续惩妒：圭多·杜卡；黎尼埃尔·卡尔波里。
“在死神没有放他飞升之前，他竟能经历我们这山的各层，开眼闭眼听任他的自由，这个人是谁呢？”“我不知道他是谁，但我知道他一定不是单独的一个；你显然比较接近他，你可以问他；对他客气些，也许他是会说话的。”
那两个灵魂，相互依靠着，坐在我的右边，私下里议论。后来其中一个抬着头说：“灵魂呀！你带着肉耳升天，为仁爱的原因请安慰我们罢，告诉我们你从何来？你是谁？你蒙了天恩，做了闻所未闻的事情，使我们非常惊奇。”我说：“在托斯卡那的中央，从法尔特罗纳山流出一条小河，他所流经五百里以上的路程。我的肉体就生长在河岸之旁；至于我是谁，你问也没有太多，因为我的名字并不知名。”首先开口的灵魂答道：“假使我猜中你的意思，你所说的是阿尔诺河。”
于是其他一个问他：“那为什么他要避开这条河的名字不说，好像一个人不愿所做的丑事一样呢？”为了答复这个问题，先开口的灵魂说：“我不知道；但不愿承认这条河的名字并非没有理由。此河之地发源，山脉蜿蜒，别处绝无可比拟，就是佩洛鲁斯也是他的一部分。从河源到海口水( 在那里补偿海面的损失，太阳又蒸发海水使他重还到一切的河流，河流两旁的居民都嫌厌道德，视道德如仇敌，如蛇蝎，这也许是地方的恶传统，也是历来的坏风俗。因此住在此河流域的人民，品质上已经变化了许多，似乎女巫刻尔吉用巫术使他们变化为草场上的动物了。此河最初在细瘦的河床流过污秽的猪舍，这些猪只已饲以橡子，不应食吃人的养料；再下游，便流经一群野狗旁边，他们不度自己的力量而四处寻衅，对于他们此河掉头不顾而去了，河流愈前进，所遇的不是狗而是狼了。最后，河道加深，在那里逢到一班狐狸，他们满肚子的诡计，没有一个有本领的能够取胜他们。我还要对你说，虽然有人会听见；假使他能记得这真实的预言，对于他将不是没有丝毫好处的。我看见你的子孙将在此河岸上做一位驱狼的猎人，使他们恐惧。他先将他们的肉活卖，然后杀死他们像捏死一只衰老垂危的兽；他夺去许多生命，也夺去自己的名誉，仍满身血淋淋地行出惨淡的森林，就这样弃置在那里，从今百年以后也难以恢复旧观。”
由于报告了不幸的消息，听者的面色改变，惟恐祸事的临头；我看见另外一个灵魂，在谛听之下，态度现出忧伤。这一个预言，那一个忧伤，使我生出非常想知道他们的名字的愿望，于是我恳求他们说出来。
因为我的恳求，那首先开口的灵魂说：“你要我为你做的事情，恰是你不肯对我做的事情。但上帝给你这样大的恩惠，我自然也不应当拒绝你的请求。请听着：我的名字叫圭多·杜卡。我的血管中充满妒火，假如我看见别人在欢乐，我的面色便变得青白。我下了那样的种子，所以收了这样的果实。人类呀！为什么不将你的心放大并随同别人的欢乐而欢乐？他的名字叫做黎尼埃尔，他是卡尔波里族的点饰和光荣，他的后裔都不再拥有他的美德。不仅他的一族如此，在那里的山河，雷诺河和海之间，都无善足述，那里的居民竟至不能辨别真伪，善恶丧失掉侠义之气；四境之内，只是生长恶草，而现在根深柢固实难芟除了！那里还是好人黎齐奥和阿利格，彼埃尔和圭多·卡尔庇故园吗？罗马人呀！你们都罹做私生子了！什么时候一个法勃罗将要在波伦亚重新生恨呢？什么时候一个伯尔纳尔丁将要在法恩紥会由爬藤变做高树呢？当我回忆圭多·普拉塔，乌格林·阿佐他曾和我们一同生活着，斐得利哥和他的同伴，特拉维尔萨里族和阿纳斯塔吉族这两族都后继无人，如果我哭泣，托斯卡那呀！请你不要惊奇。当我回忆到那些富婆和武士，他们所引生的忧愁和欢乐，我的心绪会变得恶劣！伯莱提诺罗呀！你的主人为避免罪恶都离去了，你为什么不立即逃走呢？巴卡瓦罗，他不要后代，很好；卡斯特罗卡罗坏了，科尼奥更败坏，他们还生下许多贵族伯爵。帕格尼族魔鬼离去后还算安宁，可是我对于那里的记忆并不多么纯粹。乌格林·范托林呀！你的名誉是不会受到威胁，不过迟早有后代来把他涂黑了。托斯卡那人！现在你可以离去了，我的家乡萦绕在我的心间，使我觉得哭泣爽快于谈话！”
这两个可爱的灵魂他们保持静默，听以我们的动向，由此证明我们所取的路径没有错误。我们又走了一段路。那时己看不见灵魂，忽然空中如有雷声劈下，而落在我们前面的是一种声音：“凡遇见我的必杀我！”这种声音过耳非常快，如同电光瞬目一般。耳孔里稍静了一会，突然又一个巨声，无异于一个雷声去后又续了一个：“我是阿格劳洛斯，我变做石头！”那时我有些害怕，后退一步，紧靠着我的老师。后来一切平静了；他对我说：“这种声音，就是坚硬的马勒，一个人应当保持一个人在他的位置所处范围以内；不过，假使你受了引诱，被你的古仇敌所钩摄，那末无论马勒或马鞭对你都没有什么用处。天围绕你旋转，他呼唤你，把他永恒的美德示现给你看，而你的眼睛只是注视地上。因此你要被照见一切者惩戒。”
Or ever death has prun'd his wing for flight,
That opes his eyes and covers them at will?"
"I know not who he is, but know thus much
He comes not singly. Do thou ask of him,
For thou art nearer to him, and take heed
