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    Canto XXXII

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    If I had rhymes both rough and stridulous,
    As were appropriate to the dismal hole
    Down upon which thrust all the other rocks,
    I would press out the juice of my conception
    More fully; but because I have them not,
    Not without fear I bring myself to speak;
    For 'tis no enterprise to take in jest,
    To sketch the bottom of all the universe,
    Nor for a tongue that cries Mamma and Babbo.
    But may those Ladies help this verse of mine,
    Who helped Amphion in enclosing Thebes,
    That from the fact the word be not diverse.
    O rabble ill-begotten above all,
    Who're in the place to speak of which is hard,
    'Twere better ye had here been sheep or goats!
    When we were down within the darksome well,
    Beneath the giant's feet, but lower far,
    And I was scanning still the lofty wall,
    I heard it said to me: "Look how thou steppest!
    Take heed thou do not trample with thy feet
    The heads of the tired, miserable brothers!"
    Whereat I turned me round, and saw before me
    And underfoot a lake, that from the frost
    The semblance had of glass, and not of water.
    So thick a veil ne'er made upon its current
    In winter-time Danube in Austria,
    Nor there beneath the frigid sky the Don,
    As there was here; so that if Tambernich
    Had fallen upon it, or Pietrapana,
    E'en at the edge 'twould not have given a creak.
    And as to croak the frog doth place himself
    With muzzle out of water,--when is dreaming
    Of gleaning oftentimes the peasant-girl,--
    Livid, as far down as where shame appears,
    Were the disconsolate shades within the ice,
    Setting their teeth unto the note of storks.
    Each one his countenance held downward bent;
    From mouth the cold, from eyes the doleful heart
    Among them witness of itself procures.
    When round about me somewhat I had looked,
    I downward turned me, and saw two so close,
    The hair upon their heads together mingled.
    "Ye who so strain your breasts together, tell me,"
    I said, "who are you;" and they bent their necks,
    And when to me their faces they had lifted,
    Their eyes, which first were only moist within,
    Gushed o'er the eyelids, and the frost congealed
    The tears between, and locked them up again.
    Clamp never bound together wood with wood
    So strongly; whereat they, like two he-goats,

    Butted together, so much wrath o'ercame them.
    And one, who had by reason of the cold
    Lost both his ears, still with his visage downward,
    Said: "Why dost thou so mirror thyself in us?
    If thou desire to know who these two are,
    The valley whence Bisenzio descends
    Belonged to them and to their father Albert.
    They from one body came, and all Caina
    Thou shalt search through, and shalt not find a shade
    More worthy to be fixed in gelatine;
    Not he in whom were
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