Ugolino
INFERNO 33, 22-75.
Now had the loophole of that dungeon, still
Which bears the name of Famine's Tower from me,
And where ’tis fit that many another will
Be doomed to linger in captivity,
Shown through its narrow opening in my cell
‘Moon after moon slow waning’, when a sleep,
‘That of the future burst the veil, in dream
Visited me. It was a slumber deep
And evil; for I saw, or I did seem’
To see, ‘that’ tyrant Lord his revels keep
The leader of the cruel hunt to them,
Chasing the wolf and wolf-cubs up the steep
Ascent, that from ‘the Pisan is the screen’
Of ‘Lucca’; with him Gualandi came,
Sismondi, and Lanfranchi, ‘bloodhounds lean,
Trained to the sport and eager for the game
Wide ranging in his front;’ but soon were seen
Though by so short a course, with ‘spirits tame,’
The father and ‘his whelps’ to flag at once,
And then the sharp fangs gored their bosoms deep.
Ere morn I roused myself, and heard my sons,
For they were with me, moaning in their sleep,
And begging bread. Ah, for those darling ones!
Right cruel art thou, if thou dost not weep
In thinking of my soul’s sad augury;
And if thou weepest not now, weep never more!
They were already waked, as wont drew nigh
The allotted hour for food, and in that hour
Each drew a presage from his dream. When I
‘Heard locked beneath me of that horrible tower
The outlet; then into their eyes alone
I looked to read myself,’ without a sign
Or word. I wept not—turned within to stone.
They wept aloud, and little Anselm mine,
Said—’twas my youngest, dearest little one,--
“What ails thee, father? Why look so at thine?”
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poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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