# Inferno Canto 24

*Exported from [Holy-Writings.com](https://www.holy-writings.com/) on 2026-06-19 — 1 clipping.*

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> Christianity Index  Divine Comedy Index  Previous: Inferno Canto 23  Next: Inferno Canto 25  
> 
> Canto XXIV
> 
> Argument
> 
>      Under the escort of his faithful master, Dante not without difficulty
> makes his way out of the sixth gulf; and in the seventh, sees the robbers
> tormented by venomous and pestilent serpents. The soul of Vanni Fucci, who had
> pillaged the sacristy of St. James in Pistoia, predicts some calamities that
> impended over that city, and over the Florentines.
> 
> In the year's early nonage,[1] when the sun
> Tempers his tresses in Aquarius' urn,
> And now toward equal day the nights recede;
> Whenas the rime upon the earth puts on
> Her dazzling sister's image, but not long
> Her milder sway endures; then riseth up
> The village hind, whom fails his wintry store,
> And looking out beholds the plain around
> All whiten'd; whence impatiently he smites
> His thighs, and to his hut returning in,
> There paces to and fro, wailing his lot,
> As a discomfited and helpless man;
> Then comes he forth again, and feels new hope
> Spring in his bosom, finding e'en thus soon
> The world hath changed its countenance, grasps his crook,
> And forth to pasture drives his little flock:
> So me my guide dishearten'd, when I saw
> His troubled forehead; and so speedily
> That ill was cured; for at the fallen bridge
> Arriving, toward me with a look as sweet,
> He turn'd him back, as that I first beheld
> At the steep mountain's foot. Regarding well
> The ruin, and some counsel first maintain'd
> With his own thought, he opened wide his arm
> And took me up. As one, who, while he works,
> Computes his labor's issue, that he seems
> Still to foresee the effect; so lifting me
> Up to the summit of one peak, he fix'd
> His eye upon another. "Grapple that,"
> Said he, "but first make proof, if it be such
> As will sustain thee." For one capt with lead
> 
> [1: At the latter part of January, when the sun enters Aquarius, and
> the equinox draws near, when the hoar - frosts in the morning often wear the
> appearance of snow, but are melted by the rising sun."]
> 
> This were no journey. Scarcely he, though light,
> And I, though onward push'd from crag to crag,
> Could mount. And if the precinct of this coast
> Were not less ample than the last, for him
> I know not, but my strength had surely fail'd.
> But Malebolge all toward the mouth
> Inclining of the nethermost abyss,
> The site of every valley hence requires,
> That one side upward slope, the other fall.
> 
> At length the point from whence the utmost stone
> Juts down, we reach'd; soon as to that arrived,
> So was the breath exhausted from my lungs
> I could no further, but did seat me there.
> 
> "Now needs thy best of man;" so spake my guide:
> "For not on downy plumes, nor under shade
> Of canopy reposing, fame is won;
> Without which whosoe'r consumes his days,
> Leaveth such vestige of himself on earth,
> As smoke in air or foam upon the wave.
> Thou therefore rise: vanquish thy weariness
> By the mind's effort, in each struggle form'd
> To vanquish, if she suffer not the weight
> Of her corporeal frame to crush her down.
> A longer ladder yet remains to scale.
> From these to have escaped sufficeth not,
> If well thou note me, profit by my words."
> 
> I straightway rose, and show'd myself less spent
> That I in truth did feel me. "On," I cried,
> "For I am stout and fearless." Up the rock
> Our way we held, more rugged than before,
> Narrower, and steeper far to climb. From talk
> I ceased not, as we journey'd, so to seem
> Least faint; whereat a voice from the other foss
> Did issue forth, for utterance suited ill.
> Though on the arch that crosses there I stood,
> What were the words I knew not, but who spake
> Seem'd moved in anger. Down I stoop'd to look;
> But my quick eye might reach not to the depth
> For shrouding darkness; wherefore thus I spake:
> "To the next circle, teacher, bend thy steps,
> And from the wall dismount we; for as hence
> I hear and understand not, so I see
> Beneath, and naught discern." "I answer not,"
> Said he, "but by the deed. To fair request
> Silent performance maketh best return."
