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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/1005-0.txt b/1005-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8cae987 --- /dev/null +++ b/1005-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5344 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1005 *** + +HELL + +OR THE INFERNO FROM THE DIVINE COMEDY + +BY +Dante Alighieri + +Translated by +THE REV. H. F. CARY, M.A. + + +Contents + + CANTO I. + CANTO II. + CANTO III. + CANTO IV. + CANTO V. + CANTO VI. + CANTO VII. + CANTO VIII. + CANTO IX. + CANTO X. + CANTO XI. + CANTO XII. + CANTO XIII. + CANTO XIV. + CANTO XV. + CANTO XVI. + CANTO XVII. + CANTO XVIII. + CANTO XIX. + CANTO XX. + CANTO XXI. + CANTO XXII. + CANTO XXIII. + CANTO XXIV. + CANTO XXV. + CANTO XXVI. + CANTO XXVII. + CANTO XXVIII. + CANTO XXIX. + CANTO XXX. + CANTO XXXI. + CANTO XXXII. + CANTO XXXIII. + CANTO XXXIV. + + + + +HELL + + + + +CANTO I + + +In the midway of this our mortal life, +I found me in a gloomy wood, astray +Gone from the path direct: and e’en to tell +It were no easy task, how savage wild +That forest, how robust and rough its growth, +Which to remember only, my dismay +Renews, in bitterness not far from death. +Yet to discourse of what there good befell, +All else will I relate discover’d there. +How first I enter’d it I scarce can say, +Such sleepy dullness in that instant weigh’d +My senses down, when the true path I left, +But when a mountain’s foot I reach’d, where clos’d +The valley, that had pierc’d my heart with dread, +I look’d aloft, and saw his shoulders broad +Already vested with that planet’s beam, +Who leads all wanderers safe through every way. + +Then was a little respite to the fear, +That in my heart’s recesses deep had lain, +All of that night, so pitifully pass’d: +And as a man, with difficult short breath, +Forespent with toiling, ’scap’d from sea to shore, +Turns to the perilous wide waste, and stands +At gaze; e’en so my spirit, that yet fail’d +Struggling with terror, turn’d to view the straits, +That none hath pass’d and liv’d. My weary frame +After short pause recomforted, again +I journey’d on over that lonely steep, + +The hinder foot still firmer. Scarce the ascent +Began, when, lo! a panther, nimble, light, +And cover’d with a speckled skin, appear’d, +Nor, when it saw me, vanish’d, rather strove +To check my onward going; that ofttimes +With purpose to retrace my steps I turn’d. + +The hour was morning’s prime, and on his way +Aloft the sun ascended with those stars, +That with him rose, when Love divine first mov’d +Those its fair works: so that with joyous hope +All things conspir’d to fill me, the gay skin +Of that swift animal, the matin dawn +And the sweet season. Soon that joy was chas’d, +And by new dread succeeded, when in view +A lion came, ’gainst me, as it appear’d, + +With his head held aloft and hunger-mad, +That e’en the air was fear-struck. A she-wolf +Was at his heels, who in her leanness seem’d +Full of all wants, and many a land hath made +Disconsolate ere now. She with such fear +O’erwhelmed me, at the sight of her appall’d, +That of the height all hope I lost. As one, +Who with his gain elated, sees the time +When all unwares is gone, he inwardly +Mourns with heart-griping anguish; such was I, +Haunted by that fell beast, never at peace, +Who coming o’er against me, by degrees +Impell’d me where the sun in silence rests. + +While to the lower space with backward step +I fell, my ken discern’d the form one of one, +Whose voice seem’d faint through long disuse of speech. +When him in that great desert I espied, +“Have mercy on me!” cried I out aloud, +“Spirit! or living man! what e’er thou be!” + +He answer’d: “Now not man, man once I was, +And born of Lombard parents, Mantuana both +By country, when the power of Julius yet +Was scarcely firm. At Rome my life was past +Beneath the mild Augustus, in the time +Of fabled deities and false. A bard +Was I, and made Anchises’ upright son +The subject of my song, who came from Troy, +When the flames prey’d on Ilium’s haughty towers. +But thou, say wherefore to such perils past +Return’st thou? wherefore not this pleasant mount +Ascendest, cause and source of all delight?” +“And art thou then that Virgil, that well-spring, +From which such copious floods of eloquence +Have issued?” I with front abash’d replied. +“Glory and light of all the tuneful train! +May it avail me that I long with zeal +Have sought thy volume, and with love immense +Have conn’d it o’er. My master thou and guide! +Thou he from whom alone I have deriv’d +That style, which for its beauty into fame +Exalts me. See the beast, from whom I fled. +O save me from her, thou illustrious sage!” + +“For every vein and pulse throughout my frame +She hath made tremble.” He, soon as he saw +That I was weeping, answer’d, “Thou must needs +Another way pursue, if thou wouldst ’scape +From out that savage wilderness. This beast, +At whom thou criest, her way will suffer none +To pass, and no less hindrance makes than death: +So bad and so accursed in her kind, +That never sated is her ravenous will, +Still after food more craving than before. +To many an animal in wedlock vile +She fastens, and shall yet to many more, +Until that greyhound come, who shall destroy +Her with sharp pain. He will not life support +By earth nor its base metals, but by love, +Wisdom, and virtue, and his land shall be +The land ’twixt either Feltro. In his might +Shall safety to Italia’s plains arise, +For whose fair realm, Camilla, virgin pure, +Nisus, Euryalus, and Turnus fell. +He with incessant chase through every town +Shall worry, until he to hell at length +Restore her, thence by envy first let loose. +I for thy profit pond’ring now devise, +That thou mayst follow me, and I thy guide +Will lead thee hence through an eternal space, +Where thou shalt hear despairing shrieks, and see +Spirits of old tormented, who invoke +A second death; and those next view, who dwell +Content in fire, for that they hope to come, +Whene’er the time may be, among the blest, +Into whose regions if thou then desire +T’ ascend, a spirit worthier then I +Must lead thee, in whose charge, when I depart, +Thou shalt be left: for that Almighty King, +Who reigns above, a rebel to his law, +Adjudges me, and therefore hath decreed, +That to his city none through me should come. +He in all parts hath sway; there rules, there holds +His citadel and throne. O happy those, +Whom there he chooses!” I to him in few: +“Bard! by that God, whom thou didst not adore, +I do beseech thee (that this ill and worse +I may escape) to lead me, where thou saidst, +That I Saint Peter’s gate may view, and those +Who as thou tell’st, are in such dismal plight.” + +Onward he mov’d, I close his steps pursu’d. + + + + +CANTO II + + +Now was the day departing, and the air, +Imbrown’d with shadows, from their toils releas’d +All animals on earth; and I alone +Prepar’d myself the conflict to sustain, +Both of sad pity, and that perilous road, +Which my unerring memory shall retrace. + +O Muses! O high genius! now vouchsafe +Your aid! O mind! that all I saw hast kept +Safe in a written record, here thy worth +And eminent endowments come to proof. + +I thus began: “Bard! thou who art my guide, +Consider well, if virtue be in me +Sufficient, ere to this high enterprise +Thou trust me. Thou hast told that Silvius’ sire, +Yet cloth’d in corruptible flesh, among +Th’ immortal tribes had entrance, and was there +Sensible present. Yet if heaven’s great Lord, +Almighty foe to ill, such favour shew’d, +In contemplation of the high effect, +Both what and who from him should issue forth, +It seems in reason’s judgment well deserv’d: +Sith he of Rome, and of Rome’s empire wide, +In heaven’s empyreal height was chosen sire: +Both which, if truth be spoken, were ordain’d +And ’stablish’d for the holy place, where sits +Who to great Peter’s sacred chair succeeds. +He from this journey, in thy song renown’d, +Learn’d things, that to his victory gave rise +And to the papal robe. In after-times +The chosen vessel also travel’d there, +To bring us back assurance in that faith, +Which is the entrance to salvation’s way. +But I, why should I there presume? or who +Permits it? not, Aeneas I nor Paul. +Myself I deem not worthy, and none else +Will deem me. I, if on this voyage then +I venture, fear it will in folly end. +Thou, who art wise, better my meaning know’st, +Than I can speak.” As one, who unresolves +What he hath late resolv’d, and with new thoughts +Changes his purpose, from his first intent +Remov’d; e’en such was I on that dun coast, +Wasting in thought my enterprise, at first +So eagerly embrac’d. “If right thy words +I scan,” replied that shade magnanimous, +“Thy soul is by vile fear assail’d, which oft +So overcasts a man, that he recoils +From noblest resolution, like a beast +At some false semblance in the twilight gloom. +That from this terror thou mayst free thyself, +I will instruct thee why I came, and what +I heard in that same instant, when for thee +Grief touch’d me first. I was among the tribe, +Who rest suspended, when a dame, so blest +And lovely, I besought her to command, +Call’d me; her eyes were brighter than the star +Of day; and she with gentle voice and soft +Angelically tun’d her speech address’d: +“O courteous shade of Mantua! thou whose fame +Yet lives, and shall live long as nature lasts! +A friend, not of my fortune but myself, +On the wide desert in his road has met +Hindrance so great, that he through fear has turn’d. +Now much I dread lest he past help have stray’d, +And I be ris’n too late for his relief, +From what in heaven of him I heard. Speed now, +And by thy eloquent persuasive tongue, +And by all means for his deliverance meet, +Assist him. So to me will comfort spring. +I who now bid thee on this errand forth +Am Beatrice; from a place I come +Revisited with joy. Love brought me thence, +Who prompts my speech. When in my Master’s sight +I stand, thy praise to him I oft will tell.” + +(Note: Beatrice. I use this word, as it is +pronounced in the Italian, as consisting of four +syllables, of which the third is a long one.) + + +She then was silent, and I thus began: +“O Lady! by whose influence alone, +Mankind excels whatever is contain’d +Within that heaven which hath the smallest orb, +So thy command delights me, that to obey, +If it were done already, would seem late. +No need hast thou farther to speak thy will; +Yet tell the reason, why thou art not loth +To leave that ample space, where to return +Thou burnest, for this centre here beneath.” + +She then: “Since thou so deeply wouldst inquire, +I will instruct thee briefly, why no dread +Hinders my entrance here. Those things alone +Are to be fear’d, whence evil may proceed, +None else, for none are terrible beside. +I am so fram’d by God, thanks to his grace! +That any suff’rance of your misery +Touches me not, nor flame of that fierce fire +Assails me. In high heaven a blessed dame +Besides, who mourns with such effectual grief +That hindrance, which I send thee to remove, +That God’s stern judgment to her will inclines.” +To Lucia calling, her she thus bespake: +“Now doth thy faithful servant need thy aid +And I commend him to thee.” At her word +Sped Lucia, of all cruelty the foe, +And coming to the place, where I abode +Seated with Rachel, her of ancient days, +She thus address’d me: “Thou true praise of God! +Beatrice! why is not thy succour lent +To him, who so much lov’d thee, as to leave +For thy sake all the multitude admires? +Dost thou not hear how pitiful his wail, +Nor mark the death, which in the torrent flood, +Swoln mightier than a sea, him struggling holds?” +“Ne’er among men did any with such speed +Haste to their profit, flee from their annoy, +As when these words were spoken, I came here, +Down from my blessed seat, trusting the force +Of thy pure eloquence, which thee, and all +Who well have mark’d it, into honour brings.” + +“When she had ended, her bright beaming eyes +Tearful she turn’d aside; whereat I felt +Redoubled zeal to serve thee. As she will’d, +Thus am I come: I sav’d thee from the beast, +Who thy near way across the goodly mount +Prevented. What is this comes o’er thee then? +Why, why dost thou hang back? why in thy breast +Harbour vile fear? why hast not courage there +And noble daring? Since three maids so blest +Thy safety plan, e’en in the court of heaven; +And so much certain good my words forebode.” + +As florets, by the frosty air of night +Bent down and clos’d, when day has blanch’d their leaves, +Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems; +So was my fainting vigour new restor’d, +And to my heart such kindly courage ran, +That I as one undaunted soon replied: +“O full of pity she, who undertook +My succour! and thou kind who didst perform +So soon her true behest! With such desire +Thou hast dispos’d me to renew my voyage, +That my first purpose fully is resum’d. +Lead on: one only will is in us both. +Thou art my guide, my master thou, and lord.” + +So spake I; and when he had onward mov’d, +I enter’d on the deep and woody way. + + + + +CANTO III + + +“Through me you pass into the city of woe: +Through me you pass into eternal pain: +Through me among the people lost for aye. +Justice the founder of my fabric mov’d: +To rear me was the task of power divine, +Supremest wisdom, and primeval love. +Before me things create were none, save things +Eternal, and eternal I endure. + +“All hope abandon ye who enter here.” + +Such characters in colour dim I mark’d +Over a portal’s lofty arch inscrib’d: +Whereat I thus: “Master, these words import +Hard meaning.” He as one prepar’d replied: +“Here thou must all distrust behind thee leave; +Here be vile fear extinguish’d. We are come +Where I have told thee we shall see the souls +To misery doom’d, who intellectual good +Have lost.” And when his hand he had stretch’d forth +To mine, with pleasant looks, whence I was cheer’d, +Into that secret place he led me on. + +Here sighs with lamentations and loud moans +Resounded through the air pierc’d by no star, +That e’en I wept at entering. Various tongues, +Horrible languages, outcries of woe, +Accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse, +With hands together smote that swell’d the sounds, +Made up a tumult, that for ever whirls +Round through that air with solid darkness stain’d, +Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies. + +I then, with error yet encompass’d, cried: +“O master! What is this I hear? What race +Are these, who seem so overcome with woe?” + +He thus to me: “This miserable fate +Suffer the wretched souls of those, who liv’d +Without or praise or blame, with that ill band +Of angels mix’d, who nor rebellious prov’d +Nor yet were true to God, but for themselves +Were only. From his bounds Heaven drove them forth, +Not to impair his lustre, nor the depth +Of Hell receives them, lest th’ accursed tribe +Should glory thence with exultation vain.” + +I then: “Master! what doth aggrieve them thus, +That they lament so loud?” He straight replied: +“That will I tell thee briefly. These of death +No hope may entertain: and their blind life +So meanly passes, that all other lots +They envy. Fame of them the world hath none, +Nor suffers; mercy and justice scorn them both. +Speak not of them, but look, and pass them by.” + +And I, who straightway look’d, beheld a flag, +Which whirling ran around so rapidly, +That it no pause obtain’d: and following came +Such a long train of spirits, I should ne’er +Have thought, that death so many had despoil’d. + +When some of these I recogniz’d, I saw +And knew the shade of him, who to base fear +Yielding, abjur’d his high estate. Forthwith +I understood for certain this the tribe +Of those ill spirits both to God displeasing +And to his foes. These wretches, who ne’er lived, +Went on in nakedness, and sorely stung +By wasps and hornets, which bedew’d their cheeks +With blood, that mix’d with tears dropp’d to their feet, +And by disgustful worms was gather’d there. + +Then looking farther onwards I beheld +A throng upon the shore of a great stream: +Whereat I thus: “Sir! grant me now to know +Whom here we view, and whence impell’d they seem +So eager to pass o’er, as I discern +Through the blear light?” He thus to me in few: +“This shalt thou know, soon as our steps arrive +Beside the woeful tide of Acheron.” + +Then with eyes downward cast and fill’d with shame, +Fearing my words offensive to his ear, +Till we had reach’d the river, I from speech +Abstain’d. And lo! toward us in a bark +Comes on an old man hoary white with eld, + +Crying, “Woe to you wicked spirits! hope not +Ever to see the sky again. I come +To take you to the other shore across, +Into eternal darkness, there to dwell +In fierce heat and in ice. And thou, who there +Standest, live spirit! get thee hence, and leave +These who are dead.” But soon as he beheld +I left them not, “By other way,” said he, +“By other haven shalt thou come to shore, +Not by this passage; thee a nimbler boat +Must carry.” Then to him thus spake my guide: +“Charon! thyself torment not: so ’t is will’d, +Where will and power are one: ask thou no more.” + +Straightway in silence fell the shaggy cheeks +Of him the boatman o’er the livid lake, +Around whose eyes glar’d wheeling flames. Meanwhile +Those spirits, faint and naked, color chang’d, +And gnash’d their teeth, soon as the cruel words +They heard. God and their parents they blasphem’d, +The human kind, the place, the time, and seed +That did engender them and give them birth. + +Then all together sorely wailing drew +To the curs’d strand, that every man must pass +Who fears not God. Charon, demoniac form, +With eyes of burning coal, collects them all, +Beck’ning, and each, that lingers, with his oar +Strikes. As fall off the light autumnal leaves, +One still another following, till the bough +Strews all its honours on the earth beneath; + +E’en in like manner Adam’s evil brood +Cast themselves one by one down from the shore, +Each at a beck, as falcon at his call. + +Thus go they over through the umber’d wave, +And ever they on the opposing bank +Be landed, on this side another throng +Still gathers. “Son,” thus spake the courteous guide, +“Those, who die subject to the wrath of God, +All here together come from every clime, +And to o’erpass the river are not loth: +For so heaven’s justice goads them on, that fear +Is turn’d into desire. Hence ne’er hath past +Good spirit. If of thee Charon complain, +Now mayst thou know the import of his words.” + +This said, the gloomy region trembling shook +So terribly, that yet with clammy dews +Fear chills my brow. The sad earth gave a blast, +That, lightening, shot forth a vermilion flame, +Which all my senses conquer’d quite, and I +Down dropp’d, as one with sudden slumber seiz’d. + + + + +CANTO IV + + +Broke the deep slumber in my brain a crash +Of heavy thunder, that I shook myself, +As one by main force rous’d. Risen upright, +My rested eyes I mov’d around, and search’d +With fixed ken to know what place it was, +Wherein I stood. For certain on the brink +I found me of the lamentable vale, +The dread abyss, that joins a thund’rous sound +Of plaints innumerable. Dark and deep, +And thick with clouds o’erspread, mine eye in vain +Explor’d its bottom, nor could aught discern. + +“Now let us to the blind world there beneath +Descend;” the bard began all pale of look: +“I go the first, and thou shalt follow next.” + +Then I his alter’d hue perceiving, thus: +“How may I speed, if thou yieldest to dread, +Who still art wont to comfort me in doubt?” + +He then: “The anguish of that race below +With pity stains my cheek, which thou for fear +Mistakest. Let us on. Our length of way +Urges to haste.” Onward, this said, he mov’d; +And ent’ring led me with him on the bounds +Of the first circle, that surrounds th’ abyss. +Here, as mine ear could note, no plaint was heard +Except of sighs, that made th’ eternal air +Tremble, not caus’d by tortures, but from grief +Felt by those multitudes, many and vast, +Of men, women, and infants. Then to me +The gentle guide: “Inquir’st thou not what spirits +Are these, which thou beholdest? Ere thou pass +Farther, I would thou know, that these of sin +Were blameless; and if aught they merited, +It profits not, since baptism was not theirs, +The portal to thy faith. If they before +The Gospel liv’d, they serv’d not God aright; +And among such am I. For these defects, +And for no other evil, we are lost;” + +“Only so far afflicted, that we live +Desiring without hope.” So grief assail’d +My heart at hearing this, for well I knew +Suspended in that Limbo many a soul +Of mighty worth. “O tell me, sire rever’d! +Tell me, my master!” I began through wish +Of full assurance in that holy faith, +Which vanquishes all error; “say, did e’er +Any, or through his own or other’s merit, +Come forth from thence, whom afterward was blest?” + +Piercing the secret purport of my speech, +He answer’d: “I was new to that estate, +When I beheld a puissant one arrive +Amongst us, with victorious trophy crown’d. +He forth the shade of our first parent drew, +Abel his child, and Noah righteous man, +Of Moses lawgiver for faith approv’d, +Of patriarch Abraham, and David king, +Israel with his sire and with his sons, +Nor without Rachel whom so hard he won, +And others many more, whom he to bliss +Exalted. Before these, be thou assur’d, +No spirit of human kind was ever sav’d.” + +We, while he spake, ceas’d not our onward road, +Still passing through the wood; for so I name +Those spirits thick beset. We were not far +On this side from the summit, when I kenn’d +A flame, that o’er the darken’d hemisphere +Prevailing shin’d. Yet we a little space +Were distant, not so far but I in part +Discover’d, that a tribe in honour high +That place possess’d. “O thou, who every art +And science valu’st! who are these, that boast +Such honour, separate from all the rest?” + +He answer’d: “The renown of their great names +That echoes through your world above, acquires +Favour in heaven, which holds them thus advanc’d.” +Meantime a voice I heard: “Honour the bard +Sublime! his shade returns that left us late!” +No sooner ceas’d the sound, than I beheld +Four mighty spirits toward us bend their steps, +Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad. + +When thus my master kind began: “Mark him, +Who in his right hand bears that falchion keen, +The other three preceding, as their lord. +This is that Homer, of all bards supreme: +Flaccus the next in satire’s vein excelling; +The third is Naso; Lucan is the last. +Because they all that appellation own, +With which the voice singly accosted me, +Honouring they greet me thus, and well they judge.” + +So I beheld united the bright school +Of him the monarch of sublimest song, +That o’er the others like an eagle soars. +When they together short discourse had held, +They turn’d to me, with salutation kind +Beck’ning me; at the which my master smil’d: +Nor was this all; but greater honour still +They gave me, for they made me of their tribe; +And I was sixth amid so learn’d a band. + +Far as the luminous beacon on we pass’d +Speaking of matters, then befitting well +To speak, now fitter left untold. At foot +Of a magnificent castle we arriv’d, +Seven times with lofty walls begirt, and round +Defended by a pleasant stream. O’er this +As o’er dry land we pass’d. Next through seven gates +I with those sages enter’d, and we came +Into a mead with lively verdure fresh. + +There dwelt a race, who slow their eyes around +Majestically mov’d, and in their port +Bore eminent authority; they spake +Seldom, but all their words were tuneful sweet. + +We to one side retir’d, into a place +Open and bright and lofty, whence each one +Stood manifest to view. Incontinent +There on the green enamel of the plain +Were shown me the great spirits, by whose sight +I am exalted in my own esteem. + +Electra there I saw accompanied +By many, among whom Hector I knew, +Anchises’ pious son, and with hawk’s eye +Caesar all arm’d, and by Camilla there +Penthesilea. On the other side +Old King Latinus, seated by his child +Lavinia, and that Brutus I beheld, +Who Tarquin chas’d, Lucretia, Cato’s wife +Marcia, with Julia and Cornelia there; +And sole apart retir’d, the Soldan fierce. + +Then when a little more I rais’d my brow, +I spied the master of the sapient throng, +Seated amid the philosophic train. +Him all admire, all pay him rev’rence due. +There Socrates and Plato both I mark’d, +Nearest to him in rank; Democritus, +Who sets the world at chance, Diogenes, +With Heraclitus, and Empedocles, +And Anaxagoras, and Thales sage, +Zeno, and Dioscorides well read +In nature’s secret lore. Orpheus I mark’d +And Linus, Tully and moral Seneca, +Euclid and Ptolemy, Hippocrates, +Galenus, Avicen, and him who made +That commentary vast, Averroes. + +Of all to speak at full were vain attempt; +For my wide theme so urges, that ofttimes +My words fall short of what bechanc’d. In two +The six associates part. Another way +My sage guide leads me, from that air serene, +Into a climate ever vex’d with storms: +And to a part I come where no light shines. + + + + +CANTO V + + +From the first circle I descended thus +Down to the second, which, a lesser space +Embracing, so much more of grief contains +Provoking bitter moans. There, Minos stands +Grinning with ghastly feature: he, of all +Who enter, strict examining the crimes, + +Gives sentence, and dismisses them beneath, +According as he foldeth him around: +For when before him comes th’ ill fated soul, +It all confesses; and that judge severe +Of sins, considering what place in hell +Suits the transgression, with his tail so oft +Himself encircles, as degrees beneath +He dooms it to descend. Before him stand +Always a num’rous throng; and in his turn +Each one to judgment passing, speaks, and hears +His fate, thence downward to his dwelling hurl’d. + +“O thou! who to this residence of woe +Approachest?” when he saw me coming, cried +Minos, relinquishing his dread employ, +“Look how thou enter here; beware in whom +Thou place thy trust; let not the entrance broad +Deceive thee to thy harm.” To him my guide: +“Wherefore exclaimest? Hinder not his way +By destiny appointed; so ’tis will’d +Where will and power are one. Ask thou no more.” + +Now ’gin the rueful wailings to be heard. +Now am I come where many a plaining voice +Smites on mine ear. Into a place I came +Where light was silent all. Bellowing there groan’d +A noise as of a sea in tempest torn +By warring winds. The stormy blast of hell +With restless fury drives the spirits on +Whirl’d round and dash’d amain with sore annoy. + +When they arrive before the ruinous sweep, +There shrieks are heard, there lamentations, moans, +And blasphemies ’gainst the good Power in heaven. + +I understood that to this torment sad +The carnal sinners are condemn’d, in whom +Reason by lust is sway’d. As in large troops +And multitudinous, when winter reigns, +The starlings on their wings are borne abroad; +So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls. +On this side and on that, above, below, +It drives them: hope of rest to solace them +Is none, nor e’en of milder pang. As cranes, +Chanting their dol’rous notes, traverse the sky, +Stretch’d out in long array: so I beheld +Spirits, who came loud wailing, hurried on +By their dire doom. Then I: “Instructor! who +Are these, by the black air so scourg’d?”—“The first +’Mong those, of whom thou question’st,” he replied, +“O’er many tongues was empress. She in vice +Of luxury was so shameless, that she made +Liking be lawful by promulg’d decree, +To clear the blame she had herself incurr’d. +This is Semiramis, of whom ’tis writ, +That she succeeded Ninus her espous’d; +And held the land, which now the Soldan rules. +The next in amorous fury slew herself, +And to Sicheus’ ashes broke her faith: +Then follows Cleopatra, lustful queen.” + +There mark’d I Helen, for whose sake so long +The time was fraught with evil; there the great +Achilles, who with love fought to the end. +Paris I saw, and Tristan; and beside +A thousand more he show’d me, and by name +Pointed them out, whom love bereav’d of life. + +When I had heard my sage instructor name +Those dames and knights of antique days, o’erpower’d +By pity, well-nigh in amaze my mind +Was lost; and I began: “Bard! willingly +I would address those two together coming, +Which seem so light before the wind.” He thus: +“Note thou, when nearer they to us approach.” + +“Then by that love which carries them along, +Entreat; and they will come.” Soon as the wind +Sway’d them toward us, I thus fram’d my speech: +“O wearied spirits! come, and hold discourse +With us, if by none else restrain’d.” As doves +By fond desire invited, on wide wings +And firm, to their sweet nest returning home, +Cleave the air, wafted by their will along; +Thus issu’d from that troop, where Dido ranks, +They through the ill air speeding; with such force +My cry prevail’d by strong affection urg’d. + +“O gracious creature and benign! who go’st +Visiting, through this element obscure, +Us, who the world with bloody stain imbru’d; +If for a friend the King of all we own’d, +Our pray’r to him should for thy peace arise, +Since thou hast pity on our evil plight. +()f whatsoe’er to hear or to discourse +It pleases thee, that will we hear, of that +Freely with thee discourse, while e’er the wind, +As now, is mute. The land, that gave me birth, +Is situate on the coast, where Po descends +To rest in ocean with his sequent streams. + +“Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt, +Entangled him by that fair form, from me +Ta’en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still: +Love, that denial takes from none belov’d, +Caught me with pleasing him so passing well, +That, as thou see’st, he yet deserts me not. + +“Love brought us to one death: Caina waits +The soul, who spilt our life.” Such were their words; +At hearing which downward I bent my looks, +And held them there so long, that the bard cried: +“What art thou pond’ring?” I in answer thus: +“Alas! by what sweet thoughts, what fond desire +Must they at length to that ill pass have reach’d!” + +Then turning, I to them my speech address’d. +And thus began: “Francesca! your sad fate +Even to tears my grief and pity moves. +But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs, +By what, and how love granted, that ye knew +Your yet uncertain wishes?” She replied: +“No greater grief than to remember days +Of joy, when mis’ry is at hand! That kens +Thy learn’d instructor. Yet so eagerly +If thou art bent to know the primal root, +From whence our love gat being, I will do, +As one, who weeps and tells his tale. One day +For our delight we read of Lancelot, +How him love thrall’d. Alone we were, and no +Suspicion near us. Ofttimes by that reading +Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue +Fled from our alter’d cheek. But at one point +Alone we fell. When of that smile we read, +The wished smile, rapturously kiss’d +By one so deep in love, then he, who ne’er +From me shall separate, at once my lips +All trembling kiss’d. The book and writer both +Were love’s purveyors. In its leaves that day +We read no more.” While thus one spirit spake, +The other wail’d so sorely, that heartstruck +I through compassion fainting, seem’d not far +From death, and like a corpse fell to the ground. + + + + +CANTO VI + + +My sense reviving, that erewhile had droop’d +With pity for the kindred shades, whence grief +O’ercame me wholly, straight around I see +New torments, new tormented souls, which way +Soe’er I move, or turn, or bend my sight. +In the third circle I arrive, of show’rs +Ceaseless, accursed, heavy, and cold, unchang’d +For ever, both in kind and in degree. +Large hail, discolour’d water, sleety flaw +Through the dun midnight air stream’d down amain: +Stank all the land whereon that tempest fell. + +Cerberus, cruel monster, fierce and strange, +Through his wide threefold throat barks as a dog +Over the multitude immers’d beneath. +His eyes glare crimson, black his unctuous beard, +His belly large, and claw’d the hands, with which +He tears the spirits, flays them, and their limbs +Piecemeal disparts. Howling there spread, as curs, +Under the rainy deluge, with one side +The other screening, oft they roll them round, +A wretched, godless crew. When that great worm +Descried us, savage Cerberus, he op’d +His jaws, and the fangs show’d us; not a limb +Of him but trembled. Then my guide, his palms +Expanding on the ground, thence filled with earth +Rais’d them, and cast it in his ravenous maw. + +E’en as a dog, that yelling bays for food +His keeper, when the morsel comes, lets fall +His fury, bent alone with eager haste +To swallow it; so dropp’d the loathsome cheeks +Of demon Cerberus, who thund’ring stuns +The spirits, that they for deafness wish in vain. + +We, o’er the shades thrown prostrate by the brunt +Of the heavy tempest passing, set our feet +Upon their emptiness, that substance seem’d. + +They all along the earth extended lay +Save one, that sudden rais’d himself to sit, +Soon as that way he saw us pass. “O thou!” +He cried, “who through the infernal shades art led, +Own, if again thou know’st me. Thou wast fram’d +Or ere my frame was broken.” I replied: +“The anguish thou endur’st perchance so takes +Thy form from my remembrance, that it seems +As if I saw thee never. But inform +Me who thou art, that in a place so sad +Art set, and in such torment, that although +Other be greater, more disgustful none +Can be imagin’d.” He in answer thus: + +“Thy city heap’d with envy to the brim, +Ay that the measure overflows its bounds, +Held me in brighter days. Ye citizens +Were wont to name me Ciacco. For the sin +Of glutt’ny, damned vice, beneath this rain, +E’en as thou see’st, I with fatigue am worn; +Nor I sole spirit in this woe: all these +Have by like crime incurr’d like punishment.” + +No more he said, and I my speech resum’d: +“Ciacco! thy dire affliction grieves me much, +Even to tears. But tell me, if thou know’st, +What shall at length befall the citizens +Of the divided city; whether any just one +Inhabit there: and tell me of the cause, +Whence jarring discord hath assail’d it thus?” + +He then: “After long striving they will come +To blood; and the wild party from the woods +Will chase the other with much injury forth. +Then it behoves, that this must fall, within +Three solar circles; and the other rise +By borrow’d force of one, who under shore +Now rests. It shall a long space hold aloof +Its forehead, keeping under heavy weight +The other oppress’d, indignant at the load, +And grieving sore. The just are two in number, +But they neglected. Av’rice, envy, pride, +Three fatal sparks, have set the hearts of all +On fire.” Here ceas’d the lamentable sound; +And I continu’d thus: “Still would I learn +More from thee, farther parley still entreat. +Of Farinata and Tegghiaio say, +They who so well deserv’d, of Giacopo, +Arrigo, Mosca, and the rest, who bent +Their minds on working good. Oh! tell me where +They bide, and to their knowledge let me come. +For I am press’d with keen desire to hear, +If heaven’s sweet cup or poisonous drug of hell +Be to their lip assign’d.” He answer’d straight: +“These are yet blacker spirits. Various crimes +Have sunk them deeper in the dark abyss. +If thou so far descendest, thou mayst see them. +But to the pleasant world when thou return’st, +Of me make mention, I entreat thee, there. +No more I tell thee, answer thee no more.” + +This said, his fixed eyes he turn’d askance, +A little ey’d me, then bent down his head, +And ’midst his blind companions with it fell. + +When thus my guide: “No more his bed he leaves, +Ere the last angel-trumpet blow. The Power +Adverse to these shall then in glory come, +Each one forthwith to his sad tomb repair, +Resume his fleshly vesture and his form, +And hear the eternal doom re-echoing rend +The vault.” So pass’d we through that mixture foul +Of spirits and rain, with tardy steps; meanwhile +Touching, though slightly, on the life to come. +For thus I question’d: “Shall these tortures, Sir! +When the great sentence passes, be increas’d, +Or mitigated, or as now severe?” + +He then: “Consult thy knowledge; that decides +That as each thing to more perfection grows, +It feels more sensibly both good and pain. +Though ne’er to true perfection may arrive +This race accurs’d, yet nearer then than now +They shall approach it.” Compassing that path +Circuitous we journeyed, and discourse +Much more than I relate between us pass’d: +Till at the point, where the steps led below, +Arriv’d, there Plutus, the great foe, we found. + + + + +CANTO VII + + +“Ah me! O Satan! Satan!” loud exclaim’d +Plutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm: +And the kind sage, whom no event surpris’d, +To comfort me thus spake: “Let not thy fear +Harm thee, for power in him, be sure, is none +To hinder down this rock thy safe descent.” +Then to that sworn lip turning, “Peace!” he cried, + +“Curs’d wolf! thy fury inward on thyself +Prey, and consume thee! Through the dark profound +Not without cause he passes. So ’t is will’d +On high, there where the great Archangel pour’d +Heav’n’s vengeance on the first adulterer proud.” + +As sails full spread and bellying with the wind +Drop suddenly collaps’d, if the mast split; +So to the ground down dropp’d the cruel fiend. + +Thus we, descending to the fourth steep ledge, +Gain’d on the dismal shore, that all the woe +Hems in of all the universe. Ah me! +Almighty Justice! in what store thou heap’st +New pains, new troubles, as I here beheld! +Wherefore doth fault of ours bring us to this? + +E’en as a billow, on Charybdis rising, +Against encounter’d billow dashing breaks; +Such is the dance this wretched race must lead, +Whom more than elsewhere numerous here I found, +From one side and the other, with loud voice, +Both roll’d on weights by main forge of their breasts, +Then smote together, and each one forthwith +Roll’d them back voluble, turning again, +Exclaiming these, “Why holdest thou so fast?” +Those answering, “And why castest thou away?” +So still repeating their despiteful song, +They to the opposite point on either hand +Travers’d the horrid circle: then arriv’d, +Both turn’d them round, and through the middle space +Conflicting met again. At sight whereof +I, stung with grief, thus spake: “O say, my guide! +What race is this? Were these, whose heads are shorn, +On our left hand, all sep’rate to the church?” + +He straight replied: “In their first life these all +In mind were so distorted, that they made, +According to due measure, of their wealth, +No use. This clearly from their words collect, +Which they howl forth, at each extremity +Arriving of the circle, where their crime +Contrary’ in kind disparts them. To the church +Were separate those, that with no hairy cowls +Are crown’d, both Popes and Cardinals, o’er whom +Av’rice dominion absolute maintains.” + +I then: “Mid such as these some needs must be, +Whom I shall recognize, that with the blot +Of these foul sins were stain’d.” He answering thus: +“Vain thought conceiv’st thou. That ignoble life, +Which made them vile before, now makes them dark, +And to all knowledge indiscernible. +Forever they shall meet in this rude shock: +These from the tomb with clenched grasp shall rise, +Those with close-shaven locks. That ill they gave, +And ill they kept, hath of the beauteous world +Depriv’d, and set them at this strife, which needs +No labour’d phrase of mine to set if off. +Now may’st thou see, my son! how brief, how vain, +The goods committed into fortune’s hands, +For which the human race keep such a coil! +Not all the gold, that is beneath the moon, +Or ever hath been, of these toil-worn souls +Might purchase rest for one.” I thus rejoin’d: + +“My guide! of thee this also would I learn; +This fortune, that thou speak’st of, what it is, +Whose talons grasp the blessings of the world?” + +He thus: “O beings blind! what ignorance +Besets you? Now my judgment hear and mark. +He, whose transcendent wisdom passes all, +The heavens creating, gave them ruling powers +To guide them, so that each part shines to each, +Their light in equal distribution pour’d. +By similar appointment he ordain’d +Over the world’s bright images to rule. +Superintendence of a guiding hand +And general minister, which at due time +May change the empty vantages of life +From race to race, from one to other’s blood, +Beyond prevention of man’s wisest care: +Wherefore one nation rises into sway, +Another languishes, e’en as her will +Decrees, from us conceal’d, as in the grass +The serpent train. Against her nought avails +Your utmost wisdom. She with foresight plans, +Judges, and carries on her reign, as theirs +The other powers divine. Her changes know +Nore intermission: by necessity +She is made swift, so frequent come who claim +Succession in her favours. This is she, +So execrated e’en by those, whose debt +To her is rather praise; they wrongfully +With blame requite her, and with evil word; +But she is blessed, and for that recks not: +Amidst the other primal beings glad +Rolls on her sphere, and in her bliss exults. +Now on our way pass we, to heavier woe +Descending: for each star is falling now, +That mounted at our entrance, and forbids +Too long our tarrying.” We the circle cross’d +To the next steep, arriving at a well, +That boiling pours itself down to a foss +Sluic’d from its source. Far murkier was the wave +Than sablest grain: and we in company +Of the’ inky waters, journeying by their side, +Enter’d, though by a different track, beneath. +Into a lake, the Stygian nam’d, expands +The dismal stream, when it hath reach’d the foot +Of the grey wither’d cliffs. Intent I stood +To gaze, and in the marish sunk descried +A miry tribe, all naked, and with looks +Betok’ning rage. They with their hands alone +Struck not, but with the head, the breast, the feet, +Cutting each other piecemeal with their fangs. + +The good instructor spake; “Now seest thou, son! +The souls of those, whom anger overcame. +This too for certain know, that underneath +The water dwells a multitude, whose sighs +Into these bubbles make the surface heave, +As thine eye tells thee wheresoe’er it turn.” +Fix’d in the slime they say: “Sad once were we +In the sweet air made gladsome by the sun, +Carrying a foul and lazy mist within: +Now in these murky settlings are we sad.” +Such dolorous strain they gurgle in their throats. +But word distinct can utter none.” Our route +Thus compass’d we, a segment widely stretch’d +Between the dry embankment, and the core +Of the loath’d pool, turning meanwhile our eyes +Downward on those who gulp’d its muddy lees; +Nor stopp’d, till to a tower’s low base we came. + + + + +CANTO VIII + + +My theme pursuing, I relate that ere +We reach’d the lofty turret’s base, our eyes +Its height ascended, where two cressets hung +We mark’d, and from afar another light +Return the signal, so remote, that scarce +The eye could catch its beam. I turning round +To the deep source of knowledge, thus inquir’d: +“Say what this means? and what that other light +In answer set? what agency doth this?” + +“There on the filthy waters,” he replied, +“E’en now what next awaits us mayst thou see, +If the marsh-gender’d fog conceal it not.” + +Never was arrow from the cord dismiss’d, +That ran its way so nimbly through the air, +As a small bark, that through the waves I spied +Toward us coming, under the sole sway +Of one that ferried it, who cried aloud: +“Art thou arriv’d, fell spirit?”