Accost him gently, so that he may speak."
Thus on the right two Spirits bending each
Toward the other, talk'd of me, then both
Addressing me, their faces backward lean'd,
And thus the one began: "O soul, who yet
Pent in the body, tendest towards the sky!
For charity, we pray thee' comfort us,
Recounting whence thou com'st, and who thou art:
For thou dost make us at the favour shown thee
Marvel, as at a thing that ne'er hath been."
"There stretches through the midst of Tuscany,"
I straight began: "a brooklet, whose well-head
Springs up in Falterona, with his race
Not satisfied, when he some hundred miles
Hath measur'd. From his banks bring, I this frame.
To tell you who I am were words misspent:
For yet my name scarce sounds on rumour's lip."
"If well I do incorp'rate with my thought
The meaning of thy speech," said he, who first
Addrest me, "thou dost speak of Arno's wave."
To whom the other: "Why hath he conceal'd
The title of that river, as a man
Doth of some horrible thing?" The spirit, who
Thereof was question'd, did acquit him thus:
"I know not: but 'tis fitting well the name
Should perish of that vale; for from the source
Where teems so plenteously the Alpine steep
Maim'd of Pelorus, (that doth scarcely pass
Beyond that limit,) even to the point
Whereunto ocean is restor'd, what heaven
Drains from th' exhaustless store for all earth's streams,
Throughout the space is virtue worried down,
As 'twere a snake, by all, for mortal foe,
Or through disastrous influence on the place,
Or else distortion of misguided wills,
That custom goads to evil: whence in those,
The dwellers in that miserable vale,
Nature is so transform'd, it seems as they
Had shar'd of Circe's feeding. 'Midst brute swine,
Worthier of acorns than of other food
Created for man's use, he shapeth first
His obscure way; then, sloping onward, finds
Curs, snarlers more in spite than power, from whom
He turns with scorn aside: still journeying down,
By how much more the curst and luckless foss
Swells out to largeness, e'en so much it finds
Dogs turning into wolves. Descending still
Through yet more hollow eddies, next he meets
A race of foxes, so replete with craft,
They do not fear that skill can master it.
