enter'd on a forest, where no track
　　Of steps had worn a way. Not verdant there
　　The foliage, but of dusky hue; not light
　　The boughs and tapering, but with knares deform'd
　　And matted thick: fruits there were none, but thorns
　　Instead, with venom fill'd. Less sharp than these,
　　Less intricate the brakes, wherein abide
　　Those animals, that hate the cultur'd fields,
　　Betwixt Corneto and Cecina's stream.
　　
　　
　　Here the brute Harpies make their nest, the same
　　Who from the Strophades the Trojan band
　　Drove with dire boding of their future woe.
　　Broad are their pennons, of the human form
　　Their neck and count'nance, arm'd with talons keen
　　The feet, and the huge belly fledge with wings
　　These sit and wail on the drear mystic wood.
　　
　　The kind instructor in these words began:
　　"Ere farther thou proceed, know thou art now
　　I' th' second round, and shalt be, till thou come
　　Upon the horrid sand: look therefore well
　　Around thee, and such things thou shalt behold,
　　As would my speech discredit." On all sides
　　I heard sad plainings breathe, and none could see
　　From whom they might have issu'd. In amaze
　　Fast bound I stood. He, as it seem'd, believ'd,
　　That I had thought so many voices came
　　From some amid those thickets close conceal'd,
　　And thus his speech resum'd: "If thou lop off
　　A single twig from one of those ill plants,
　　The thought thou hast conceiv'd shall vanish quite."
　　
　　Thereat a little stretching forth my hand,
　　From a great wilding gather'd I a branch,
　　And straight the trunk exclaim'd: "Why pluck'st thou me?"
　　
　　
　　Then as the dark blood trickled down its side,
　　These words it added: "Wherefore tear'st me thus?
　　Is there no touch of mercy in thy breast?
　　Men once were we, that now are rooted here.
　　Thy hand might well have spar'd us, had we been
　　The souls of serpents." As a brand yet green,
　　That burning at one end from the' other sends
　　A groaning sound, and hisses with the wind
　　That forces out its way, so burst at once,
　　Forth from the broken splinter words and blood.
　　
　　I, letting fall the bough, remain'd as one
　　Assail'd by terror, and the sage replied:
　　"If he, O injur'd spirit! could have believ'd
　　What he hath seen but in my verse describ'd,
　　He never against thee had stretch'd his hand.
　　But I, because the thing surpass'd belief,
　　Prompted him to this deed, which even now
　　Myself I rue. But tell me, who thou wast;
　　That, for this wrong to do thee some amends,
　　In the upper world (for thither to return
　　Is granted him) thy fame he may revive."
　　
　　
　　"That pleasant word of thine," the trunk replied
　　"Hath so inveigled me, that I from speech
　　Cannot refrain, wherein if I indulge
　　A little longer, in the snare detain'd,
　　Count it not grievous. I it was, who held
　　Both keys to Frederick's heart, and turn'd the wards,
　　Opening and shutting, with a skill so sweet,
　　That besides me, into his inmost breast
　　Scarce any other could admittance find.
　　The faith I bore to my high charge was such,
　　It cost me the life-blood that warm'd my veins.
　　The harlot, who ne'er turn'd her gloating eyes
　　From Caesar's household, common vice and pest
　　Of courts, 'gainst me inflam'd the minds of all;
　　And to Augustus they so spread the flame,
　　That my glad honours chang'd to bitter woes.
　　My soul, disdainful and disgusted, sought
　　Refuge in death from scorn, and I became,
　　Just as I was, unjust toward myself.
　　By the new roots, which fix this stem, I swear,
　　That never faith I broke to my liege lord,
　　Who merited such honour; and of you,
　　If any to the world indeed return,
　　Clear he from wrong my memory, that lies
　　Yet prostrate under envy's cruel blow."
　　
　　First somewhat pausing, till the mournful words
　　Were ended, then to me the bard began:
　　"Lose not the time; but speak and of him ask,
　　If more thou wish to learn." Whence I replied:
　　"Question thou him again of whatsoe'er
　　Will, as thou think'st, content me; for no power
　　Have I to ask, such pity' is at my heart."
　　
　　He thus resum'd; "So may he do for thee
　　Freely what thou entreatest, as thou yet
　　Be pleas'd, imprison'd Spirit! to declare,
　　How in these gnarled joints the soul is tied;
　　And whether any ever from such frame
　　Be loosen'd, if thou canst, that also tell."
　　
　　Thereat the trunk breath'd hard, and the wind soon
　　Chang'd into sounds articulate like these;
　　
　　Briefly ye shall be answer'd. "When departs
　　The fierce soul from the body, by itself
　　Thence torn asunder, to the seventh gulf
　　By Minos doom'd, into the wood it falls,
　　No place assign'd, but wheresoever chance
　　Hurls it, there sprouting, as a grain of spelt,
　　It rises to a sapling, growing thence
　　A savage plant. The Harpies, on its leaves
　　Then feeding, cause both pain and for the pain
　　A vent to grief. We, as the rest, shall come
　　For our own spoils, yet not so that with them
　　We may again be clad; for what a man
　　Takes from himself it is not just he have.
　　Here we perforce shall drag them; and throughout
　　The dismal glade our bodies shall be hung,
　　Each on the wild thorn of his wretched shade."
　　
　　Attentive yet to listen to the trunk
　　We stood, expecting farther speech, when us
　　A noise surpris'd, as when a man perceives
　　The wild boar and the hunt approach his place
　　Of station'd watch, who of the beasts and boughs
　　Loud rustling round him hears. And lo! there came
　　Two naked, torn with briers, in headlong flight,
　　That they before them broke each fan o' th' wood.
　　"Haste now," the foremost cried, "now haste thee death!"
　　
　　
　　The' other, as seem'd, impatient of delay
　　Exclaiming, "Lano! not so bent for speed
　　Thy sinews, in the lists of Toppo's field."
　　And then, for that perchance no longer breath
　　Suffic'd him, of himself and of a bush
　　One group he made. Behind them was the wood
　　Full of black female mastiffs, gaunt and fleet,
　　As greyhounds that have newly slipp'd the leash.
　　On him, who squatted down, they stuck their fangs,
　　And having rent him piecemeal bore away
　　The tortur'd limbs. My guide then seiz'd my hand,
　　And led me to the thicket, which in vain
　　Mourn'd through its bleeding wounds: "O Giacomo
　　Of Sant' Andrea! what avails it thee,"
　　It cried, "that of me thou hast made thy screen?
　　For thy ill life what blame on me recoils?"
　　
　　When o'er it he had paus'd, my master spake:
　　"Say who wast thou, that at so many points
　　Breath'st out with blood thy lamentable speech?"
　　
　　He answer'd: "Oh, ye spirits: arriv'd in time
　　To spy the shameful havoc, that from me
　　My leaves hath sever'd thus, gather them up,
　　And at the foot of their sad parent-tree
　　Carefully lay them. In that city' I dwelt,
　　Who for the Baptist her first patron chang'd,
　　Whence he for this shall cease not with his art
　　To work her woe: and if there still remain'd not
　　On Arno's passage some faint glimpse of him,
　　Those citizens, who rear'd once more her walls
　　Upon the ashes left by Attila,
　　Had labour'd without profit of their toil.
　　I slung the fatal noose from my own roof."