—“Phlegyas, Phlegyas, +This time thou criest in vain,” my lord replied; +“No longer shalt thou have us, but while o’er +The slimy pool we pass.” As one who hears +Of some great wrong he hath sustain’d, whereat +Inly he pines; so Phlegyas inly pin’d +In his fierce ire. My guide descending stepp’d +Into the skiff, and bade me enter next +Close at his side; nor till my entrance seem’d +The vessel freighted. Soon as both embark’d, +Cutting the waves, goes on the ancient prow, +More deeply than with others it is wont. + +While we our course o’er the dead channel held. +One drench’d in mire before me came, and said; +“Who art thou, that thou comest ere thine hour?” + +I answer’d: “Though I come, I tarry not; +But who art thou, that art become so foul?” + +“One, as thou seest, who mourn:” he straight replied. + +To which I thus: “In mourning and in woe, +Curs’d spirit! tarry thou.g I know thee well, +E’en thus in filth disguis’d.” Then stretch’d he forth +Hands to the bark; whereof my teacher sage +Aware, thrusting him back: “Away! down there; + +“To the’ other dogs!” then, with his arms my neck +Encircling, kiss’d my cheek, and spake: “O soul +Justly disdainful! blest was she in whom +Thou was conceiv’d! He in the world was one +For arrogance noted; to his memory +No virtue lends its lustre; even so +Here is his shadow furious. There above +How many now hold themselves mighty kings +Who here like swine shall wallow in the mire, +Leaving behind them horrible dispraise!” + +I then: “Master! him fain would I behold +Whelm’d in these dregs, before we quit the lake.” + +He thus: “Or ever to thy view the shore +Be offer’d, satisfied shall be that wish, +Which well deserves completion.” Scarce his words +Were ended, when I saw the miry tribes +Set on him with such violence, that yet +For that render I thanks to God and praise +“To Filippo Argenti:” cried they all: +And on himself the moody Florentine +Turn’d his avenging fangs. Him here we left, +Nor speak I of him more. But on mine ear +Sudden a sound of lamentation smote, +Whereat mine eye unbarr’d I sent abroad. + +And thus the good instructor: “Now, my son! +Draws near the city, that of Dis is nam’d, +With its grave denizens, a mighty throng.” + +I thus: “The minarets already, Sir! +There certes in the valley I descry, +Gleaming vermilion, as if they from fire +Had issu’d.” He replied: “Eternal fire, +That inward burns, shows them with ruddy flame +Illum’d; as in this nether hell thou seest.” + +We came within the fosses deep, that moat +This region comfortless. The walls appear’d +As they were fram’d of iron. We had made +Wide circuit, ere a place we reach’d, where loud +The mariner cried vehement: “Go forth! +The’ entrance is here!” Upon the gates I spied +More than a thousand, who of old from heaven +Were hurl’d. With ireful gestures, “Who is this,” +They cried, “that without death first felt, goes through +The regions of the dead?” My sapient guide +Made sign that he for secret parley wish’d; +Whereat their angry scorn abating, thus +They spake: “Come thou alone; and let him go +Who hath so hardily enter’d this realm. +Alone return he by his witless way; +If well he know it, let him prove. For thee, +Here shalt thou tarry, who through clime so dark +Hast been his escort.” Now bethink thee, reader! +What cheer was mine at sound of those curs’d words. +I did believe I never should return. + +“O my lov’d guide! who more than seven times +Security hast render’d me, and drawn +From peril deep, whereto I stood expos’d, +Desert me not,” I cried, “in this extreme. +And if our onward going be denied, +Together trace we back our steps with speed.” + +My liege, who thither had conducted me, +Replied: “Fear not: for of our passage none +Hath power to disappoint us, by such high +Authority permitted. But do thou +Expect me here; meanwhile thy wearied spirit +Comfort, and feed with kindly hope, assur’d +I will not leave thee in this lower world.” + +This said, departs the sire benevolent, +And quits me. Hesitating I remain +At war ’twixt will and will not in my thoughts. + +I could not hear what terms he offer’d them, +But they conferr’d not long, for all at once +To trial fled within. Clos’d were the gates +By those our adversaries on the breast +Of my liege lord: excluded he return’d +To me with tardy steps. Upon the ground +His eyes were bent, and from his brow eras’d +All confidence, while thus with sighs he spake: +“Who hath denied me these abodes of woe?” +Then thus to me: “That I am anger’d, think +No ground of terror: in this trial I +Shall vanquish, use what arts they may within +For hindrance. This their insolence, not new, +Erewhile at gate less secret they display’d, +Which still is without bolt; upon its arch +Thou saw’st the deadly scroll: and even now +On this side of its entrance, down the steep, +Passing the circles, unescorted, comes +One whose strong might can open us this land.” + + + + +CANTO IX + + +The hue, which coward dread on my pale cheeks +Imprinted, when I saw my guide turn back, +Chas’d that from his which newly they had worn, +And inwardly restrain’d it. He, as one +Who listens, stood attentive: for his eye +Not far could lead him through the sable air, +And the thick-gath’ring cloud. “It yet behooves +We win this fight”—thus he began—“if not— +Such aid to us is offer’d.—Oh, how long +Me seems it, ere the promis’d help arrive!” + +I noted, how the sequel of his words +Clok’d their beginning; for the last he spake +Agreed not with the first. But not the less +My fear was at his saying; sith I drew +To import worse perchance, than that he held, +His mutilated speech. “Doth ever any +Into this rueful concave’s extreme depth +Descend, out of the first degree, whose pain +Is deprivation merely of sweet hope?” + +Thus I inquiring. “Rarely,” he replied, +“It chances, that among us any makes +This journey, which I wend. Erewhile ’tis true +Once came I here beneath, conjur’d by fell +Erictho, sorceress, who compell’d the shades +Back to their bodies. No long space my flesh +Was naked of me, when within these walls +She made me enter, to draw forth a spirit +From out of Judas’ circle. Lowest place +Is that of all, obscurest, and remov’d +Farthest from heav’n’s all-circling orb. The road +Full well I know: thou therefore rest secure. +That lake, the noisome stench exhaling, round +The city’ of grief encompasses, which now +We may not enter without rage.” Yet more +He added: but I hold it not in mind, +For that mine eye toward the lofty tower +Had drawn me wholly, to its burning top. +Where in an instant I beheld uprisen +At once three hellish furies stain’d with blood: +In limb and motion feminine they seem’d; +Around them greenest hydras twisting roll’d +Their volumes; adders and cerastes crept +Instead of hair, and their fierce temples bound. + +He knowing well the miserable hags +Who tend the queen of endless woe, thus spake: + +“Mark thou each dire Erinnys. To the left +This is Megaera; on the right hand she, +Who wails, Alecto; and Tisiphone +I’ th’ midst.” This said, in silence he remain’d +Their breast they each one clawing tore; themselves +Smote with their palms, and such shrill clamour rais’d, +That to the bard I clung, suspicion-bound. +“Hasten Medusa: so to adamant +Him shall we change;” all looking down exclaim’d. +“E’en when by Theseus’ might assail’d, we took +No ill revenge.” “Turn thyself round, and keep +Thy count’nance hid; for if the Gorgon dire +Be shown, and thou shouldst view it, thy return +Upwards would be for ever lost.” This said, +Himself my gentle master turn’d me round, +Nor trusted he my hands, but with his own +He also hid me. Ye of intellect +Sound and entire, mark well the lore conceal’d +Under close texture of the mystic strain! + +And now there came o’er the perturbed waves +Loud-crashing, terrible, a sound that made +Either shore tremble, as if of a wind +Impetuous, from conflicting vapours sprung, +That ’gainst some forest driving all its might, +Plucks off the branches, beats them down and hurls +Afar; then onward passing proudly sweeps +Its whirlwind rage, while beasts and shepherds fly. + +Mine eyes he loos’d, and spake: “And now direct +Thy visual nerve along that ancient foam, +There, thickest where the smoke ascends.” As frogs +Before their foe the serpent, through the wave +Ply swiftly all, till at the ground each one +Lies on a heap; more than a thousand spirits +Destroy’d, so saw I fleeing before one +Who pass’d with unwet feet the Stygian sound. +He, from his face removing the gross air, +Oft his left hand forth stretch’d, and seem’d alone +By that annoyance wearied. I perceiv’d +That he was sent from heav’n, and to my guide +Turn’d me, who signal made that I should stand +Quiet, and bend to him. Ah me! how full +Of noble anger seem’d he! To the gate +He came, and with his wand touch’d it, whereat +Open without impediment it flew. + +“Outcasts of heav’n! O abject race and scorn’d!” +Began he on the horrid grunsel standing, +“Whence doth this wild excess of insolence +Lodge in you? wherefore kick you ’gainst that will +Ne’er frustrate of its end, and which so oft +Hath laid on you enforcement of your pangs? +What profits at the fays to but the horn? +Your Cerberus, if ye remember, hence +Bears still, peel’d of their hair, his throat and maw.” + +This said, he turn’d back o’er the filthy way, +And syllable to us spake none, but wore +The semblance of a man by other care +Beset, and keenly press’d, than thought of him +Who in his presence stands. Then we our steps +Toward that territory mov’d, secure +After the hallow’d words. We unoppos’d +There enter’d; and my mind eager to learn +What state a fortress like to that might hold, +I soon as enter’d throw mine eye around, +And see on every part wide-stretching space +Replete with bitter pain and torment ill. + +As where Rhone stagnates on the plains of Arles, +Or as at Pola, near Quarnaro’s gulf, +That closes Italy and laves her bounds, +The place is all thick spread with sepulchres; +So was it here, save what in horror here +Excell’d: for ’midst the graves were scattered flames, +Wherewith intensely all throughout they burn’d, +That iron for no craft there hotter needs. + +Their lids all hung suspended, and beneath +From them forth issu’d lamentable moans, +Such as the sad and tortur’d well might raise. + +I thus: “Master! say who are these, interr’d +Within these vaults, of whom distinct we hear +The dolorous sighs?” He answer thus return’d: + +“The arch-heretics are here, accompanied +By every sect their followers; and much more, +Than thou believest, tombs are freighted: like +With like is buried; and the monuments +Are different in degrees of heat.” This said, +He to the right hand turning, on we pass’d +Betwixt the afflicted and the ramparts high. + + + + +CANTO X + + +Now by a secret pathway we proceed, +Between the walls, that hem the region round, +And the tormented souls: my master first, +I close behind his steps. “Virtue supreme!” +I thus began; “who through these ample orbs +In circuit lead’st me, even as thou will’st, +Speak thou, and satisfy my wish. May those, +Who lie within these sepulchres, be seen? +Already all the lids are rais’d, and none +O’er them keeps watch.” He thus in answer spake +“They shall be closed all, what-time they here +From Josaphat return’d shall come, and bring +Their bodies, which above they now have left. +The cemetery on this part obtain +With Epicurus all his followers, +Who with the body make the spirit die. +Here therefore satisfaction shall be soon +Both to the question ask’d, and to the wish, +Which thou conceal’st in silence.” I replied: +“I keep not, guide belov’d! from thee my heart +Secreted, but to shun vain length of words, +A lesson erewhile taught me by thyself.” + +“O Tuscan! thou who through the city of fire +Alive art passing, so discreet of speech! +Here please thee stay awhile. Thy utterance +Declares the place of thy nativity +To be that noble land, with which perchance +I too severely dealt.” Sudden that sound +Forth issu’d from a vault, whereat in fear +I somewhat closer to my leader’s side +Approaching, he thus spake: “What dost thou? Turn. +Lo, Farinata, there! who hath himself +Uplifted: from his girdle upwards all +Expos’d behold him.” On his face was mine +Already fix’d; his breast and forehead there +Erecting, seem’d as in high scorn he held +E’en hell. Between the sepulchres to him +My guide thrust me with fearless hands and prompt, +This warning added: “See thy words be clear!” + +He, soon as there I stood at the tomb’s foot, +Ey’d me a space, then in disdainful mood +Address’d me: “Say, what ancestors were thine?” + +I, willing to obey him, straight reveal’d +The whole, nor kept back aught: whence he, his brow +Somewhat uplifting, cried: “Fiercely were they +Adverse to me, my party, and the blood +From whence I sprang: twice therefore I abroad +Scatter’d them.” “Though driv’n out, yet they each time +From all parts,” answer’d I, “return’d; an art +Which yours have shown, they are not skill’d to learn.” + +Then, peering forth from the unclosed jaw, +Rose from his side a shade, high as the chin, +Leaning, methought, upon its knees uprais’d. +It look’d around, as eager to explore +If there were other with me; but perceiving +That fond imagination quench’d, with tears +Thus spake: “If thou through this blind prison go’st. +Led by thy lofty genius and profound, +Where is my son? and wherefore not with thee?” + +I straight replied: “Not of myself I come, +By him, who there expects me, through this clime +Conducted, whom perchance Guido thy son +Had in contempt.” Already had his words +And mode of punishment read me his name, +Whence I so fully answer’d. He at once +Exclaim’d, up starting, “How! said’st thou he HAD? +No longer lives he? Strikes not on his eye +The blessed daylight?” Then of some delay +I made ere my reply aware, down fell +Supine, not after forth appear’d he more. + +Meanwhile the other, great of soul, near whom +I yet was station’d, chang’d not count’nance stern, +Nor mov’d the neck, nor bent his ribbed side. +“And if,” continuing the first discourse, +“They in this art,” he cried, “small skill have shown, +That doth torment me more e’en than this bed. +But not yet fifty times shall be relum’d +Her aspect, who reigns here Queen of this realm, +Ere thou shalt know the full weight of that art. +So to the pleasant world mayst thou return, +As thou shalt tell me, why in all their laws, +Against my kin this people is so fell?” + +“The slaughter and great havoc,” I replied, +“That colour’d Arbia’s flood with crimson stain— +To these impute, that in our hallow’d dome +Such orisons ascend.” Sighing he shook +The head, then thus resum’d: “In that affray +I stood not singly, nor without just cause +Assuredly should with the rest have stirr’d; +But singly there I stood, when by consent +Of all, Florence had to the ground been raz’d, +The one who openly forbad the deed.” + +“So may thy lineage find at last repose,” +I thus adjur’d him, “as thou solve this knot, +Which now involves my mind. If right I hear, +Ye seem to view beforehand, that which time +Leads with him, of the present uninform’d.” + +“We view, as one who hath an evil sight,” +He answer’d, “plainly, objects far remote: +So much of his large spendour yet imparts +The’ Almighty Ruler; but when they approach +Or actually exist, our intellect +Then wholly fails, nor of your human state +Except what others bring us know we aught. +Hence therefore mayst thou understand, that all +Our knowledge in that instant shall expire, +When on futurity the portals close.” + +Then conscious of my fault, and by remorse +Smitten, I added thus: “Now shalt thou say +To him there fallen, that his offspring still +Is to the living join’d; and bid him know, +That if from answer silent I abstain’d, +’Twas that my thought was occupied intent +Upon that error, which thy help hath solv’d.” + +But now my master summoning me back +I heard, and with more eager haste besought +The spirit to inform me, who with him +Partook his lot. He answer thus return’d: + +“More than a thousand with me here are laid +Within is Frederick, second of that name, +And the Lord Cardinal, and of the rest +I speak not.” He, this said, from sight withdrew. +But I my steps towards the ancient bard +Reverting, ruminated on the words +Betokening me such ill. Onward he mov’d, +And thus in going question’d: “Whence the’ amaze +That holds thy senses wrapt?” I satisfied +The’ inquiry, and the sage enjoin’d me straight: +“Let thy safe memory store what thou hast heard +To thee importing harm; and note thou this,” +With his rais’d finger bidding me take heed, + +“When thou shalt stand before her gracious beam, +Whose bright eye all surveys, she of thy life +The future tenour will to thee unfold.” + +Forthwith he to the left hand turn’d his feet: +We left the wall, and tow’rds the middle space +Went by a path, that to a valley strikes; +Which e’en thus high exhal’d its noisome steam. + + + + +CANTO XI + + +Upon the utmost verge of a high bank, +By craggy rocks environ’d round, we came, +Where woes beneath more cruel yet were stow’d: +And here to shun the horrible excess +Of fetid exhalation, upward cast +From the profound abyss, behind the lid +Of a great monument we stood retir’d, + +Whereon this scroll I mark’d: “I have in charge +Pope Anastasius, whom Photinus drew +From the right path.—Ere our descent behooves +We make delay, that somewhat first the sense, +To the dire breath accustom’d, afterward +Regard it not.” My master thus; to whom +Answering I spake: “Some compensation find +That the time past not wholly lost.” He then: +“Lo! how my thoughts e’en to thy wishes tend! +My son! within these rocks,” he thus began, +“Are three close circles in gradation plac’d, +As these which now thou leav’st. Each one is full +Of spirits accurs’d; but that the sight alone +Hereafter may suffice thee, listen how +And for what cause in durance they abide. + +“Of all malicious act abhorr’d in heaven, +The end is injury; and all such end +Either by force or fraud works other’s woe +But fraud, because of man peculiar evil, +To God is more displeasing; and beneath +The fraudulent are therefore doom’d to’ endure +Severer pang. The violent occupy +All the first circle; and because to force +Three persons are obnoxious, in three rounds +Hach within other sep’rate is it fram’d. +To God, his neighbour, and himself, by man +Force may be offer’d; to himself I say +And his possessions, as thou soon shalt hear +At full. Death, violent death, and painful wounds +Upon his neighbour he inflicts; and wastes +By devastation, pillage, and the flames, +His substance. Slayers, and each one that smites +In malice, plund’rers, and all robbers, hence +The torment undergo of the first round +In different herds. Man can do violence +To himself and his own blessings: and for this +He in the second round must aye deplore +With unavailing penitence his crime, +Whoe’er deprives himself of life and light, +In reckless lavishment his talent wastes, +And sorrows there where he should dwell in joy. +To God may force be offer’d, in the heart +Denying and blaspheming his high power, +And nature with her kindly law contemning. +And thence the inmost round marks with its seal +Sodom and Cahors, and all such as speak +Contemptuously’ of the Godhead in their hearts. + +“Fraud, that in every conscience leaves a sting, +May be by man employ’d on one, whose trust +He wins, or on another who withholds +Strict confidence. Seems as the latter way +Broke but the bond of love which Nature makes. +Whence in the second circle have their nest +Dissimulation, witchcraft, flatteries, +Theft, falsehood, simony, all who seduce +To lust, or set their honesty at pawn, +With such vile scum as these. The other way +Forgets both Nature’s general love, and that +Which thereto added afterwards gives birth +To special faith. Whence in the lesser circle, +Point of the universe, dread seat of Dis, +The traitor is eternally consum’d.” + +I thus: “Instructor, clearly thy discourse +Proceeds, distinguishing the hideous chasm +And its inhabitants with skill exact. +But tell me this: they of the dull, fat pool, +Whom the rain beats, or whom the tempest drives, +Or who with tongues so fierce conflicting meet, +Wherefore within the city fire-illum’d +Are not these punish’d, if God’s wrath be on them? +And if it be not, wherefore in such guise +Are they condemned?” He answer thus return’d: +“Wherefore in dotage wanders thus thy mind, +Not so accustom’d? or what other thoughts +Possess it? Dwell not in thy memory +The words, wherein thy ethic page describes +Three dispositions adverse to Heav’n’s will, +Incont’nence, malice, and mad brutishness, +And how incontinence the least offends +God, and least guilt incurs? If well thou note +This judgment, and remember who they are, +Without these walls to vain repentance doom’d, +Thou shalt discern why they apart are plac’d +From these fell spirits, and less wreakful pours +Justice divine on them its vengeance down.” + +“O Sun! who healest all imperfect sight, +Thou so content’st me, when thou solv’st my doubt, +That ignorance not less than knowledge charms. +Yet somewhat turn thee back,” I in these words +Continu’d, “where thou saidst, that usury +Offends celestial Goodness; and this knot +Perplex’d unravel.” He thus made reply: +“Philosophy, to an attentive ear, +Clearly points out, not in one part alone, +How imitative nature takes her course +From the celestial mind and from its art: +And where her laws the Stagyrite unfolds, +Not many leaves scann’d o’er, observing well +Thou shalt discover, that your art on her +Obsequious follows, as the learner treads +In his instructor’s step, so that your art +Deserves the name of second in descent +From God. These two, if thou recall to mind +Creation’s holy book, from the beginning +Were the right source of life and excellence +To human kind. But in another path +The usurer walks; and Nature in herself +And in her follower thus he sets at nought, +Placing elsewhere his hope. But follow now +My steps on forward journey bent; for now +The Pisces play with undulating glance +Along the’ horizon, and the Wain lies all +O’er the north-west; and onward there a space +Is our steep passage down the rocky height.” + + + + +CANTO XII + + +The place where to descend the precipice +We came, was rough as Alp, and on its verge +Such object lay, as every eye would shun. + +As is that ruin, which Adice’s stream +On this side Trento struck, should’ring the wave, +Or loos’d by earthquake or for lack of prop; +For from the mountain’s summit, whence it mov’d +To the low level, so the headlong rock +Is shiver’d, that some passage it might give +To him who from above would pass; e’en such +Into the chasm was that descent: and there +At point of the disparted ridge lay stretch’d +The infamy of Crete, detested brood +Of the feign’d heifer: and at sight of us +It gnaw’d itself, as one with rage distract. + +To him my guide exclaim’d: “Perchance thou deem’st +The King of Athens here, who, in the world +Above, thy death contriv’d. Monster! avaunt! +He comes not tutor’d by thy sister’s art, +But to behold your torments is he come.” + +Like to a bull, that with impetuous spring +Darts, at the moment when the fatal blow +Hath struck him, but unable to proceed +Plunges on either side; so saw I plunge +The Minotaur; whereat the sage exclaim’d: +“Run to the passage! while he storms, ’t is well +That thou descend.” Thus down our road we took +Through those dilapidated crags, that oft +Mov’d underneath my feet, to weight like theirs +Unus’d. I pond’ring went, and thus he spake: + +“Perhaps thy thoughts are of this ruin’d steep, +Guarded by the brute violence, which I +Have vanquish’d now. Know then, that when I erst +Hither descended to the nether hell, +This rock was not yet fallen. But past doubt +(If well I mark) not long ere He arrived, +Who carried off from Dis the mighty spoil +Of the highest circle, then through all its bounds +Such trembling seiz’d the deep concave and foul, +I thought the universe was thrill’d with love, +Whereby, there are who deem, the world hath oft +Been into chaos turn’d: and in that point, +Here, and elsewhere, that old rock toppled down. +But fix thine eyes beneath: the river of blood +Approaches, in the which all those are steep’d, +Who have by violence injur’d.” O blind lust! +O foolish wrath! who so dost goad us on +In the brief life, and in the eternal then +Thus miserably o’erwhelm us. I beheld +An ample foss, that in a bow was bent, +As circling all the plain; for so my guide +Had told. Between it and the rampart’s base +On trail ran Centaurs, with keen arrows arm’d, +As to the chase they on the earth were wont. + +At seeing us descend they each one stood; +And issuing from the troop, three sped with bows +And missile weapons chosen first; of whom +One cried from far: “Say to what pain ye come +Condemn’d, who down this steep have journied? Speak +From whence ye stand, or else the bow I draw.” + +To whom my guide: “Our answer shall be made +To Chiron, there, when nearer him we come. +Ill was thy mind, thus ever quick and rash.” + +Then me he touch’d, and spake: “Nessus is this, +Who for the fair Deianira died, +And wrought himself revenge for his own fate. +He in the midst, that on his breast looks down, +Is the great Chiron who Achilles nurs’d; +That other Pholus, prone to wrath.” Around +The foss these go by thousands, aiming shafts +At whatsoever spirit dares emerge +From out the blood, more than his guilt allows. + +We to those beasts, that rapid strode along, +Drew near, when Chiron took an arrow forth, +And with the notch push’d back his shaggy beard +To the cheek-bone, then his great mouth to view +Exposing, to his fellows thus exclaim’d: +“Are ye aware, that he who comes behind +Moves what he touches? The feet of the dead +Are not so wont.” My trusty guide, who now +Stood near his breast, where the two natures join, +Thus made reply: “He is indeed alive, +And solitary so must needs by me +Be shown the gloomy vale, thereto induc’d +By strict necessity, not by delight. +She left her joyful harpings in the sky, +Who this new office to my care consign’d. +He is no robber, no dark spirit I. +But by that virtue, which empowers my step +To treat so wild a path, grant us, I pray, +One of thy band, whom we may trust secure, +Who to the ford may lead us, and convey +Across, him mounted on his back; for he +Is not a spirit that may walk the air.” + +Then on his right breast turning, Chiron thus +To Nessus spake: “Return, and be their guide. +And if ye chance to cross another troop, +Command them keep aloof.” Onward we mov’d, +The faithful escort by our side, along +The border of the crimson-seething flood, +Whence from those steep’d within loud shrieks arose. + +Some there I mark’d, as high as to their brow +Immers’d, of whom the mighty Centaur thus: +“These are the souls of tyrants, who were given +To blood and rapine. Here they wail aloud +Their merciless wrongs. Here Alexander dwells, +And Dionysius fell, who many a year +Of woe wrought for fair Sicily. That brow +Whereon the hair so jetty clust’ring hangs, +Is Azzolino; that with flaxen locks +Obizzo’ of Este, in the world destroy’d +By his foul step-son.” To the bard rever’d +I turned me round, and thus he spake; “Let him +Be to thee now first leader, me but next +To him in rank.” Then farther on a space +The Centaur paus’d, near some, who at the throat +Were extant from the wave; and showing us +A spirit by itself apart retir’d, +Exclaim’d: “He in God’s bosom smote the heart, +Which yet is honour’d on the bank of Thames.” + +A race I next espied, who held the head, +And even all the bust above the stream. +’Midst these I many a face remember’d well. +Thus shallow more and more the blood became, +So that at last it but imbru’d the feet; +And there our passage lay athwart the foss. + +“As ever on this side the boiling wave +Thou seest diminishing,” the Centaur said, +“So on the other, be thou well assur’d, +It lower still and lower sinks its bed, +Till in that part it reuniting join, +Where ’t is the lot of tyranny to mourn. +There Heav’n’s stern justice lays chastising hand +On Attila, who was the scourge of earth, +On Sextus, and on Pyrrhus, and extracts +Tears ever by the seething flood unlock’d +From the Rinieri, of Corneto this, +Pazzo the other nam’d, who fill’d the ways +With violence and war.” This said, he turn’d, +And quitting us, alone repass’d the ford. + + + + +CANTO XIII + + +Ere Nessus yet had reach’d the other bank, +We enter’d on a forest, where no track +Of steps had worn a way. Not verdant there +The foliage, but of dusky hue; not light +The boughs and tapering, but with knares deform’d +And matted thick: fruits there were none, but thorns +Instead, with venom fill’d. Less sharp than these, +Less intricate the brakes, wherein abide +Those animals, that hate the cultur’d fields, +Betwixt Corneto and Cecina’s stream. + +Here the brute Harpies make their nest, the same +Who from the Strophades the Trojan band +Drove with dire boding of their future woe. +Broad are their pennons, of the human form +Their neck and count’nance, arm’d with talons keen +The feet, and the huge belly fledge with wings +These sit and wail on the drear mystic wood. + +The kind instructor in these words began: +“Ere farther thou proceed, know thou art now +I’ th’ second round, and shalt be, till thou come +Upon the horrid sand: look therefore well +Around thee, and such things thou shalt behold, +As would my speech discredit.” On all sides +I heard sad plainings breathe, and none could see +From whom they might have issu’d. In amaze +Fast bound I stood. He, as it seem’d, believ’d, +That I had thought so many voices came +From some amid those thickets close conceal’d, +And thus his speech resum’d: “If thou lop off +A single twig from one of those ill plants, +The thought thou hast conceiv’d shall vanish quite.” + +Thereat a little stretching forth my hand, +From a great wilding gather’d I a branch, +And straight the trunk exclaim’d: “Why pluck’st thou me?” + +Then as the dark blood trickled down its side, +These words it added: “Wherefore tear’st me thus? +Is there no touch of mercy in thy breast? +Men once were we, that now are rooted here. +Thy hand might well have spar’d us, had we been +The souls of serpents.” As a brand yet green, +That burning at one end from the’ other sends +A groaning sound, and hisses with the wind +That forces out its way, so burst at once, +Forth from the broken splinter words and blood. + +I, letting fall the bough, remain’d as one +Assail’d by terror, and the sage replied: +“If he, O injur’d spirit! could have believ’d +What he hath seen but in my verse describ’d, +He never against thee had stretch’d his hand. +But I, because the thing surpass’d belief, +Prompted him to this deed, which even now +Myself I rue. But tell me, who thou wast; +That, for this wrong to do thee some amends, +In the upper world (for thither to return +Is granted him) thy fame he may revive.” + +“That pleasant word of thine,” the trunk replied +“Hath so inveigled me, that I from speech +Cannot refrain, wherein if I indulge +A little longer, in the snare detain’d, +Count it not grievous. I it was, who held +Both keys to Frederick’s heart, and turn’d the wards, +Opening and shutting, with a skill so sweet, +That besides me, into his inmost breast +Scarce any other could admittance find. +The faith I bore to my high charge was such, +It cost me the life-blood that warm’d my veins. +The harlot, who ne’er turn’d her gloating eyes +From Caesar’s household, common vice and pest +Of courts, ’gainst me inflam’d the minds of all; +And to Augustus they so spread the flame, +That my glad honours chang’d to bitter woes. +My soul, disdainful and disgusted, sought +Refuge in death from scorn, and I became, +Just as I was, unjust toward myself. +By the new roots, which fix this stem, I swear, +That never faith I broke to my liege lord, +Who merited such honour; and of you, +If any to the world indeed return, +Clear he from wrong my memory, that lies +Yet prostrate under envy’s cruel blow.” + +First somewhat pausing, till the mournful words +Were ended, then to me the bard began: +“Lose not the time; but speak and of him ask, +If more thou wish to learn.” Whence I replied: +“Question thou him again of whatsoe’er +Will, as thou think’st, content me; for no power +Have I to ask, such pity’ is at my heart.” + +He thus resum’d; “So may he do for thee +Freely what thou entreatest, as thou yet +Be pleas’d, imprison’d Spirit! to declare, +How in these gnarled joints the soul is tied; +And whether any ever from such frame +Be loosen’d, if thou canst, that also tell.” + +Thereat the trunk breath’d hard, and the wind soon +Chang’d into sounds articulate like these; + +“Briefly ye shall be answer’d. When departs +The fierce soul from the body, by itself +Thence torn asunder, to the seventh gulf +By Minos doom’d, into the wood it falls, +No place assign’d, but wheresoever chance +Hurls it, there sprouting, as a grain of spelt, +It rises to a sapling, growing thence +A savage plant. The Harpies, on its leaves +Then feeding, cause both pain and for the pain +A vent to grief. We, as the rest, shall come +For our own spoils, yet not so that with them +We may again be clad; for what a man +Takes from himself it is not just he have. +Here we perforce shall drag them; and throughout +The dismal glade our bodies shall be hung, +Each on the wild thorn of his wretched shade.” + +Attentive yet to listen to the trunk +We stood, expecting farther speech, when us +A noise surpris’d, as when a man perceives +The wild boar and the hunt approach his place +Of station’d watch, who of the beasts and boughs +Loud rustling round him hears. And lo! there came +Two naked, torn with briers, in headlong flight, +That they before them broke each fan o’ th’ wood. +“Haste now,” the foremost cried, “now haste thee death!” + +The’ other, as seem’d, impatient of delay +Exclaiming, “Lano! not so bent for speed +Thy sinews, in the lists of Toppo’s field.” +And then, for that perchance no longer breath +Suffic’d him, of himself and of a bush +One group he made. Behind them was the wood +Full of black female mastiffs, gaunt and fleet, +As greyhounds that have newly slipp’d the leash. +On him, who squatted down, they stuck their fangs, +And having rent him piecemeal bore away +The tortur’d limbs. My guide then seiz’d my hand, +And led me to the thicket, which in vain +Mourn’d through its bleeding wounds: “O Giacomo +Of Sant’ Andrea! what avails it thee,” +It cried, “that of me thou hast made thy screen? +For thy ill life what blame on me recoils?” + +When o’er it he had paus’d, my master spake: +“Say who wast thou, that at so many points +Breath’st out with blood thy lamentable speech?” + +He answer’d: “Oh, ye spirits: arriv’d in time +To spy the shameful havoc, that from me +My leaves hath sever’d thus, gather them up, +And at the foot of their sad parent-tree +Carefully lay them. In that city’ I dwelt, +Who for the Baptist her first patron chang’d, +Whence he for this shall cease not with his art +To work her woe: and if there still remain’d not +On Arno’s passage some faint glimpse of him, +Those citizens, who rear’d once more her walls +Upon the ashes left by Attila, +Had labour’d without profit of their toil. +I slung the fatal noose from my own roof.” + + + + +CANTO XIV + + +Soon as the charity of native land +Wrought in my bosom, I the scatter’d leaves +Collected, and to him restor’d, who now +Was hoarse with utt’rance. To the limit thence +We came, which from the third the second round +Divides, and where of justice is display’d +Contrivance horrible. Things then first seen +Clearlier to manifest, I tell how next +A plain we reach’d, that from its sterile bed +Each plant repell’d. The mournful wood waves round +Its garland on all sides, as round the wood +Spreads the sad foss. There, on the very edge, +Our steps we stay’d. It was an area wide +Of arid sand and thick, resembling most +The soil that erst by Cato’s foot was trod. + +Vengeance of Heav’n! Oh! how shouldst thou be fear’d +By all, who read what here my eyes beheld! + +Of naked spirits many a flock I saw, +All weeping piteously, to different laws +Subjected: for on the’ earth some lay supine, +Some crouching close were seated, others pac’d +Incessantly around; the latter tribe, +More numerous, those fewer who beneath +The torment lay, but louder in their grief. + +O’er all the sand fell slowly wafting down +Dilated flakes of fire, as flakes of snow +On Alpine summit, when the wind is hush’d. +As in the torrid Indian clime, the son +Of Ammon saw upon his warrior band +Descending, solid flames, that to the ground +Came down: whence he bethought him with his troop +To trample on the soil; for easier thus +The vapour was extinguish’d, while alone; +So fell the eternal fiery flood, wherewith +The marble glow’d underneath, as under stove +The viands, doubly to augment the pain. + +Unceasing was the play of wretched hands, +Now this, now that way glancing, to shake off +The heat, still falling fresh. I thus began: +“Instructor! thou who all things overcom’st, +Except the hardy demons, that rush’d forth +To stop our entrance at the gate, say who +Is yon huge spirit, that, as seems, heeds not +The burning, but lies writhen in proud scorn, +As by the sultry tempest immatur’d?” + +Straight he himself, who was aware I ask’d +My guide of him, exclaim’d: “Such as I was +When living, dead such now I am. If Jove +Weary his workman out, from whom in ire +He snatch’d the lightnings, that at my last day +Transfix’d me, if the rest be weary out +At their black smithy labouring by turns +In Mongibello, while he cries aloud; +“Help, help, good Mulciber!” as erst he cried +In the Phlegraean warfare, and the bolts +Launch he full aim’d at me with all his might, +He never should enjoy a sweet revenge.” + +Then thus my guide, in accent higher rais’d +Than I before had heard him: “Capaneus! +Thou art more punish’d, in that this thy pride +Lives yet unquench’d: no torrent, save thy rage, +Were to thy fury pain proportion’d full.” + +Next turning round to me with milder lip +He spake: “This of the seven kings was one, +Who girt the Theban walls with siege, and held, +As still he seems to hold, God in disdain, +And sets his high omnipotence at nought. +But, as I told him, his despiteful mood +Is ornament well suits the breast that wears it. +Follow me now; and look thou set not yet +Thy foot in the hot sand, but to the wood +Keep ever close.” Silently on we pass’d +To where there gushes from the forest’s bound +A little brook, whose crimson’d wave yet lifts +My hair with horror. As the rill, that runs +From Bulicame, to be portion’d out +Among the sinful women; so ran this +Down through the sand, its bottom and each bank +Stone-built, and either margin at its side, +Whereon I straight perceiv’d our passage lay. + +“Of all that I have shown thee, since that gate +We enter’d first, whose threshold is to none +Denied, nought else so worthy of regard, +As is this river, has thine eye discern’d, +O’er which the flaming volley all is quench’d.” + +So spake my guide; and I him thence besought, +That having giv’n me appetite to know, +The food he too would give, that hunger crav’d. + +“In midst of ocean,” forthwith he began, +“A desolate country lies, which Crete is nam’d, +Under whose monarch in old