Nor will I cease because my words are heard
By other ears than thine. It shall be well
For this man, if he keep in memory
What from no erring Spirit I reveal.
Lo! I behold thy grandson, that becomes
A hunter of those wolves, upon the shore
Of the fierce stream, and cows them all with dread:
Their flesh yet living sets he up to sale,
Then like an aged beast to slaughter dooms.
Many of life he reaves, himself of worth
And goodly estimation. Smear'd with gore
Mark how he issues from the rueful wood,
Leaving such havoc, that in thousand years
It spreads not to prime lustihood again."
As one, who tidings hears of woe to come,
Changes his looks perturb'd, from whate'er part
The peril grasp him, so beheld I change
That spirit, who had turn'd to listen, struck
With sadness, soon as he had caught the word.
His visage and the other's speech did raise
Desire in me to know the names of both,
whereof with meek entreaty I inquir'd.
The shade, who late addrest me, thus resum'd:
"Thy wish imports that I vouchsafe to do
For thy sake what thou wilt not do for mine.
But since God's will is that so largely shine
His grace in thee, I will be liberal too.
Guido of Duca know then that I am.
Envy so parch'd my blood, that had I seen
A fellow man made joyous, thou hadst mark'd
A livid paleness overspread my cheek.
Such harvest reap I of the seed I sow'd.
O man, why place thy heart where there doth need
Exclusion of participants in good?
This is Rinieri's spirit, this the boast
And honour of the house of Calboli,
Where of his worth no heritage remains.
Nor his the only blood, that hath been stript
('twixt Po, the mount, the Reno, and the shore,)
Of all that truth or fancy asks for bliss;
But in those limits such a growth has sprung
Of rank and venom'd roots, as long would mock
Slow culture's toil. Where is good Lizio? where
Manardi, Traversalo, and Carpigna?
O bastard slips of old Romagna's line!
When in Bologna the low artisan,
And in Faenza yon Bernardin sprouts,
A gentle cyon from ignoble stem.
Wonder not, Tuscan, if thou see me weep,
When I recall to mind those once lov'd names,
Guido of Prata, and of Azzo him
That dwelt with you; Tignoso and his troop,
With Traversaro's house and Anastagio's,
(Each race disherited) and beside these,
The ladies and the knights, the toils and ease,
That witch'd us into love and courtesy;
Where now such malice reigns in recreant hearts.
O Brettinoro! wherefore tarriest still,
Since forth of thee thy family hath gone,
And many, hating evil, join'd their steps?
Well doeth he, that bids his lineage cease,
Bagnacavallo; Castracaro ill,
And Conio worse, who care to propagate
A race of Counties from such blood as theirs.
Well shall ye also do, Pagani, then
When from amongst you tries your demon child.
Not so, howe'er, that henceforth there remain
True proof of what ye were. O Hugolin!
Thou sprung of Fantolini's line! thy name
Is safe, since none is look'd for after thee
To cloud its lustre, warping from thy stock.
But, Tuscan, go thy ways; for now I take
Far more delight in weeping than in words.
Such pity for your sakes hath wrung my heart."
We knew those gentle spirits at parting heard
Our steps. Their silence therefore of our way
Assur'd us. Soon as we had quitted them,
Advancing onward, lo! a voice that seem'd
Like vollied light'ning, when it rives the air,
Met us, and shouted, "Whosoever finds
Will slay me," then fled from us, as the bolt
Lanc'd sudden from a downward-rushing cloud.
When it had giv'n short truce unto our hearing,
Behold the other with a crash as loud
As the quick-following thunder: "Mark in me
Aglauros turn'd to rock." I at the sound
Retreating drew more closely to my guide.
Now in mute stillness rested all the air:
And thus he spake: "There was the galling bit.
But your old enemy so baits his hook,
He drags you eager to him. Hence nor curb
Avails you, nor reclaiming call. Heav'n calls
And round about you wheeling courts your gaze
With everlasting beauties. Yet your eye
Turns with fond doting still upon the earth.