> 
> We from the bridge's head descended, where
> To the eighth mound it joins; and then, the chasm
> Opening to view, I saw a crowd within
> Of serpents terrible, so strange of shape
> And hideous, that remembrance in my veins
> Yet shrinks the vital current. Of her sands
> Let Libya vaunt no more: if Jaculus,
> Pareas and Chelyder be her brood,
> Cenchris and Amphisbaena, plagues so dire
> Or in such numbers swarming ne'er she show'd,
> Not with all Ethiopia, and whate'er
> Above the Erythraean sea is spawn'd.
> 
> Amid this dread exuberance of woe
> Ran naked spirits wing'd with horrid fear,
> Nor hope had they of crevice where to hide,
> Or heliotrope to charm them out of view.
> With serpents were their hands behind them bound,
> Which through their reins infix'd the tail and head,
> Twisted in folds before. And lo! on one
> Near to our side, darted an adder up,
> And, where the neck is on the shoulders tied,
> Transpierced him. Far more quickly than e'er pen
> Wrote O or I, he kindled, burn'd, and changed
> To ashes all, pour'd out upon the earth.
> When there dissolved he lay, the dust again
> Uproll'd spontaneous, and the self - same form
> Instant resumed. So mighty sages tell,
> The Arabian Phoenix, when five hundred years
> Have well - nigh circled, dies, and springs forthwith
> Renascent: blade nor herb throughout his life
> He tastes, but tears of frankincense alone
> And odorous amomum: swaths of nard
> And myrrh his funeral shroud. As one that falls,
> He knows not how, by force demoniac dragg'd
> To earth, or through obstruction fettering up
> In chains invisible the powers of man,
> Who, risen from his trance, gazeth around,
> Bewilder'd with the monstrous agony
> He hath endured, and wildly staring sighs;
> So stood aghast the sinner when he rose.
> 
> Oh! how severe God's judgment, that deals out
> Such blows in stormy vengeance. Who he was,
> My teacher next inquired; and thus in few
> He answer'd: "Vanni Fucci[2] am I call'd,
> Not long since rained down from Tuscany
> To this dire gullet. Me the bestial life
> And not the human pleased, mule that I was,
> Who in Pistoia found my worthy den."
> 
> [2: Said to have been an illegitimate offspring of the family of
> Lazari in Pistoia, to have robbed the sacristy of the church of St. James in
> that city, and to have charged Vanni della Nona with the sacrilege; in
> consequence of which the latter suffered death.]
> 
> I then to Virgil: "Bid him stir not hence;
> And ask what crime did thrust him thither: once
> A man I knew him, choleric and bloody."
> 
> The sinner heard and feign'd not, but toward me
> His mind directing and his face, wherein
> Was dismal shame depictured, thus he spake:
> "It grieves me more to have been caught by thee
> In this sad plight, which thou beholdest, than
> When I was taken from the other life.
> I have no power permitted to deny
> What thou inquirest. I am doom'd thus low
> To dwell, for that the sacristy by me
> Was rifled of its goodly ornaments,
> And with the guilt another falsely charged.
> But that thou mayst not joy to see me thus,
> So as thou e'er shalt 'scape this darksome realm,
> Open thine ears and hear what I forebode.
> Reft of the Neri first Pistoia[3] pines;
> Then Florence[4] changeth citizens and laws;
> 
> [3: "In May, 1301, the Bianchi party of Pistoia, with the help of the
> Bianchi who ruled Florence, drove out the party of the Neri from the former
> place, destroying their houses, palaces, and farms."]
> 
> [4: "Then Florence." "Soon after the Bianchi wbll be expelled from
> Florence, the Neri will prevail, and the laws and people will be changed."]
> 
> From Valdimagra,[5] drawn by wrathful Mars,
> A vapor rises, wrapt in turbid mists,
> And sharp and eager driveth on the storm
> With Arrowy hurtling o'er Piceno's field,
> Whence suddenly the cloud shall burst, and strike
> Each helpless Bianco prostrate to the ground.
> This have I told, that grief may rend thy heart."
> 
> [5: Alluding to the victory obtained by the Marquis Morello Malaspina
> of Valdimagra, who put himself at the head of the Neri, and defeated their
> opponents the Bianchi, in the Campo Piceno near Pistoia, soon after the
> occurrence related in the preceding note on v. 142. Currado Malaspina is
> introduced in the eighth Canto of the Purgatory; where it appears, that
> although on the present occasion they espoused contrary sides, most important
> favors were nevertheless conferred by that family on our Poet, at a subsequent
> period of his exile, in 1307.]
>
> — *Inferno Canto 24*