times the world +Liv’d pure and chaste. A mountain rises there, +Call’d Ida, joyous once with leaves and streams, +Deserted now like a forbidden thing. +It was the spot which Rhea, Saturn’s spouse, +Chose for the secret cradle of her son; +And better to conceal him, drown’d in shouts +His infant cries. Within the mount, upright +An ancient form there stands and huge, that turns +His shoulders towards Damiata, and at Rome +As in his mirror looks. Of finest gold +His head is shap’d, pure silver are the breast +And arms; thence to the middle is of brass. +And downward all beneath well-temper’d steel, +Save the right foot of potter’s clay, on which +Than on the other more erect he stands, +Each part except the gold, is rent throughout; +And from the fissure tears distil, which join’d +Penetrate to that cave. They in their course +Thus far precipitated down the rock +Form Acheron, and Styx, and Phlegethon; +Then by this straiten’d channel passing hence +Beneath, e’en to the lowest depth of all, +Form there Cocytus, of whose lake (thyself +Shall see it) I here give thee no account.” + +Then I to him: “If from our world this sluice +Be thus deriv’d; wherefore to us but now +Appears it at this edge?” He straight replied: +“The place, thou know’st, is round; and though great part +Thou have already pass’d, still to the left +Descending to the nethermost, not yet +Hast thou the circuit made of the whole orb. +Wherefore if aught of new to us appear, +It needs not bring up wonder in thy looks.” + +Then I again inquir’d: “Where flow the streams +Of Phlegethon and Lethe? for of one +Thou tell’st not, and the other of that shower, +Thou say’st, is form’d.” He answer thus return’d: +“Doubtless thy questions all well pleas’d I hear. +Yet the red seething wave might have resolv’d +One thou proposest. Lethe thou shalt see, +But not within this hollow, in the place, +Whither to lave themselves the spirits go, +Whose blame hath been by penitence remov’d.” +He added: “Time is now we quit the wood. +Look thou my steps pursue: the margins give +Safe passage, unimpeded by the flames; +For over them all vapour is extinct.” + + + + +CANTO XV + + +One of the solid margins bears us now +Envelop’d in the mist, that from the stream +Arising, hovers o’er, and saves from fire +Both piers and water. As the Flemings rear +Their mound, ’twixt Ghent and Bruges, to chase back +The ocean, fearing his tumultuous tide +That drives toward them, or the Paduans theirs +Along the Brenta, to defend their towns +And castles, ere the genial warmth be felt +On Chiarentana’s top; such were the mounds, +So fram’d, though not in height or bulk to these +Made equal, by the master, whosoe’er +He was, that rais’d them here. We from the wood +Were not so far remov’d, that turning round +I might not have discern’d it, when we met +A troop of spirits, who came beside the pier. + +They each one ey’d us, as at eventide +One eyes another under a new moon, +And toward us sharpen’d their sight as keen, +As an old tailor at his needle’s eye. + +Thus narrowly explor’d by all the tribe, +I was agniz’d of one, who by the skirt +Caught me, and cried, “What wonder have we here!” + +And I, when he to me outstretch’d his arm, +Intently fix’d my ken on his parch’d looks, +That although smirch’d with fire, they hinder’d not +But I remember’d him; and towards his face +My hand inclining, answer’d: “Sir! Brunetto! + +“And art thou here?” He thus to me: “My son! +Oh let it not displease thee, if Brunetto +Latini but a little space with thee +Turn back, and leave his fellows to proceed.” + +I thus to him replied: “Much as I can, +I thereto pray thee; and if thou be willing, +That I here seat me with thee, I consent; +His leave, with whom I journey, first obtain’d.” + +“O son!” said he, “whoever of this throng +One instant stops, lies then a hundred years, +No fan to ventilate him, when the fire +Smites sorest. Pass thou therefore on. I close +Will at thy garments walk, and then rejoin +My troop, who go mourning their endless doom.” + +I dar’d not from the path descend to tread +On equal ground with him, but held my head +Bent down, as one who walks in reverent guise. + +“What chance or destiny,” thus he began, +“Ere the last day conducts thee here below? +And who is this, that shows to thee the way?” + +“There up aloft,” I answer’d, “in the life +Serene, I wander’d in a valley lost, +Before mine age had to its fullness reach’d. +But yester-morn I left it: then once more +Into that vale returning, him I met; +And by this path homeward he leads me back.” + +“If thou,” he answer’d, “follow but thy star, +Thou canst not miss at last a glorious haven: +Unless in fairer days my judgment err’d. +And if my fate so early had not chanc’d, +Seeing the heav’ns thus bounteous to thee, I +Had gladly giv’n thee comfort in thy work. +But that ungrateful and malignant race, +Who in old times came down from Fesole, +Ay and still smack of their rough mountain-flint, +Will for thy good deeds shew thee enmity. +Nor wonder; for amongst ill-savour’d crabs +It suits not the sweet fig-tree lay her fruit. +Old fame reports them in the world for blind, +Covetous, envious, proud. Look to it well: +Take heed thou cleanse thee of their ways. For thee +Thy fortune hath such honour in reserve, +That thou by either party shalt be crav’d +With hunger keen: but be the fresh herb far +From the goat’s tooth. The herd of Fesole +May of themselves make litter, not touch the plant, +If any such yet spring on their rank bed, +In which the holy seed revives, transmitted +From those true Romans, who still there remain’d, +When it was made the nest of so much ill.” + +“Were all my wish fulfill’d,” I straight replied, +“Thou from the confines of man’s nature yet +Hadst not been driven forth; for in my mind +Is fix’d, and now strikes full upon my heart +The dear, benign, paternal image, such +As thine was, when so lately thou didst teach me +The way for man to win eternity; +And how I priz’d the lesson, it behooves, +That, long as life endures, my tongue should speak, +What of my fate thou tell’st, that write I down: +And with another text to comment on +For her I keep it, the celestial dame, +Who will know all, if I to her arrive. +This only would I have thee clearly note: +That so my conscience have no plea against me; +Do fortune as she list, I stand prepar’d. +Not new or strange such earnest to mine ear. +Speed fortune then her wheel, as likes her best, +The clown his mattock; all things have their course.” + +Thereat my sapient guide upon his right +Turn’d himself back, then look’d at me and spake: +“He listens to good purpose who takes note.” + +I not the less still on my way proceed, +Discoursing with Brunetto, and inquire +Who are most known and chief among his tribe. + +“To know of some is well;” thus he replied, +“But of the rest silence may best beseem. +Time would not serve us for report so long. +In brief I tell thee, that all these were clerks, +Men of great learning and no less renown, +By one same sin polluted in the world. +With them is Priscian, and Accorso’s son +Francesco herds among that wretched throng: +And, if the wish of so impure a blotch +Possess’d thee, him thou also might’st have seen, +Who by the servants’ servant was transferr’d +From Arno’s seat to Bacchiglione, where +His ill-strain’d nerves he left. I more would add, +But must from farther speech and onward way +Alike desist, for yonder I behold +A mist new-risen on the sandy plain. +A company, with whom I may not sort, +Approaches. I commend my TREASURE to thee, +Wherein I yet survive; my sole request.” + +This said he turn’d, and seem’d as one of those, +Who o’er Verona’s champain try their speed +For the green mantle, and of them he seem’d, +Not he who loses but who gains the prize. + + + + +CANTO XVI + + +Now came I where the water’s din was heard, +As down it fell into the other round, +Resounding like the hum of swarming bees: +When forth together issu’d from a troop, +That pass’d beneath the fierce tormenting storm, +Three spirits, running swift. They towards us came, +And each one cried aloud, “Oh do thou stay! +Whom by the fashion of thy garb we deem +To be some inmate of our evil land.” + +Ah me! what wounds I mark’d upon their limbs, +Recent and old, inflicted by the flames! +E’en the remembrance of them grieves me yet. + +Attentive to their cry my teacher paus’d, +And turn’d to me his visage, and then spake; +“Wait now! our courtesy these merit well: +And were ’t not for the nature of the place, +Whence glide the fiery darts, I should have said, +That haste had better suited thee than them.” + +They, when we stopp’d, resum’d their ancient wail, +And soon as they had reach’d us, all the three +Whirl’d round together in one restless wheel. +As naked champions, smear’d with slippery oil, +Are wont intent to watch their place of hold +And vantage, ere in closer strife they meet; +Thus each one, as he wheel’d, his countenance +At me directed, so that opposite +The neck mov’d ever to the twinkling feet. + +“If misery of this drear wilderness,” +Thus one began, “added to our sad cheer +And destitute, do call forth scorn on us +And our entreaties, let our great renown +Incline thee to inform us who thou art, +That dost imprint with living feet unharm’d +The soil of Hell. He, in whose track thou see’st +My steps pursuing, naked though he be +And reft of all, was of more high estate +Than thou believest; grandchild of the chaste +Gualdrada, him they Guidoguerra call’d, +Who in his lifetime many a noble act +Achiev’d, both by his wisdom and his sword. +The other, next to me that beats the sand, +Is Aldobrandi, name deserving well, +In the’ upper world, of honour; and myself +Who in this torment do partake with them, +Am Rusticucci, whom, past doubt, my wife +Of savage temper, more than aught beside +Hath to this evil brought.” If from the fire +I had been shelter’d, down amidst them straight +I then had cast me, nor my guide, I deem, +Would have restrain’d my going; but that fear +Of the dire burning vanquish’d the desire, +Which made me eager of their wish’d embrace. + +I then began: “Not scorn, but grief much more, +Such as long time alone can cure, your doom +Fix’d deep within me, soon as this my lord +Spake words, whose tenour taught me to expect +That such a race, as ye are, was at hand. +I am a countryman of yours, who still +Affectionate have utter’d, and have heard +Your deeds and names renown’d. Leaving the gall +For the sweet fruit I go, that a sure guide +Hath promis’d to me. But behooves, that far +As to the centre first I downward tend.” + +“So may long space thy spirit guide thy limbs,” +He answer straight return’d; “and so thy fame +Shine bright, when thou art gone; as thou shalt tell, +If courtesy and valour, as they wont, +Dwell in our city, or have vanish’d clean? +For one amidst us late condemn’d to wail, +Borsiere, yonder walking with his peers, +Grieves us no little by the news he brings.” + +“An upstart multitude and sudden gains, +Pride and excess, O Florence! have in thee +Engender’d, so that now in tears thou mourn’st!” +Thus cried I with my face uprais’d, and they +All three, who for an answer took my words, +Look’d at each other, as men look when truth +Comes to their ear. “If thou at other times,” +They all at once rejoin’d, “so easily +Satisfy those, who question, happy thou, +Gifted with words, so apt to speak thy thought! +Wherefore if thou escape this darksome clime, +Returning to behold the radiant stars, +When thou with pleasure shalt retrace the past, +See that of us thou speak among mankind.” + +This said, they broke the circle, and so swift +Fled, that as pinions seem’d their nimble feet. + +Not in so short a time might one have said +“Amen,” as they had vanish’d. Straight my guide +Pursu’d his track. I follow’d; and small space +Had we pass’d onward, when the water’s sound +Was now so near at hand, that we had scarce +Heard one another’s speech for the loud din. + +E’en as the river, that holds on its course +Unmingled, from the mount of Vesulo, +On the left side of Apennine, toward +The east, which Acquacheta higher up +They call, ere it descend into the vale, +At Forli by that name no longer known, +Rebellows o’er Saint Benedict, roll’d on +From the’ Alpine summit down a precipice, +Where space enough to lodge a thousand spreads; +Thus downward from a craggy steep we found, +That this dark wave resounded, roaring loud, +So that the ear its clamour soon had stunn’d. + +I had a cord that brac’d my girdle round, +Wherewith I erst had thought fast bound to take +The painted leopard. This when I had all +Unloosen’d from me (so my master bade) +I gather’d up, and stretch’d it forth to him. +Then to the right he turn’d, and from the brink +Standing few paces distant, cast it down +Into the deep abyss. “And somewhat strange,” +Thus to myself I spake, “signal so strange +Betokens, which my guide with earnest eye +Thus follows.” Ah! what caution must men use +With those who look not at the deed alone, +But spy into the thoughts with subtle skill! + +“Quickly shall come,” he said, “what I expect, +Thine eye discover quickly, that whereof +Thy thought is dreaming.” Ever to that truth, +Which but the semblance of a falsehood wears, +A man, if possible, should bar his lip; +Since, although blameless, he incurs reproach. +But silence here were vain; and by these notes +Which now I sing, reader! I swear to thee, +So may they favour find to latest times! +That through the gross and murky air I spied +A shape come swimming up, that might have quell’d +The stoutest heart with wonder, in such guise +As one returns, who hath been down to loose +An anchor grappled fast against some rock, +Or to aught else that in the salt wave lies, +Who upward springing close draws in his feet. + + + + +CANTO XVII + + +“Lo! the fell monster with the deadly sting! +Who passes mountains, breaks through fenced walls +And firm embattled spears, and with his filth +Taints all the world!” Thus me my guide address’d, +And beckon’d him, that he should come to shore, +Near to the stony causeway’s utmost edge. + +Forthwith that image vile of fraud appear’d, +His head and upper part expos’d on land, +But laid not on the shore his bestial train. +His face the semblance of a just man’s wore, +So kind and gracious was its outward cheer; +The rest was serpent all: two shaggy claws +Reach’d to the armpits, and the back and breast, +And either side, were painted o’er with nodes +And orbits. Colours variegated more +Nor Turks nor Tartars e’er on cloth of state +With interchangeable embroidery wove, +Nor spread Arachne o’er her curious loom. +As ofttimes a light skiff, moor’d to the shore, +Stands part in water, part upon the land; +Or, as where dwells the greedy German boor, +The beaver settles watching for his prey; +So on the rim, that fenc’d the sand with rock, +Sat perch’d the fiend of evil. In the void +Glancing, his tail upturn’d its venomous fork, +With sting like scorpion’s arm’d. Then thus my guide: +“Now need our way must turn few steps apart, +Far as to that ill beast, who couches there.” + +Thereat toward the right our downward course +We shap’d, and, better to escape the flame +And burning marle, ten paces on the verge +Proceeded. Soon as we to him arrive, +A little further on mine eye beholds +A tribe of spirits, seated on the sand +Near the wide chasm. Forthwith my master spake: +“That to the full thy knowledge may extend +Of all this round contains, go now, and mark +The mien these wear: but hold not long discourse. +Till thou returnest, I with him meantime +Will parley, that to us he may vouchsafe +The aid of his strong shoulders.” Thus alone +Yet forward on the’ extremity I pac’d +Of that seventh circle, where the mournful tribe +Were seated. At the eyes forth gush’d their pangs. +Against the vapours and the torrid soil +Alternately their shifting hands they plied. +Thus use the dogs in summer still to ply +Their jaws and feet by turns, when bitten sore +By gnats, or flies, or gadflies swarming round. + +Noting the visages of some, who lay +Beneath the pelting of that dolorous fire, +One of them all I knew not; but perceiv’d, +That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch +With colours and with emblems various mark’d, +On which it seem’d as if their eye did feed. + +And when amongst them looking round I came, +A yellow purse I saw with azure wrought, +That wore a lion’s countenance and port. +Then still my sight pursuing its career, +Another I beheld, than blood more red. +A goose display of whiter wing than curd. +And one, who bore a fat and azure swine +Pictur’d on his white scrip, addressed me thus: +“What dost thou in this deep? Go now and know, +Since yet thou livest, that my neighbour here +Vitaliano on my left shall sit. +A Paduan with these Florentines am I. +Ofttimes they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming +‘O haste that noble knight! he who the pouch +With the three beaks will bring!’” This said, he writh’d +The mouth, and loll’d the tongue out, like an ox +That licks his nostrils. I, lest longer stay +He ill might brook, who bade me stay not long, +Backward my steps from those sad spirits turn’d. + +My guide already seated on the haunch +Of the fierce animal I found; and thus +He me encourag’d. “Be thou stout; be bold. +Down such a steep flight must we now descend! +Mount thou before: for that no power the tail +May have to harm thee, I will be i’ th’ midst.” + +As one, who hath an ague fit so near, +His nails already are turn’d blue, and he +Quivers all o’er, if he but eye the shade; +Such was my cheer at hearing of his words. +But shame soon interpos’d her threat, who makes +The servant bold in presence of his lord. + +I settled me upon those shoulders huge, +And would have said, but that the words to aid +My purpose came not, “Look thou clasp me firm!” + +But he whose succour then not first I prov’d, +Soon as I mounted, in his arms aloft, +Embracing, held me up, and thus he spake: +“Geryon! now move thee! be thy wheeling gyres +Of ample circuit, easy thy descent. +Think on th’ unusual burden thou sustain’st.” + +As a small vessel, back’ning out from land, +Her station quits; so thence the monster loos’d, +And when he felt himself at large, turn’d round +There where the breast had been, his forked tail. +Thus, like an eel, outstretch’d at length he steer’d, +Gath’ring the air up with retractile claws. + +Not greater was the dread when Phaeton +The reins let drop at random, whence high heaven, +Whereof signs yet appear, was wrapt in flames; +Nor when ill-fated Icarus perceiv’d, +By liquefaction of the scalded wax, +The trusted pennons loosen’d from his loins, +His sire exclaiming loud, “Ill way thou keep’st!” +Than was my dread, when round me on each part +The air I view’d, and other object none +Save the fell beast. He slowly sailing, wheels +His downward motion, unobserv’d of me, +But that the wind, arising to my face, +Breathes on me from below. Now on our right +I heard the cataract beneath us leap +With hideous crash; whence bending down to’ explore, +New terror I conceiv’d at the steep plunge: + +For flames I saw, and wailings smote mine ear: +So that all trembling close I crouch’d my limbs, +And then distinguish’d, unperceiv’d before, +By the dread torments that on every side +Drew nearer, how our downward course we wound. + +As falcon, that hath long been on the wing, +But lure nor bird hath seen, while in despair +The falconer cries, “Ah me! thou stoop’st to earth!” +Wearied descends, and swiftly down the sky +In many an orbit wheels, then lighting sits +At distance from his lord in angry mood; +So Geryon lighting places us on foot +Low down at base of the deep-furrow’d rock, +And, of his burden there discharg’d, forthwith +Sprang forward, like an arrow from the string. + + + + +CANTO XVIII + + +There is a place within the depths of hell +Call’d Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain’d +With hue ferruginous, e’en as the steep +That round it circling winds. Right in the midst +Of that abominable region, yawns +A spacious gulf profound, whereof the frame +Due time shall tell. The circle, that remains, +Throughout its round, between the gulf and base +Of the high craggy banks, successive forms +Ten trenches, in its hollow bottom sunk. + +As where to guard the walls, full many a foss +Begirds some stately castle, sure defence +Affording to the space within, so here +Were model’d these; and as like fortresses +E’en from their threshold to the brink without, +Are flank’d with bridges; from the rock’s low base +Thus flinty paths advanc’d, that ’cross the moles +And dikes, struck onward far as to the gulf, +That in one bound collected cuts them off. +Such was the place, wherein we found ourselves +From Geryon’s back dislodg’d. The bard to left +Held on his way, and I behind him mov’d. + +On our right hand new misery I saw, +New pains, new executioners of wrath, +That swarming peopled the first chasm. Below +Were naked sinners. Hitherward they came, +Meeting our faces from the middle point, +With us beyond but with a larger stride. +E’en thus the Romans, when the year returns +Of Jubilee, with better speed to rid +The thronging multitudes, their means devise +For such as pass the bridge; that on one side +All front toward the castle, and approach +Saint Peter’s fane, on th’ other towards the mount. + +Each divers way along the grisly rock, +Horn’d demons I beheld, with lashes huge, +That on their back unmercifully smote. +Ah! how they made them bound at the first stripe! + +None for the second waited nor the third. + +Meantime as on I pass’d, one met my sight +Whom soon as view’d; “Of him,” cried I, “not yet +Mine eye hath had his fill.” With fixed gaze +I therefore scann’d him. Straight the teacher kind +Paus’d with me, and consented I should walk +Backward a space, and the tormented spirit, +Who thought to hide him, bent his visage down. +But it avail’d him nought; for I exclaim’d: +“Thou who dost cast thy eye upon the ground, +Unless thy features do belie thee much, +Venedico art thou. But what brings thee +Into this bitter seas’ning?” He replied: +“Unwillingly I answer to thy words. +But thy clear speech, that to my mind recalls +The world I once inhabited, constrains me. +Know then ’twas I who led fair Ghisola +To do the Marquis’ will, however fame +The shameful tale have bruited. Nor alone +Bologna hither sendeth me to mourn +Rather with us the place is so o’erthrong’d +That not so many tongues this day are taught, +Betwixt the Reno and Savena’s stream, +To answer SIPA in their country’s phrase. +And if of that securer proof thou need, +Remember but our craving thirst for gold.” + +Him speaking thus, a demon with his thong +Struck, and exclaim’d, “Away! corrupter! here +Women are none for sale.” Forthwith I join’d +My escort, and few paces thence we came +To where a rock forth issued from the bank. +That easily ascended, to the right +Upon its splinter turning, we depart +From those eternal barriers. When arriv’d, +Where underneath the gaping arch lets pass +The scourged souls: “Pause here,” the teacher said, +“And let these others miserable, now +Strike on thy ken, faces not yet beheld, +For that together they with us have walk’d.” + +From the old bridge we ey’d the pack, who came +From th’ other side towards us, like the rest, +Excoriate from the lash. My gentle guide, +By me unquestion’d, thus his speech resum’d: +“Behold that lofty shade, who this way tends, +And seems too woe-begone to drop a tear. +How yet the regal aspect he retains! +Jason is he, whose skill and prowess won +The ram from Colchos. To the Lemnian isle +His passage thither led him, when those bold +And pitiless women had slain all their males. +There he with tokens and fair witching words +Hypsipyle beguil’d, a virgin young, +Who first had all the rest herself beguil’d. +Impregnated he left her there forlorn. +Such is the guilt condemns him to this pain. +Here too Medea’s inj’ries are avenged. +All bear him company, who like deceit +To his have practis’d. And thus much to know +Of the first vale suffice thee, and of those +Whom its keen torments urge.” Now had we come +Where, crossing the next pier, the straighten’d path +Bestrides its shoulders to another arch. + +Hence in the second chasm we heard the ghosts, +Who jibber in low melancholy sounds, +With wide-stretch’d nostrils snort, and on themselves +Smite with their palms. Upon the banks a scurf +From the foul steam condens’d, encrusting hung, +That held sharp combat with the sight and smell. + +So hollow is the depth, that from no part, +Save on the summit of the rocky span, +Could I distinguish aught. Thus far we came; +And thence I saw, within the foss below, +A crowd immers’d in ordure, that appear’d +Draff of the human body. There beneath +Searching with eye inquisitive, I mark’d +One with his head so grim’d, ’t were hard to deem, +If he were clerk or layman. Loud he cried: +“Why greedily thus bendest more on me, +Than on these other filthy ones, thy ken?” + +“Because if true my mem’ry,” I replied, +“I heretofore have seen thee with dry locks, +And thou Alessio art of Lucca sprung. +Therefore than all the rest I scan thee more.” + +Then beating on his brain these words he spake: +“Me thus low down my flatteries have sunk, +Wherewith I ne’er enough could glut my tongue.” + +My leader thus: “A little further stretch +Thy face, that thou the visage well mayst note +Of that besotted, sluttish courtezan, +Who there doth rend her with defiled nails, +Now crouching down, now risen on her feet. + +“Thais is this, the harlot, whose false lip +Answer’d her doting paramour that ask’d, +‘Thankest me much!’—‘Say rather wondrously,’ +And seeing this here satiate be our view.” + + + + +CANTO XIX + + +Woe to thee, Simon Magus! woe to you, +His wretched followers! who the things of God, +Which should be wedded unto goodness, them, +Rapacious as ye are, do prostitute +For gold and silver in adultery! +Now must the trumpet sound for you, since yours +Is the third chasm. Upon the following vault +We now had mounted, where the rock impends +Directly o’er the centre of the foss. + +Wisdom Supreme! how wonderful the art, +Which thou dost manifest in heaven, in earth, +And in the evil world, how just a meed +Allotting by thy virtue unto all! + +I saw the livid stone, throughout the sides +And in its bottom full of apertures, +All equal in their width, and circular each, +Nor ample less nor larger they appear’d +Than in Saint John’s fair dome of me belov’d +Those fram’d to hold the pure baptismal streams, +One of the which I brake, some few years past, +To save a whelming infant; and be this +A seal to undeceive whoever doubts +The motive of my deed. From out the mouth +Of every one, emerg’d a sinner’s feet +And of the legs high upward as the calf +The rest beneath was hid. On either foot +The soles were burning, whence the flexile joints +Glanc’d with such violent motion, as had snapt +Asunder cords or twisted withs. As flame, +Feeding on unctuous matter, glides along +The surface, scarcely touching where it moves; +So here, from heel to point, glided the flames. + +“Master! say who is he, than all the rest +Glancing in fiercer agony, on whom +A ruddier flame doth prey?” I thus inquir’d. + +“If thou be willing,” he replied, “that I +Carry thee down, where least the slope bank falls, +He of himself shall tell thee and his wrongs.” + +I then: “As pleases thee to me is best. +Thou art my lord; and know’st that ne’er I quit +Thy will: what silence hides that knowest thou.” +Thereat on the fourth pier we came, we turn’d, +And on our left descended to the depth, +A narrow strait and perforated close. +Nor from his side my leader set me down, +Till to his orifice he brought, whose limb +Quiv’ring express’d his pang. “Whoe’er thou art, +Sad spirit! thus revers’d, and as a stake +Driv’n in the soil!” I in these words began, +“If thou be able, utter forth thy voice.” + +There stood I like the friar, that doth shrive +A wretch for murder doom’d, who e’en when fix’d, +Calleth him back, whence death awhile delays. + +He shouted: “Ha! already standest there? +Already standest there, O Boniface! +By many a year the writing play’d me false. +So early dost thou surfeit with the wealth, +For which thou fearedst not in guile to take +The lovely lady, and then mangle her?” + +I felt as those who, piercing not the drift +Of answer made them, stand as if expos’d +In mockery, nor know what to reply, +When Virgil thus admonish’d: “Tell him quick, +I am not he, not he, whom thou believ’st.” + +And I, as was enjoin’d me, straight replied. + +That heard, the spirit all did wrench his feet, +And sighing next in woeful accent spake: +“What then of me requirest? If to know +So much imports thee, who I am, that thou +Hast therefore down the bank descended, learn +That in the mighty mantle I was rob’d, +And of a she-bear was indeed the son, +So eager to advance my whelps, that there +My having in my purse above I stow’d, +And here myself. Under my head are dragg’d +The rest, my predecessors in the guilt +Of simony. Stretch’d at their length they lie +Along an opening in the rock. ’Midst them +I also low shall fall, soon as he comes, +For whom I took thee, when so hastily +I question’d. But already longer time +Hath pass’d, since my souls kindled, and I thus +Upturn’d have stood, than is his doom to stand +Planted with fiery feet. For after him, +One yet of deeds more ugly shall arrive, +From forth the west, a shepherd without law, +Fated to cover both his form and mine. +He a new Jason shall be call’d, of whom +In Maccabees we read; and favour such +As to that priest his king indulgent show’d, +Shall be of France’s monarch shown to him.” + +I know not if I here too far presum’d, +But in this strain I answer’d: “Tell me now, +What treasures from St. Peter at the first +Our Lord demanded, when he put the keys +Into his charge? Surely he ask’d no more +But, Follow me! Nor Peter nor the rest +Or gold or silver of Matthias took, +When lots were cast upon the forfeit place +Of the condemned soul. Abide thou then; +Thy punishment of right is merited: +And look thou well to that ill-gotten coin, +Which against Charles thy hardihood inspir’d. +If reverence of the keys restrain’d me not, +Which thou in happier time didst hold, I yet +Severer speech might use. Your avarice +O’ercasts the world with mourning, under foot +Treading the good, and raising bad men up. +Of shepherds, like to you, th’ Evangelist +Was ware, when her, who sits upon the waves, +With kings in filthy whoredom he beheld, +She who with seven heads tower’d at her birth, +And from ten horns her proof of glory drew, +Long as her spouse in virtue took delight. +Of gold and silver ye have made your god, +Diff’ring wherein from the idolater, +But he that worships one, a hundred ye? +Ah, Constantine! to how much ill gave birth, +Not thy conversion, but that plenteous dower, +Which the first wealthy Father gain’d from thee!” + +Meanwhile, as thus I sung, he, whether wrath +Or conscience smote him, violent upsprang +Spinning on either sole. I do believe +My teacher well was pleas’d, with so compos’d +A lip, he listen’d ever to the sound +Of the true words I utter’d. In both arms +He caught, and to his bosom lifting me +Upward retrac’d the way of his descent. + +Nor weary of his weight he press’d me close, +Till to the summit of the rock we came, +Our passage from the fourth to the fifth pier. +His cherish’d burden there gently he plac’d +Upon the rugged rock and steep, a path +Not easy for the clamb’ring goat to mount. + +Thence to my view another vale appear’d + + + + +CANTO XX + + +And now the verse proceeds to torments new, +Fit argument of this the twentieth strain +Of the first song, whose awful theme records +The spirits whelm’d in woe. Earnest I look’d +Into the depth, that open’d to my view, +Moisten’d with tears of anguish, and beheld +A tribe, that came along the hollow vale, +In silence weeping: such their step as walk +Quires chanting solemn litanies on earth. + +As on them more direct mine eye descends, +Each wondrously seem’d to be revers’d +At the neck-bone, so that the countenance +Was from the reins averted: and because +None might before him look, they were compell’d +To’ advance with backward gait. Thus one perhaps +Hath been by force of palsy clean transpos’d, +But I ne’er saw it nor believe it so. + +Now, reader! think within thyself, so God +Fruit of thy reading give thee! how I long +Could keep my visage dry, when I beheld +Near me our form distorted in such guise, +That on the hinder parts fall’n from the face +The tears down-streaming roll’d. Against a rock +I leant and wept, so that my guide exclaim’d: +“What, and art thou too witless as the rest? +Here pity most doth show herself alive, +When she is dead. What guilt exceedeth his, +Who with Heaven’s judgment in his passion strives? +Raise up thy head, raise up, and see the man, +Before whose eyes earth gap’d in Thebes, when all +Cried out, ‘Amphiaraus, whither rushest? +‘Why leavest thou the war?’ He not the less +Fell ruining far as to Minos down, +Whose grapple none eludes. Lo! how he makes +The breast his shoulders, and who once too far +Before him wish’d to see, now backward looks, +And treads reverse his path. Tiresias note, +Who semblance chang’d, when woman he became +Of male, through every limb transform’d, and then +Once more behov’d him with his rod to strike +The two entwining serpents, ere the plumes, +That mark’d the better sex, might shoot again. + +“Aruns, with more his belly facing, comes. +On Luni’s mountains ’midst the marbles white, +Where delves Carrara’s hind, who wons beneath, +A cavern was his dwelling, whence the stars +And main-sea wide in boundless view he held. + +“The next, whose loosen’d tresses overspread +Her bosom, which thou seest not (for each hair +On that side grows) was Manto, she who search’d +Through many regions, and at length her seat +Fix’d in my native land, whence a short space +My words detain thy audience. When her sire +From life departed, and in servitude +The city dedicate to Bacchus mourn’d, +Long time she went a wand’rer through the world. +Aloft in Italy’s delightful land +A lake there lies, at foot of that proud Alp, +That o’er the Tyrol locks Germania in, +Its name Benacus, which a thousand rills, +Methinks, and more, water between the vale +Camonica and Garda and the height +Of Apennine remote. There is a spot +At midway of that lake, where he who bears +Of Trento’s flock the past’ral staff, with him +Of Brescia, and the Veronese, might each +Passing that way his benediction give. +A garrison of goodly site and strong +Peschiera stands, to awe with front oppos’d +The Bergamese and Brescian, whence the shore +More slope each way descends. There, whatsoev’er +Benacus’ bosom holds not, tumbling o’er +Down falls, and winds a river flood beneath +Through the green pastures. Soon as in his course +The steam makes head, Benacus then no more +They call the name, but Mincius, till at last +Reaching Governo into Po he falls. +Not far his course hath run, when a wide flat +It finds, which overstretchmg as a marsh +It covers, pestilent in summer oft. +Hence journeying, the savage maiden saw +’Midst of the fen a territory waste +And naked of inhabitants. To shun +All human converse, here she with her slaves +Plying her arts remain’d, and liv’d, and left +Her body tenantless. Thenceforth the tribes, +Who round were scatter’d, gath’ring to that place +Assembled; for its strength was great, enclos’d +On all parts by the fen. On those dead bones +They rear’d themselves a city, for her sake, +Calling it Mantua, who first chose the spot, +Nor ask’d another omen for the name, +Wherein more numerous the people dwelt, +Ere Casalodi’s madness by deceit +Was wrong’d of Pinamonte. If thou hear +Henceforth another origin assign’d +Of that my country, I forewarn thee now, +That falsehood none beguile thee of the truth.” + +I answer’d: “Teacher, I conclude thy words +So certain, that all else shall be to me +As embers lacking life. But now of these, +Who here proceed, instruct me, if thou see +Any that merit more especial note. +For thereon is my mind alone intent.” + +He straight replied: “That spirit, from whose cheek +The beard sweeps o’er his shoulders brown, what time +Graecia was emptied of her males, that scarce +The cradles were supplied, the seer was he +In Aulis, who with Calchas gave the sign +When first to cut the cable. Him they nam’d +Eurypilus: so sings my tragic strain, +In which majestic measure well thou know’st, +Who know’st it all. That other, round the loins +So slender of his shape, was Michael Scot, +Practis’d in ev’ry slight of magic wile. + +“Guido Bonatti see: Asdente mark, +Who now were willing, he had tended still +The thread and cordwain; and too late repents. + +“See next the wretches, who the needle left, +The shuttle and the spindle, and became +Diviners: baneful witcheries they wrought +With images and herbs. But onward now: +For now doth Cain with fork of thorns confine +On either hemisphere, touching the wave +Beneath the towers of Seville. Yesternight +The moon was round. Thou mayst remember well: +For she good service did thee in the gloom +Of the deep wood.” This said, both onward mov’d. + + + + +CANTO XXI + + +Thus we from bridge to bridge, with other talk, +The which my drama cares not to rehearse, +Pass’d on; and to the summit reaching, stood +To view another gap, within the round +Of Malebolge, other bootless pangs. + +Marvelous darkness shadow’d o’er the place. + +In the Venetians’ arsenal as boils +Through wintry months tenacious pitch, to smear +Their unsound vessels; for th’ inclement time +Sea-faring men restrains, and in that while +His bark one builds anew, another stops +The ribs of his, that hath made many a voyage; +One hammers at the prow, one at the poop; +This shapeth oars, that other cables twirls, +The mizen one repairs and main-sail rent +So not by force of fire but art divine +Boil’d here a glutinous thick mass, that round +Lim’d all the shore beneath. I that beheld, +But therein nought distinguish’d, save the surge, +Rais’d by the boiling, in one mighty swell +Heave, and by turns subsiding and fall. While there +I fix’d my ken below, “Mark! mark!” my guide +Exclaiming, drew me towards him from the place, +Wherein I stood. I turn’d myself as one, +Impatient to behold that which beheld +He needs must shun, whom sudden fear unmans, +That he his flight delays not for the view. +Behind me I discern’d a devil black, +That running, up advanc’d along the rock. +Ah! what fierce cruelty his look bespake! +In act how bitter did he seem, with wings +Buoyant outstretch’d and feet of nimblest tread! +His shoulder proudly eminent and sharp +Was with a sinner charg’d; by either haunch +He held him, the foot’s sinew griping fast. + +“Ye of our bridge!” he cried, “keen-talon’d fiends! +Lo! one of Santa Zita’s elders! Him +Whelm ye beneath, while I return for more. +That land hath store of such. All men are there, +Except Bonturo, barterers: of ‘no’ +For lucre there an ‘aye’ is quickly made.” + +Him dashing down, o’er the rough rock he turn’d, +Nor ever after thief a mastiff loos’d +Sped with like eager haste. That other sank +And forthwith writing to the surface rose. +But those dark demons, shrouded by the bridge, +Cried “Here the hallow’d visage saves not: here +Is other swimming than in Serchio’s wave. +Wherefore if thou desire we rend thee not, +Take heed thou mount not o’er the pitch.” This said, +They grappled him with more than hundred hooks, +And shouted: “Cover’d thou must sport thee here; +So, if thou canst, in secret mayst thou filch.” + +E’en thus the cook bestirs him, with his grooms, +To thrust the flesh into the caldron down +With flesh-hooks, that it float not on the top. + +Me then my guide bespake: “Lest they descry, +That thou art here, behind a craggy rock +Bend low and screen thee; and whate’er of force +Be offer’d me, or insult, fear thou not: +For I am well advis’d, who have been erst +In the like fray.” Beyond the bridge’s head +Therewith he pass’d, and reaching the sixth pier, +Behov’d him then a forehead terror-proof. + +With storm and fury, as when dogs rush forth +Upon the poor man’s back, who suddenly +From whence he standeth makes his suit; so rush’d +Those from beneath the arch, and against him +Their weapons all they pointed. He aloud: +“Be none of you outrageous: ere your time +Dare seize me, come forth from amongst you one, + +“Who having heard my words, decide he then +If he shall tear these limbs.” They shouted loud, +“Go, Malacoda!” Whereat one advanc’d, +The others standing firm, and as he came, +“What may this turn avail him?” he exclaim’d. + +“Believ’st thou, Malacoda! I had come +Thus far from all your skirmishing secure,” +My teacher answered, “without will divine +And destiny propitious? Pass we then +For so Heaven’s pleasure is, that I should lead +Another through this savage wilderness.” + +Forthwith so fell his pride, that he let drop +The instrument of torture at his feet, +And to the rest exclaim’d: “We have no power +To strike him.” Then to me my guide: “O thou! +Who on the bridge among the crags dost sit +Low crouching, safely now to me return.” + +I rose, and towards him moved with speed: the fiends +Meantime all forward drew: me terror seiz’d +Lest they should break the compact they had made. +Thus issuing from Caprona, once I saw +Th’ infantry dreading, lest his covenant +The foe should break; so close he hemm’d them round. + +I to my leader’s side adher’d, mine eyes +With fixt and motionless observance bent +On their unkindly visage. They their hooks +Protruding, one the other thus bespake: +“Wilt thou I touch him on the hip?” To whom +Was answer’d: “Even so; nor miss thy aim.” + +But he, who was in conf’rence with my guide, +Turn’d rapid round, and thus the demon spake: +“Stay, stay thee, Scarmiglione!” Then to us +He added: “Further footing to your step +This rock affords not, shiver’d to the base +Of the sixth arch. But would you still proceed, +Up by this cavern go: not distant far, +Another rock will yield you passage safe. +Yesterday, later by five hours than now, +Twelve hundred threescore years and six had fill’d +The circuit of their course, since here the way +Was broken. Thitherward I straight dispatch +Certain of these my scouts, who shall espy +If any on the surface bask. With them +Go ye: for ye shall find them nothing fell. +Come Alichino forth,” with that he cried, +“And Calcabrina, and Cagnazzo thou! +The troop of ten let Barbariccia lead. +With Libicocco Draghinazzo haste, +Fang’d Ciriatto, Grafflacane fierce, +And Farfarello, and mad Rubicant. +Search ye around the bubbling tar. For these, +In safety lead them, where the other crag +Uninterrupted traverses the dens.” + +I then: “O master! what a sight is there! +Ah! without escort, journey we alone, +Which, if thou know the way, I covet not. +Unless thy prudence fail thee, dost not mark +How they do gnarl upon us, and their scowl +Threatens us present tortures?” He replied: +“I charge thee fear not: let them, as they will, +Gnarl on: ’t is but in token of their spite +Against the souls, who mourn in torment steep’d.” + +To leftward o’er the pier they turn’d; but each +Had first between his teeth prest close the tongue, +Toward their leader for a signal looking, +Which he with sound obscene triumphant gave. + + + + +CANTO XXII + + +It hath been heretofore my chance to see +Horsemen with martial order shifting camp, +To onset sallying, or in muster rang’d, +Or in retreat sometimes outstretch’d for flight; +Light-armed squadrons and fleet foragers +Scouring thy plains, Arezzo! have I seen, +And clashing tournaments, and tilting jousts, +Now with the sound of trumpets, now of bells, +Tabors, or signals made from castled heights, +And with inventions multiform, our own, +Or introduc’d from foreign land; but ne’er +To such a strange recorder I beheld, +In evolution moving, horse nor foot, +Nor ship, that tack’d by sign from land or star. + +With the ten demons on our way we went; +Ah fearful company! but in the church +With saints, with gluttons at the tavern’s mess. + +Still earnest on the pitch I gaz’d, to mark +All things whate’er the chasm contain’d, and those +Who burn’d within. As dolphins, that, in sign +To mariners, heave high their arched backs, +That thence forewarn’d they may advise to save +Their threaten’d vessels; so, at intervals, +To ease the pain his back some sinner show’d, +Then hid more nimbly than the lightning glance. + +E’en as the frogs, that of a wat’ry moat +Stand at the brink, with the jaws only out, +Their feet and of the trunk all else concealed, +Thus on each part the sinners stood, but soon +As Barbariccia was at hand, so they +Drew back under the wave. I saw, and yet +My heart doth stagger, one, that waited thus, +As it befalls that oft one frog remains, +While the next springs away: and Graffiacan, +Who of the fiends was nearest, grappling seiz’d +His clotted locks, and dragg’d him sprawling up, +That he appear’d to me an otter. Each +Already by their names I knew, so well +When they were chosen, I observ’d, and mark’d +How one the other call’d. “O Rubicant! +See that his hide thou with thy talons flay,” +Shouted together all the cursed crew. + +Then I: “Inform thee, master! if thou may, +What wretched soul is this, on whom their hand +His foes have laid.” My leader to his side +Approach’d, and whence he came inquir’d, to whom +Was answer’d thus: “Born in Navarre’s domain +My mother plac’d me in a lord’s retinue, +For she had borne me to a losel vile, +A spendthrift of his substance and himself. +The good king Thibault after that I serv’d, +To peculating here my thoughts were turn’d, +Whereof I give account in this dire heat.” + +Straight Ciriatto, from whose mouth a tusk +Issued on either side, as from a boar, +Ript him with one of these. ’Twixt evil claws +The mouse had fall’n: but Barbariccia cried, +Seizing him with both arms: “Stand thou apart, +While I do fix him on my prong transpierc’d.” +Then added, turning to my guide his face, +“Inquire of him, if more thou wish to learn, +Ere he again be rent.” My leader thus: +“Then tell us of the partners in thy guilt; +Knowest thou any sprung of Latian land +Under the tar?”