Therefore He smites you who discerneth all."
“在死神没有放他飞升之前，他竟能经历我们这山的各层，开眼闭眼听任他的自由，这个人是谁呢？”“我不知道他是谁，但我知道他一定不是单独的一个；你显然比较接近他，你可以问他；对他客气些，也许他是会说话的。”
那两个灵魂，相互依靠着，坐在我的右边，私下里议论。后来其中一个抬着头说：“灵魂呀！你带着肉耳升天，为仁爱的原因请安慰我们罢，告诉我们你从何来？你是谁？你蒙了天恩，做了闻所未闻的事情，使我们非常惊奇。”我说：“在托斯卡那的中央，从法尔特罗纳山流出一条小河，他所流经五百里以上的路程。我的肉体就生长在河岸之旁；至于我是谁，你问也没有太多，因为我的名字并不知名。”首先开口的灵魂答道：“假使我猜中你的意思，你所说的是阿尔诺河。”
于是其他一个问他：“那为什么他要避开这条河的名字不说，好像一个人不愿所做的丑事一样呢？”为了答复这个问题，先开口的灵魂说：“我不知道；但不愿承认这条河的名字并非没有理由。此河之地发源，山脉蜿蜒，别处绝无可比拟，就是佩洛鲁斯也是他的一部分。从河源到海口水( 在那里补偿海面的损失，太阳又蒸发海水使他重还到一切的河流，河流两旁的居民都嫌厌道德，视道德如仇敌，如蛇蝎，这也许是地方的恶传统，也是历来的坏风俗。因此住在此河流域的人民，品质上已经变化了许多，似乎女巫刻尔吉用巫术使他们变化为草场上的动物了。此河最初在细瘦的河床流过污秽的猪舍，这些猪只已饲以橡子，不应食吃人的养料；再下游，便流经一群野狗旁边，他们不度自己的力量而四处寻衅，对于他们此河掉头不顾而去了，河流愈前进，所遇的不是狗而是狼了。最后，河道加深，在那里逢到一班狐狸，他们满肚子的诡计，没有一个有本领的能够取胜他们。我还要对你说，虽然有人会听见；假使他能记得这真实的预言，对于他将不是没有丝毫好处的。我看见你的子孙将在此河岸上做一位驱狼的猎人，使他们恐惧。他先将他们的肉活卖，然后杀死他们像捏死一只衰老垂危的兽；他夺去许多生命，也夺去自己的名誉，仍满身血淋淋地行出惨淡的森林，就这样弃置在那里，从今百年以后也难以恢复旧观。”
由于报告了不幸的消息，听者的面色改变，惟恐祸事的临头；我看见另外一个灵魂，在谛听之下，态度现出忧伤。这一个预言，那一个忧伤，使我生出非常想知道他们的名字的愿望，于是我恳求他们说出来。
因为我的恳求，那首先开口的灵魂说：“你要我为你做的事情，恰是你不肯对我做的事情。但上帝给你这样大的恩惠，我自然也不应当拒绝你的请求。请听着：我的名字叫圭多·杜卡。我的血管中充满妒火，假如我看见别人在欢乐，我的面色便变得青白。我下了那样的种子，所以收了这样的果实。人类呀！为什么不将你的心放大并随同别人的欢乐而欢乐？他的名字叫做黎尼埃尔，他是卡尔波里族的点饰和光荣，他的后裔都不再拥有他的美德。不仅他的一族如此，在那里的山河，雷诺河和海之间，都无善足述，那里的居民竟至不能辨别真伪，善恶丧失掉侠义之气；四境之内，只是生长恶草，而现在根深柢固实难芟除了！那里还是好人黎齐奥和阿利格，彼埃尔和圭多·卡尔庇故园吗？罗马人呀！你们都罹做私生子了！什么时候一个法勃罗将要在波伦亚重新生恨呢？什么时候一个伯尔纳尔丁将要在法恩紥会由爬藤变做高树呢？当我回忆圭多·普拉塔，乌格林·阿佐他曾和我们一同生活着，斐得利哥和他的同伴，特拉维尔萨里族和阿纳斯塔吉族这两族都后继无人，如果我哭泣，托斯卡那呀！请你不要惊奇。当我回忆到那些富婆和武士，他们所引生的忧愁和欢乐，我的心绪会变得恶劣！伯莱提诺罗呀！你的主人为避免罪恶都离去了，你为什么不立即逃走呢？巴卡瓦罗，他不要后代，很好；卡斯特罗卡罗坏了，科尼奥更败坏，他们还生下许多贵族伯爵。帕格尼族魔鬼离去后还算安宁，可是我对于那里的记忆并不多么纯粹。乌格林·范托林呀！你的名誉是不会受到威胁，不过迟早有后代来把他涂黑了。托斯卡那人！现在你可以离去了，我的家乡萦绕在我的心间，使我觉得哭泣爽快于谈话！”
这两个可爱的灵魂他们保持静默，听以我们的动向，由此证明我们所取的路径没有错误。我们又走了一段路。那时己看不见灵魂，忽然空中如有雷声劈下，而落在我们前面的是一种声音：“凡遇见我的必杀我！”这种声音过耳非常快，如同电光瞬目一般。耳孔里稍静了一会，突然又一个巨声，无异于一个雷声去后又续了一个：“我是阿格劳洛斯，我变做石头！”那时我有些害怕，后退一步，紧靠着我的老师。后来一切平静了；他对我说：“这种声音，就是坚硬的马勒，一个人应当保持一个人在他的位置所处范围以内；不过，假使你受了引诱，被你的古仇敌所钩摄，那末无论马勒或马鞭对你都没有什么用处。天围绕你旋转，他呼唤你，把他永恒的美德示现给你看，而你的眼睛只是注视地上。因此你要被照见一切者惩戒。”
Or ever death has prun'd his wing for flight,
That opes his eyes and covers them at will?"
"I know not who he is, but know thus much
He comes not singly. Do thou ask of him,
For thou art nearer to him, and take heed
