Page:Divine Comedy (Longfellow 1867) v1.djvu/230

"I think," said I to him, "thou dost deceive me;
For Branca d' Oria is not dead as yet, 140
And eats, and drinks, and sleeps, and puts on clothes."
"In moat above," said he, "of Malebranche,
There where is boiling the tenacious pitch,
As yet had Michel Zanche not arrived,
When this one left a devil in his stead 145
In his own body and one near of kin,
Who made together with him the betrayal.
But hitherward stretch out thy hand forthwith,
Open mine eyes";—and open them I did not,
And to be rude to him was courtesy. 150
Ah, Genoese! ye men at variance
With every virtue, full of every vice!
Wherefore are ye not scattered from the world?
For with the vilest spirit of Romagna
I found of you one such, who for his deeds 155
In soul already in Cocytus bathes,
And still above in body seems alive!