—“I parted,” he replied, +“But now from one, who sojourn’d not far thence; +So were I under shelter now with him! +Nor hook nor talon then should scare me more.”—. + +“Too long we suffer,” Libicocco cried, +Then, darting forth a prong, seiz’d on his arm, +And mangled bore away the sinewy part. +Him Draghinazzo by his thighs beneath +Would next have caught, whence angrily their chief, +Turning on all sides round, with threat’ning brow +Restrain’d them. When their strife a little ceas’d, +Of him, who yet was gazing on his wound, +My teacher thus without delay inquir’d: +“Who was the spirit, from whom by evil hap +Parting, as thou has told, thou cam’st to shore?”— + +“It was the friar Gomita,” he rejoin’d, +“He of Gallura, vessel of all guile, +Who had his master’s enemies in hand, +And us’d them so that they commend him well. +Money he took, and them at large dismiss’d. +So he reports: and in each other charge +Committed to his keeping, play’d the part +Of barterer to the height: with him doth herd +The chief of Logodoro, Michel Zanche. +Sardinia is a theme, whereof their tongue +Is never weary. Out! alas! behold +That other, how he grins! More would I say, +But tremble lest he mean to maul me sore.” + +Their captain then to Farfarello turning, +Who roll’d his moony eyes in act to strike, +Rebuk’d him thus: “Off! cursed bird! Avaunt!”— + +“If ye desire to see or hear,” he thus +Quaking with dread resum’d, “or Tuscan spirits +Or Lombard, I will cause them to appear. +Meantime let these ill talons bate their fury, +So that no vengeance they may fear from them, +And I, remaining in this self-same place, +Will for myself but one, make sev’n appear, +When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for so +Our custom is to call each other up.” + +Cagnazzo at that word deriding grinn’d, +Then wagg’d the head and spake: “Hear his device, +Mischievous as he is, to plunge him down.” + +Whereto he thus, who fail’d not in rich store +Of nice-wove toils; “Mischief forsooth extreme, +Meant only to procure myself more woe!” + +No longer Alichino then refrain’d, +But thus, the rest gainsaying, him bespake: +“If thou do cast thee down, I not on foot +Will chase thee, but above the pitch will beat +My plumes. Quit we the vantage ground, and let +The bank be as a shield, that we may see +If singly thou prevail against us all.” + +Now, reader, of new sport expect to hear! + +They each one turn’d his eyes to the’ other shore, +He first, who was the hardest to persuade. +The spirit of Navarre chose well his time, +Planted his feet on land, and at one leap +Escaping disappointed their resolve. + +Them quick resentment stung, but him the most, +Who was the cause of failure; in pursuit +He therefore sped, exclaiming; “Thou art caught.” + +But little it avail’d: terror outstripp’d +His following flight: the other plung’d beneath, +And he with upward pinion rais’d his breast: +E’en thus the water-fowl, when she perceives +The falcon near, dives instant down, while he +Enrag’d and spent retires. That mockery +In Calcabrina fury stirr’d, who flew +After him, with desire of strife inflam’d; +And, for the barterer had ’scap’d, so turn’d +His talons on his comrade. O’er the dyke +In grapple close they join’d; but the’ other prov’d +A goshawk able to rend well his foe; + +And in the boiling lake both fell. The heat +Was umpire soon between them, but in vain +To lift themselves they strove, so fast were glued +Their pennons. Barbariccia, as the rest, +That chance lamenting, four in flight dispatch’d +From the’ other coast, with all their weapons arm’d. +They, to their post on each side speedily +Descending, stretch’d their hooks toward the fiends, +Who flounder’d, inly burning from their scars: +And we departing left them to that broil. + + + + +CANTO XXIII + + +In silence and in solitude we went, +One first, the other following his steps, +As minor friars journeying on their road. + +The present fray had turn’d my thoughts to muse +Upon old Aesop’s fable, where he told +What fate unto the mouse and frog befell. +For language hath not sounds more like in sense, +Than are these chances, if the origin +And end of each be heedfully compar’d. +And as one thought bursts from another forth, +So afterward from that another sprang, +Which added doubly to my former fear. +For thus I reason’d: “These through us have been +So foil’d, with loss and mock’ry so complete, +As needs must sting them sore. If anger then +Be to their evil will conjoin’d, more fell +They shall pursue us, than the savage hound +Snatches the leveret, panting ’twixt his jaws.” + +Already I perceiv’d my hair stand all +On end with terror, and look’d eager back. + +“Teacher,” I thus began, “if speedily +Thyself and me thou hide not, much I dread +Those evil talons. Even now behind +They urge us: quick imagination works +So forcibly, that I already feel them.” + +He answer’d: “Were I form’d of leaded glass, +I should not sooner draw unto myself +Thy outward image, than I now imprint +That from within. This moment came thy thoughts +Presented before mine, with similar act +And count’nance similar, so that from both +I one design have fram’d. If the right coast +Incline so much, that we may thence descend +Into the other chasm, we shall escape +Secure from this imagined pursuit.” + +He had not spoke his purpose to the end, +When I from far beheld them with spread wings +Approach to take us. Suddenly my guide +Caught me, ev’n as a mother that from sleep +Is by the noise arous’d, and near her sees +The climbing fires, who snatches up her babe +And flies ne’er pausing, careful more of him +Than of herself, that but a single vest +Clings round her limbs. Down from the jutting beach +Supine he cast him, to that pendent rock, +Which closes on one part the other chasm. + +Never ran water with such hurrying pace +Adown the tube to turn a landmill’s wheel, +When nearest it approaches to the spokes, +As then along that edge my master ran, +Carrying me in his bosom, as a child, +Not a companion. Scarcely had his feet +Reach’d to the lowest of the bed beneath, + +When over us the steep they reach’d; but fear +In him was none; for that high Providence, +Which plac’d them ministers of the fifth foss, +Power of departing thence took from them all. + +There in the depth we saw a painted tribe, +Who pac’d with tardy steps around, and wept, +Faint in appearance and o’ercome with toil. +Caps had they on, with hoods, that fell low down +Before their eyes, in fashion like to those +Worn by the monks in Cologne. Their outside +Was overlaid with gold, dazzling to view, +But leaden all within, and of such weight, +That Frederick’s compar’d to these were straw. +Oh, everlasting wearisome attire! + +We yet once more with them together turn’d +To leftward, on their dismal moan intent. +But by the weight oppress’d, so slowly came +The fainting people, that our company +Was chang’d at every movement of the step. + +Whence I my guide address’d: “See that thou find +Some spirit, whose name may by his deeds be known, +And to that end look round thee as thou go’st.” + +Then one, who understood the Tuscan voice, +Cried after us aloud: “Hold in your feet, +Ye who so swiftly speed through the dusk air. +Perchance from me thou shalt obtain thy wish.” + +Whereat my leader, turning, me bespake: +“Pause, and then onward at their pace proceed.” + +I staid, and saw two Spirits in whose look +Impatient eagerness of mind was mark’d +To overtake me; but the load they bare +And narrow path retarded their approach. + +Soon as arriv’d, they with an eye askance +Perus’d me, but spake not: then turning each +To other thus conferring said: “This one +Seems, by the action of his throat, alive. +And, be they dead, what privilege allows +They walk unmantled by the cumbrous stole?” + +Then thus to me: “Tuscan, who visitest +The college of the mourning hypocrites, +Disdain not to instruct us who thou art.” + +“By Arno’s pleasant stream,” I thus replied, +“In the great city I was bred and grew, +And wear the body I have ever worn. +but who are ye, from whom such mighty grief, +As now I witness, courseth down your cheeks? +What torment breaks forth in this bitter woe?” +“Our bonnets gleaming bright with orange hue,” +One of them answer’d, “are so leaden gross, +That with their weight they make the balances +To crack beneath them. Joyous friars we were, +Bologna’s natives, Catalano I, +He Loderingo nam’d, and by thy land +Together taken, as men used to take +A single and indifferent arbiter, +To reconcile their strifes. How there we sped, +Gardingo’s vicinage can best declare.” + +“O friars!” I began, “your miseries—” +But there brake off, for one had caught my eye, +Fix’d to a cross with three stakes on the ground: +He, when he saw me, writh’d himself, throughout +Distorted, ruffling with deep sighs his beard. +And Catalano, who thereof was ’ware, + +Thus spake: “That pierced spirit, whom intent +Thou view’st, was he who gave the Pharisees +Counsel, that it were fitting for one man +To suffer for the people. He doth lie +Transverse; nor any passes, but him first +Behoves make feeling trial how each weighs. +In straits like this along the foss are plac’d +The father of his consort, and the rest +Partakers in that council, seed of ill +And sorrow to the Jews.” I noted then, +How Virgil gaz’d with wonder upon him, +Thus abjectly extended on the cross +In banishment eternal. To the friar +He next his words address’d: “We pray ye tell, +If so be lawful, whether on our right +Lies any opening in the rock, whereby +We both may issue hence, without constraint +On the dark angels, that compell’d they come +To lead us from this depth.” He thus replied: +“Nearer than thou dost hope, there is a rock +From the next circle moving, which o’ersteps +Each vale of horror, save that here his cope +Is shatter’d. By the ruin ye may mount: +For on the side it slants, and most the height +Rises below.” With head bent down awhile +My leader stood, then spake: “He warn’d us ill, +Who yonder hangs the sinners on his hook.” + +To whom the friar: At Bologna erst +“I many vices of the devil heard, +Among the rest was said, ‘He is a liar, +And the father of lies!’” When he had spoke, +My leader with large strides proceeded on, +Somewhat disturb’d with anger in his look. + +I therefore left the spirits heavy laden, +And following, his beloved footsteps mark’d. + + + + +CANTO XXIV + + +In the year’s early nonage, when the sun +Tempers his tresses in Aquarius’ urn, +And now towards equal day the nights recede, +When as 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 chang’d its count’nance, 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 cur’d; for at the fallen bridge +Arriving, towards 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 open’d wide his arm +And took me up. As one, who, while he works, +Computes his labour’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 capp’d with lead +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 of our descent we reach’d +From the last flag: soon as to that arriv’d, +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’er consumes his days +Leaveth such vestige of himself on earth, +As smoke in air or foam upon the wave. +Thou therefore rise: vanish 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 escap’d sufficeth not. +If well thou note me, profit by my words.” + +I straightway rose, and show’d myself less spent +Than 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 ceas’d not, as we journey’d, so to seem +Least faint; whereat a voice from the other foss +Did issue forth, for utt’rance suited ill. +Though on the arch that crosses there I stood, +What were the words I knew not, but who spake +Seem’d mov’d 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 Lybia vaunt no more: if Jaculus, +Pareas and Chelyder be her brood, +Cenchris and Amphisboena, plagues so dire +Or in such numbers swarming ne’er she shew’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, +Transpierc’d him. Far more quickly than e’er pen +Wrote O or I, he kindled, burn’d, and chang’d +To ashes, all pour’d out upon the earth. +When there dissolv’d 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 endur’d, 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 inquir’d, and thus in few +He answer’d: “Vanni Fucci am I call’d, +Not long since rained down from Tuscany +To this dire gullet. Me the beastial life +And not the human pleas’d, mule that I was, +Who in Pistoia found my worthy den.” + +I then to Virgil: “Bid him stir not hence, +And ask what crime did thrust him hither: once +A man I knew him choleric and bloody.” + +The sinner heard and feign’d not, but towards me +His mind directing and his face, wherein +Was dismal shame depictur’d, 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 pines, +Then Florence changeth citizens and laws. +From Valdimagra, drawn by wrathful Mars, +A vapour 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.” + + + + +CANTO XXV + + +When he had spoke, the sinner rais’d his hands +Pointed in mockery, and cried: “Take them, God! +I level them at thee!” From that day forth +The serpents were my friends; for round his neck +One of then rolling twisted, as it said, +“Be silent, tongue!” Another to his arms +Upgliding, tied them, riveting itself +So close, it took from them the power to move. + +Pistoia! Ah Pistoia! why dost doubt +To turn thee into ashes, cumb’ring earth +No longer, since in evil act so far +Thou hast outdone thy seed? I did not mark, +Through all the gloomy circles of the’ abyss, +Spirit, that swell’d so proudly ’gainst his God, +Not him, who headlong fell from Thebes. He fled, +Nor utter’d more; and after him there came +A centaur full of fury, shouting, “Where +Where is the caitiff?” On Maremma’s marsh +Swarm not the serpent tribe, as on his haunch +They swarm’d, to where the human face begins. +Behind his head upon the shoulders lay, +With open wings, a dragon breathing fire +On whomsoe’er he met. To me my guide: +“Cacus is this, who underneath the rock +Of Aventine spread oft a lake of blood. +He, from his brethren parted, here must tread +A different journey, for his fraudful theft +Of the great herd, that near him stall’d; whence found +His felon deeds their end, beneath the mace +Of stout Alcides, that perchance laid on +A hundred blows, and not the tenth was felt.” + +While yet he spake, the centaur sped away: +And under us three spirits came, of whom +Nor I nor he was ware, till they exclaim’d; +“Say who are ye?” We then brake off discourse, +Intent on these alone. I knew them not; +But, as it chanceth oft, befell, that one +Had need to name another. “Where,” said he, +“Doth Cianfa lurk?” I, for a sign my guide +Should stand attentive, plac’d against my lips +The finger lifted. If, O reader! now +Thou be not apt to credit what I tell, +No marvel; for myself do scarce allow +The witness of mine eyes. But as I looked +Toward them, lo! a serpent with six feet +Springs forth on one, and fastens full upon him: +His midmost grasp’d the belly, a forefoot +Seiz’d on each arm (while deep in either cheek +He flesh’d his fangs); the hinder on the thighs +Were spread, ’twixt which the tail inserted curl’d +Upon the reins behind. Ivy ne’er clasp’d +A dodder’d oak, as round the other’s limbs +The hideous monster intertwin’d his own. +Then, as they both had been of burning wax, +Each melted into other, mingling hues, +That which was either now was seen no more. +Thus up the shrinking paper, ere it burns, +A brown tint glides, not turning yet to black, +And the clean white expires. The other two +Look’d on exclaiming: “Ah, how dost thou change, +Agnello! See! Thou art nor double now, + +“Nor only one.” The two heads now became +One, and two figures blended in one form +Appear’d, where both were lost. Of the four lengths +Two arms were made: the belly and the chest +The thighs and legs into such members chang’d, +As never eye hath seen. Of former shape +All trace was vanish’d. Two yet neither seem’d +That image miscreate, and so pass’d on +With tardy steps. As underneath the scourge +Of the fierce dog-star, that lays bare the fields, +Shifting from brake to brake, the lizard seems +A flash of lightning, if he thwart the road, +So toward th’ entrails of the other two +Approaching seem’d, an adder all on fire, +As the dark pepper-grain, livid and swart. +In that part, whence our life is nourish’d first, +One he transpierc’d; then down before him fell +Stretch’d out. The pierced spirit look’d on him +But spake not; yea stood motionless and yawn’d, +As if by sleep or fev’rous fit assail’d. +He ey’d the serpent, and the serpent him. +One from the wound, the other from the mouth +Breath’d a thick smoke, whose vap’ry columns join’d. + +Lucan in mute attention now may hear, +Nor thy disastrous fate, Sabellus! tell, +Nor shine, Nasidius! Ovid now be mute. +What if in warbling fiction he record +Cadmus and Arethusa, to a snake +Him chang’d, and her into a fountain clear, +I envy not; for never face to face +Two natures thus transmuted did he sing, +Wherein both shapes were ready to assume +The other’s substance. They in mutual guise +So answer’d, that the serpent split his train +Divided to a fork, and the pierc’d spirit +Drew close his steps together, legs and thighs +Compacted, that no sign of juncture soon +Was visible: the tail disparted took +The figure which the spirit lost, its skin +Soft’ning, his indurated to a rind. +The shoulders next I mark’d, that ent’ring join’d +The monster’s arm-pits, whose two shorter feet +So lengthen’d, as the other’s dwindling shrunk. +The feet behind then twisting up became +That part that man conceals, which in the wretch +Was cleft in twain. While both the shadowy smoke +With a new colour veils, and generates +Th’ excrescent pile on one, peeling it off +From th’ other body, lo! upon his feet +One upright rose, and prone the other fell. +Not yet their glaring and malignant lamps +Were shifted, though each feature chang’d beneath. +Of him who stood erect, the mounting face +Retreated towards the temples, and what there +Superfluous matter came, shot out in ears +From the smooth cheeks, the rest, not backward dragg’d, +Of its excess did shape the nose; and swell’d +Into due size protuberant the lips. +He, on the earth who lay, meanwhile extends +His sharpen’d visage, and draws down the ears +Into the head, as doth the slug his horns. +His tongue continuous before and apt +For utt’rance, severs; and the other’s fork +Closing unites. That done the smoke was laid. +The soul, transform’d into the brute, glides off, +Hissing along the vale, and after him +The other talking sputters; but soon turn’d +His new-grown shoulders on him, and in few +Thus to another spake: “Along this path +Crawling, as I have done, speed Buoso now!” + +So saw I fluctuate in successive change +Th’ unsteady ballast of the seventh hold: +And here if aught my tongue have swerv’d, events +So strange may be its warrant. O’er mine eyes +Confusion hung, and on my thoughts amaze. + +Yet ’scap’d they not so covertly, but well +I mark’d Sciancato: he alone it was +Of the three first that came, who chang’d not: thou, +The other’s fate, Gaville, still dost rue. + + + + +CANTO XXVI + + +Florence exult! for thou so mightily +Hast thriven, that o’er land and sea thy wings +Thou beatest, and thy name spreads over hell! +Among the plund’rers such the three I found +Thy citizens, whence shame to me thy son, +And no proud honour to thyself redounds. + +But if our minds, when dreaming near the dawn, +Are of the truth presageful, thou ere long +Shalt feel what Prato, (not to say the rest) +Would fain might come upon thee; and that chance +Were in good time, if it befell thee now. +Would so it were, since it must needs befall! +For as time wears me, I shall grieve the more. + +We from the depth departed; and my guide +Remounting scal’d the flinty steps, which late +We downward trac’d, and drew me up the steep. +Pursuing thus our solitary way +Among the crags and splinters of the rock, +Sped not our feet without the help of hands. + +Then sorrow seiz’d me, which e’en now revives, +As my thought turns again to what I saw, +And, more than I am wont, I rein and curb +The powers of nature in me, lest they run +Where Virtue guides not; that if aught of good +My gentle star, or something better gave me, +I envy not myself the precious boon. + +As in that season, when the sun least veils +His face that lightens all, what time the fly +Gives way to the shrill gnat, the peasant then +Upon some cliff reclin’d, beneath him sees +Fire-flies innumerous spangling o’er the vale, +Vineyard or tilth, where his day-labour lies: +With flames so numberless throughout its space +Shone the eighth chasm, apparent, when the depth +Was to my view expos’d. As he, whose wrongs +The bears aveng’d, at its departure saw +Elijah’s chariot, when the steeds erect +Rais’d their steep flight for heav’n; his eyes meanwhile, +Straining pursu’d them, till the flame alone +Upsoaring like a misty speck he kenn’d; +E’en thus along the gulf moves every flame, +A sinner so enfolded close in each, +That none exhibits token of the theft. + +Upon the bridge I forward bent to look, +And grasp’d a flinty mass, or else had fall’n, +Though push’d not from the height. The guide, who mark’d +How I did gaze attentive, thus began: + +“Within these ardours are the spirits, each +Swath’d in confining fire.”—“Master, thy word,” +I answer’d, “hath assur’d me; yet I deem’d +Already of the truth, already wish’d +To ask thee, who is in yon fire, that comes +So parted at the summit, as it seem’d +Ascending from that funeral pile, where lay +The Theban brothers?” He replied: “Within +Ulysses there and Diomede endure +Their penal tortures, thus to vengeance now +Together hasting, as erewhile to wrath. +These in the flame with ceaseless groans deplore +The ambush of the horse, that open’d wide +A portal for that goodly seed to pass, +Which sow’d imperial Rome; nor less the guile +Lament they, whence of her Achilles ’reft +Deidamia yet in death complains. +And there is rued the stratagem, that Troy +Of her Palladium spoil’d.”—“If they have power +Of utt’rance from within these sparks,” said I, +“O master! think my prayer a thousand fold +In repetition urg’d, that thou vouchsafe +To pause, till here the horned flame arrive. +See, how toward it with desire I bend.” + +He thus: “Thy prayer is worthy of much praise, +And I accept it therefore: but do thou +Thy tongue refrain: to question them be mine, +For I divine thy wish: and they perchance, +For they were Greeks, might shun discourse with thee.” + +When there the flame had come, where time and place +Seem’d fitting to my guide, he thus began: +“O ye, who dwell two spirits in one fire! +If living I of you did merit aught, +Whate’er the measure were of that desert, +When in the world my lofty strain I pour’d, +Move ye not on, till one of you unfold +In what clime death o’ertook him self-destroy’d.” + +Of the old flame forthwith the greater horn +Began to roll, murmuring, as a fire +That labours with the wind, then to and fro +Wagging the top, as a tongue uttering sounds, +Threw out its voice, and spake: “When I escap’d +From Circe, who beyond a circling year +Had held me near Caieta, by her charms, +Ere thus Aeneas yet had nam’d the shore, +Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence +Of my old father, nor return of love, +That should have crown’d Penelope with joy, +Could overcome in me the zeal I had +T’ explore the world, and search the ways of life, +Man’s evil and his virtue. Forth I sail’d +Into the deep illimitable main, +With but one bark, and the small faithful band +That yet cleav’d to me. As Iberia far, +Far as Morocco either shore I saw, +And the Sardinian and each isle beside +Which round that ocean bathes. Tardy with age +Were I and my companions, when we came +To the strait pass, where Hercules ordain’d +The bound’ries not to be o’erstepp’d by man. +The walls of Seville to my right I left, +On the’ other hand already Ceuta past. + +“O brothers!” I began, “who to the west +Through perils without number now have reach’d, +To this the short remaining watch, that yet +Our senses have to wake, refuse not proof +Of the unpeopled world, following the track +Of Phoebus. Call to mind from whence we sprang: +Ye were not form’d to live the life of brutes +But virtue to pursue and knowledge high. +With these few words I sharpen’d for the voyage +The mind of my associates, that I then +Could scarcely have withheld them. To the dawn +Our poop we turn’d, and for the witless flight +Made our oars wings, still gaining on the left. +Each star of the’ other pole night now beheld, +And ours so low, that from the ocean-floor +It rose not. Five times re-illum’d, as oft +Vanish’d the light from underneath the moon +Since the deep way we enter’d, when from far +Appear’d a mountain dim, loftiest methought +Of all I e’er beheld. Joy seiz’d us straight, +But soon to mourning changed. From the new land +A whirlwind sprung, and at her foremost side +Did strike the vessel. Thrice it whirl’d her round +With all the waves, the fourth time lifted up +The poop, and sank the prow: so fate decreed: +And over us the booming billow clos’d.” + + + + +CANTO XVII + + +Now upward rose the flame, and still’d its light +To speak no more, and now pass’d on with leave +From the mild poet gain’d, when following came +Another, from whose top a sound confus’d, +Forth issuing, drew our eyes that way to look. + +As the Sicilian bull, that rightfully +His cries first echoed, who had shap’d its mould, +Did so rebellow, with the voice of him +Tormented, that the brazen monster seem’d +Pierc’d through with pain; thus while no way they found +Nor avenue immediate through the flame, +Into its language turn’d the dismal words: +But soon as they had won their passage forth, +Up from the point, which vibrating obey’d +Their motion at the tongue, these sounds we heard: +“O thou! to whom I now direct my voice! +That lately didst exclaim in Lombard phrase, + +“Depart thou, I solicit thee no more, +Though somewhat tardy I perchance arrive +Let it not irk thee here to pause awhile, +And with me parley: lo! it irks not me +And yet I burn. If but e’en now thou fall +into this blind world, from that pleasant land +Of Latium, whence I draw my sum of guilt, +Tell me if those, who in Romagna dwell, +Have peace or war. For of the mountains there +Was I, betwixt Urbino and the height, +Whence Tyber first unlocks his mighty flood.” + +Leaning I listen’d yet with heedful ear, +When, as he touch’d my side, the leader thus: +“Speak thou: he is a Latian.” My reply +Was ready, and I spake without delay: + +“O spirit! who art hidden here below! +Never was thy Romagna without war +In her proud tyrants’ bosoms, nor is now: +But open war there left I none. The state, +Ravenna hath maintain’d this many a year, +Is steadfast. There Polenta’s eagle broods, +And in his broad circumference of plume +O’ershadows Cervia. The green talons grasp +The land, that stood erewhile the proof so long, +And pil’d in bloody heap the host of France. + +“The’ old mastiff of Verruchio and the young, +That tore Montagna in their wrath, still make, +Where they are wont, an augre of their fangs. + +“Lamone’s city and Santerno’s range +Under the lion of the snowy lair. +Inconstant partisan! that changeth sides, +Or ever summer yields to winter’s frost. +And she, whose flank is wash’d of Savio’s wave, +As ’twixt the level and the steep she lies, +Lives so ’twixt tyrant power and liberty. + +“Now tell us, I entreat thee, who art thou? +Be not more hard than others. In the world, +So may thy name still rear its forehead high.” + +Then roar’d awhile the fire, its sharpen’d point +On either side wav’d, and thus breath’d at last: +“If I did think, my answer were to one, +Who ever could return unto the world, +This flame should rest unshaken. But since ne’er, +If true be told me, any from this depth +Has found his upward way, I answer thee, +Nor fear lest infamy record the words. + +“A man of arms at first, I cloth’d me then +In good Saint Francis’ girdle, hoping so +T’ have made amends. And certainly my hope +Had fail’d not, but that he, whom curses light on, +The’ high priest again seduc’d me into sin. +And how and wherefore listen while I tell. +Long as this spirit mov’d the bones and pulp +My mother gave me, less my deeds bespake +The nature of the lion than the fox. +All ways of winding subtlety I knew, +And with such art conducted, that the sound +Reach’d the world’s limit. Soon as to that part +Of life I found me come, when each behoves +To lower sails and gather in the lines; +That which before had pleased me then I rued, +And to repentance and confession turn’d; +Wretch that I was! and well it had bested me! +The chief of the new Pharisees meantime, +Waging his warfare near the Lateran, +Not with the Saracens or Jews (his foes +All Christians were, nor against Acre one +Had fought, nor traffic’d in the Soldan’s land), +He his great charge nor sacred ministry +In himself, rev’renc’d, nor in me that cord, +Which us’d to mark with leanness whom it girded. +As in Socrate, Constantine besought +To cure his leprosy Sylvester’s aid, +So me to cure the fever of his pride +This man besought: my counsel to that end +He ask’d: and I was silent: for his words +Seem’d drunken: but forthwith he thus resum’d: +‘From thy heart banish fear: of all offence +I hitherto absolve thee. In return, +Teach me my purpose so to execute, +That Penestrino cumber earth no more. +Heav’n, as thou knowest, I have power to shut +And open: and the keys are therefore twain, +The which my predecessor meanly priz’d.’” + +Then, yielding to the forceful arguments, +Of silence as more perilous I deem’d, +And answer’d: “Father! since thou washest me +Clear of that guilt wherein I now must fall, +Large promise with performance scant, be sure, +Shall make thee triumph in thy lofty seat.” + +“When I was number’d with the dead, then came +Saint Francis for me; but a cherub dark +He met, who cried: ‘Wrong me not; he is mine, +And must below to join the wretched crew, +For the deceitful counsel which he gave. +E’er since I watch’d him, hov’ring at his hair, +No power can the impenitent absolve; +Nor to repent and will at once consist, +By contradiction absolute forbid.’” +Oh mis’ry! how I shook myself, when he +Seiz’d me, and cried, “Thou haply thought’st me not +A disputant in logic so exact.” +To Minos down he bore me, and the judge +Twin’d eight times round his callous back the tail, +Which biting with excess of rage, he spake: +“This is a guilty soul, that in the fire +Must vanish. Hence perdition-doom’d I rove +A prey to rankling sorrow in this garb.” + +When he had thus fulfill’d his words, the flame +In dolour parted, beating to and fro, +And writhing its sharp horn. We onward went, +I and my leader, up along the rock, +Far as another arch, that overhangs +The foss, wherein the penalty is paid +Of those, who load them with committed sin. + + + + +CANTO XXVIII + + +Who, e’en in words unfetter’d, might at full +Tell of the wounds and blood that now I saw, +Though he repeated oft the tale? No tongue +So vast a theme could equal, speech and thought +Both impotent alike. If in one band +Collected, stood the people all, who e’er +Pour’d on Apulia’s happy soil their blood, +Slain by the Trojans, and in that long war +When of the rings the measur’d booty made +A pile so high, as Rome’s historian writes +Who errs not, with the multitude, that felt +The grinding force of Guiscard’s Norman steel, +And those the rest, whose bones are gather’d yet +At Ceperano, there where treachery +Branded th’ Apulian name, or where beyond +Thy walls, O Tagliacozzo, without arms +The old Alardo conquer’d; and his limbs +One were to show transpierc’d, another his +Clean lopt away; a spectacle like this +Were but a thing of nought, to the’ hideous sight +Of the ninth chasm. A rundlet, that hath lost +Its middle or side stave, gapes not so wide, +As one I mark’d, torn from the chin throughout +Down to the hinder passage: ’twixt the legs +Dangling his entrails hung, the midriff lay +Open to view, and wretched ventricle, +That turns th’ englutted aliment to dross. + +Whilst eagerly I fix on him my gaze, +He ey’d me, with his hands laid his breast bare, +And cried; “Now mark how I do rip me! lo! + +“How is Mohammed mangled! before me +Walks Ali weeping, from the chin his face +Cleft to the forelock; and the others all +Whom here thou seest, while they liv’d, did sow +Scandal and schism, and therefore thus are rent. +A fiend is here behind, who with his sword +Hacks us thus cruelly, slivering again +Each of this ream, when we have compast round +The dismal way, for first our gashes close +Ere we repass before him. But say who +Art thou, that standest musing on the rock, +Haply so lingering to delay the pain +Sentenc’d upon thy crimes?”—“Him death not yet,” +My guide rejoin’d, “hath overta’en, nor sin +Conducts to torment; but, that he may make +Full trial of your state, I who am dead +Must through the depths of hell, from orb to orb, +Conduct him. Trust my words, for they are true.” + +More than a hundred spirits, when that they heard, +Stood in the foss to mark me, through amazed, +Forgetful of their pangs. “Thou, who perchance +Shalt shortly view the sun, this warning thou +Bear to Dolcino: bid him, if he wish not +Here soon to follow me, that with good store +Of food he arm him, lest impris’ning snows +Yield him a victim to Novara’s power, +No easy conquest else.” With foot uprais’d +For stepping, spake Mohammed, on the ground +Then fix’d it to depart. Another shade, +Pierc’d in the throat, his nostrils mutilate +E’en from beneath the eyebrows, and one ear +Lopt off, who with the rest through wonder stood +Gazing, before the rest advanc’d, and bar’d +His wind-pipe, that without was all o’ersmear’d +With crimson stain. “O thou!” said he, “whom sin +Condemns not, and whom erst (unless too near +Resemblance do deceive me) I aloft +Have seen on Latian ground, call thou to mind +Piero of Medicina, if again +Returning, thou behold’st the pleasant land +That from Vercelli slopes to Mercabo; + +“And there instruct the twain, whom Fano boasts +Her worthiest sons, Guido and Angelo, +That if ’t is giv’n us here to scan aright +The future, they out of life’s tenement +Shall be cast forth, and whelm’d under the waves +Near to Cattolica, through perfidy +Of a fell tyrant. ’Twixt the Cyprian isle +And Balearic, ne’er hath Neptune seen +An injury so foul, by pirates done +Or Argive crew of old. That one-ey’d traitor +(Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain +His eye had still lack’d sight of) them shall bring +To conf’rence with him, then so shape his end, +That they shall need not ’gainst Focara’s wind +Offer up vow nor pray’r.” I answering thus: + +“Declare, as thou dost wish that I above +May carry tidings of thee, who is he, +In whom that sight doth wake such sad remembrance?” + +Forthwith he laid his hand on the cheek-bone +Of one, his fellow-spirit, and his jaws +Expanding, cried: “Lo! this is he I wot of; +He speaks not for himself: the outcast this +Who overwhelm’d the doubt in Caesar’s mind, +Affirming that delay to men prepar’d +Was ever harmful.” Oh how terrified +Methought was Curio, from whose throat was cut +The tongue, which spake that hardy word. Then one +Maim’d of each hand, uplifted in the gloom +The bleeding stumps, that they with gory spots +Sullied his face, and cried: “‘Remember thee +Of Mosca, too, I who, alas! exclaim’d, +‘The deed once done there is an end,’ that prov’d +A seed of sorrow to the Tuscan race.” + +I added: “Ay, and death to thine own tribe.” + +Whence heaping woe on woe he hurried off, +As one grief stung to madness. But I there +Still linger’d to behold the troop, and saw +Things, such as I may fear without more proof +To tell of, but that conscience makes me firm, +The boon companion, who her strong breast-plate +Buckles on him, that feels no guilt within +And bids him on and fear not. Without doubt +I saw, and yet it seems to pass before me, +A headless trunk, that even as the rest +Of the sad flock pac’d onward. By the hair +It bore the sever’d member, lantern-wise +Pendent in hand, which look’d at us and said, + +“Woe’s me!” The spirit lighted thus himself, +And two there were in one, and one in two. +How that may be he knows who ordereth so. + +When at the bridge’s foot direct he stood, +His arm aloft he rear’d, thrusting the head +Full in our view, that nearer we might hear +The words, which thus it utter’d: “Now behold +This grievous torment, thou, who breathing go’st +To spy the dead; behold if any else +Be terrible as this. And that on earth +Thou mayst bear tidings of me, know that I +Am Bertrand, he of Born, who gave King John +The counsel mischievous. Father and son +I set at mutual war. For Absalom +And David more did not Ahitophel, +Spurring them on maliciously to strife. +For parting those so closely knit, my brain +Parted, alas! I carry from its source, +That in this trunk inhabits. Thus the law +Of retribution fiercely works in me.” + + + + +CANTO XXIX + + +So were mine eyes inebriate with view +Of the vast multitude, whom various wounds +Disfigur’d, that they long’d to stay and weep. + +But Virgil rous’d me: “What yet gazest on? +Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight below +Among the maim’d and miserable shades? +Thou hast not shewn in any chasm beside +This weakness. Know, if thou wouldst number them +That two and twenty miles the valley winds +Its circuit, and already is the moon +Beneath our feet: the time permitted now +Is short, and more not seen remains to see.” + +“If thou,” I straight replied, “hadst weigh’d the cause +For which I look’d, thou hadst perchance excus’d +The tarrying still.” My leader part pursu’d +His way, the while I follow’d, answering him, +And adding thus: “Within that cave I deem, +Whereon so fixedly I held my ken, +There is a spirit dwells, one of my blood, +Wailing the crime that costs him now so dear.” + +Then spake my master: “Let thy soul no more +Afflict itself for him. Direct elsewhere +Its thought, and leave him. At the bridge’s foot +I mark’d how he did point with menacing look +At thee, and heard him by the others nam’d +Geri of Bello. Thou so wholly then +Wert busied with his spirit, who once rul’d +The towers of Hautefort, that thou lookedst not +That way, ere he was gone.”