Accost him gently, so that he may speak."
Thus on the right two Spirits bending each
Toward the other, talk'd of me, then both
Addressing me, their faces backward lean'd,
And thus the one began: "O soul, who yet
Pent in the body, tendest towards the sky!
For charity, we pray thee' comfort us,
Recounting whence thou com'st, and who thou art:
For thou dost make us at the favour shown thee
Marvel, as at a thing that ne'er hath been."
"There stretches through the midst of Tuscany,"
I straight began: "a brooklet, whose well-head
Springs up in Falterona, with his race
Not satisfied, when he some hundred miles
Hath measur'd. From his banks bring, I this frame.
To tell you who I am were words misspent:
For yet my name scarce sounds on rumour's lip."
"If well I do incorp'rate with my thought
The meaning of thy speech," said he, who first
Addrest me, "thou dost speak of Arno's wave."
To whom the other: "Why hath he conceal'd
The title of that river, as a man
Doth of some horrible thing?" The spirit, who
Thereof was question'd, did acquit him thus:
"I know not: but 'tis fitting well the name
Should perish of that vale; for from the source
Where teems so plenteously the Alpine steep
Maim'd of Pelorus, (that doth scarcely pass
Beyond that limit,) even to the point
Whereunto ocean is restor'd, what heaven
Drains from th' exhaustless store for all earth's streams,
Throughout the space is virtue worried down,
As 'twere a snake, by all, for mortal foe,
Or through disastrous influence on the place,
Or else distortion of misguided wills,
That custom goads to evil: whence in those,
The dwellers in that miserable vale,
Nature is so transform'd, it seems as they
Had shar'd of Circe's feeding. 'Midst brute swine,
Worthier of acorns than of other food
Created for man's use, he shapeth first
His obscure way; then, sloping onward, finds
Curs, snarlers more in spite than power, from whom
He turns with scorn aside: still journeying down,
By how much more the curst and luckless foss
Swells out to largeness, e'en so much it finds
Dogs turning into wolves. Descending still
Through yet more hollow eddies, next he meets
A race of foxes, so replete with craft,
They do not fear that skill can master it.