—“O guide belov’d! +His violent death yet unaveng’d,” said I, +“By any, who are partners in his shame, +Made him contemptuous: therefore, as I think, +He pass’d me speechless by; and doing so +Hath made me more compassionate his fate.” + +So we discours’d to where the rock first show’d +The other valley, had more light been there, +E’en to the lowest depth. Soon as we came +O’er the last cloister in the dismal rounds +Of Malebolge, and the brotherhood +Were to our view expos’d, then many a dart +Of sore lament assail’d me, headed all +With points of thrilling pity, that I clos’d +Both ears against the volley with mine hands. + +As were the torment, if each lazar-house +Of Valdichiana, in the sultry time +’Twixt July and September, with the isle +Sardinia and Maremma’s pestilent fen, +Had heap’d their maladies all in one foss +Together; such was here the torment: dire +The stench, as issuing steams from fester’d limbs. + +We on the utmost shore of the long rock +Descended still to leftward. Then my sight +Was livelier to explore the depth, wherein +The minister of the most mighty Lord, +All-searching Justice, dooms to punishment +The forgers noted on her dread record. + +More rueful was it not methinks to see +The nation in Aegina droop, what time +Each living thing, e’en to the little worm, +All fell, so full of malice was the air +(And afterward, as bards of yore have told, +The ancient people were restor’d anew +From seed of emmets) than was here to see +The spirits, that languish’d through the murky vale +Up-pil’d on many a stack. Confus’d they lay, +One o’er the belly, o’er the shoulders one +Roll’d of another; sideling crawl’d a third +Along the dismal pathway. Step by step +We journey’d on, in silence looking round +And list’ning those diseas’d, who strove in vain +To lift their forms. Then two I mark’d, that sat +Propp’d ’gainst each other, as two brazen pans +Set to retain the heat. From head to foot, +A tetter bark’d them round. Nor saw I e’er +Groom currying so fast, for whom his lord +Impatient waited, or himself perchance +Tir’d with long watching, as of these each one +Plied quickly his keen nails, through furiousness +Of ne’er abated pruriency. The crust +Came drawn from underneath in flakes, like scales +Scrap’d from the bream or fish of broader mail. + +“O thou, who with thy fingers rendest off +Thy coat of proof,” thus spake my guide to one, +“And sometimes makest tearing pincers of them, +Tell me if any born of Latian land +Be among these within: so may thy nails +Serve thee for everlasting to this toil.” + +“Both are of Latium,” weeping he replied, +“Whom tortur’d thus thou seest: but who art thou +That hast inquir’d of us?” To whom my guide: +“One that descend with this man, who yet lives, +From rock to rock, and show him hell’s abyss.” + +Then started they asunder, and each turn’d +Trembling toward us, with the rest, whose ear +Those words redounding struck. To me my liege +Address’d him: “Speak to them whate’er thou list.” + +And I therewith began: “So may no time +Filch your remembrance from the thoughts of men +In th’ upper world, but after many suns +Survive it, as ye tell me, who ye are, +And of what race ye come. Your punishment, +Unseemly and disgustful in its kind, +Deter you not from opening thus much to me.” + +“Arezzo was my dwelling,” answer’d one, +“And me Albero of Sienna brought +To die by fire; but that, for which I died, +Leads me not here. True is in sport I told him, +That I had learn’d to wing my flight in air. +And he admiring much, as he was void +Of wisdom, will’d me to declare to him +The secret of mine art: and only hence, +Because I made him not a Daedalus, +Prevail’d on one suppos’d his sire to burn me. +But Minos to this chasm last of the ten, +For that I practis’d alchemy on earth, +Has doom’d me. Him no subterfuge eludes.” + +Then to the bard I spake: “Was ever race +Light as Sienna’s? Sure not France herself +Can show a tribe so frivolous and vain.” + +The other leprous spirit heard my words, +And thus return’d: “Be Stricca from this charge +Exempted, he who knew so temp’rately +To lay out fortune’s gifts; and Niccolo +Who first the spice’s costly luxury +Discover’d in that garden, where such seed +Roots deepest in the soil: and be that troop +Exempted, with whom Caccia of Asciano +Lavish’d his vineyards and wide-spreading woods, +And his rare wisdom Abbagliato show’d +A spectacle for all. That thou mayst know +Who seconds thee against the Siennese +Thus gladly, bend this way thy sharpen’d sight, +That well my face may answer to thy ken; +So shalt thou see I am Capocchio’s ghost, +Who forg’d transmuted metals by the power +Of alchemy; and if I scan thee right, +Thus needs must well remember how I aped +Creative nature by my subtle art.” + + + + +CANTO XXX + + +What time resentment burn’d in Juno’s breast +For Semele against the Theban blood, +As more than once in dire mischance was rued, +Such fatal frenzy seiz’d on Athamas, +That he his spouse beholding with a babe +Laden on either arm, “Spread out,” he cried, +“The meshes, that I take the lioness +And the young lions at the pass:” then forth +Stretch’d he his merciless talons, grasping one, +One helpless innocent, Learchus nam’d, +Whom swinging down he dash’d upon a rock, +And with her other burden self-destroy’d +The hapless mother plung’d: and when the pride +Of all-presuming Troy fell from its height, +By fortune overwhelm’d, and the old king +With his realm perish’d, then did Hecuba, +A wretch forlorn and captive, when she saw +Polyxena first slaughter’d, and her son, +Her Polydorus, on the wild sea-beach +Next met the mourner’s view, then reft of sense +Did she run barking even as a dog; +Such mighty power had grief to wrench her soul. +Bet ne’er the Furies or of Thebes or Troy +With such fell cruelty were seen, their goads +Infixing in the limbs of man or beast, +As now two pale and naked ghost I saw +That gnarling wildly scamper’d, like the swine +Excluded from his stye. One reach’d Capocchio, +And in the neck-joint sticking deep his fangs, +Dragg’d him, that o’er the solid pavement rubb’d +His belly stretch’d out prone. The other shape, +He of Arezzo, there left trembling, spake; +“That sprite of air is Schicchi; in like mood +Of random mischief vent he still his spite.” + +To whom I answ’ring: “Oh! as thou dost hope, +The other may not flesh its jaws on thee, +Be patient to inform us, who it is, +Ere it speed hence.”—“That is the ancient soul +Of wretched Myrrha,” he replied, “who burn’d +With most unholy flame for her own sire, + +“And a false shape assuming, so perform’d +The deed of sin; e’en as the other there, +That onward passes, dar’d to counterfeit +Donati’s features, to feign’d testament +The seal affixing, that himself might gain, +For his own share, the lady of the herd.” + +When vanish’d the two furious shades, on whom +Mine eye was held, I turn’d it back to view +The other cursed spirits. One I saw +In fashion like a lute, had but the groin +Been sever’d, where it meets the forked part. +Swoln dropsy, disproportioning the limbs +With ill-converted moisture, that the paunch +Suits not the visage, open’d wide his lips +Gasping as in the hectic man for drought, +One towards the chin, the other upward curl’d. + +“O ye, who in this world of misery, +Wherefore I know not, are exempt from pain,” +Thus he began, “attentively regard +Adamo’s woe. When living, full supply +Ne’er lack’d me of what most I coveted; +One drop of water now, alas! I crave. +The rills, that glitter down the grassy slopes +Of Casentino, making fresh and soft +The banks whereby they glide to Arno’s stream, +Stand ever in my view; and not in vain; +For more the pictur’d semblance dries me up, +Much more than the disease, which makes the flesh +Desert these shrivel’d cheeks. So from the place, +Where I transgress’d, stern justice urging me, +Takes means to quicken more my lab’ring sighs. +There is Romena, where I falsified +The metal with the Baptist’s form imprest, +For which on earth I left my body burnt. +But if I here might see the sorrowing soul +Of Guido, Alessandro, or their brother, +For Branda’s limpid spring I would not change +The welcome sight. One is e’en now within, +If truly the mad spirits tell, that round +Are wand’ring. But wherein besteads me that? +My limbs are fetter’d. Were I but so light, +That I each hundred years might move one inch, +I had set forth already on this path, +Seeking him out amidst the shapeless crew, +Although eleven miles it wind, not more +Than half of one across. They brought me down +Among this tribe; induc’d by them I stamp’d +The florens with three carats of alloy.” + +“Who are that abject pair,” I next inquir’d, +“That closely bounding thee upon thy right +Lie smoking, like a band in winter steep’d +In the chill stream?”—“When to this gulf I dropt,” +He answer’d, “here I found them; since that hour +They have not turn’d, nor ever shall, I ween, +Till time hath run his course. One is that dame +The false accuser of the Hebrew youth; +Sinon the other, that false Greek from Troy. +Sharp fever drains the reeky moistness out, +In such a cloud upsteam’d.” When that he heard, +One, gall’d perchance to be so darkly nam’d, +With clench’d hand smote him on the braced paunch, +That like a drum resounded: but forthwith +Adamo smote him on the face, the blow +Returning with his arm, that seem’d as hard. + +“Though my o’erweighty limbs have ta’en from me +The power to move,” said he, “I have an arm +At liberty for such employ.” To whom +Was answer’d: “When thou wentest to the fire, +Thou hadst it not so ready at command, +Then readier when it coin’d th’ impostor gold.” + +And thus the dropsied: “Ay, now speak’st thou true. +But there thou gav’st not such true testimony, +When thou wast question’d of the truth, at Troy.” + +“If I spake false, thou falsely stamp’dst the coin,” +Said Sinon; “I am here but for one fault, +And thou for more than any imp beside.” + +“Remember,” he replied, “O perjur’d one, +The horse remember, that did teem with death, +And all the world be witness to thy guilt.” + +“To thine,” return’d the Greek, “witness the thirst +Whence thy tongue cracks, witness the fluid mound, +Rear’d by thy belly up before thine eyes, +A mass corrupt.” To whom the coiner thus: +“Thy mouth gapes wide as ever to let pass +Its evil saying. Me if thirst assails, +Yet I am stuff’d with moisture. Thou art parch’d, +Pains rack thy head, no urging would’st thou need +To make thee lap Narcissus’ mirror up.” + +I was all fix’d to listen, when my guide +Admonish’d: “Now beware: a little more. +And I do quarrel with thee.” I perceiv’d +How angrily he spake, and towards him turn’d +With shame so poignant, as remember’d yet +Confounds me. As a man that dreams of harm +Befall’n him, dreaming wishes it a dream, +And that which is, desires as if it were not, +Such then was I, who wanting power to speak +Wish’d to excuse myself, and all the while +Excus’d me, though unweeting that I did. + +“More grievous fault than thine has been, less shame,” +My master cried, “might expiate. Therefore cast +All sorrow from thy soul; and if again +Chance bring thee, where like conference is held, +Think I am ever at thy side. To hear +Such wrangling is a joy for vulgar minds.” + + + + +CANTO XXXI + + +The very tongue, whose keen reproof before +Had wounded me, that either cheek was stain’d, +Now minister’d my cure. So have I heard, +Achilles and his father’s javelin caus’d +Pain first, and then the boon of health restor’d. + +Turning our back upon the vale of woe, +W cross’d th’ encircled mound in silence. There +Was twilight dim, that far long the gloom +Mine eye advanc’d not: but I heard a horn +Sounded aloud. The peal it blew had made +The thunder feeble. Following its course +The adverse way, my strained eyes were bent +On that one spot. So terrible a blast +Orlando blew not, when that dismal rout +O’erthrew the host of Charlemagne, and quench’d +His saintly warfare. Thitherward not long +My head was rais’d, when many lofty towers +Methought I spied. “Master,” said I, “what land +Is this?” He answer’d straight: “Too long a space +Of intervening darkness has thine eye +To traverse: thou hast therefore widely err’d +In thy imagining. Thither arriv’d +Thou well shalt see, how distance can delude +The sense. A little therefore urge thee on.” + +Then tenderly he caught me by the hand; +“Yet know,” said he, “ere farther we advance, +That it less strange may seem, these are not towers, +But giants. In the pit they stand immers’d, +Each from his navel downward, round the bank.” + +As when a fog disperseth gradually, +Our vision traces what the mist involves +Condens’d in air; so piercing through the gross +And gloomy atmosphere, as more and more +We near’d toward the brink, mine error fled, +And fear came o’er me. As with circling round +Of turrets, Montereggion crowns his walls, +E’en thus the shore, encompassing th’ abyss, +Was turreted with giants, half their length +Uprearing, horrible, whom Jove from heav’n +Yet threatens, when his mutt’ring thunder rolls. + +Of one already I descried the face, +Shoulders, and breast, and of the belly huge +Great part, and both arms down along his ribs. + +All-teeming nature, when her plastic hand +Left framing of these monsters, did display +Past doubt her wisdom, taking from mad War +Such slaves to do his bidding; and if she +Repent her not of th’ elephant and whale, +Who ponders well confesses her therein +Wiser and more discreet; for when brute force +And evil will are back’d with subtlety, +Resistance none avails. His visage seem’d +In length and bulk, as doth the pine, that tops +Saint Peter’s Roman fane; and th’ other bones +Of like proportion, so that from above +The bank, which girdled him below, such height +Arose his stature, that three Friezelanders +Had striv’n in vain to reach but to his hair. +Full thirty ample palms was he expos’d +Downward from whence a man his garments loops. +“Raphel bai ameth sabi almi,” +So shouted his fierce lips, which sweeter hymns +Became not; and my guide address’d him thus: + +“O senseless spirit! let thy horn for thee +Interpret: therewith vent thy rage, if rage +Or other passion wring thee. Search thy neck, +There shalt thou find the belt that binds it on. +Wild spirit! lo, upon thy mighty breast +Where hangs the baldrick!” Then to me he spake: +“He doth accuse himself. Nimrod is this, +Through whose ill counsel in the world no more +One tongue prevails. But pass we on, nor waste +Our words; for so each language is to him, +As his to others, understood by none.” + +Then to the leftward turning sped we forth, +And at a sling’s throw found another shade +Far fiercer and more huge. I cannot say +What master hand had girt him; but he held +Behind the right arm fetter’d, and before +The other with a chain, that fasten’d him +From the neck down, and five times round his form +Apparent met the wreathed links. “This proud one +Would of his strength against almighty Jove +Make trial,” said my guide; “whence he is thus +Requited: Ephialtes him they call. + +“Great was his prowess, when the giants brought +Fear on the gods: those arms, which then he piled, +Now moves he never.” Forthwith I return’d: +“Fain would I, if ’t were possible, mine eyes +Of Briareus immeasurable gain’d +Experience next.” He answer’d: “Thou shalt see +Not far from hence Antaeus, who both speaks +And is unfetter’d, who shall place us there +Where guilt is at its depth. Far onward stands +Whom thou wouldst fain behold, in chains, and made +Like to this spirit, save that in his looks +More fell he seems.” By violent earthquake rock’d +Ne’er shook a tow’r, so reeling to its base, +As Ephialtes. More than ever then +I dreaded death, nor than the terror more +Had needed, if I had not seen the cords +That held him fast. We, straightway journeying on, +Came to Antaeus, who five ells complete +Without the head, forth issued from the cave. + +“O thou, who in the fortunate vale, that made +Great Scipio heir of glory, when his sword +Drove back the troop of Hannibal in flight, +Who thence of old didst carry for thy spoil +An hundred lions; and if thou hadst fought +In the high conflict on thy brethren’s side, +Seems as men yet believ’d, that through thine arm +The sons of earth had conquer’d, now vouchsafe +To place us down beneath, where numbing cold +Locks up Cocytus. Force not that we crave +Or Tityus’ help or Typhon’s. Here is one +Can give what in this realm ye covet. Stoop +Therefore, nor scornfully distort thy lip. +He in the upper world can yet bestow +Renown on thee, for he doth live, and looks +For life yet longer, if before the time +Grace call him not unto herself.” Thus spake +The teacher. He in haste forth stretch’d his hands, +And caught my guide. Alcides whilom felt +That grapple straighten’d score. Soon as my guide +Had felt it, he bespake me thus: “This way +That I may clasp thee;” then so caught me up, +That we were both one burden. As appears +The tower of Carisenda, from beneath +Where it doth lean, if chance a passing cloud +So sail across, that opposite it hangs, +Such then Antaeus seem’d, as at mine ease +I mark’d him stooping. I were fain at times +T’ have pass’d another way. Yet in th’ abyss, +That Lucifer with Judas low ingulfs, +Lightly he plac’d us; nor there leaning stay’d, +But rose as in a bark the stately mast. + + + + +CANTO XXXII + + +Could I command rough rhimes and hoarse, to suit +That hole of sorrow, o’er which ev’ry rock +His firm abutment rears, then might the vein +Of fancy rise full springing: but not mine +Such measures, and with falt’ring awe I touch +The mighty theme; for to describe the depth +Of all the universe, is no emprize +To jest with, and demands a tongue not us’d +To infant babbling. But let them assist +My song, the tuneful maidens, by whose aid +Amphion wall’d in Thebes, so with the truth +My speech shall best accord. Oh ill-starr’d folk, +Beyond all others wretched! who abide +In such a mansion, as scarce thought finds words +To speak of, better had ye here on earth +Been flocks or mountain goats. As down we stood +In the dark pit beneath the giants’ feet, +But lower far than they, and I did gaze +Still on the lofty battlement, a voice +Bespoke me thus: “Look how thou walkest. Take +Good heed, thy soles do tread not on the heads +Of thy poor brethren.” Thereupon I turn’d, +And saw before and underneath my feet +A lake, whose frozen surface liker seem’d +To glass than water. Not so thick a veil +In winter e’er hath Austrian Danube spread +O’er his still course, nor Tanais far remote +Under the chilling sky. Roll’d o’er that mass +Had Tabernich or Pietrapana fall’n, + +Not e’en its rim had creak’d. As peeps the frog +Croaking above the wave, what time in dreams +The village gleaner oft pursues her toil, +So, to where modest shame appears, thus low +Blue pinch’d and shrin’d in ice the spirits stood, +Moving their teeth in shrill note like the stork. +His face each downward held; their mouth the cold, +Their eyes express’d the dolour of their heart. + +A space I look’d around, then at my feet +Saw two so strictly join’d, that of their head +The very hairs were mingled. “Tell me ye, +Whose bosoms thus together press,” said I, +“Who are ye?” At that sound their necks they bent, +And when their looks were lifted up to me, +Straightway their eyes, before all moist within, +Distill’d upon their lips, and the frost bound +The tears betwixt those orbs and held them there. +Plank unto plank hath never cramp clos’d up +So stoutly. Whence like two enraged goats +They clash’d together; them such fury seiz’d. + +And one, from whom the cold both ears had reft, +Exclaim’d, still looking downward: “Why on us +Dost speculate so long? If thou wouldst know +Who are these two, the valley, whence his wave +Bisenzio slopes, did for its master own +Their sire Alberto, and next him themselves. +They from one body issued; and throughout +Caina thou mayst search, nor find a shade +More worthy in congealment to be fix’d, +Not him, whose breast and shadow Arthur’s land +At that one blow dissever’d, not Focaccia, +No not this spirit, whose o’erjutting head +Obstructs my onward view: he bore the name +Of Mascheroni: Tuscan if thou be, +Well knowest who he was: and to cut short +All further question, in my form behold +What once was Camiccione. I await +Carlino here my kinsman, whose deep guilt +Shall wash out mine.” A thousand visages +Then mark’d I, which the keen and eager cold +Had shap’d into a doggish grin; whence creeps +A shiv’ring horror o’er me, at the thought +Of those frore shallows. While we journey’d on +Toward the middle, at whose point unites +All heavy substance, and I trembling went +Through that eternal chillness, I know not +If will it were or destiny, or chance, +But, passing ’midst the heads, my foot did strike +With violent blow against the face of one. + +“Wherefore dost bruise me?” weeping, he exclaim’d, +“Unless thy errand be some fresh revenge +For Montaperto, wherefore troublest me?” + +I thus: “Instructor, now await me here, +That I through him may rid me of my doubt. +Thenceforth what haste thou wilt.” The teacher paus’d, +And to that shade I spake, who bitterly +Still curs’d me in his wrath. “What art thou, speak, +That railest thus on others?” He replied: +“Now who art thou, that smiting others’ cheeks +Through Antenora roamest, with such force +As were past suff’rance, wert thou living still?” + +“And I am living, to thy joy perchance,” +Was my reply, “if fame be dear to thee, +That with the rest I may thy name enrol.” + +“The contrary of what I covet most,” +Said he, “thou tender’st: hence; nor vex me more. +Ill knowest thou to flatter in this vale.” + +Then seizing on his hinder scalp, I cried: +“Name thee, or not a hair shall tarry here.” + +“Rend all away,” he answer’d, “yet for that +I will not tell nor show thee who I am, +Though at my head thou pluck a thousand times.” + +Now I had grasp’d his tresses, and stript off +More than one tuft, he barking, with his eyes +Drawn in and downward, when another cried, +“What ails thee, Bocca? Sound not loud enough +Thy chatt’ring teeth, but thou must bark outright? +What devil wrings thee?”—“Now,” said I, “be dumb, +Accursed traitor! to thy shame of thee +True tidings will I bear.”—“Off,” he replied, +“Tell what thou list; but as thou escape from hence +To speak of him whose tongue hath been so glib, +Forget not: here he wails the Frenchman’s gold. +‘Him of Duera,’ thou canst say, ‘I mark’d, +Where the starv’d sinners pine.’ If thou be ask’d +What other shade was with them, at thy side +Is Beccaria, whose red gorge distain’d +The biting axe of Florence. Farther on, +If I misdeem not, Soldanieri bides, +With Ganellon, and Tribaldello, him +Who op’d Faenza when the people slept.” + +We now had left him, passing on our way, +When I beheld two spirits by the ice +Pent in one hollow, that the head of one +Was cowl unto the other; and as bread +Is raven’d up through hunger, th’ uppermost +Did so apply his fangs to th’ other’s brain, +Where the spine joins it. Not more furiously +On Menalippus’ temples Tydeus gnaw’d, +Than on that skull and on its garbage he. + +“O thou who show’st so beastly sign of hate +’Gainst him thou prey’st on, let me hear,” said I +“The cause, on such condition, that if right +Warrant thy grievance, knowing who ye are, +And what the colour of his sinning was, +I may repay thee in the world above, +If that, wherewith I speak be moist so long.” + + + + +CANTO XXXIII + + +His jaws uplifting from their fell repast, +That sinner wip’d them on the hairs o’ th’ head, +Which he behind had mangled, then began: +“Thy will obeying, I call up afresh +Sorrow past cure, which but to think of wrings +My heart, or ere I tell on’t. But if words, +That I may utter, shall prove seed to bear +Fruit of eternal infamy to him, +The traitor whom I gnaw at, thou at once +Shalt see me speak and weep. Who thou mayst be +I know not, nor how here below art come: +But Florentine thou seemest of a truth, +When I do hear thee. Know I was on earth +Count Ugolino, and th’ Archbishop he +Ruggieri. Why I neighbour him so close, +Now list. That through effect of his ill thoughts +In him my trust reposing, I was ta’en +And after murder’d, need is not I tell. +What therefore thou canst not have heard, that is, +How cruel was the murder, shalt thou hear, +And know if he have wrong’d me. A small grate +Within that mew, which for my sake the name +Of famine bears, where others yet must pine, +Already through its opening sev’ral moons +Had shown me, when I slept the evil sleep, +That from the future tore the curtain off. +This one, methought, as master of the sport, +Rode forth to chase the gaunt wolf and his whelps +Unto the mountain, which forbids the sight +Of Lucca to the Pisan. With lean brachs +Inquisitive and keen, before him rang’d +Lanfranchi with Sismondi and Gualandi. +After short course the father and the sons +Seem’d tir’d and lagging, and methought I saw +The sharp tusks gore their sides. When I awoke +Before the dawn, amid their sleep I heard +My sons (for they were with me) weep and ask +For bread. Right cruel art thou, if no pang +Thou feel at thinking what my heart foretold; +And if not now, why use thy tears to flow? +Now had they waken’d; and the hour drew near +When they were wont to bring us food; the mind +Of each misgave him through his dream, and I +Heard, at its outlet underneath lock’d up +The’ horrible tower: whence uttering not a word +I look’d upon the visage of my sons. +I wept not: so all stone I felt within. +They wept: and one, my little Anslem, cried: +“Thou lookest so! Father what ails thee?” Yet +I shed no tear, nor answer’d all that day +Nor the next night, until another sun +Came out upon the world. When a faint beam +Had to our doleful prison made its way, +And in four countenances I descry’d +The image of my own, on either hand +Through agony I bit, and they who thought +I did it through desire of feeding, rose +O’ th’ sudden, and cried, ‘Father, we should grieve +Far less, if thou wouldst eat of us: thou gav’st +These weeds of miserable flesh we wear, + +‘And do thou strip them off from us again.’ +Then, not to make them sadder, I kept down +My spirit in stillness. That day and the next +We all were silent. Ah, obdurate earth! +Why open’dst not upon us? When we came +To the fourth day, then Geddo at my feet +Outstretch’d did fling him, crying, ‘Hast no help +For me, my father!’ There he died, and e’en +Plainly as thou seest me, saw I the three +Fall one by one ’twixt the fifth day and sixth: + +“Whence I betook me now grown blind to grope +Over them all, and for three days aloud +Call’d on them who were dead. Then fasting got +The mastery of grief.” Thus having spoke, + +Once more upon the wretched skull his teeth +He fasten’d, like a mastiff’s ’gainst the bone +Firm and unyielding. Oh thou Pisa! shame +Of all the people, who their dwelling make +In that fair region, where th’ Italian voice +Is heard, since that thy neighbours are so slack +To punish, from their deep foundations rise +Capraia and Gorgona, and dam up +The mouth of Arno, that each soul in thee +May perish in the waters! What if fame +Reported that thy castles were betray’d +By Ugolino, yet no right hadst thou +To stretch his children on the rack. For them, +Brigata, Ugaccione, and the pair +Of gentle ones, of whom my song hath told, +Their tender years, thou modern Thebes! did make +Uncapable of guilt. Onward we pass’d, +Where others skarf’d in rugged folds of ice +Not on their feet were turn’d, but each revers’d. + +There very weeping suffers not to weep; +For at their eyes grief seeking passage finds +Impediment, and rolling inward turns +For increase of sharp anguish: the first tears +Hang cluster’d, and like crystal vizors show, +Under the socket brimming all the cup. + +Now though the cold had from my face dislodg’d +Each feeling, as ’t were callous, yet me seem’d +Some breath of wind I felt. “Whence cometh this,” +Said I, “my master? Is not here below +All vapour quench’d?”—“‘Thou shalt be speedily,” +He answer’d, “where thine eye shall tell thee whence +The cause descrying of this airy shower.” + +Then cried out one in the chill crust who mourn’d: +“O souls so cruel! that the farthest post +Hath been assign’d you, from this face remove +The harden’d veil, that I may vent the grief +Impregnate at my heart, some little space +Ere it congeal again!” I thus replied: +“Say who thou wast, if thou wouldst have mine aid; +And if I extricate thee not, far down +As to the lowest ice may I descend!” + +“The friar Alberigo,” answered he, +“Am I, who from the evil garden pluck’d +Its fruitage, and am here repaid, the date +More luscious for my fig.”—“Hah!” I exclaim’d, +“Art thou too dead!”—“How in the world aloft +It fareth with my body,” answer’d he, +“I am right ignorant. Such privilege +Hath Ptolomea, that ofttimes the soul +Drops hither, ere by Atropos divorc’d. +And that thou mayst wipe out more willingly +The glazed tear-drops that o’erlay mine eyes, +Know that the soul, that moment she betrays, +As I did, yields her body to a fiend +Who after moves and governs it at will, +Till all its time be rounded; headlong she +Falls to this cistern. And perchance above +Doth yet appear the body of a ghost, +Who here behind me winters. Him thou know’st, +If thou but newly art arriv’d below. +The years are many that have pass’d away, +Since to this fastness Branca Doria came.” + +“Now,” answer’d I, “methinks thou mockest me, +For Branca Doria never yet hath died, +But doth all natural functions of a man, +Eats, drinks, and sleeps, and putteth raiment on.” + +He thus: “Not yet unto that upper foss +By th’ evil talons guarded, where the pitch +Tenacious boils, had Michael Zanche reach’d, +When this one left a demon in his stead +In his own body, and of one his kin, +Who with him treachery wrought. But now put forth +Thy hand, and ope mine eyes.” I op’d them not. +Ill manners were best courtesy to him. + +Ah Genoese! men perverse in every way, +With every foulness stain’d, why from the earth +Are ye not cancel’d? Such an one of yours +I with Romagna’s darkest spirit found, +As for his doings even now in soul +Is in Cocytus plung’d, and yet doth seem +In body still alive upon the earth. + + + + +CANTO XXXIV + + +“The banners of Hell’s Monarch do come forth +Towards us; therefore look,” so spake my guide, +“If thou discern him.” As, when breathes a cloud +Heavy and dense, or when the shades of night +Fall on our hemisphere, seems view’d from far +A windmill, which the blast stirs briskly round, +Such was the fabric then methought I saw, + +To shield me from the wind, forthwith I drew +Behind my guide: no covert else was there. + +Now came I (and with fear I bid my strain +Record the marvel) where the souls were all +Whelm’d underneath, transparent, as through glass +Pellucid the frail stem. Some prone were laid, +Others stood upright, this upon the soles, +That on his head, a third with face to feet +Arch’d like a bow. When to the point we came, +Whereat my guide was pleas’d that I should see +The creature eminent in beauty once, +He from before me stepp’d and made me pause. + +“Lo!” he exclaim’d, “lo Dis! and lo the place, +Where thou hast need to arm thy heart with strength.” + +How frozen and how faint I then became, +Ask me not, reader! for I write it not, +Since words would fail to tell thee of my state. +I was not dead nor living. Think thyself +If quick conception work in thee at all, +How I did feel. That emperor, who sways +The realm of sorrow, at mid breast from th’ ice +Stood forth; and I in stature am more like +A giant, than the giants are in his arms. +Mark now how great that whole must be, which suits +With such a part. If he were beautiful +As he is hideous now, and yet did dare +To scowl upon his Maker, well from him +May all our mis’ry flow. Oh what a sight! +How passing strange it seem’d, when I did spy +Upon his head three faces: one in front +Of hue vermilion, th’ other two with this +Midway each shoulder join’d and at the crest; +The right ’twixt wan and yellow seem’d: the left +To look on, such as come from whence old Nile +Stoops to the lowlands. Under each shot forth +Two mighty wings, enormous as became +A bird so vast. Sails never such I saw +Outstretch’d on the wide sea. No plumes had they, +But were in texture like a bat, and these +He flapp’d i’ th’ air, that from him issued still +Three winds, wherewith Cocytus to its depth +Was frozen. At six eyes he wept: the tears +Adown three chins distill’d with bloody foam. +At every mouth his teeth a sinner champ’d +Bruis’d as with pond’rous engine, so that three +Were in this guise tormented. But far more +Than from that gnawing, was the foremost pang’d +By the fierce rending, whence ofttimes the back +Was stript of all its skin. “That upper spirit, +Who hath worse punishment,” so spake my guide, +“Is Judas, he that hath his head within +And plies the feet without. Of th’ other two, +Whose heads are under, from the murky jaw +Who hangs, is Brutus: lo! how he doth writhe +And speaks not! Th’ other Cassius, that appears +So large of limb. But night now re-ascends, +And it is time for parting. All is seen.” + +I clipp’d him round the neck, for so he bade; +And noting time and place, he, when the wings +Enough were op’d, caught fast the shaggy sides, +And down from pile to pile descending stepp’d +Between the thick fell and the jagged ice. + +Soon as he reach’d the point, whereat the thigh +Upon the swelling of the haunches turns, +My leader there with pain and struggling hard +Turn’d round his head, where his feet stood before, +And grappled at the fell, as one who mounts, +That into hell methought we turn’d again. + +“Expect that by such stairs as these,” thus spake +The teacher, panting like a man forespent, +“We must depart from evil so extreme.” +Then at a rocky opening issued forth, +And plac’d me on a brink to sit, next join’d +With wary step my side. I rais’d mine eyes, +Believing that I Lucifer should see +Where he was lately left, but saw him now +With legs held upward. Let the grosser sort, +Who see not what the point was I had pass’d, +Bethink them if sore toil oppress’d me then. + +“Arise,” my master cried, “upon thy feet. +The way is long, and much uncouth the road; +And now within one hour and half of noon +The sun returns.” It was no palace-hall +Lofty and luminous wherein we stood, +But natural dungeon where ill footing was +And scant supply of light. “Ere from th’ abyss +I sep’rate,” thus when risen I began, +“My guide! vouchsafe few words to set me free +From error’s thralldom. Where is now the ice? +How standeth he in posture thus revers’d? +And how from eve to morn in space so brief +Hath the sun made his transit?” He in few +Thus answering spake: “Thou deemest thou art still +On th’ other side the centre, where I grasp’d +Th’ abhorred worm, that boreth through the world. +Thou wast on th’ other side, so long as I +Descended; when I turn’d, thou didst o’erpass +That point, to which from ev’ry part is dragg’d +All heavy substance. Thou art now arriv’d +Under the hemisphere opposed to that, +Which the great continent doth overspread, +And underneath whose canopy expir’d +The Man, that was born sinless, and so liv’d. +Thy feet are planted on the smallest sphere, +Whose other aspect is Judecca. Morn +Here rises, when there evening sets: and he, +Whose shaggy pile was scal’d, yet standeth fix’d, +As at the first. On this part he fell down +From heav’n; and th’ earth, here prominent before, +Through fear of him did veil her with the sea, +And to our hemisphere retir’d. Perchance +To shun him was the vacant space left here +By what of firm land on this side appears, +That sprang aloof.” There is a place beneath, +From Belzebub as distant, as extends +The vaulted tomb, discover’d not by sight, +But by the sound of brooklet, that descends +This way along the hollow of a rock, +Which, as it winds with no precipitous course, +The wave hath eaten. By that hidden way +My guide and I did enter, to return +To the fair world: and heedless of repose +We climbed, he first, I following his steps, +Till on our view the beautiful lights of heav’n +Dawn’d through a circular opening in the cave: +Thus issuing we again beheld the stars. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1005 *** diff --git a/1005-h/1005-h.htm b/1005-h/1005-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..47f3f07 --- /dev/null +++ b/1005-h/1005-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6377 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Divine Comedy, Hell, by Dante Alighieri</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.footnote {font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1005 ***</div> + +<h1>HELL</h1> + +<h5>OR THE INFERNO FROM THE DIVINE COMEDY</h5> + +<h5>BY</h5> + +<h2 class="no-break">Dante Alighieri</h2> + +<h3>Translated by<br />THE REV. H. F. CARY, M.A.</h3> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.I">CANTO I.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.II">CANTO II.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.III">CANTO III.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.IV">CANTO IV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.V">CANTO V.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.VI">CANTO VI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.VII">CANTO VII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.VIII">CANTO VIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.IX">CANTO IX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.X">CANTO X.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XI">CANTO XI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XII">CANTO XII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XIII">CANTO XIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XIV">CANTO XIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XV">CANTO XV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XVI">CANTO XVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XVII">CANTO XVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XVIII">CANTO XVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XIX">CANTO XIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XX">CANTO XX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXI">CANTO XXI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXII">CANTO XXII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXIII">CANTO XXIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXIV">CANTO XXIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXV">CANTO XXV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXVI">CANTO XXVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXVII">CANTO XXVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXVIII">CANTO XXVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXIX">CANTO XXIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXX">CANTO XXX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXXI">CANTO XXXI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXXII">CANTO XXXII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXXIII">CANTO XXXIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXXIV">CANTO XXXIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>HELL</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.I"></a>CANTO I</h2> + +<p> +In the midway of this our mortal life,<br/> +I found me in a gloomy wood, astray<br/> +Gone from the path direct: and e’en to tell<br/> +It were no easy task, how savage wild<br/> +That forest, how robust and rough its growth,<br/> +Which to remember only, my dismay<br/> +Renews, in bitterness not far from death.<br/> +Yet to discourse of what there good befell,<br/> +All else will I relate discover’d there.<br/> +How first I enter’d it I scarce can say,<br/> +Such sleepy dullness in that instant weigh’d<br/> +My senses down, when the true path I left,<br/> +But when a mountain’s foot I reach’d, where clos’d<br/> +The valley, that had pierc’d my heart with dread,<br/> +I look’d aloft, and saw his shoulders broad<br/> +Already vested with that planet’s beam,<br/> +Who leads all wanderers safe through every way. +</p> + +<p> +Then was a little respite to the fear,<br/> +That in my heart’s recesses deep had lain,<br/> +All of that night, so pitifully pass’d:<br/> +And as a man, with difficult short breath,<br/> +Forespent with toiling, ’scap’d from sea to shore,<br/> +Turns to the perilous wide waste, and stands<br/> +At gaze; e’en so my spirit, that yet fail’d<br/> +Struggling with terror, turn’d to view the straits,<br/> +That none hath pass’d and liv’d. My weary frame<br/> +After short pause recomforted, again<br/> +I journey’d on over that lonely steep, +</p> + +<p> +The hinder foot still firmer. Scarce the ascent<br/> +Began, when, lo! a panther, nimble, light,<br/> +And cover’d with a speckled skin, appear’d,<br/> +Nor, when it saw me, vanish’d, rather strove<br/> +To check my onward going; that ofttimes<br/> +With purpose to retrace my steps I turn’d. +</p> + +<p> +The hour was morning’s prime, and on his way<br/> +Aloft the sun ascended with those stars,<br/> +That with him rose, when Love divine first mov’d<br/> +Those its fair works: so that with joyous hope<br/> +All things conspir’d to fill me, the gay skin<br/> +Of that swift animal, the matin dawn<br/> +And the sweet season. Soon that joy was chas’d,<br/> +And by new dread succeeded, when in view<br/> +A lion came, ’gainst me, as it appear’d, +</p> + +<p> +With his head held aloft and hunger-mad,<br/> +That e’en the air was fear-struck. A she-wolf<br/> +Was at his heels, who in her leanness seem’d<br/> +Full of all wants, and many a land hath made<br/> +Disconsolate ere now. She with such fear<br/> +O’erwhelmed me, at the sight of her appall’d,<br/> +That of the height all hope I lost. As one,<br/> +Who with his gain elated, sees the time<br/> +When all unwares is gone, he inwardly<br/> +Mourns with heart-griping anguish; such was I,<br/> +Haunted by that fell beast, never at peace,<br/> +Who coming o’er against me, by degrees<br/> +Impell’d me where the sun in silence rests. +</p> + +<p> +While to the lower space with backward step<br/> +I fell, my ken discern’d the form one of one,<br/> +Whose voice seem’d faint through long disuse of speech.<br/> +When him in that great desert I espied,<br/> +“Have mercy on me!” cried I out aloud,<br/> +“Spirit! or living man! what e’er thou be!” +</p> + +<p> +He answer’d: “Now not man, man once I was,<br/> +And born of Lombard parents, Mantuana both<br/> +By country, when the power of Julius yet<br/> +Was scarcely firm. At Rome my life was past<br/> +Beneath the mild Augustus, in the time<br/> +Of fabled deities and false. A bard<br/> +Was I, and made Anchises’ upright son<br/> +The subject of my song, who came from Troy,<br/> +When the flames prey’d on Ilium’s haughty towers.<br/> +But thou, say wherefore to such perils past<br/> +Return’st thou? wherefore not this pleasant mount<br/> +Ascendest, cause and source of all delight?”<br/> +“And art thou then that Virgil, that well-spring,<br/> +From which such copious floods of eloquence<br/> +Have issued?” I with front abash’d replied.<br/> +“Glory and light of all the tuneful train!<br/> +May it avail me that I long with zeal<br/> +Have sought thy volume, and with love immense<br/> +Have conn’d it o’er. My master thou and guide!<br/> +Thou he from whom alone I have deriv’d<br/> +That style, which for its beauty into fame<br/> +Exalts me. See the beast, from whom I fled.<br/> +O save me from her, thou illustrious sage!” +</p> + +<p> +“For every vein and pulse throughout my frame<br/> +She hath made tremble.” He, soon as he saw<br/> +That I was weeping, answer’d, “Thou must needs<br/> +Another way pursue, if thou wouldst ’scape<br/> +From out that savage wilderness. This beast,<br/> +At whom thou criest, her way will suffer none<br/> +To pass, and no less hindrance makes than death:<br/> +So bad and so accursed in her kind,<br/> +That never sated is her ravenous will,<br/> +Still after food more craving than before.<br/> +To many an animal in wedlock vile<br/> +She fastens, and shall yet to many more,<br/> +Until that greyhound come, who shall destroy<br/> +Her with sharp pain. He will not life support<br/> +By earth nor its base metals, but by love,<br/> +Wisdom, and virtue, and his land shall be<br/> +The land ’twixt either Feltro. In his might<br/> +Shall safety to Italia’s plains arise,<br/> +For whose fair realm, Camilla, virgin pure,<br/> +Nisus, Euryalus, and Turnus fell.<br/> +He with incessant chase through every town<br/> +Shall worry, until he to hell at length<br/> +Restore her, thence by envy first let loose.<br/> +I for thy profit pond’ring now devise,<br/> +That thou mayst follow me, and I thy guide<br/> +Will lead thee hence through an eternal space,<br/> +Where thou shalt hear despairing shrieks, and see<br/> +Spirits of old tormented, who invoke<br/> +A second death; and those next view, who dwell<br/> +Content in fire, for that they hope to come,<br/> +Whene’er the time may be, among the blest,<br/> +Into whose regions if thou then desire<br/> +T’ ascend, a spirit worthier then I<br/> +Must lead thee, in whose charge, when I depart,<br/> +Thou shalt be left: for that Almighty King,<br/> +Who reigns above, a rebel to his law,<br/> +Adjudges me, and therefore hath decreed,<br/> +That to his city none through me should come.<br/> +He in all parts hath sway; there rules, there holds<br/> +His citadel and throne. O happy those,<br/> +Whom there he chooses!” I to him in few:<br/> +“Bard! by that God, whom thou didst not adore,<br/> +I do beseech thee (that this ill and worse<br/> +I may escape) to lead me, where thou saidst,<br/> +That I Saint Peter’s gate may view, and those<br/> +Who as thou tell’st, are in such dismal plight.” +</p> + +<p> +Onward he mov’d, I close his steps pursu’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.II"></a>CANTO II</h2> + +<p> +Now was the day departing, and the air,<br/> +Imbrown’d with shadows, from their toils releas’d<br/> +All animals on earth; and I alone<br/> +Prepar’d myself the conflict to sustain,<br/> +Both of sad pity, and that perilous road,<br/> +Which my unerring memory shall retrace. +</p> + +<p> +O Muses! O high genius! now vouchsafe<br/> +Your aid! O mind! that all I saw hast kept<br/> +Safe in a written record, here thy worth<br/> +And eminent endowments come to proof. +</p> + +<p> +I thus began: “Bard! thou who art my guide,<br/> +Consider well, if virtue be in me<br/> +Sufficient, ere to this high enterprise<br/> +Thou trust me. Thou hast told that Silvius’ sire,<br/> +Yet cloth’d in corruptible flesh, among<br/> +Th’ immortal tribes had entrance, and was there<br/> +Sensible present. Yet if heaven’s great Lord,<br/> +Almighty foe to ill, such favour shew’d,<br/> +In contemplation of the high effect,<br/> +Both what and who from him should issue forth,<br/> +It seems in reason’s judgment well deserv’d:<br/> +Sith he of Rome, and of Rome’s empire wide,<br/> +In heaven’s empyreal height was chosen sire:<br/> +Both which, if truth be spoken, were ordain’d<br/> +And ’stablish’d for the holy place, where sits<br/> +Who to great Peter’s sacred chair succeeds.<br/> +He from this journey, in thy song renown’d,<br/> +Learn’d things, that to his victory gave rise<br/> +And to the papal robe. In after-times<br/> +The chosen vessel also travel’d there,<br/> +To bring us back assurance in that faith,<br/> +Which is the entrance to salvation’s way.<br/> +But I, why should I there presume? or who<br/> +Permits it? not, Aeneas I nor Paul.<br/> +Myself I deem not worthy, and none else<br/> +Will deem me. I, if on this voyage then<br/> +I venture, fear it will in folly end.<br/> +Thou, who art wise, better my meaning know’st,<br/> +Than I can speak.” As one, who unresolves<br/> +What he hath late resolv’d, and with new thoughts<br/> +Changes his purpose, from his first intent<br/> +Remov’d; e’en such was I on that dun coast,<br/> +Wasting in thought my enterprise, at first<br/> +So eagerly embrac’d. “If right thy words<br/> +I scan,” replied that shade magnanimous,<br/> +“Thy soul is by vile fear assail’d, which oft<br/> +So overcasts a man, that he recoils<br/> +From noblest resolution, like a beast<br/> +At some false semblance in the twilight gloom.<br/> +That from this terror thou mayst free thyself,<br/> +I will instruct thee why I came, and what<br/> +I heard in that same instant, when for thee<br/> +Grief touch’d me first. I was among the tribe,<br/> +Who rest suspended, when a dame, so blest<br/> +And lovely, I besought her to command,<br/> +Call’d me; her eyes were brighter than the star<br/> +Of day; and she with gentle voice and soft<br/> +Angelically tun’d her speech address’d:<br/> +“O courteous shade of Mantua! thou whose fame<br/> +Yet lives, and shall live long as nature lasts!<br/> +A friend, not of my fortune but myself,<br/> +On the wide desert in his road has met<br/> +Hindrance so great, that he through fear has turn’d.<br/> +Now much I dread lest he past help have stray’d,<br/> +And I be ris’n too late for his relief,<br/> +From what in heaven of him I heard. Speed now,<br/> +And by thy eloquent persuasive tongue,<br/> +And by all means for his deliverance meet,<br/> +Assist him. So to me will comfort spring.<br/> +I who now bid thee on this errand forth<br/> +Am Beatrice; from a place I come<br/> +Revisited with joy. Love brought me thence,<br/> +Who prompts my speech. When in my Master’s sight<br/> +I stand, thy praise to him I oft will tell.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +(Note: Beatrice. I use this word, as it is +pronounced in the Italian, as consisting of four +syllables, of which the third is a long one.) +</p> + +<p> +She then was silent, and I thus began:<br/> +“O Lady! by whose influence alone,<br/> +Mankind excels whatever is contain’d<br/> +Within that heaven which hath the smallest orb,<br/> +So thy command delights me, that to obey,<br/> +If it were done already, would seem late.<br/> +No need hast thou farther to speak thy will;<br/> +Yet tell the reason, why thou art not loth<br/> +To leave that ample space, where to return<br/> +Thou burnest, for this centre here beneath.” +</p> + +<p> +She then: “Since thou so deeply wouldst inquire,<br/> +I will instruct thee briefly, why no dread<br/> +Hinders my entrance here. Those things alone<br/> +Are to be fear’d, whence evil may proceed,<br/> +None else, for none are terrible beside.<br/> +I am so fram’d by God, thanks to his grace!<br/> +That any suff’rance of your misery<br/> +Touches me not, nor flame of that fierce fire<br/> +Assails me. In high heaven a blessed dame<br/> +Besides, who mourns with such effectual grief<br/> +That hindrance, which I send thee to remove,<br/> +That God’s stern judgment to her will inclines.”<br/> +To Lucia calling, her she thus bespake:<br/> +“Now doth thy faithful servant need thy aid<br/> +And I commend him to thee.” At her word<br/> +Sped Lucia, of all cruelty the foe,<br/> +And coming to the place, where I abode<br/> +Seated with Rachel, her of ancient days,<br/> +She thus address’d me: “Thou true praise of God!<br/> +Beatrice! why is not thy succour lent<br/> +To him, who so much lov’d thee, as to leave<br/> +For thy sake all the multitude admires?<br/> +Dost thou not hear how pitiful his wail,<br/> +Nor mark the death, which in the torrent flood,<br/> +Swoln mightier than a sea, him struggling holds?”<br/> +“Ne’er among men did any with such speed<br/> +Haste to their profit, flee from their annoy,<br/> +As when these words were spoken, I came here,<br/> +Down from my blessed seat, trusting the force<br/> +Of thy pure eloquence, which thee, and all<br/> +Who well have mark’d it, into honour brings.” +</p> + +<p> +“When she had ended, her bright beaming eyes<br/> +Tearful she turn’d aside; whereat I felt<br/> +Redoubled zeal to serve thee. As she will’d,<br/> +Thus am I come: I sav’d thee from the beast,<br/> +Who thy near way across the goodly mount<br/> +Prevented. What is this comes o’er thee then?<br/> +Why, why dost thou hang back? why in thy breast<br/> +Harbour vile fear? why hast not courage there<br/> +And noble daring? Since three maids so blest<br/> +Thy safety plan, e’en in the court of heaven;<br/> +And so much certain good my words forebode.” +</p> + +<p> +As florets, by the frosty air of night<br/> +Bent down and clos’d, when day has blanch’d their leaves,<br/> +Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems;<br/> +So was my fainting vigour new restor’d,<br/> +And to my heart such kindly courage ran,<br/> +That I as one undaunted soon replied:<br/> +“O full of pity she, who undertook<br/> +My succour! and thou kind who didst perform<br/> +So soon her true behest! With such desire<br/> +Thou hast dispos’d me to renew my voyage,<br/> +That my first purpose fully is resum’d.<br/> +Lead on: one only will is in us both.<br/> +Thou art my guide, my master thou, and lord.” +</p> + +<p> +So spake I; and when he had onward mov’d,<br/> +I enter’d on the deep and woody way. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.III"></a>CANTO III</h2> + +<p> +“Through me you pass into the city of woe:<br/> +Through me you pass into eternal pain:<br/> +Through me among the people lost for aye.<br/> +Justice the founder of my fabric mov’d:<br/> +To rear me was the task of power divine,<br/> +Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.<br/> +Before me things create were none, save things<br/> +Eternal, and eternal I endure. +</p> + +<p> +“All hope abandon ye who enter here.” +</p> + +<p> +Such characters in colour dim I mark’d<br/> +Over a portal’s lofty arch inscrib’d:<br/> +Whereat I thus: “Master, these words import<br/> +Hard meaning.” He as one prepar’d replied:<br/> +“Here thou must all distrust behind thee leave;<br/> +Here be vile fear extinguish’d. We are come<br/> +Where I have told thee we shall see the souls<br/> +To misery doom’d, who intellectual good<br/> +Have lost.” And when his hand he had stretch’d forth<br/> +To mine, with pleasant looks, whence I was cheer’d,<br/> +Into that secret place he led me on. +</p> + +<p> +Here sighs with lamentations and loud moans<br/> +Resounded through the air pierc’d by no star,<br/> +That e’en I wept at entering. Various tongues,<br/> +Horrible languages, outcries of woe,<br/> +Accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse,<br/> +With hands together smote that swell’d the sounds,<br/> +Made up a tumult, that for ever whirls<br/> +Round through that air with solid darkness stain’d,<br/> +Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies. +</p> + +<p> +I then, with error yet encompass’d, cried:<br/> +“O master! What is this I hear? What race<br/> +Are these, who seem so overcome with woe?” +</p> + +<p> +He thus to me: “This miserable fate<br/> +Suffer the wretched souls of those, who liv’d<br/> +Without or praise or blame, with that ill band<br/> +Of angels mix’d, who nor rebellious prov’d<br/> +Nor yet were true to God, but for themselves<br/> +Were only. From his bounds Heaven drove them forth,<br/> +Not to impair his lustre, nor the depth<br/> +Of Hell receives them, lest th’ accursed tribe<br/> +Should glory thence with exultation vain.” +</p> + +<p> +I then: “Master! what doth aggrieve them thus,<br/> +That they lament so loud?” He straight replied:<br/> +“That will I tell thee briefly. These of death<br/> +No hope may entertain: and their blind life<br/> +So meanly passes, that all other lots<br/> +They envy. Fame of them the world hath none,<br/> +Nor suffers; mercy and justice scorn them both.<br/> +Speak not of them, but look, and pass them by.” +</p> + +<p> +And I, who straightway look’d, beheld a flag,<br/> +Which whirling ran around so rapidly,<br/> +That it no pause obtain’d: and following came<br/> +Such a long train of spirits, I should ne’er<br/> +Have thought, that death so many had despoil’d. +</p> + +<p> +When some of these I recogniz’d, I saw<br/> +And knew the shade of him, who to base fear<br/> +Yielding, abjur’d his high estate. Forthwith<br/> +I understood for certain this the tribe<br/> +Of those ill spirits both to God displeasing<br/> +And to his foes. These wretches, who ne’er lived,<br/> +Went on in nakedness, and sorely stung<br/> +By wasps and hornets, which bedew’d their cheeks<br/> +With blood, that mix’d with tears dropp’d to their feet,<br/> +And by disgustful worms was gather’d there. +</p> + +<p> +Then looking farther onwards I beheld<br/> +A throng upon the shore of a great stream:<br/> +Whereat I thus: “Sir! grant me now to know<br/> +Whom here we view, and whence impell’d they seem<br/> +So eager to pass o’er, as I discern<br/> +Through the blear light?” He thus to me in few:<br/> +“This shalt thou know, soon as our steps arrive<br/> +Beside the woeful tide of Acheron.” +</p> + +<p> +Then with eyes downward cast and fill’d with shame,<br/> +Fearing my words offensive to his ear,<br/> +Till we had reach’d the river, I from speech<br/> +Abstain’d. And lo! toward us in a bark<br/> +Comes on an old man hoary white with eld, +</p> + +<p> +Crying, “Woe to you wicked spirits! hope not<br/> +Ever to see the sky again. I come<br/> +To take you to the other shore across,<br/> +Into eternal darkness, there to dwell<br/> +In fierce heat and in ice. And thou, who there<br/> +Standest, live spirit! get thee hence, and leave<br/> +These who are dead.” But soon as he beheld<br/> +I left them not, “By other way,” said he,<br/> +“By other haven shalt thou come to shore,<br/> +Not by this passage; thee a nimbler boat<br/> +Must carry.” Then to him thus spake my guide:<br/> +“Charon! thyself torment not: so ’t is will’d,<br/> +Where will and power are one: ask thou no more.” +</p> + +<p> +Straightway in silence fell the shaggy cheeks<br/> +Of him the boatman o’er the livid lake,<br/> +Around whose eyes glar’d wheeling flames. Meanwhile<br/> +Those spirits, faint and naked, color chang’d,<br/> +And gnash’d their teeth, soon as the cruel words<br/> +They heard. God and their parents they blasphem’d,<br/> +The human kind, the place, the time, and seed<br/> +That did engender them and give them birth. +</p> + +<p> +Then all together sorely wailing drew<br/> +To the curs’d strand, that every man must pass<br/> +Who fears not God. Charon, demoniac form,<br/> +With eyes of burning coal, collects them all,<br/> +Beck’ning, and each, that lingers, with his oar<br/> +Strikes. As fall off the light autumnal leaves,<br/> +One still another following, till the bough<br/> +Strews all its honours on the earth beneath; +</p> + +<p> +E’en in like manner Adam’s evil brood<br/> +Cast themselves one by one down from the shore,<br/> +Each at a beck, as falcon at his call. +</p> + +<p> +Thus go they over through the umber’d wave,<br/> +And ever they on the opposing bank<br/> +Be landed, on this side another throng<br/> +Still gathers. “Son,” thus spake the courteous guide,<br/> +“Those, who die subject to the wrath of God,<br/> +All here together come from every clime,<br/> +And to o’erpass the river are not loth:<br/> +For so heaven’s justice goads them on, that fear<br/> +Is turn’d into desire. Hence ne’er hath past<br/> +Good spirit. If of thee Charon complain,<br/> +Now mayst thou know the import of his words.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, the gloomy region trembling shook<br/> +So terribly, that yet with clammy dews<br/> +Fear chills my brow. The sad earth gave a blast,<br/> +That, lightening, shot forth a vermilion flame,<br/> +Which all my senses conquer’d quite, and I<br/> +Down dropp’d, as one with sudden slumber seiz’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.IV"></a>CANTO IV</h2> + +<p> +Broke the deep slumber in my brain a crash<br/> +Of heavy thunder, that I shook myself,<br/> +As one by main force rous’d. Risen upright,<br/> +My rested eyes I mov’d around, and search’d<br/> +With fixed ken to know what place it was,<br/> +Wherein I stood. For certain on the brink<br/> +I found me of the lamentable vale,<br/> +The dread abyss, that joins a thund’rous sound<br/> +Of plaints innumerable. Dark and deep,<br/> +And thick with clouds o’erspread, mine eye in vain<br/> +Explor’d its bottom, nor could aught discern. +</p> + +<p> +“Now let us to the blind world there beneath<br/> +Descend;” the bard began all pale of look:<br/> +“I go the first, and thou shalt follow next.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I his alter’d hue perceiving, thus:<br/> +“How may I speed, if thou yieldest to dread,<br/> +Who still art wont to comfort me in doubt?” +</p> + +<p> +He then: “The anguish of that race below<br/> +With pity stains my cheek, which thou for fear<br/> +Mistakest. Let us on. Our length of way<br/> +Urges to haste.” Onward, this said, he mov’d;<br/> +And ent’ring led me with him on the bounds<br/> +Of the first circle, that surrounds th’ abyss.<br/> +Here, as mine ear could note, no plaint was heard<br/> +Except of sighs, that made th’ eternal air<br/> +Tremble, not caus’d by tortures, but from grief<br/> +Felt by those multitudes, many and vast,<br/> +Of men, women, and infants. Then to me<br/> +The gentle guide: “Inquir’st thou not what spirits<br/> +Are these, which thou beholdest? Ere thou pass<br/> +Farther, I would thou know, that these of sin<br/> +Were blameless; and if aught they merited,<br/> +It profits not, since baptism was not theirs,<br/> +The portal to thy faith. If they before<br/> +The Gospel liv’d, they serv’d not God aright;<br/> +And among such am I. For these defects,<br/> +And for no other evil, we are lost;” +</p> + +<p> +“Only so far afflicted, that we live<br/> +Desiring without hope.” So grief assail’d<br/> +My heart at hearing this, for well I knew<br/> +Suspended in that Limbo many a soul<br/> +Of mighty worth. “O tell me, sire rever’d!<br/> +Tell me, my master!” I began through wish<br/> +Of full assurance in that holy faith,<br/> +Which vanquishes all error; “say, did e’er<br/> +Any, or through his own or other’s merit,<br/> +Come forth from thence, whom afterward was blest?” +</p> + +<p> +Piercing the secret purport of my speech,<br/> +He answer’d: “I was new to that estate,<br/> +When I beheld a puissant one arrive<br/> +Amongst us, with victorious trophy crown’d.<br/> +He forth the shade of our first parent drew,<br/> +Abel his child, and Noah righteous man,<br/> +Of Moses lawgiver for faith approv’d,<br/> +Of patriarch Abraham, and David king,<br/> +Israel with his sire and with his sons,<br/> +Nor without Rachel whom so hard he won,<br/> +And others many more, whom he to bliss<br/> +Exalted. Before these, be thou assur’d,<br/> +No spirit of human kind was ever sav’d.” +</p> + +<p> +We, while he spake, ceas’d not our onward road,<br/> +Still passing through the wood; for so I name<br/> +Those spirits thick beset. We were not far<br/> +On this side from the summit, when I kenn’d<br/> +A flame, that o’er the darken’d hemisphere<br/> +Prevailing shin’d. Yet we a little space<br/> +Were distant, not so far but I in part<br/> +Discover’d, that a tribe in honour high<br/> +That place possess’d. “O thou, who every art<br/> +And science valu’st! who are these, that boast<br/> +Such honour, separate from all the rest?” +</p> + +<p> +He answer’d: “The renown of their great names<br/> +That echoes through your world above, acquires<br/> +Favour in heaven, which holds them thus advanc’d.”<br/> +Meantime a voice I heard: “Honour the bard<br/> +Sublime! his shade returns that left us late!”<br/> +No sooner ceas’d the sound, than I beheld<br/> +Four mighty spirits toward us bend their steps,<br/> +Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad. +</p> + +<p> +When thus my master kind began: “Mark him,<br/> +Who in his right hand bears that falchion keen,<br/> +The other three preceding, as their lord.<br/> +This is that Homer, of all bards supreme:<br/> +Flaccus the next in satire’s vein excelling;<br/> +The third is Naso; Lucan is the last.<br/> +Because they all that appellation own,<br/> +With which the voice singly accosted me,<br/> +Honouring they greet me thus, and well they judge.” +</p> + +<p> +So I beheld united the bright school<br/> +Of him the monarch of sublimest song,<br/> +That o’er the others like an eagle soars.<br/> +When they together short discourse had held,<br/> +They turn’d to me, with salutation kind<br/> +Beck’ning me; at the which my master smil’d:<br/> +Nor was this all; but greater honour still<br/> +They gave me, for they made me of their tribe;<br/> +And I was sixth amid so learn’d a band. +</p> + +<p> +Far as the luminous beacon on we pass’d<br/> +Speaking of matters, then befitting well<br/> +To speak, now fitter left untold. At foot<br/> +Of a magnificent castle we arriv’d,<br/> +Seven times with lofty walls begirt, and round<br/> +Defended by a pleasant stream. O’er this<br/> +As o’er dry land we pass’d. Next through seven gates<br/> +I with those sages enter’d, and we came<br/> +Into a mead with lively verdure fresh. +</p> + +<p> +There dwelt a race, who slow their eyes around<br/> +Majestically mov’d, and in their port<br/> +Bore eminent authority; they spake<br/> +Seldom, but all their words were tuneful sweet. +</p> + +<p> +We to one side retir’d, into a place<br/> +Open and bright and lofty, whence each one<br/> +Stood manifest to view. Incontinent<br/> +There on the green enamel of the plain<br/> +Were shown me the great spirits, by whose sight<br/> +I am exalted in my own esteem. +</p> + +<p> +Electra there I saw accompanied<br/> +By many, among whom Hector I knew,<br/> +Anchises’ pious son, and with hawk’s eye<br/> +Caesar all arm’d, and by Camilla there<br/> +Penthesilea. On the other side<br/> +Old King Latinus, seated by his child<br/> +Lavinia, and that Brutus I beheld,<br/> +Who Tarquin chas’d, Lucretia, Cato’s wife<br/> +Marcia, with Julia and Cornelia there;<br/> +And sole apart retir’d, the Soldan fierce. +</p> + +<p> +Then when a little more I rais’d my brow,<br/> +I spied the master of the sapient throng,<br/> +Seated amid the philosophic train.<br/> +Him all admire, all pay him rev’rence due.<br/> +There Socrates and Plato both I mark’d,<br/> +Nearest to him in rank; Democritus,<br/> +Who sets the world at chance, Diogenes,<br/> +With Heraclitus, and Empedocles,<br/> +And Anaxagoras, and Thales sage,<br/> +Zeno, and Dioscorides well read<br/> +In nature’s secret lore. Orpheus I mark’d<br/> +And Linus, Tully and moral Seneca,<br/> +Euclid and Ptolemy, Hippocrates,<br/> +Galenus, Avicen, and him who made<br/> +That commentary vast, Averroes. +</p> + +<p> +Of all to speak at full were vain attempt;<br/> +For my wide theme so urges, that ofttimes<br/> +My words fall short of what bechanc’d. In two<br/> +The six associates part. Another way<br/> +My sage guide leads me, from that air serene,<br/> +Into a climate ever vex’d with storms:<br/> +And to a part I come where no light shines. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.V"></a>CANTO V</h2> + +<p> +From the first circle I descended thus<br/> +Down to the second, which, a lesser space<br/> +Embracing, so much more of grief contains<br/> +Provoking bitter moans. There, Minos stands<br/> +Grinning with ghastly feature: he, of all<br/> +Who enter, strict examining the crimes, +</p> + +<p> +Gives sentence, and dismisses them beneath,<br/> +According as he foldeth him around:<br/> +For when before him comes th’ ill fated soul,<br/> +It all confesses; and that judge severe<br/> +Of sins, considering what place in hell<br/> +Suits the transgression, with his tail so oft<br/> +Himself encircles, as degrees beneath<br/> +He dooms it to descend. Before him stand<br/> +Always a num’rous throng; and in his turn<br/> +Each one to judgment passing, speaks, and hears<br/> +His fate, thence downward to his dwelling hurl’d. +</p> + +<p> +“O thou! who to this residence of woe<br/> +Approachest?” when he saw me coming, cried<br/> +Minos, relinquishing his dread employ,<br/> +“Look how thou enter here; beware in whom<br/> +Thou place thy trust; let not the entrance broad<br/> +Deceive thee to thy harm.” To him my guide:<br/> +“Wherefore exclaimest? Hinder not his way<br/> +By destiny appointed; so ’tis will’d<br/> +Where will and power are one. Ask thou no more.” +</p> + +<p> +Now ’gin the rueful wailings to be heard.<br/> +Now am I come where many a plaining voice<br/> +Smites on mine ear. Into a place I came<br/> +Where light was silent all. Bellowing there groan’d<br/> +A noise as of a sea in tempest torn<br/> +By warring winds. The stormy blast of hell<br/> +With restless fury drives the spirits on<br/> +Whirl’d round and dash’d amain with sore annoy. +</p> + +<p> +When they arrive before the ruinous sweep,<br/> +There shrieks are heard, there lamentations, moans,<br/> +And blasphemies ’gainst the good Power in heaven. +</p> + +<p> +I understood that to this torment sad<br/> +The carnal sinners are condemn’d, in whom<br/> +Reason by lust is sway’d. As in large troops<br/> +And multitudinous, when winter reigns,<br/> +The starlings on their wings are borne abroad;<br/> +So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls.<br/> +On this side and on that, above, below,<br/> +It drives them: hope of rest to solace them<br/> +Is none, nor e’en of milder pang. As cranes,<br/> +Chanting their dol’rous notes, traverse the sky,<br/> +Stretch’d out in long array: so I beheld<br/> +Spirits, who came loud wailing, hurried on<br/> +By their dire doom. Then I: “Instructor! who<br/> +Are these, by the black air so scourg’d?”—“The first<br/> +’Mong those, of whom thou question’st,” he replied,<br/> +“O’er many tongues was empress. She in vice<br/> +Of luxury was so shameless, that she made<br/> +Liking be lawful by promulg’d decree,<br/> +To clear the blame she had herself incurr’d.<br/> +This is Semiramis, of whom ’tis writ,<br/> +That she succeeded Ninus her espous’d;<br/> +And held the land, which now the Soldan rules.<br/> +The next in amorous fury slew herself,<br/> +And to Sicheus’ ashes broke her faith:<br/> +Then follows Cleopatra, lustful queen.” +</p> + +<p> +There mark’d I Helen, for whose sake so long<br/> +The time was fraught with evil; there the great<br/> +Achilles, who with love fought to the end.<br/> +Paris I saw, and Tristan; and beside<br/> +A thousand more he show’d me, and by name<br/> +Pointed them out, whom love bereav’d of life. +</p> + +<p> +When I had heard my sage instructor name<br/> +Those dames and knights of antique days, o’erpower’d<br/> +By pity, well-nigh in amaze my mind<br/> +Was lost; and I began: “Bard! willingly<br/> +I would address those two together coming,<br/> +Which seem so light before the wind.” He thus:<br/> +“Note thou, when nearer they to us approach.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then by that love which carries them along,<br/> +Entreat; and they will come.” Soon as the wind<br/> +Sway’d them toward us, I thus fram’d my speech:<br/> +“O wearied spirits! come, and hold discourse<br/> +With us, if by none else restrain’d.” As doves<br/> +By fond desire invited, on wide wings<br/> +And firm, to their sweet nest returning home,<br/> +Cleave the air, wafted by their will along;<br/> +Thus issu’d from that troop, where Dido ranks,<br/> +They through the ill air speeding; with such force<br/> +My cry prevail’d by strong affection urg’d. +</p> + +<p> +“O gracious creature and benign! who go’st<br/> +Visiting, through this element obscure,<br/> +Us, who the world with bloody stain imbru’d;<br/> +If for a friend the King of all we own’d,<br/> +Our pray’r to him should for thy peace arise,<br/> +Since thou hast pity on our evil plight.<br/> +()f whatsoe’er to hear or to discourse<br/> +It pleases thee, that will we hear, of that<br/> +Freely with thee discourse, while e’er the wind,<br/> +As now, is mute. The land, that gave me birth,<br/> +Is situate on the coast, where Po descends<br/> +To rest in ocean with his sequent streams. +</p> + +<p> +“Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt,<br/> +Entangled him by that fair form, from me<br/> +Ta’en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still:<br/> +Love, that denial takes from none belov’d,<br/> +Caught me with pleasing him so passing well,<br/> +That, as thou see’st, he yet deserts me not. +</p> + +<p> +“Love brought us to one death: Caina waits<br/> +The soul, who spilt our life.” Such were their words;<br/> +At hearing which downward I bent my looks,<br/> +And held them there so long, that the bard cried:<br/> +“What art thou pond’ring?” I in answer thus:<br/> +“Alas! by what sweet thoughts, what fond desire<br/> +Must they at length to that ill pass have reach’d!” +</p> + +<p> +Then turning, I to them my speech address’d.<br/> +And thus began: “Francesca! your sad fate<br/> +Even to tears my grief and pity moves.<br/> +But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs,<br/> +By what, and how love granted, that ye knew<br/> +Your yet uncertain wishes?” She replied:<br/> +“No greater grief than to remember days<br/> +Of joy, when mis’ry is at hand! That kens<br/> +Thy learn’d instructor. Yet so eagerly<br/> +If thou art bent to know the primal root,<br/> +From whence our love gat being, I will do,<br/> +As one, who weeps and tells his tale. One day<br/> +For our delight we read of Lancelot,<br/> +How him love thrall’d. Alone we were, and no<br/> +Suspicion near us. Ofttimes by that reading<br/> +Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue<br/> +Fled from our alter’d cheek. But at one point<br/> +Alone we fell. When of that smile we read,<br/> +The wished smile, rapturously kiss’d<br/> +By one so deep in love, then he, who ne’er<br/> +From me shall separate, at once my lips<br/> +All trembling kiss’d. The book and writer both<br/> +Were love’s purveyors. In its leaves that day<br/> +We read no more.” While thus one spirit spake,<br/> +The other wail’d so sorely, that heartstruck<br/> +I through compassion fainting, seem’d not far<br/> +From death, and like a corpse fell to the ground. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.VI"></a>CANTO VI</h2> + +<p> +My sense reviving, that erewhile had droop’d<br/> +With pity for the kindred shades, whence grief<br/> +O’ercame me wholly, straight around I see<br/> +New torments, new tormented souls, which way<br/> +Soe’er I move, or turn, or bend my sight.<br/> +In the third circle I arrive, of show’rs<br/> +Ceaseless, accursed, heavy, and cold, unchang’d<br/> +For ever, both in kind and in degree.<br/> +Large hail, discolour’d water, sleety flaw<br/> +Through the dun midnight air stream’d down amain:<br/> +Stank all the land whereon that tempest fell. +</p> + +<p> +Cerberus, cruel monster, fierce and strange,<br/> +Through his wide threefold throat barks as a dog<br/> +Over the multitude immers’d beneath.<br/> +His eyes glare crimson, black his unctuous beard,<br/> +His belly large, and claw’d the hands, with which<br/> +He tears the spirits, flays them, and their limbs<br/> +Piecemeal disparts. Howling there spread, as curs,<br/> +Under the rainy deluge, with one side<br/> +The other screening, oft they roll them round,<br/> +A wretched, godless crew. When that great worm<br/> +Descried us, savage Cerberus, he op’d<br/> +His jaws, and the fangs show’d us; not a limb<br/> +Of him but trembled. Then my guide, his palms<br/> +Expanding on the ground, thence filled with earth<br/> +Rais’d them, and cast it in his ravenous maw. +</p> + +<p> +E’en as a dog, that yelling bays for food<br/> +His keeper, when the morsel comes, lets fall<br/> +His fury, bent alone with eager haste<br/> +To swallow it; so dropp’d the loathsome cheeks<br/> +Of demon Cerberus, who thund’ring stuns<br/> +The spirits, that they for deafness wish in vain. +</p> + +<p> +We, o’er the shades thrown prostrate by the brunt<br/> +Of the heavy tempest passing, set our feet<br/> +Upon their emptiness, that substance seem’d. +</p> + +<p> +They all along the earth extended lay<br/> +Save one, that sudden rais’d himself to sit,<br/> +Soon as that way he saw us pass. “O thou!”<br/> +He cried, “who through the infernal shades art led,<br/> +Own, if again thou know’st me. Thou wast fram’d<br/> +Or ere my frame was broken.” I replied:<br/> +“The anguish thou endur’st perchance so takes<br/> +Thy form from my remembrance, that it seems<br/> +As if I saw thee never. But inform<br/> +Me who thou art, that in a place so sad<br/> +Art set, and in such torment, that although<br/> +Other be greater, more disgustful none<br/> +Can be imagin’d.” He in answer thus: +</p> + +<p> +“Thy city heap’d with envy to the brim,<br/> +Ay that the measure overflows its bounds,<br/> +Held me in brighter days. Ye citizens<br/> +Were wont to name me Ciacco. For the sin<br/> +Of glutt’ny, damned vice, beneath this rain,<br/> +E’en as thou see’st, I with fatigue am worn;<br/> +Nor I sole spirit in this woe: all these<br/> +Have by like crime incurr’d like punishment.” +</p> + +<p> +No more he said, and I my speech resum’d:<br/> +“Ciacco! thy dire affliction grieves me much,<br/> +Even to tears. But tell me, if thou know’st,<br/> +What shall at length befall the citizens<br/> +Of the divided city; whether any just one<br/> +Inhabit there: and tell me of the cause,<br/> +Whence jarring discord hath assail’d it thus?” +</p> + +<p> +He then: “After long striving they will come<br/> +To blood; and the wild party from the woods<br/> +Will chase the other with much injury forth.<br/> +Then it behoves, that this must fall, within<br/> +Three solar circles; and the other rise<br/> +By borrow’d force of one, who under shore<br/> +Now rests. It shall a long space hold aloof<br/> +Its forehead, keeping under heavy weight<br/> +The other oppress’d, indignant at the load,<br/> +And grieving sore. The just are two in number,<br/> +But they neglected. Av’rice, envy, pride,<br/> +Three fatal sparks, have set the hearts of all<br/> +On fire.” Here ceas’d the lamentable sound;<br/> +And I continu’d thus: “Still would I learn<br/> +More from thee, farther parley still entreat.<br/> +Of Farinata and Tegghiaio say,<br/> +They who so well deserv’d, of Giacopo,<br/> +Arrigo, Mosca, and the rest, who bent<br/> +Their minds on working good. Oh! tell me where<br/> +They bide, and to their knowledge let me come.<br/> +For I am press’d with keen desire to hear,<br/> +If heaven’s sweet cup or poisonous drug of hell<br/> +Be to their lip assign’d.” He answer’d straight:<br/> +“These are yet blacker spirits. Various crimes<br/> +Have sunk them deeper in the dark abyss.<br/> +If thou so far descendest, thou mayst see them.<br/> +But to the pleasant world when thou return’st,<br/> +Of me make mention, I entreat thee, there.<br/> +No more I tell thee, answer thee no more.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, his fixed eyes he turn’d askance,<br/> +A little ey’d me, then bent down his head,<br/> +And ’midst his blind companions with it fell. +</p> + +<p> +When thus my guide: “No more his bed he leaves,<br/> +Ere the last angel-trumpet blow. The Power<br/> +Adverse to these shall then in glory come,<br/> +Each one forthwith to his sad tomb repair,<br/> +Resume his fleshly vesture and his form,<br/> +And hear the eternal doom re-echoing rend<br/> +The vault.” So pass’d we through that mixture foul<br/> +Of spirits and rain, with tardy steps; meanwhile<br/> +Touching, though slightly, on the life to come.<br/> +For thus I question’d: “Shall these tortures, Sir!<br/> +When the great sentence passes, be increas’d,<br/> +Or mitigated, or as now severe?” +</p> + +<p> +He then: “Consult thy knowledge; that decides<br/> +That as each thing to more perfection grows,<br/> +It feels more sensibly both good and pain.<br/> +Though ne’er to true perfection may arrive<br/> +This race accurs’d, yet nearer then than now<br/> +They shall approach it.” Compassing that path<br/> +Circuitous we journeyed, and discourse<br/> +Much more than I relate between us pass’d:<br/> +Till at the point, where the steps led below,<br/> +Arriv’d, there Plutus, the great foe, we found. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.VII"></a>CANTO VII</h2> + +<p> +“Ah me! O Satan! Satan!” loud exclaim’d<br/> +Plutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm:<br/> +And the kind sage, whom no event surpris’d,<br/> +To comfort me thus spake: “Let not thy fear<br/> +Harm thee, for power in him, be sure, is none<br/> +To hinder down this rock thy safe descent.”<br/> +Then to that sworn lip turning, “Peace!” he cried, +</p> + +<p> +“Curs’d wolf! thy fury inward on thyself<br/> +Prey, and consume thee! Through the dark profound<br/> +Not without cause he passes. So ’t is will’d<br/> +On high, there where the great Archangel pour’d<br/> +Heav’n’s vengeance on the first adulterer proud.” +</p> + +<p> +As sails full spread and bellying with the wind<br/> +Drop suddenly collaps’d, if the mast split;<br/> +So to the ground down dropp’d the cruel fiend. +</p> + +<p> +Thus we, descending to the fourth steep ledge,<br/> +Gain’d on the dismal shore, that all the woe<br/> +Hems in of all the universe. Ah me!<br/> +Almighty Justice! in what store thou heap’st<br/> +New pains, new troubles, as I here beheld!<br/> +Wherefore doth fault of ours bring us to this? +</p> + +<p> +E’en as a billow, on Charybdis rising,<br/> +Against encounter’d billow dashing breaks;<br/> +Such is the dance this wretched race must lead,<br/> +Whom more than elsewhere numerous here I found,<br/> +From one side and the other, with loud voice,<br/> +Both roll’d on weights by main forge of their breasts,<br/> +Then smote together, and each one forthwith<br/> +Roll’d them back voluble, turning again,<br/> +Exclaiming these, “Why holdest thou so fast?”