Nor will I cease because my words are heard
By other ears than thine. It shall be well
For this man, if he keep in memory
What from no erring Spirit I reveal.
Lo! I behold thy grandson, that becomes
A hunter of those wolves, upon the shore
Of the fierce stream, and cows them all with dread:
Their flesh yet living sets he up to sale,
Then like an aged beast to slaughter dooms.
Many of life he reaves, himself of worth
And goodly estimation. Smear'd with gore
Mark how he issues from the rueful wood,
Leaving such havoc, that in thousand years
It spreads not to prime lustihood again."
As one, who tidings hears of woe to come,
Changes his looks perturb'd, from whate'er part
The peril grasp him, so beheld I change
That spirit, who had turn'd to listen, struck
With sadness, soon as he had caught the word.
His visage and the other's speech did raise
Desire in me to know the names of both,
whereof with meek entreaty I inquir'd.
The shade, who late addrest me, thus resum'd:
"Thy wish imports that I vouchsafe to do
For thy sake what thou wilt not do for mine.
But since God's will is that so largely shine
His grace in thee, I will be liberal too.
Guido of Duca know then that I am.
Envy so parch'd my blood, that had I seen
A fellow man made joyous, thou hadst mark'd
A livid paleness overspread my cheek.
Such harvest reap I of the seed I sow'd.
O man, why place thy heart where there doth need
Exclusion of participants in good?
This is Rinieri's spirit, this the boast
And honour of the house of Calboli,
Where of his worth no heritage remains.
Nor his the only blood, that hath been stript
('twixt Po, the mount, the Reno, and the shore,)
Of all that truth or fancy asks for bliss;
But in those limits such a growth has sprung
Of rank and venom'd roots, as long would mock
Slow culture's toil. Where is good Lizio? where
Manardi, Traversalo, and Carpigna?
O bastard slips of old Romagna's line!
When in Bologna the low artisan,
And in Faenza yon Bernardin sprouts,
A gentle cyon from ignoble stem.
Wonder not, Tuscan, if thou see me weep,
When I recall to mind those once lov'd names,
Guido of Prata, and of Azzo him
That dwelt with you; Tignoso and his troop,
With Traversaro's house and Anastagio's,
(Each race disherited) and beside these,
The ladies and the knights, the toils and ease,
That witch'd us into love and courtesy;
Where now such malice reigns in recreant hearts.
O Brettinoro! wherefore tarriest still,
Since forth of thee thy family hath gone,
And many, hating evil, join'd their steps?
Well doeth he, that bids his lineage cease,
Bagnacavallo; Castracaro ill,
And Conio worse, who care to propagate
A race of Counties from such blood as theirs.
Well shall ye also do, Pagani, then
When from amongst you tries your demon child.
Not so, howe'er, that henceforth there remain
True proof of what ye were. O Hugolin!
Thou sprung of Fantolini's line! thy name
Is safe, since none is look'd for after thee
To cloud its lustre, warping from thy stock.
But, Tuscan, go thy ways; for now I take
Far more delight in weeping than in words.
Such pity for your sakes hath wrung my heart."
We knew those gentle spirits at parting heard
Our steps. Their silence therefore of our way
Assur'd us. Soon as we had quitted them,
Advancing onward, lo! a voice that seem'd
Like vollied light'ning, when it rives the air,
Met us, and shouted, "Whosoever finds
Will slay me," then fled from us, as the bolt
Lanc'd sudden from a downward-rushing cloud.
When it had giv'n short truce unto our hearing,
Behold the other with a crash as loud
As the quick-following thunder: "Mark in me
Aglauros turn'd to rock." I at the sound
Retreating drew more closely to my guide.
Now in mute stillness rested all the air:
And thus he spake: "There was the galling bit.
But your old enemy so baits his hook,
He drags you eager to him. Hence nor curb
Avails you, nor reclaiming call. Heav'n calls
And round about you wheeling courts your gaze
With everlasting beauties. Yet your eye
Turns with fond doting still upon the earth.
Therefore He smites you who discerneth all."