<br/> +Those answering, “And why castest thou away?”<br/> +So still repeating their despiteful song,<br/> +They to the opposite point on either hand<br/> +Travers’d the horrid circle: then arriv’d,<br/> +Both turn’d them round, and through the middle space<br/> +Conflicting met again. At sight whereof<br/> +I, stung with grief, thus spake: “O say, my guide!<br/> +What race is this? Were these, whose heads are shorn,<br/> +On our left hand, all sep’rate to the church?” +</p> + +<p> +He straight replied: “In their first life these all<br/> +In mind were so distorted, that they made,<br/> +According to due measure, of their wealth,<br/> +No use. This clearly from their words collect,<br/> +Which they howl forth, at each extremity<br/> +Arriving of the circle, where their crime<br/> +Contrary’ in kind disparts them. To the church<br/> +Were separate those, that with no hairy cowls<br/> +Are crown’d, both Popes and Cardinals, o’er whom<br/> +Av’rice dominion absolute maintains.” +</p> + +<p> +I then: “Mid such as these some needs must be,<br/> +Whom I shall recognize, that with the blot<br/> +Of these foul sins were stain’d.” He answering thus:<br/> +“Vain thought conceiv’st thou. That ignoble life,<br/> +Which made them vile before, now makes them dark,<br/> +And to all knowledge indiscernible.<br/> +Forever they shall meet in this rude shock:<br/> +These from the tomb with clenched grasp shall rise,<br/> +Those with close-shaven locks. That ill they gave,<br/> +And ill they kept, hath of the beauteous world<br/> +Depriv’d, and set them at this strife, which needs<br/> +No labour’d phrase of mine to set if off.<br/> +Now may’st thou see, my son! how brief, how vain,<br/> +The goods committed into fortune’s hands,<br/> +For which the human race keep such a coil!<br/> +Not all the gold, that is beneath the moon,<br/> +Or ever hath been, of these toil-worn souls<br/> +Might purchase rest for one.” I thus rejoin’d: +</p> + +<p> +“My guide! of thee this also would I learn;<br/> +This fortune, that thou speak’st of, what it is,<br/> +Whose talons grasp the blessings of the world?” +</p> + +<p> +He thus: “O beings blind! what ignorance<br/> +Besets you? Now my judgment hear and mark.<br/> +He, whose transcendent wisdom passes all,<br/> +The heavens creating, gave them ruling powers<br/> +To guide them, so that each part shines to each,<br/> +Their light in equal distribution pour’d.<br/> +By similar appointment he ordain’d<br/> +Over the world’s bright images to rule.<br/> +Superintendence of a guiding hand<br/> +And general minister, which at due time<br/> +May change the empty vantages of life<br/> +From race to race, from one to other’s blood,<br/> +Beyond prevention of man’s wisest care:<br/> +Wherefore one nation rises into sway,<br/> +Another languishes, e’en as her will<br/> +Decrees, from us conceal’d, as in the grass<br/> +The serpent train. Against her nought avails<br/> +Your utmost wisdom. She with foresight plans,<br/> +Judges, and carries on her reign, as theirs<br/> +The other powers divine. Her changes know<br/> +Nore intermission: by necessity<br/> +She is made swift, so frequent come who claim<br/> +Succession in her favours. This is she,<br/> +So execrated e’en by those, whose debt<br/> +To her is rather praise; they wrongfully<br/> +With blame requite her, and with evil word;<br/> +But she is blessed, and for that recks not:<br/> +Amidst the other primal beings glad<br/> +Rolls on her sphere, and in her bliss exults.<br/> +Now on our way pass we, to heavier woe<br/> +Descending: for each star is falling now,<br/> +That mounted at our entrance, and forbids<br/> +Too long our tarrying.” We the circle cross’d<br/> +To the next steep, arriving at a well,<br/> +That boiling pours itself down to a foss<br/> +Sluic’d from its source. Far murkier was the wave<br/> +Than sablest grain: and we in company<br/> +Of the’ inky waters, journeying by their side,<br/> +Enter’d, though by a different track, beneath.<br/> +Into a lake, the Stygian nam’d, expands<br/> +The dismal stream, when it hath reach’d the foot<br/> +Of the grey wither’d cliffs. Intent I stood<br/> +To gaze, and in the marish sunk descried<br/> +A miry tribe, all naked, and with looks<br/> +Betok’ning rage. They with their hands alone<br/> +Struck not, but with the head, the breast, the feet,<br/> +Cutting each other piecemeal with their fangs. +</p> + +<p> +The good instructor spake; “Now seest thou, son!<br/> +The souls of those, whom anger overcame.<br/> +This too for certain know, that underneath<br/> +The water dwells a multitude, whose sighs<br/> +Into these bubbles make the surface heave,<br/> +As thine eye tells thee wheresoe’er it turn.”<br/> +Fix’d in the slime they say: “Sad once were we<br/> +In the sweet air made gladsome by the sun,<br/> +Carrying a foul and lazy mist within:<br/> +Now in these murky settlings are we sad.”<br/> +Such dolorous strain they gurgle in their throats.<br/> +But word distinct can utter none.” Our route<br/> +Thus compass’d we, a segment widely stretch’d<br/> +Between the dry embankment, and the core<br/> +Of the loath’d pool, turning meanwhile our eyes<br/> +Downward on those who gulp’d its muddy lees;<br/> +Nor stopp’d, till to a tower’s low base we came. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.VIII"></a>CANTO VIII</h2> + +<p> +My theme pursuing, I relate that ere<br/> +We reach’d the lofty turret’s base, our eyes<br/> +Its height ascended, where two cressets hung<br/> +We mark’d, and from afar another light<br/> +Return the signal, so remote, that scarce<br/> +The eye could catch its beam. I turning round<br/> +To the deep source of knowledge, thus inquir’d:<br/> +“Say what this means? and what that other light<br/> +In answer set? what agency doth this?” +</p> + +<p> +“There on the filthy waters,” he replied,<br/> +“E’en now what next awaits us mayst thou see,<br/> +If the marsh-gender’d fog conceal it not.” +</p> + +<p> +Never was arrow from the cord dismiss’d,<br/> +That ran its way so nimbly through the air,<br/> +As a small bark, that through the waves I spied<br/> +Toward us coming, under the sole sway<br/> +Of one that ferried it, who cried aloud:<br/> +“Art thou arriv’d, fell spirit?”—“Phlegyas, Phlegyas,<br/> +This time thou criest in vain,” my lord replied;<br/> +“No longer shalt thou have us, but while o’er<br/> +The slimy pool we pass.” As one who hears<br/> +Of some great wrong he hath sustain’d, whereat<br/> +Inly he pines; so Phlegyas inly pin’d<br/> +In his fierce ire. My guide descending stepp’d<br/> +Into the skiff, and bade me enter next<br/> +Close at his side; nor till my entrance seem’d<br/> +The vessel freighted. Soon as both embark’d,<br/> +Cutting the waves, goes on the ancient prow,<br/> +More deeply than with others it is wont. +</p> + +<p> +While we our course o’er the dead channel held.<br/> +One drench’d in mire before me came, and said;<br/> +“Who art thou, that thou comest ere thine hour?” +</p> + +<p> +I answer’d: “Though I come, I tarry not;<br/> +But who art thou, that art become so foul?” +</p> + +<p> +“One, as thou seest, who mourn:” he straight replied. +</p> + +<p> +To which I thus: “In mourning and in woe,<br/> +Curs’d spirit! tarry thou.g I know thee well,<br/> +E’en thus in filth disguis’d.” Then stretch’d he forth<br/> +Hands to the bark; whereof my teacher sage<br/> +Aware, thrusting him back: “Away! down there; +</p> + +<p> +“To the’ other dogs!” then, with his arms my neck<br/> +Encircling, kiss’d my cheek, and spake: “O soul<br/> +Justly disdainful! blest was she in whom<br/> +Thou was conceiv’d! He in the world was one<br/> +For arrogance noted; to his memory<br/> +No virtue lends its lustre; even so<br/> +Here is his shadow furious. There above<br/> +How many now hold themselves mighty kings<br/> +Who here like swine shall wallow in the mire,<br/> +Leaving behind them horrible dispraise!” +</p> + +<p> +I then: “Master! him fain would I behold<br/> +Whelm’d in these dregs, before we quit the lake.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus: “Or ever to thy view the shore<br/> +Be offer’d, satisfied shall be that wish,<br/> +Which well deserves completion.” Scarce his words<br/> +Were ended, when I saw the miry tribes<br/> +Set on him with such violence, that yet<br/> +For that render I thanks to God and praise<br/> +“To Filippo Argenti:” cried they all:<br/> +And on himself the moody Florentine<br/> +Turn’d his avenging fangs. Him here we left,<br/> +Nor speak I of him more. But on mine ear<br/> +Sudden a sound of lamentation smote,<br/> +Whereat mine eye unbarr’d I sent abroad. +</p> + +<p> +And thus the good instructor: “Now, my son!<br/> +Draws near the city, that of Dis is nam’d,<br/> +With its grave denizens, a mighty throng.” +</p> + +<p> +I thus: “The minarets already, Sir!<br/> +There certes in the valley I descry,<br/> +Gleaming vermilion, as if they from fire<br/> +Had issu’d.” He replied: “Eternal fire,<br/> +That inward burns, shows them with ruddy flame<br/> +Illum’d; as in this nether hell thou seest.” +</p> + +<p> +We came within the fosses deep, that moat<br/> +This region comfortless. The walls appear’d<br/> +As they were fram’d of iron. We had made<br/> +Wide circuit, ere a place we reach’d, where loud<br/> +The mariner cried vehement: “Go forth!<br/> +The’ entrance is here!” Upon the gates I spied<br/> +More than a thousand, who of old from heaven<br/> +Were hurl’d. With ireful gestures, “Who is this,”<br/> +They cried, “that without death first felt, goes through<br/> +The regions of the dead?” My sapient guide<br/> +Made sign that he for secret parley wish’d;<br/> +Whereat their angry scorn abating, thus<br/> +They spake: “Come thou alone; and let him go<br/> +Who hath so hardily enter’d this realm.<br/> +Alone return he by his witless way;<br/> +If well he know it, let him prove. For thee,<br/> +Here shalt thou tarry, who through clime so dark<br/> +Hast been his escort.” Now bethink thee, reader!<br/> +What cheer was mine at sound of those curs’d words.<br/> +I did believe I never should return. +</p> + +<p> +“O my lov’d guide! who more than seven times<br/> +Security hast render’d me, and drawn<br/> +From peril deep, whereto I stood expos’d,<br/> +Desert me not,” I cried, “in this extreme.<br/> +And if our onward going be denied,<br/> +Together trace we back our steps with speed.” +</p> + +<p> +My liege, who thither had conducted me,<br/> +Replied: “Fear not: for of our passage none<br/> +Hath power to disappoint us, by such high<br/> +Authority permitted. But do thou<br/> +Expect me here; meanwhile thy wearied spirit<br/> +Comfort, and feed with kindly hope, assur’d<br/> +I will not leave thee in this lower world.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, departs the sire benevolent,<br/> +And quits me. Hesitating I remain<br/> +At war ’twixt will and will not in my thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +I could not hear what terms he offer’d them,<br/> +But they conferr’d not long, for all at once<br/> +To trial fled within. Clos’d were the gates<br/> +By those our adversaries on the breast<br/> +Of my liege lord: excluded he return’d<br/> +To me with tardy steps. Upon the ground<br/> +His eyes were bent, and from his brow eras’d<br/> +All confidence, while thus with sighs he spake:<br/> +“Who hath denied me these abodes of woe?”<br/> +Then thus to me: “That I am anger’d, think<br/> +No ground of terror: in this trial I<br/> +Shall vanquish, use what arts they may within<br/> +For hindrance. This their insolence, not new,<br/> +Erewhile at gate less secret they display’d,<br/> +Which still is without bolt; upon its arch<br/> +Thou saw’st the deadly scroll: and even now<br/> +On this side of its entrance, down the steep,<br/> +Passing the circles, unescorted, comes<br/> +One whose strong might can open us this land.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.IX"></a>CANTO IX</h2> + +<p> +The hue, which coward dread on my pale cheeks<br/> +Imprinted, when I saw my guide turn back,<br/> +Chas’d that from his which newly they had worn,<br/> +And inwardly restrain’d it. He, as one<br/> +Who listens, stood attentive: for his eye<br/> +Not far could lead him through the sable air,<br/> +And the thick-gath’ring cloud. “It yet behooves<br/> +We win this fight”—thus he began—“if not—<br/> +Such aid to us is offer’d.—Oh, how long<br/> +Me seems it, ere the promis’d help arrive!” +</p> + +<p> +I noted, how the sequel of his words<br/> +Clok’d their beginning; for the last he spake<br/> +Agreed not with the first. But not the less<br/> +My fear was at his saying; sith I drew<br/> +To import worse perchance, than that he held,<br/> +His mutilated speech. “Doth ever any<br/> +Into this rueful concave’s extreme depth<br/> +Descend, out of the first degree, whose pain<br/> +Is deprivation merely of sweet hope?” +</p> + +<p> +Thus I inquiring. “Rarely,” he replied,<br/> +“It chances, that among us any makes<br/> +This journey, which I wend. Erewhile ’tis true<br/> +Once came I here beneath, conjur’d by fell<br/> +Erictho, sorceress, who compell’d the shades<br/> +Back to their bodies. No long space my flesh<br/> +Was naked of me, when within these walls<br/> +She made me enter, to draw forth a spirit<br/> +From out of Judas’ circle. Lowest place<br/> +Is that of all, obscurest, and remov’d<br/> +Farthest from heav’n’s all-circling orb. The road<br/> +Full well I know: thou therefore rest secure.<br/> +That lake, the noisome stench exhaling, round<br/> +The city’ of grief encompasses, which now<br/> +We may not enter without rage.” Yet more<br/> +He added: but I hold it not in mind,<br/> +For that mine eye toward the lofty tower<br/> +Had drawn me wholly, to its burning top.<br/> +Where in an instant I beheld uprisen<br/> +At once three hellish furies stain’d with blood:<br/> +In limb and motion feminine they seem’d;<br/> +Around them greenest hydras twisting roll’d<br/> +Their volumes; adders and cerastes crept<br/> +Instead of hair, and their fierce temples bound. +</p> + +<p> +He knowing well the miserable hags<br/> +Who tend the queen of endless woe, thus spake: +</p> + +<p> +“Mark thou each dire Erinnys. To the left<br/> +This is Megaera; on the right hand she,<br/> +Who wails, Alecto; and Tisiphone<br/> +I’ th’ midst.” This said, in silence he remain’d<br/> +Their breast they each one clawing tore; themselves<br/> +Smote with their palms, and such shrill clamour rais’d,<br/> +That to the bard I clung, suspicion-bound.<br/> +“Hasten Medusa: so to adamant<br/> +Him shall we change;” all looking down exclaim’d.<br/> +“E’en when by Theseus’ might assail’d, we took<br/> +No ill revenge.” “Turn thyself round, and keep<br/> +Thy count’nance hid; for if the Gorgon dire<br/> +Be shown, and thou shouldst view it, thy return<br/> +Upwards would be for ever lost.” This said,<br/> +Himself my gentle master turn’d me round,<br/> +Nor trusted he my hands, but with his own<br/> +He also hid me. Ye of intellect<br/> +Sound and entire, mark well the lore conceal’d<br/> +Under close texture of the mystic strain! +</p> + +<p> +And now there came o’er the perturbed waves<br/> +Loud-crashing, terrible, a sound that made<br/> +Either shore tremble, as if of a wind<br/> +Impetuous, from conflicting vapours sprung,<br/> +That ’gainst some forest driving all its might,<br/> +Plucks off the branches, beats them down and hurls<br/> +Afar; then onward passing proudly sweeps<br/> +Its whirlwind rage, while beasts and shepherds fly. +</p> + +<p> +Mine eyes he loos’d, and spake: “And now direct<br/> +Thy visual nerve along that ancient foam,<br/> +There, thickest where the smoke ascends.” As frogs<br/> +Before their foe the serpent, through the wave<br/> +Ply swiftly all, till at the ground each one<br/> +Lies on a heap; more than a thousand spirits<br/> +Destroy’d, so saw I fleeing before one<br/> +Who pass’d with unwet feet the Stygian sound.<br/> +He, from his face removing the gross air,<br/> +Oft his left hand forth stretch’d, and seem’d alone<br/> +By that annoyance wearied. I perceiv’d<br/> +That he was sent from heav’n, and to my guide<br/> +Turn’d me, who signal made that I should stand<br/> +Quiet, and bend to him. Ah me! how full<br/> +Of noble anger seem’d he! To the gate<br/> +He came, and with his wand touch’d it, whereat<br/> +Open without impediment it flew. +</p> + +<p> +“Outcasts of heav’n! O abject race and scorn’d!”<br/> +Began he on the horrid grunsel standing,<br/> +“Whence doth this wild excess of insolence<br/> +Lodge in you? wherefore kick you ’gainst that will<br/> +Ne’er frustrate of its end, and which so oft<br/> +Hath laid on you enforcement of your pangs?<br/> +What profits at the fays to but the horn?<br/> +Your Cerberus, if ye remember, hence<br/> +Bears still, peel’d of their hair, his throat and maw.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, he turn’d back o’er the filthy way,<br/> +And syllable to us spake none, but wore<br/> +The semblance of a man by other care<br/> +Beset, and keenly press’d, than thought of him<br/> +Who in his presence stands. Then we our steps<br/> +Toward that territory mov’d, secure<br/> +After the hallow’d words. We unoppos’d<br/> +There enter’d; and my mind eager to learn<br/> +What state a fortress like to that might hold,<br/> +I soon as enter’d throw mine eye around,<br/> +And see on every part wide-stretching space<br/> +Replete with bitter pain and torment ill. +</p> + +<p> +As where Rhone stagnates on the plains of Arles,<br/> +Or as at Pola, near Quarnaro’s gulf,<br/> +That closes Italy and laves her bounds,<br/> +The place is all thick spread with sepulchres;<br/> +So was it here, save what in horror here<br/> +Excell’d: for ’midst the graves were scattered flames,<br/> +Wherewith intensely all throughout they burn’d,<br/> +That iron for no craft there hotter needs. +</p> + +<p> +Their lids all hung suspended, and beneath<br/> +From them forth issu’d lamentable moans,<br/> +Such as the sad and tortur’d well might raise. +</p> + +<p> +I thus: “Master! say who are these, interr’d<br/> +Within these vaults, of whom distinct we hear<br/> +The dolorous sighs?” He answer thus return’d: +</p> + +<p> +“The arch-heretics are here, accompanied<br/> +By every sect their followers; and much more,<br/> +Than thou believest, tombs are freighted: like<br/> +With like is buried; and the monuments<br/> +Are different in degrees of heat.” This said,<br/> +He to the right hand turning, on we pass’d<br/> +Betwixt the afflicted and the ramparts high. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.X"></a>CANTO X</h2> + +<p> +Now by a secret pathway we proceed,<br/> +Between the walls, that hem the region round,<br/> +And the tormented souls: my master first,<br/> +I close behind his steps. “Virtue supreme!”<br/> +I thus began; “who through these ample orbs<br/> +In circuit lead’st me, even as thou will’st,<br/> +Speak thou, and satisfy my wish. May those,<br/> +Who lie within these sepulchres, be seen?<br/> +Already all the lids are rais’d, and none<br/> +O’er them keeps watch.” He thus in answer spake<br/> +“They shall be closed all, what-time they here<br/> +From Josaphat return’d shall come, and bring<br/> +Their bodies, which above they now have left.<br/> +The cemetery on this part obtain<br/> +With Epicurus all his followers,<br/> +Who with the body make the spirit die.<br/> +Here therefore satisfaction shall be soon<br/> +Both to the question ask’d, and to the wish,<br/> +Which thou conceal’st in silence.” I replied:<br/> +“I keep not, guide belov’d! from thee my heart<br/> +Secreted, but to shun vain length of words,<br/> +A lesson erewhile taught me by thyself.” +</p> + +<p> +“O Tuscan! thou who through the city of fire<br/> +Alive art passing, so discreet of speech!<br/> +Here please thee stay awhile. Thy utterance<br/> +Declares the place of thy nativity<br/> +To be that noble land, with which perchance<br/> +I too severely dealt.” Sudden that sound<br/> +Forth issu’d from a vault, whereat in fear<br/> +I somewhat closer to my leader’s side<br/> +Approaching, he thus spake: “What dost thou? Turn.<br/> +Lo, Farinata, there! who hath himself<br/> +Uplifted: from his girdle upwards all<br/> +Expos’d behold him.” On his face was mine<br/> +Already fix’d; his breast and forehead there<br/> +Erecting, seem’d as in high scorn he held<br/> +E’en hell. Between the sepulchres to him<br/> +My guide thrust me with fearless hands and prompt,<br/> +This warning added: “See thy words be clear!” +</p> + +<p> +He, soon as there I stood at the tomb’s foot,<br/> +Ey’d me a space, then in disdainful mood<br/> +Address’d me: “Say, what ancestors were thine?” +</p> + +<p> +I, willing to obey him, straight reveal’d<br/> +The whole, nor kept back aught: whence he, his brow<br/> +Somewhat uplifting, cried: “Fiercely were they<br/> +Adverse to me, my party, and the blood<br/> +From whence I sprang: twice therefore I abroad<br/> +Scatter’d them.” “Though driv’n out, yet they each time<br/> +From all parts,” answer’d I, “return’d; an art<br/> +Which yours have shown, they are not skill’d to learn.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, peering forth from the unclosed jaw,<br/> +Rose from his side a shade, high as the chin,<br/> +Leaning, methought, upon its knees uprais’d.<br/> +It look’d around, as eager to explore<br/> +If there were other with me; but perceiving<br/> +That fond imagination quench’d, with tears<br/> +Thus spake: “If thou through this blind prison go’st.<br/> +Led by thy lofty genius and profound,<br/> +Where is my son? and wherefore not with thee?” +</p> + +<p> +I straight replied: “Not of myself I come,<br/> +By him, who there expects me, through this clime<br/> +Conducted, whom perchance Guido thy son<br/> +Had in contempt.” Already had his words<br/> +And mode of punishment read me his name,<br/> +Whence I so fully answer’d. He at once<br/> +Exclaim’d, up starting, “How! said’st thou he HAD?<br/> +No longer lives he? Strikes not on his eye<br/> +The blessed daylight?” Then of some delay<br/> +I made ere my reply aware, down fell<br/> +Supine, not after forth appear’d he more. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the other, great of soul, near whom<br/> +I yet was station’d, chang’d not count’nance stern,<br/> +Nor mov’d the neck, nor bent his ribbed side.<br/> +“And if,” continuing the first discourse,<br/> +“They in this art,” he cried, “small skill have shown,<br/> +That doth torment me more e’en than this bed.<br/> +But not yet fifty times shall be relum’d<br/> +Her aspect, who reigns here Queen of this realm,<br/> +Ere thou shalt know the full weight of that art.<br/> +So to the pleasant world mayst thou return,<br/> +As thou shalt tell me, why in all their laws,<br/> +Against my kin this people is so fell?” +</p> + +<p> +“The slaughter and great havoc,” I replied,<br/> +“That colour’d Arbia’s flood with crimson stain—<br/> +To these impute, that in our hallow’d dome<br/> +Such orisons ascend.” Sighing he shook<br/> +The head, then thus resum’d: “In that affray<br/> +I stood not singly, nor without just cause<br/> +Assuredly should with the rest have stirr’d;<br/> +But singly there I stood, when by consent<br/> +Of all, Florence had to the ground been raz’d,<br/> +The one who openly forbad the deed.” +</p> + +<p> +“So may thy lineage find at last repose,”<br/> +I thus adjur’d him, “as thou solve this knot,<br/> +Which now involves my mind. If right I hear,<br/> +Ye seem to view beforehand, that which time<br/> +Leads with him, of the present uninform’d.” +</p> + +<p> +“We view, as one who hath an evil sight,”<br/> +He answer’d, “plainly, objects far remote:<br/> +So much of his large spendour yet imparts<br/> +The’ Almighty Ruler; but when they approach<br/> +Or actually exist, our intellect<br/> +Then wholly fails, nor of your human state<br/> +Except what others bring us know we aught.<br/> +Hence therefore mayst thou understand, that all<br/> +Our knowledge in that instant shall expire,<br/> +When on futurity the portals close.” +</p> + +<p> +Then conscious of my fault, and by remorse<br/> +Smitten, I added thus: “Now shalt thou say<br/> +To him there fallen, that his offspring still<br/> +Is to the living join’d; and bid him know,<br/> +That if from answer silent I abstain’d,<br/> +’Twas that my thought was occupied intent<br/> +Upon that error, which thy help hath solv’d.” +</p> + +<p> +But now my master summoning me back<br/> +I heard, and with more eager haste besought<br/> +The spirit to inform me, who with him<br/> +Partook his lot. He answer thus return’d: +</p> + +<p> +“More than a thousand with me here are laid<br/> +Within is Frederick, second of that name,<br/> +And the Lord Cardinal, and of the rest<br/> +I speak not.” He, this said, from sight withdrew.<br/> +But I my steps towards the ancient bard<br/> +Reverting, ruminated on the words<br/> +Betokening me such ill. Onward he mov’d,<br/> +And thus in going question’d: “Whence the’ amaze<br/> +That holds thy senses wrapt?” I satisfied<br/> +The’ inquiry, and the sage enjoin’d me straight:<br/> +“Let thy safe memory store what thou hast heard<br/> +To thee importing harm; and note thou this,”<br/> +With his rais’d finger bidding me take heed, +</p> + +<p> +“When thou shalt stand before her gracious beam,<br/> +Whose bright eye all surveys, she of thy life<br/> +The future tenour will to thee unfold.” +</p> + +<p> +Forthwith he to the left hand turn’d his feet:<br/> +We left the wall, and tow’rds the middle space<br/> +Went by a path, that to a valley strikes;<br/> +Which e’en thus high exhal’d its noisome steam. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XI"></a>CANTO XI</h2> + +<p> +Upon the utmost verge of a high bank,<br/> +By craggy rocks environ’d round, we came,<br/> +Where woes beneath more cruel yet were stow’d:<br/> +And here to shun the horrible excess<br/> +Of fetid exhalation, upward cast<br/> +From the profound abyss, behind the lid<br/> +Of a great monument we stood retir’d, +</p> + +<p> +Whereon this scroll I mark’d: “I have in charge<br/> +Pope Anastasius, whom Photinus drew<br/> +From the right path.—Ere our descent behooves<br/> +We make delay, that somewhat first the sense,<br/> +To the dire breath accustom’d, afterward<br/> +Regard it not.” My master thus; to whom<br/> +Answering I spake: “Some compensation find<br/> +That the time past not wholly lost.” He then:<br/> +“Lo! how my thoughts e’en to thy wishes tend!<br/> +My son! within these rocks,” he thus began,<br/> +“Are three close circles in gradation plac’d,<br/> +As these which now thou leav’st. Each one is full<br/> +Of spirits accurs’d; but that the sight alone<br/> +Hereafter may suffice thee, listen how<br/> +And for what cause in durance they abide. +</p> + +<p> +“Of all malicious act abhorr’d in heaven,<br/> +The end is injury; and all such end<br/> +Either by force or fraud works other’s woe<br/> +But fraud, because of man peculiar evil,<br/> +To God is more displeasing; and beneath<br/> +The fraudulent are therefore doom’d to’ endure<br/> +Severer pang. The violent occupy<br/> +All the first circle; and because to force<br/> +Three persons are obnoxious, in three rounds<br/> +Hach within other sep’rate is it fram’d.<br/> +To God, his neighbour, and himself, by man<br/> +Force may be offer’d; to himself I say<br/> +And his possessions, as thou soon shalt hear<br/> +At full. Death, violent death, and painful wounds<br/> +Upon his neighbour he inflicts; and wastes<br/> +By devastation, pillage, and the flames,<br/> +His substance. Slayers, and each one that smites<br/> +In malice, plund’rers, and all robbers, hence<br/> +The torment undergo of the first round<br/> +In different herds. Man can do violence<br/> +To himself and his own blessings: and for this<br/> +He in the second round must aye deplore<br/> +With unavailing penitence his crime,<br/> +Whoe’er deprives himself of life and light,<br/> +In reckless lavishment his talent wastes,<br/> +And sorrows there where he should dwell in joy.<br/> +To God may force be offer’d, in the heart<br/> +Denying and blaspheming his high power,<br/> +And nature with her kindly law contemning.<br/> +And thence the inmost round marks with its seal<br/> +Sodom and Cahors, and all such as speak<br/> +Contemptuously’ of the Godhead in their hearts. +</p> + +<p> +“Fraud, that in every conscience leaves a sting,<br/> +May be by man employ’d on one, whose trust<br/> +He wins, or on another who withholds<br/> +Strict confidence. Seems as the latter way<br/> +Broke but the bond of love which Nature makes.<br/> +Whence in the second circle have their nest<br/> +Dissimulation, witchcraft, flatteries,<br/> +Theft, falsehood, simony, all who seduce<br/> +To lust, or set their honesty at pawn,<br/> +With such vile scum as these. The other way<br/> +Forgets both Nature’s general love, and that<br/> +Which thereto added afterwards gives birth<br/> +To special faith. Whence in the lesser circle,<br/> +Point of the universe, dread seat of Dis,<br/> +The traitor is eternally consum’d.” +</p> + +<p> +I thus: “Instructor, clearly thy discourse<br/> +Proceeds, distinguishing the hideous chasm<br/> +And its inhabitants with skill exact.<br/> +But tell me this: they of the dull, fat pool,<br/> +Whom the rain beats, or whom the tempest drives,<br/> +Or who with tongues so fierce conflicting meet,<br/> +Wherefore within the city fire-illum’d<br/> +Are not these punish’d, if God’s wrath be on them?<br/> +And if it be not, wherefore in such guise<br/> +Are they condemned?” He answer thus return’d:<br/> +“Wherefore in dotage wanders thus thy mind,<br/> +Not so accustom’d? or what other thoughts<br/> +Possess it? Dwell not in thy memory<br/> +The words, wherein thy ethic page describes<br/> +Three dispositions adverse to Heav’n’s will,<br/> +Incont’nence, malice, and mad brutishness,<br/> +And how incontinence the least offends<br/> +God, and least guilt incurs? If well thou note<br/> +This judgment, and remember who they are,<br/> +Without these walls to vain repentance doom’d,<br/> +Thou shalt discern why they apart are plac’d<br/> +From these fell spirits, and less wreakful pours<br/> +Justice divine on them its vengeance down.” +</p> + +<p> +“O Sun! who healest all imperfect sight,<br/> +Thou so content’st me, when thou solv’st my doubt,<br/> +That ignorance not less than knowledge charms.<br/> +Yet somewhat turn thee back,” I in these words<br/> +Continu’d, “where thou saidst, that usury<br/> +Offends celestial Goodness; and this knot<br/> +Perplex’d unravel.” He thus made reply:<br/> +“Philosophy, to an attentive ear,<br/> +Clearly points out, not in one part alone,<br/> +How imitative nature takes her course<br/> +From the celestial mind and from its art:<br/> +And where her laws the Stagyrite unfolds,<br/> +Not many leaves scann’d o’er, observing well<br/> +Thou shalt discover, that your art on her<br/> +Obsequious follows, as the learner treads<br/> +In his instructor’s step, so that your art<br/> +Deserves the name of second in descent<br/> +From God. These two, if thou recall to mind<br/> +Creation’s holy book, from the beginning<br/> +Were the right source of life and excellence<br/> +To human kind. But in another path<br/> +The usurer walks; and Nature in herself<br/> +And in her follower thus he sets at nought,<br/> +Placing elsewhere his hope. But follow now<br/> +My steps on forward journey bent; for now<br/> +The Pisces play with undulating glance<br/> +Along the’ horizon, and the Wain lies all<br/> +O’er the north-west; and onward there a space<br/> +Is our steep passage down the rocky height.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XII"></a>CANTO XII</h2> + +<p> +The place where to descend the precipice<br/> +We came, was rough as Alp, and on its verge<br/> +Such object lay, as every eye would shun. +</p> + +<p> +As is that ruin, which Adice’s stream<br/> +On this side Trento struck, should’ring the wave,<br/> +Or loos’d by earthquake or for lack of prop;<br/> +For from the mountain’s summit, whence it mov’d<br/> +To the low level, so the headlong rock<br/> +Is shiver’d, that some passage it might give<br/> +To him who from above would pass; e’en such<br/> +Into the chasm was that descent: and there<br/> +At point of the disparted ridge lay stretch’d<br/> +The infamy of Crete, detested brood<br/> +Of the feign’d heifer: and at sight of us<br/> +It gnaw’d itself, as one with rage distract. +</p> + +<p> +To him my guide exclaim’d: “Perchance thou deem’st<br/> +The King of Athens here, who, in the world<br/> +Above, thy death contriv’d. Monster! avaunt!<br/> +He comes not tutor’d by thy sister’s art,<br/> +But to behold your torments is he come.” +</p> + +<p> +Like to a bull, that with impetuous spring<br/> +Darts, at the moment when the fatal blow<br/> +Hath struck him, but unable to proceed<br/> +Plunges on either side; so saw I plunge<br/> +The Minotaur; whereat the sage exclaim’d:<br/> +“Run to the passage! while he storms, ’t is well<br/> +That thou descend.” Thus down our road we took<br/> +Through those dilapidated crags, that oft<br/> +Mov’d underneath my feet, to weight like theirs<br/> +Unus’d. I pond’ring went, and thus he spake: +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps thy thoughts are of this ruin’d steep,<br/> +Guarded by the brute violence, which I<br/> +Have vanquish’d now. Know then, that when I erst<br/> +Hither descended to the nether hell,<br/> +This rock was not yet fallen. But past doubt<br/> +(If well I mark) not long ere He arrived,<br/> +Who carried off from Dis the mighty spoil<br/> +Of the highest circle, then through all its bounds<br/> +Such trembling seiz’d the deep concave and foul,<br/> +I thought the universe was thrill’d with love,<br/> +Whereby, there are who deem, the world hath oft<br/> +Been into chaos turn’d: and in that point,<br/> +Here, and elsewhere, that old rock toppled down.<br/> +But fix thine eyes beneath: the river of blood<br/> +Approaches, in the which all those are steep’d,<br/> +Who have by violence injur’d.” O blind lust!<br/> +O foolish wrath! who so dost goad us on<br/> +In the brief life, and in the eternal then<br/> +Thus miserably o’erwhelm us. I beheld<br/> +An ample foss, that in a bow was bent,<br/> +As circling all the plain; for so my guide<br/> +Had told. Between it and the rampart’s base<br/> +On trail ran Centaurs, with keen arrows arm’d,<br/> +As to the chase they on the earth were wont. +</p> + +<p> +At seeing us descend they each one stood;<br/> +And issuing from the troop, three sped with bows<br/> +And missile weapons chosen first; of whom<br/> +One cried from far: “Say to what pain ye come<br/> +Condemn’d, who down this steep have journied? Speak<br/> +From whence ye stand, or else the bow I draw.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom my guide: “Our answer shall be made<br/> +To Chiron, there, when nearer him we come.<br/> +Ill was thy mind, thus ever quick and rash.” +</p> + +<p> +Then me he touch’d, and spake: “Nessus is this,<br/> +Who for the fair Deianira died,<br/> +And wrought himself revenge for his own fate.<br/> +He in the midst, that on his breast looks down,<br/> +Is the great Chiron who Achilles nurs’d;<br/> +That other Pholus, prone to wrath.” Around<br/> +The foss these go by thousands, aiming shafts<br/> +At whatsoever spirit dares emerge<br/> +From out the blood, more than his guilt allows. +</p> + +<p> +We to those beasts, that rapid strode along,<br/> +Drew near, when Chiron took an arrow forth,<br/> +And with the notch push’d back his shaggy beard<br/> +To the cheek-bone, then his great mouth to view<br/> +Exposing, to his fellows thus exclaim’d:<br/> +“Are ye aware, that he who comes behind<br/> +Moves what he touches? The feet of the dead<br/> +Are not so wont.” My trusty guide, who now<br/> +Stood near his breast, where the two natures join,<br/> +Thus made reply: “He is indeed alive,<br/> +And solitary so must needs by me<br/> +Be shown the gloomy vale, thereto induc’d<br/> +By strict necessity, not by delight.<br/> +She left her joyful harpings in the sky,<br/> +Who this new office to my care consign’d.<br/> +He is no robber, no dark spirit I.<br/> +But by that virtue, which empowers my step<br/> +To treat so wild a path, grant us, I pray,<br/> +One of thy band, whom we may trust secure,<br/> +Who to the ford may lead us, and convey<br/> +Across, him mounted on his back; for he<br/> +Is not a spirit that may walk the air.” +</p> + +<p> +Then on his right breast turning, Chiron thus<br/> +To Nessus spake: “Return, and be their guide.<br/> +And if ye chance to cross another troop,<br/> +Command them keep aloof.” Onward we mov’d,<br/> +The faithful escort by our side, along<br/> +The border of the crimson-seething flood,<br/> +Whence from those steep’d within loud shrieks arose. +</p> + +<p> +Some there I mark’d, as high as to their brow<br/> +Immers’d, of whom the mighty Centaur thus:<br/> +“These are the souls of tyrants, who were given<br/> +To blood and rapine. Here they wail aloud<br/> +Their merciless wrongs. Here Alexander dwells,<br/> +And Dionysius fell, who many a year<br/> +Of woe wrought for fair Sicily. That brow<br/> +Whereon the hair so jetty clust’ring hangs,<br/> +Is Azzolino; that with flaxen locks<br/> +Obizzo’ of Este, in the world destroy’d<br/> +By his foul step-son.” To the bard rever’d<br/> +I turned me round, and thus he spake; “Let him<br/> +Be to thee now first leader, me but next<br/> +To him in rank.” Then farther on a space<br/> +The Centaur paus’d, near some, who at the throat<br/> +Were extant from the wave; and showing us<br/> +A spirit by itself apart retir’d,<br/> +Exclaim’d: “He in God’s bosom smote the heart,<br/> +Which yet is honour’d on the bank of Thames.” +</p> + +<p> +A race I next espied, who held the head,<br/> +And even all the bust above the stream.<br/> +’Midst these I many a face remember’d well.<br/> +Thus shallow more and more the blood became,<br/> +So that at last it but imbru’d the feet;<br/> +And there our passage lay athwart the foss. +</p> + +<p> +“As ever on this side the boiling wave<br/> +Thou seest diminishing,” the Centaur said,<br/> +“So on the other, be thou well assur’d,<br/> +It lower still and lower sinks its bed,<br/> +Till in that part it reuniting join,<br/> +Where ’t is the lot of tyranny to mourn.<br/> +There Heav’n’s stern justice lays chastising hand<br/> +On Attila, who was the scourge of earth,<br/> +On Sextus, and on Pyrrhus, and extracts<br/> +Tears ever by the seething flood unlock’d<br/> +From the Rinieri, of Corneto this,<br/> +Pazzo the other nam’d, who fill’d the ways<br/> +With violence and war.” This said, he turn’d,<br/> +And quitting us, alone repass’d the ford. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XIII"></a>CANTO XIII</h2> + +<p> +Ere Nessus yet had reach’d the other bank,<br/> +We enter’d on a forest, where no track<br/> +Of steps had worn a way. Not verdant there<br/> +The foliage, but of dusky hue; not light<br/> +The boughs and tapering, but with knares deform’d<br/> +And matted thick: fruits there were none, but thorns<br/> +Instead, with venom fill’d. Less sharp than these,<br/> +Less intricate the brakes, wherein abide<br/> +Those animals, that hate the cultur’d fields,<br/> +Betwixt Corneto and Cecina’s stream. +</p> + +<p> +Here the brute Harpies make their nest, the same<br/> +Who from the Strophades the Trojan band<br/> +Drove with dire boding of their future woe.<br/> +Broad are their pennons, of the human form<br/> +Their neck and count’nance, arm’d with talons keen<br/> +The feet, and the huge belly fledge with wings<br/> +These sit and wail on the drear mystic wood. +</p> + +<p> +The kind instructor in these words began:<br/> +“Ere farther thou proceed, know thou art now<br/> +I’ th’ second round, and shalt be, till thou come<br/> +Upon the horrid sand: look therefore well<br/> +Around thee, and such things thou shalt behold,<br/> +As would my speech discredit.” On all sides<br/> +I heard sad plainings breathe, and none could see<br/> +From whom they might have issu’d. In amaze<br/> +Fast bound I stood. He, as it seem’d, believ’d,<br/> +That I had thought so many voices came<br/> +From some amid those thickets close conceal’d,<br/> +And thus his speech resum’d: “If thou lop off<br/> +A single twig from one of those ill plants,<br/> +The thought thou hast conceiv’d shall vanish quite.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereat a little stretching forth my hand,<br/> +From a great wilding gather’d I a branch,<br/> +And straight the trunk exclaim’d: “Why pluck’st thou me?” +</p> + +<p> +Then as the dark blood trickled down its side,<br/> +These words it added: “Wherefore tear’st me thus?<br/> +Is there no touch of mercy in thy breast?<br/> +Men once were we, that now are rooted here.<br/> +Thy hand might well have spar’d us, had we been<br/> +The souls of serpents.” As a brand yet green,<br/> +That burning at one end from the’ other sends<br/> +A groaning sound, and hisses with the wind<br/> +That forces out its way, so burst at once,<br/> +Forth from the broken splinter words and blood. +</p> + +<p> +I, letting fall the bough, remain’d as one<br/> +Assail’d by terror, and the sage replied:<br/> +“If he, O injur’d spirit! could have believ’d<br/> +What he hath seen but in my verse describ’d,<br/> +He never against thee had stretch’d his hand.<br/> +But I, because the thing surpass’d belief,<br/> +Prompted him to this deed, which even now<br/> +Myself I rue. But tell me, who thou wast;<br/> +That, for this wrong to do thee some amends,<br/> +In the upper world (for thither to return<br/> +Is granted him) thy fame he may revive.” +</p> + +<p> +“That pleasant word of thine,” the trunk replied<br/> +“Hath so inveigled me, that I from speech<br/> +Cannot refrain, wherein if I indulge<br/> +A little longer, in the snare detain’d,<br/> +Count it not grievous. I it was, who held<br/> +Both keys to Frederick’s heart, and turn’d the wards,<br/> +Opening and shutting, with a skill so sweet,<br/> +That besides me, into his inmost breast<br/> +Scarce any other could admittance find.<br/> +The faith I bore to my high charge was such,<br/> +It cost me the life-blood that warm’d my veins.<br/> +The harlot, who ne’er turn’d her gloating eyes<br/> +From Caesar’s household, common vice and pest<br/> +Of courts, ’gainst me inflam’d the minds of all;<br/> +And to Augustus they so spread the flame,<br/> +That my glad honours chang’d to bitter woes.<br/> +My soul, disdainful and disgusted, sought<br/> +Refuge in death from scorn, and I became,<br/> +Just as I was, unjust toward myself.<br/> +By the new roots, which fix this stem, I swear,<br/> +That never faith I broke to my liege lord,<br/> +Who merited such honour; and of you,<br/> +If any to the world indeed return,<br/> +Clear he from wrong my memory, that lies<br/> +Yet prostrate under envy’s cruel blow.” +</p> + +<p> +First somewhat pausing, till the mournful words<br/> +Were ended, then to me the bard began:<br/> +“Lose not the time; but speak and of him ask,<br/> +If more thou wish to learn.” Whence I replied:<br/> +“Question thou him again of whatsoe’er<br/> +Will, as thou think’st, content me; for no power<br/> +Have I to ask, such pity’ is at my heart.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus resum’d; “So may he do for thee<br/> +Freely what thou entreatest, as thou yet<br/> +Be pleas’d, imprison’d Spirit! to declare,<br/> +How in these gnarled joints the soul is tied;<br/> +And whether any ever from such frame<br/> +Be loosen’d, if thou canst, that also tell.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereat the trunk breath’d hard, and the wind soon<br/> +Chang’d into sounds articulate like these; +</p> + +<p> +“Briefly ye shall be answer’d. When departs<br/> +The fierce soul from the body, by itself<br/> +Thence torn asunder, to the seventh gulf<br/> +By Minos doom’d, into the wood it falls,<br/> +No place assign’d, but wheresoever chance<br/> +Hurls it, there sprouting, as a grain of spelt,<br/> +It rises to a sapling, growing thence<br/> +A savage plant. The Harpies, on its leaves<br/> +Then feeding, cause both pain and for the pain<br/> +A vent to grief. We, as the rest, shall come<br/> +For our own spoils, yet not so that with them<br/> +We may again be clad; for what a man<br/> +Takes from himself it is not just he have.<br/> +Here we perforce shall drag them; and throughout<br/> +The dismal glade our bodies shall be hung,<br/> +Each on the wild thorn of his wretched shade.” +</p> + +<p> +Attentive yet to listen to the trunk<br/> +We stood, expecting farther speech, when us<br/> +A noise surpris’d, as when a man perceives<br/> +The wild boar and the hunt approach his place<br/> +Of station’d watch, who of the beasts and boughs<br/> +Loud rustling round him hears. And lo! there came<br/> +Two naked, torn with briers, in headlong flight,<br/> +That they before them broke each fan o’ th’ wood.<br/> +“Haste now,” the foremost cried, “now haste thee death!” +</p> + +<p> +The’ other, as seem’d, impatient of delay<br/> +Exclaiming, “Lano! not so bent for speed<br/> +Thy sinews, in the lists of Toppo’s field.”<br/> +And then, for that perchance no longer breath<br/> +Suffic’d him, of himself and of a bush<br/> +One group he made. Behind them was the wood<br/> +Full of black female mastiffs, gaunt and fleet,<br/> +As greyhounds that have newly slipp’d the leash.<br/> +On him, who squatted down, they stuck their fangs,<br/> +And having rent him piecemeal bore away<br/> +The tortur’d limbs. My guide then seiz’d my hand,<br/> +And led me to the thicket, which in vain<br/> +Mourn’d through its bleeding wounds: “O Giacomo<br/> +Of Sant’ Andrea! what avails it thee,”<br/> +It cried, “that of me thou hast made thy screen?<br/> +For thy ill life what blame on me recoils?” +</p> + +<p> +When o’er it he had paus’d, my master spake:<br/> +“Say who wast thou, that at so many points<br/> +Breath’st out with blood thy lamentable speech?” +</p> + +<p> +He answer’d: “Oh, ye spirits: arriv’d in time<br/> +To spy the shameful havoc, that from me<br/> +My leaves hath sever’d thus, gather them up,<br/> +And at the foot of their sad parent-tree<br/> +Carefully lay them. In that city’ I dwelt,<br/> +Who for the Baptist her first patron chang’d,<br/> +Whence he for this shall cease not with his art<br/> +To work her woe: and if there still remain’d not<br/> +On Arno’s passage some faint glimpse of him,<br/> +Those citizens, who rear’d once more her walls<br/> +Upon the ashes left by Attila,<br/> +Had labour’d without profit of their toil.<br/> +I slung the fatal noose from my own roof.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XIV"></a>CANTO XIV</h2> + +<p> +Soon as the charity of native land<br/> +Wrought in my bosom, I the scatter’d leaves<br/> +Collected, and to him restor’d, who now<br/> +Was hoarse with utt’rance. To the limit thence<br/> +We came, which from the third the second round<br/> +Divides, and where of justice is display’d<br/> +Contrivance horrible. Things then first seen<br/> +Clearlier to manifest, I tell how next<br/> +A plain we reach’d, that from its sterile bed<br/> +Each plant repell’d. The mournful wood waves round<br/> +Its garland on all sides, as round the wood<br/> +Spreads the sad foss. There, on the very edge,<br/> +Our steps we stay’d. It was an area wide<br/> +Of arid sand and thick, resembling most<br/> +The soil that erst by Cato’s foot was trod. +</p> + +<p> +Vengeance of Heav’n! Oh! how shouldst thou be fear’d<br/> +By all, who read what here my eyes beheld! +</p> + +<p> +Of naked spirits many a flock I saw,<br/> +All weeping piteously, to different laws<br/> +Subjected: for on the’ earth some lay supine,<br/> +Some crouching close were seated, others pac’d<br/> +Incessantly around; the latter tribe,<br/> +More numerous, those fewer who beneath<br/> +The torment lay, but louder in their grief. +</p> + +<p> +O’er all the sand fell slowly wafting down<br/> +Dilated flakes of fire, as flakes of snow<br/> +On Alpine summit, when the wind is hush’d.<br/> +As in the torrid Indian clime, the son<br/> +Of Ammon saw upon his warrior band<br/> +Descending, solid flames, that to the ground<br/> +Came down: whence he bethought him with his troop<br/> +To trample on the soil; for easier thus<br/> +The vapour was extinguish’d, while alone;<br/> +So fell the eternal fiery flood, wherewith<br/> +The marble glow’d underneath, as under stove<br/> +The viands, doubly to augment the pain. +</p> + +<p> +Unceasing was the play of wretched hands,<br/> +Now this, now that way glancing, to shake off<br/> +The heat, still falling fresh. I thus began:<br/> +“Instructor! thou who all things overcom’st,<br/> +Except the hardy demons, that rush’d forth<br/> +To stop our entrance at the gate, say who<br/> +Is yon huge spirit, that, as seems, heeds not<br/> +The burning, but lies writhen in proud scorn,<br/> +As by the sultry tempest immatur’d?” +</p> + +<p> +Straight he himself, who was aware I ask’d<br/> +My guide of him, exclaim’d: “Such as I was<br/> +When living, dead such now I am. If Jove<br/> +Weary his workman out, from whom in ire<br/> +He snatch’d the lightnings, that at my last day<br/> +Transfix’d me, if the rest be weary out<br/> +At their black smithy labouring by turns<br/> +In Mongibello, while he cries aloud;<br/> +“Help, help, good Mulciber!” as erst he cried<br/> +In the Phlegraean warfare, and the bolts<br/> +Launch he full aim’d at me with all his might,<br/> +He never should enjoy a sweet revenge.” +</p> + +<p> +Then thus my guide, in accent higher rais’d<br/> +Than I before had heard him: “Capaneus!<br/> +Thou art more punish’d, in that this thy pride<br/> +Lives yet unquench’d: no torrent, save thy rage,<br/> +Were to thy fury pain proportion’d full.” +</p> + +<p> +Next turning round to me with milder lip<br/> +He spake: “This of the seven kings was one,<br/> +Who girt the Theban walls with siege, and held,<br/> +As still he seems to hold, God in disdain,<br/> +And sets his high omnipotence at nought.<br/> +But, as I told him, his despiteful mood<br/> +Is ornament well suits the breast that wears it.<br/> +Follow me now; and look thou set not yet<br/> +Thy foot in the hot sand, but to the wood<br/> +Keep ever close.” Silently on we pass’d<br/> +To where there gushes from the forest’s bound<br/> +A little brook, whose crimson’d wave yet lifts<br/> +My hair with horror. As the rill, that runs<br/> +From Bulicame, to be portion’d out<br/> +Among the sinful women; so ran this<br/> +Down through the sand, its bottom and each bank<br/> +Stone-built, and either margin at its side,<br/> +Whereon I straight perceiv’d our passage lay. +</p> + +<p> +“Of all that I have shown thee, since that gate<br/> +We enter’d first, whose threshold is to none<br/> +Denied, nought else so worthy of regard,<br/> +As is this river, has thine eye discern’d,<br/> +O’er which the flaming volley all is quench’d.” +</p> + +<p> +So spake my guide; and I him thence besought,<br/> +That having giv’n me appetite to know,<br/> +The food he too would give, that hunger crav’d. +</p> + +<p> +“In midst of ocean,” forthwith he began,<br/> +“A desolate country lies, which Crete is nam’d,<br/> +Under whose monarch in old times the world<br/> +Liv’d pure and chaste. A mountain rises there,<br/> +Call’d Ida, joyous once with leaves and streams,<br/> +Deserted now like a forbidden thing.<br/> +It was the spot which Rhea, Saturn’s spouse,<br/> +Chose for the secret cradle of her son;<br/> +And better to conceal him, drown’d in shouts<br/> +His infant cries. Within the mount, upright<br/> +An ancient form there stands and huge, that turns<br/> +His shoulders towards Damiata, and at Rome<br/> +As in his mirror looks. Of finest gold<br/> +His head is shap’d, pure silver are the breast<br/> +And arms; thence to the middle is of brass.<br/> +And downward all beneath well-temper’d steel,<br/> +Save the right foot of potter’s clay, on which<br/> +Than on the other more erect he stands,<br/> +Each part except the gold, is rent throughout;<br/> +And from the fissure tears distil, which join’d<br/> +Penetrate to that cave. They in their course<br/> +Thus far precipitated down the rock<br/> +Form Acheron, and Styx, and Phlegethon;<br/> +Then by this straiten’d channel passing hence<br/> +Beneath, e’en to the lowest depth of all,<br/> +Form there Cocytus, of whose lake (thyself<br/> +Shall see it) I here give thee no account.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I to him: “If from our world this sluice<br/> +Be thus deriv’d; wherefore to us but now<br/> +Appears it at this edge?” He straight replied:<br/> +“The place, thou know’st, is round; and though great part<br/> +Thou have already pass’d, still to the left<br/> +Descending to the nethermost, not yet<br/> +Hast thou the circuit made of the whole orb.<br/> +Wherefore if aught of new to us appear,<br/> +It needs not bring up wonder in thy looks.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I again inquir’d: “Where flow the streams<br/> +Of Phlegethon and Lethe? for of one<br/> +Thou tell’st not, and the other of that shower,<br/> +Thou say’st, is form’d.” He answer thus return’d:<br/> +“Doubtless thy questions all well pleas’d I hear.<br/> +Yet the red seething wave might have resolv’d<br/> +One thou proposest. Lethe thou shalt see,<br/> +But not within this hollow, in the place,<br/> +Whither to lave themselves the spirits go,<br/> +Whose blame hath been by penitence remov’d.”<br/> +He added: “Time is now we quit the wood.<br/> +Look thou my steps pursue: the margins give<br/> +Safe passage, unimpeded by the flames;<br/> +For over them all vapour is extinct.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XV"></a>CANTO XV</h2> + +<p> +One of the solid margins bears us now<br/> +Envelop’d in the mist, that from the stream<br/> +Arising, hovers o’er, and saves from fire<br/> +Both piers and water. As the Flemings rear<br/> +Their mound, ’twixt Ghent and Bruges, to chase back<br/> +The ocean, fearing his tumultuous tide<br/> +That drives toward them, or the Paduans theirs<br/> +Along the Brenta, to defend their towns<br/> +And castles, ere the genial warmth be felt<br/> +On Chiarentana’s top; such were the mounds,<br/> +So fram’d, though not in height or bulk to these<br/> +Made equal, by the master, whosoe’er<br/> +He was, that rais’d them here. We from the wood<br/> +Were not so far remov’d, that turning round<br/> +I might not have discern’d it, when we met<br/> +A troop of spirits, who came beside the pier. +</p> + +<p> +They each one ey’d us, as at eventide<br/> +One eyes another under a new moon,<br/> +And toward us sharpen’d their sight as keen,<br/> +As an old tailor at his needle’s eye. +</p> + +<p> +Thus narrowly explor’d by all the tribe,<br/> +I was agniz’d of one, who by the skirt<br/> +Caught me, and cried, “What wonder have we here!” +</p> + +<p> +And I, when he to me outstretch’d his arm,<br/> +Intently fix’d my ken on his parch’d looks,<br/> +That although smirch’d with fire, they hinder’d not<br/> +But I remember’d him; and towards his face<br/> +My hand inclining, answer’d: “Sir! Brunetto! +</p> + +<p> +“And art thou here?” He thus to me: “My son!<br/> +Oh let it not displease thee, if Brunetto<br/> +Latini but a little space with thee<br/> +Turn back, and leave his fellows to proceed.” +</p> + +<p> +I thus to him replied: “Much as I can,<br/> +I thereto pray thee; and if thou be willing,<br/> +That I here seat me with thee, I consent;<br/> +His leave, with whom I journey, first obtain’d.” +</p> + +<p> +“O son!” said he, “whoever of this throng<br/> +One instant stops, lies then a hundred years,<br/> +No fan to ventilate him, when the fire<br/> +Smites sorest. Pass thou therefore on. I close<br/> +Will at thy garments walk, and then rejoin<br/> +My troop, who go mourning their endless doom.” +</p> + +<p> +I dar’d not from the path descend to tread<br/> +On equal ground with him, but held my head<br/> +Bent down, as one who walks in reverent guise. +</p> + +<p> +“What chance or destiny,” thus he began,<br/> +“Ere the last day conducts thee here below?<br/> +And who is this, that shows to thee the way?” +</p> + +<p> +“There up aloft,” I answer’d, “in the life<br/> +Serene, I wander’d in a valley lost,<br/> +Before mine age had to its fullness reach’d.<br/> +But yester-morn I left it: then once more<br/> +Into that vale returning, him I met;<br/> +And by this path homeward he leads me back.” +</p> + +<p> +“If thou,” he answer’d, “follow but thy star,<br/> +Thou canst not miss at last a glorious haven:<br/> +Unless in fairer days my judgment err’d.<br/> +And if my fate so early had not chanc’d,<br/> +Seeing the heav’ns thus bounteous to thee, I<br/> +Had gladly giv’n thee comfort in thy work.<br/> +But that ungrateful and malignant race,<br/> +Who in old times came down from Fesole,<br/> +Ay and still smack of their rough mountain-flint,<br/> +Will for thy good deeds shew thee enmity.<br/> +Nor wonder; for amongst ill-savour’d crabs<br/> +It suits not the sweet fig-tree lay her fruit.<br/> +Old fame reports them in the world for blind,<br/> +Covetous, envious, proud. Look to it well:<br/> +Take heed thou cleanse thee of their ways. For thee<br/> +Thy fortune hath such honour in reserve,<br/> +That thou by either party shalt be crav’d<br/> +With hunger keen: but be the fresh herb far<br/> +From the goat’s tooth. The herd of Fesole<br/> +May of themselves make litter, not touch the plant,<br/> +If any such yet spring on their rank bed,<br/> +In which the holy seed revives, transmitted<br/> +From those true Romans, who still there remain’d,<br/> +When it was made the nest of so much ill.” +</p> + +<p> +“Were all my wish fulfill’d,” I straight replied,<br/> +“Thou from the confines of man’s nature yet<br/> +Hadst not been driven forth; for in my mind<br/> +Is fix’d, and now strikes full upon my heart<br/> +The dear, benign, paternal image, such<br/> +As thine was, when so lately thou didst teach me<br/> +The way for man to win eternity;<br/> +And how I priz’d the lesson, it behooves,<br/> +That, long as life endures, my tongue should speak,<br/> +What of my fate thou tell’st, that write I down:<br/> +And with another text to comment on<br/> +For her I keep it, the celestial dame,<br/> +Who will know all, if I to her arrive.<br/> +This only would I have thee clearly note:<br/> +That so my conscience have no plea against me;<br/> +Do fortune as she list, I stand prepar’d.<br/> +Not new or strange such earnest to mine ear.<br/> +Speed fortune then her wheel, as likes her best,<br/> +The clown his mattock; all things have their course.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereat my sapient guide upon his right<br/> +Turn’d himself back, then look’d at me and spake:<br/> +“He listens to good purpose who takes note.” +</p> + +<p> +I not the less still on my way proceed,<br/> +Discoursing with Brunetto, and inquire<br/> +Who are most known and chief among his tribe. +</p> + +<p> +“To know of some is well;” thus he replied,<br/> +“But of the rest silence may best beseem.<br/> +Time would not serve us for report so long.<br/> +In brief I tell thee, that all these were clerks,<br/> +Men of great learning and no less renown,<br/> +By one same sin polluted in the world.<br/> +With them is Priscian, and Accorso’s son<br/> +Francesco herds among that wretched throng:<br/> +And, if the wish of so impure a blotch<br/> +Possess’d thee, him thou also might’st have seen,<br/> +Who by the servants’ servant was transferr’d<br/> +From Arno’s seat to Bacchiglione, where<br/> +His ill-strain’d nerves he left. I more would add,<br/> +But must from farther speech and onward way<br/> +Alike desist, for yonder I behold<br/> +A mist new-risen on the sandy plain.<br/> +A company, with whom I may not sort,<br/> +Approaches. I commend my TREASURE to thee,<br/> +Wherein I yet survive; my sole request.” +</p> + +<p> +This said he turn’d, and seem’d as one of those,<br/> +Who o’er Verona’s champain try their speed<br/> +For the green mantle, and of them he seem’d,<br/> +Not he who loses but who gains the prize. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XVI"></a>CANTO XVI</h2> + +<p> +Now came I where the water’s din was heard,<br/> +As down it fell into the other round,<br/> +Resounding like the hum of swarming bees:<br/> +When forth together issu’d from a troop,<br/> +That pass’d beneath the fierce tormenting storm,<br/> +Three spirits, running swift. They towards us came,<br/> +And each one cried aloud, “Oh do thou stay!<br/> +Whom by the fashion of thy garb we deem<br/> +To be some inmate of our evil land.” +</p> + +<p> +Ah me! what wounds I mark’d upon their limbs,<br/> +Recent and old, inflicted by the flames!<br/> +E’en the remembrance of them grieves me yet. +</p> + +<p> +Attentive to their cry my teacher paus’d,<br/> +And turn’d to me his visage, and then spake;<br/> +“Wait now! our courtesy these merit well:<br/> +And were ’t not for the nature of the place,<br/> +Whence glide the fiery darts, I should have said,<br/> +That haste had better suited thee than them.” +</p> + +<p> +They, when we stopp’d, resum’d their ancient wail,<br/> +And soon as they had reach’d us, all the three<br/> +Whirl’d round together in one restless wheel.<br/> +As naked champions, smear’d with slippery oil,<br/> +Are wont intent to watch their place of hold<br/> +And vantage, ere in closer strife they meet;<br/> +Thus each one, as he wheel’d, his countenance<br/> +At me directed, so that opposite<br/> +The neck mov’d ever to the twinkling feet. +</p> + +<p> +“If misery of this drear wilderness,”<br/> +Thus one began, “added to our sad cheer<br/> +And destitute, do call forth scorn on us<br/> +And our entreaties, let our great renown<br/> +Incline thee to inform us who thou art,<br/> +That dost imprint with living feet unharm’d<br/> +The soil of Hell. He, in whose track thou see’st<br/> +My steps pursuing, naked though he be<br/> +And reft of all, was of more high estate<br/> +Than thou believest; grandchild of the chaste<br/> +Gualdrada, him they Guidoguerra call’d,<br/> +Who in his lifetime many a noble act<br/> +Achiev’d, both by his wisdom and his sword.<br/> +The other, next to me that beats the sand,<br/> +Is Aldobrandi, name deserving well,<br/> +In the’ upper world, of honour; and myself<br/> +Who in this torment do partake with them,<br/> +Am Rusticucci, whom, past doubt, my wife<br/> +Of savage temper, more than aught beside<br/> +Hath to this evil brought.” If from the fire<br/> +I had been shelter’d, down amidst them straight<br/> +I then had cast me, nor my guide, I deem,<br/> +Would have restrain’d my going; but that fear<br/> +Of the dire burning vanquish’d the desire,<br/> +Which made me eager of their wish’d embrace. +</p> + +<p> +I then began: “Not scorn, but grief much more,<br/> +Such as long time alone can cure, your doom<br/> +Fix’d deep within me, soon as this my lord<br/> +Spake words, whose tenour taught me to expect<br/> +That such a race, as ye are, was at hand.<br/> +I am a countryman of yours, who still<br/> +Affectionate have utter’d, and have heard<br/> +Your deeds and names renown’d. Leaving the gall<br/> +For the sweet fruit I go, that a sure guide<br/> +Hath promis’d to me. But behooves, that far<br/> +As to the centre first I downward tend.” +</p> + +<p> +“So may long space thy spirit guide thy limbs,”<br/> +He answer straight return’d; “and so thy fame<br/> +Shine bright, when thou art gone; as thou shalt tell,<br/> +If courtesy and valour, as they wont,<br/> +Dwell in our city, or have vanish’d clean?<br/> +For one amidst us late condemn’d to wail,<br/> +Borsiere, yonder walking with his peers,<br/> +Grieves us no little by the news he brings.” +</p> + +<p> +“An upstart multitude and sudden gains,<br/> +Pride and excess, O Florence! have in thee<br/> +Engender’d, so that now in tears thou mourn’st!”<br/> +Thus cried I with my face uprais’d, and they<br/> +All three, who for an answer took my words,<br/> +Look’d at each other, as men look when truth<br/> +Comes to their ear. “If thou at other times,”<br/> +They all at once rejoin’d, “so easily<br/> +Satisfy those, who question, happy thou,<br/> +Gifted with words, so apt to speak thy thought!<br/> +Wherefore if thou escape this darksome clime,<br/> +Returning to behold the radiant stars,<br/> +When thou with pleasure shalt retrace the past,<br/> +See that of us thou speak among mankind.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, they broke the circle, and so swift<br/> +Fled, that as pinions seem’d their nimble feet. +</p> + +<p> +Not in so short a time might one have said<br/> +“Amen,” as they had vanish’d. Straight my guide<br/> +Pursu’d his track. I follow’d; and small space<br/> +Had we pass’d onward, when the water’s sound<br/> +Was now so near at hand, that we had scarce<br/> +Heard one another’s speech for the loud din. +</p> + +<p> +E’en as the river, that holds on its course<br/> +Unmingled, from the mount of Vesulo,<br/> +On the left side of Apennine, toward<br/> +The east, which Acquacheta higher up<br/> +They call, ere it descend into the vale,<br/> +At Forli by that name no longer known,<br/> +Rebellows o’er Saint Benedict, roll’d on<br/> +From the’ Alpine summit down a precipice,<br/> +Where space enough to lodge a thousand spreads;<br/> +Thus downward from a craggy steep we found,<br/> +That this dark wave resounded, roaring loud,<br/> +So that the ear its clamour soon had stunn’d. +</p> + +<p> +I had a cord that brac’d my girdle round,<br/> +Wherewith I erst had thought fast bound to take<br/> +The painted leopard. This when I had all<br/> +Unloosen’d from me (so my master bade)<br/> +I gather’d up, and stretch’d it forth to him.<br/> +Then to the right he turn’d, and from the brink<br/> +Standing few paces distant, cast it down<br/> +Into the deep abyss. “And somewhat strange,”<br/> +Thus to myself I spake, “signal so strange<br/> +Betokens, which my guide with earnest eye<br/> +Thus follows.” Ah! what caution must men use<br/> +With those who look not at the deed alone,<br/> +But spy into the thoughts with subtle skill! +</p> + +<p> +“Quickly shall come,” he said, “what I expect,<br/> +Thine eye discover quickly, that whereof<br/> +Thy thought is dreaming.” Ever to that truth,<br/> +Which but the semblance of a falsehood wears,<br/> +A man, if possible, should bar his lip;<br/> +Since, although blameless, he incurs reproach.<br/> +But silence here were vain; and by these notes<br/> +Which now I sing, reader! I swear to thee,<br/> +So may they favour find to latest times!<br/> +That through the gross and murky air I spied<br/> +A shape come swimming up, that might have quell’d<br/> +The stoutest heart with wonder, in such guise<br/> +As one returns, who hath been down to loose<br/> +An anchor grappled fast against some rock,<br/> +Or to aught else that in the salt wave lies,<br/> +Who upward springing close draws in his feet. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XVII"></a>CANTO XVII</h2> + +<p> +“Lo! the fell monster with the deadly sting!<br/> +Who passes mountains, breaks through fenced walls<br/> +And firm embattled spears, and with his filth<br/> +Taints all the world!” Thus me my guide address’d,<br/> +And beckon’d him, that he should come to shore,<br/> +Near to the stony causeway’s utmost edge. +</p> + +<p> +Forthwith that image vile of fraud appear’d,<br/> +His head and upper part expos’d on land,<br/> +But laid not on the shore his bestial train.<br/> +His face the semblance of a just man’s wore,<br/> +So kind and gracious was its outward cheer;<br/> +The rest was serpent all: two shaggy claws<br/> +Reach’d to the armpits, and the back and breast,<br/> +And either side, were painted o’er with nodes<br/> +And orbits. Colours variegated more<br/> +Nor Turks nor Tartars e’er on cloth of state<br/> +With interchangeable embroidery wove,<br/> +Nor spread Arachne o’er her curious loom.<br/> +As ofttimes a light skiff, moor’d to the shore,<br/> +Stands part in water, part upon the land;<br/> +Or, as where dwells the greedy German boor,<br/> +The beaver settles watching for his prey;<br/> +So on the rim, that fenc’d the sand with rock,<br/> +Sat perch’d the fiend of evil. In the void<br/> +Glancing, his tail upturn’d its venomous fork,<br/> +With sting like scorpion’s arm’d. Then thus my guide:<br/> +“Now need our way must turn few steps apart,<br/> +Far as to that ill beast, who couches there.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereat toward the right our downward course<br/> +We shap’d, and, better to escape the flame<br/> +And burning marle, ten paces on the verge<br/> +Proceeded. Soon as we to him arrive,<br/> +A little further on mine eye beholds<br/> +A tribe of spirits, seated on the sand<br/> +Near the wide chasm. Forthwith my master spake:<br/> +“That to the full thy knowledge may extend<br/> +Of all this round contains, go now, and mark<br/> +The mien these wear: but hold not long discourse.<br/> +Till thou returnest, I with him meantime<br/> +Will parley, that to us he may vouchsafe<br/> +The aid of his strong shoulders.” Thus alone<br/> +Yet forward on the’ extremity I pac’d<br/> +Of that seventh circle, where the mournful tribe<br/> +Were seated. At the eyes forth gush’d their pangs.<br/> +Against the vapours and the torrid soil<br/> +Alternately their shifting hands they plied.<br/> +Thus use the dogs in summer still to ply<br/> +Their jaws and feet by turns, when bitten sore<br/> +By gnats, or flies, or gadflies swarming round. +</p> + +<p> +Noting the visages of some, who lay<br/> +Beneath the pelting of that dolorous fire,<br/> +One of them all I knew not; but perceiv’d,<br/> +That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch<br/> +With colours and with emblems various mark’d,<br/> +On which it seem’d as if their eye did feed. +</p> + +<p> +And when amongst them looking round I came,<br/> +A yellow purse I saw with azure wrought,<br/> +That wore a lion’s countenance and port.<br/> +Then still my sight pursuing its career,<br/> +Another I beheld, than blood more red.<br/> +A goose display of whiter wing than curd.<br/> +And one, who bore a fat and azure swine<br/> +Pictur’d on his white scrip, addressed me thus:<br/> +“What dost thou in this deep? Go now and know,<br/> +Since yet thou livest, that my neighbour here<br/> +Vitaliano on my left shall sit.<br/> +A Paduan with these Florentines am I.<br/> +Ofttimes they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming<br/> +‘O haste that noble knight! he who the pouch<br/> +With the three beaks will bring!’” This said, he writh’d<br/> +The mouth, and loll’d the tongue out, like an ox<br/> +That licks his nostrils. I, lest longer stay<br/> +He ill might brook, who bade me stay not long,<br/> +Backward my steps from those sad spirits turn’d. +</p> + +<p> +My guide already seated on the haunch<br/> +Of the fierce animal I found; and thus<br/> +He me encourag’d. “Be thou stout; be bold.<br/> +Down such a steep flight must we now descend!<br/> +Mount thou before: for that no power the tail<br/> +May have to harm thee, I will be i’ th’ midst.” +</p> + +<p> +As one, who hath an ague fit so near,<br/> +His nails already are turn’d blue, and he<br/> +Quivers all o’er, if he but eye the shade;<br/> +Such was my cheer at hearing of his words.<br/> +But shame soon interpos’d her threat, who makes<br/> +The servant bold in presence of his lord. +</p> + +<p> +I settled me upon those shoulders huge,<br/> +And would have said, but that the words to aid<br/> +My purpose came not, “Look thou clasp me firm!” +</p> + +<p> +But he whose succour then not first I prov’d,<br/> +Soon as I mounted, in his arms aloft,<br/> +Embracing, held me up, and thus he spake:<br/> +“Geryon! now move thee! be thy wheeling gyres<br/> +Of ample circuit, easy thy descent.<br/> +Think on th’ unusual burden thou sustain’st.” +</p> + +<p> +As a small vessel, back’ning out from land,<br/> +Her station quits; so thence the monster loos’d,<br/> +And when he felt himself at large, turn’d round<br/> +There where the breast had been, his forked tail.<br/> +Thus, like an eel, outstretch’d at length he steer’d,<br/> +Gath’ring the air up with retractile claws. +</p> + +<p> +Not greater was the dread when Phaeton<br/> +The reins let drop at random, whence high heaven,<br/> +Whereof signs yet appear, was wrapt in flames;<br/> +Nor when ill-fated Icarus perceiv’d,<br/> +By liquefaction of the scalded wax,<br/> +The trusted pennons loosen’d from his loins,<br/> +His sire exclaiming loud, “Ill way thou keep’st!”<br/> +Than was my dread, when round me on each part<br/> +The air I view’d, and other object none<br/> +Save the fell beast. He slowly sailing, wheels<br/> +His downward motion, unobserv’d of me,<br/> +But that the wind, arising to my face,<br/> +Breathes on me from below. Now on our right<br/> +I heard the cataract beneath us leap<br/> +With hideous crash; whence bending down to’ explore,<br/> +New terror I conceiv’d at the steep plunge: +</p> + +<p> +For flames I saw, and wailings smote mine ear:<br/> +So that all trembling close I crouch’d my limbs,<br/> +And then distinguish’d, unperceiv’d before,<br/> +By the dread torments that on every side<br/> +Drew nearer, how our downward course we wound. +</p> + +<p> +As falcon, that hath long been on the wing,<br/> +But lure nor bird hath seen, while in despair<br/> +The falconer cries, “Ah me! thou stoop’st to earth!”<br/> +Wearied descends, and swiftly down the sky<br/> +In many an orbit wheels, then lighting sits<br/> +At distance from his lord in angry mood;<br/> +So Geryon lighting places us on foot<br/> +Low down at base of the deep-furrow’d rock,<br/> +And, of his burden there discharg’d, forthwith<br/> +Sprang forward, like an arrow from the string. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XVIII"></a>CANTO XVIII</h2> + +<p> +There is a place within the depths of hell<br/> +Call’d Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain’d<br/> +With hue ferruginous, e’en as the steep<br/> +That round it circling winds. Right in the midst<br/> +Of that abominable region, yawns<br/> +A spacious gulf profound, whereof the frame<br/> +Due time shall tell. The circle, that remains,<br/> +Throughout its round, between the gulf and base<br/> +Of the high craggy banks, successive forms<br/> +Ten trenches, in its hollow bottom sunk. +</p> + +<p> +As where to guard the walls, full many a foss<br/> +Begirds some stately castle, sure defence<br/> +Affording to the space within, so here<br/> +Were model’d these; and as like fortresses<br/> +E’en from their threshold to the brink without,<br/> +Are flank’d with bridges; from the rock’s low base<br/> +Thus flinty paths advanc’d, that ’cross the moles<br/> +And dikes, struck onward far as to the gulf,<br/> +That in one bound collected cuts them off.<br/> +Such was the place, wherein we found ourselves<br/> +From Geryon’s back dislodg’d. The bard to left<br/> +Held on his way, and I behind him mov’d. +</p> + +<p> +On our right hand new misery I saw,<br/> +New pains, new executioners of wrath,<br/> +That swarming peopled the first chasm. Below<br/> +Were naked sinners. Hitherward they came,<br/> +Meeting our faces from the middle point,<br/> +With us beyond but with a larger stride.<br/> +E’en thus the Romans, when the year returns<br/> +Of Jubilee, with better speed to rid<br/> +The thronging multitudes, their means devise<br/> +For such as pass the bridge; that on one side<br/> +All front toward the castle, and approach<br/> +Saint Peter’s fane, on th’ other towards the mount. +</p> + +<p> +Each divers way along the grisly rock,<br/> +Horn’d demons I beheld, with lashes huge,<br/> +That on their back unmercifully smote.<br/> +Ah! how they made them bound at the first stripe! +</p> + +<p> +None for the second waited nor the third. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime as on I pass’d, one met my sight<br/> +Whom soon as view’d; “Of him,” cried I, “not yet<br/> +Mine eye hath had his fill.” With fixed gaze<br/> +I therefore scann’d him. Straight the teacher kind<br/> +Paus’d with me, and consented I should walk<br/> +Backward a space, and the tormented spirit,<br/> +Who thought to hide him, bent his visage down.<br/> +But it avail’d him nought; for I exclaim’d:<br/> +“Thou who dost cast thy eye upon the ground,<br/> +Unless thy features do belie thee much,<br/> +Venedico art thou. But what brings thee<br/> +Into this bitter seas’ning?” He replied:<br/> +“Unwillingly I answer to thy words.<br/> +But thy clear speech, that to my mind recalls<br/> +The world I once inhabited, constrains me.<br/> +Know then ’twas I who led fair Ghisola<br/> +To do the Marquis’ will, however fame<br/> +The shameful tale have bruited. Nor alone<br/> +Bologna hither sendeth me to mourn<br/> +Rather with us the place is so o’erthrong’d<br/> +That not so many tongues this day are taught,<br/> +Betwixt the Reno and Savena’s stream,<br/> +To answer SIPA in their country’s phrase.<br/> +And if of that securer proof thou need,<br/> +Remember but our craving thirst for gold.” +</p> + +<p> +Him speaking thus, a demon with his thong<br/> +Struck, and exclaim’d, “Away! corrupter! here<br/> +Women are none for sale.” Forthwith I join’d<br/> +My escort, and few paces thence we came<br/> +To where a rock forth issued from the bank.<br/> +That easily ascended, to the right<br/> +Upon its splinter turning, we depart<br/> +From those eternal barriers. When arriv’d,<br/> +Where underneath the gaping arch lets pass<br/> +The scourged souls: “Pause here,” the teacher said,<br/> +“And let these others miserable, now<br/> +Strike on thy ken, faces not yet beheld,<br/> +For that together they with us have walk’d.” +</p> + +<p> +From the old bridge we ey’d the pack, who came<br/> +From th’ other side towards us, like the rest,<br/> +Excoriate from the lash. My gentle guide,<br/> +By me unquestion’d, thus his speech resum’d:<br/> +“Behold that lofty shade, who this way tends,<br/> +And seems too woe-begone to drop a tear.<br/> +How yet the regal aspect he retains!<br/> +Jason is he, whose skill and prowess won<br/> +The ram from Colchos. To the Lemnian isle<br/> +His passage thither led him, when those bold<br/> +And pitiless women had slain all their males.<br/> +There he with tokens and fair witching words<br/> +Hypsipyle beguil’d, a virgin young,<br/> +Who first had all the rest herself beguil’d.<br/> +Impregnated he left her there forlorn.<br/> +Such is the guilt condemns him to this pain.<br/> +Here too Medea’s inj’ries are avenged.<br/> +All bear him company, who like deceit<br/> +To his have practis’d. And thus much to know<br/> +Of the first vale suffice thee, and of those<br/> +Whom its keen torments urge.” Now had we come<br/> +Where, crossing the next pier, the straighten’d path<br/> +Bestrides its shoulders to another arch. +</p> + +<p> +Hence in the second chasm we heard the ghosts,<br/> +Who jibber in low melancholy sounds,<br/> +With wide-stretch’d nostrils snort, and on themselves<br/> +Smite with their palms. Upon the banks a scurf<br/> +From the foul steam condens’d, encrusting hung,<br/> +That held sharp combat with the sight and smell. +</p> + +<p> +So hollow is the depth, that from no part,<br/> +Save on the summit of the rocky span,<br/> +Could I distinguish aught. Thus far we came;<br/> +And thence I saw, within the foss below,<br/> +A crowd immers’d in ordure, that appear’d<br/> +Draff of the human body. There beneath<br/> +Searching with eye inquisitive, I mark’d<br/> +One with his head so grim’d, ’t were hard to deem,<br/> +If he were clerk or layman. Loud he cried:<br/> +“Why greedily thus bendest more on me,<br/> +Than on these other filthy ones, thy ken?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because if true my mem’ry,” I replied,<br/> +“I heretofore have seen thee with dry locks,<br/> +And thou Alessio art of Lucca sprung.<br/> +Therefore than all the rest I scan thee more.” +</p> + +<p> +Then beating on his brain these words he spake:<br/> +“Me thus low down my flatteries have sunk,<br/> +Wherewith I ne’er enough could glut my tongue.” +</p> + +<p> +My leader thus: “A little further stretch<br/> +Thy face, that thou the visage well mayst note<br/> +Of that besotted, sluttish courtezan,<br/> +Who there doth rend her with defiled nails,<br/> +Now crouching down, now risen on her feet. +</p> + +<p> +“Thais is this, the harlot, whose false lip<br/> +Answer’d her doting paramour that ask’d,<br/> +‘Thankest me much!’—‘Say rather wondrously,’<br/> +And seeing this here satiate be our view.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XIX"></a>CANTO XIX</h2> + +<p> +Woe to thee, Simon Magus! woe to you,<br/> +His wretched followers! who the things of God,<br/> +Which should be wedded unto goodness, them,<br/> +Rapacious as ye are, do prostitute<br/> +For gold and silver in adultery!<br/> +Now must the trumpet sound for you, since yours<br/> +Is the third chasm. Upon the following vault<br/> +We now had mounted, where the rock impends<br/> +Directly o’er the centre of the foss. +</p> + +<p> +Wisdom Supreme! how wonderful the art,<br/> +Which thou dost manifest in heaven, in earth,<br/> +And in the evil world, how just a meed<br/> +Allotting by thy virtue unto all! +</p> + +<p> +I saw the livid stone, throughout the sides<br/> +And in its bottom full of apertures,<br/> +All equal in their width, and circular each,<br/> +Nor ample less nor larger they appear’d<br/> +Than in Saint John’s fair dome of me belov’d<br/> +Those fram’d to hold the pure baptismal streams,<br/> +One of the which I brake, some few years past,<br/> +To save a whelming infant; and be this<br/> +A seal to undeceive whoever doubts<br/> +The motive of my deed. From out the mouth<br/> +Of every one, emerg’d a sinner’s feet<br/> +And of the legs high upward as the calf<br/> +The rest beneath was hid. On either foot<br/> +The soles were burning, whence the flexile joints<br/> +Glanc’d with such violent motion, as had snapt<br/> +Asunder cords or twisted withs. As flame,<br/> +Feeding on unctuous matter, glides along<br/> +The surface, scarcely touching where it moves;<br/> +So here, from heel to point, glided the flames. +</p> + +<p> +“Master! say who is he, than all the rest<br/> +Glancing in fiercer agony, on whom<br/> +A ruddier flame doth prey?” I thus inquir’d. +</p> + +<p> +“If thou be willing,” he replied, “that I<br/> +Carry thee down, where least the slope bank falls,<br/> +He of himself shall tell thee and his wrongs.” +</p> + +<p> +I then: “As pleases thee to me is best.<br/> +Thou art my lord; and know’st that ne’er I quit<br/> +Thy will: what silence hides that knowest thou.”<br/> +Thereat on the fourth pier we came, we turn’d,<br/> +And on our left descended to the depth,<br/> +A narrow strait and perforated close.<br/> +Nor from his side my leader set me down,<br/> +Till to his orifice he brought, whose limb<br/> +Quiv’ring express’d his pang. “Whoe’er thou art,<br/> +Sad spirit! thus revers’d, and as a stake<br/> +Driv’n in the soil!” I in these words began,<br/> +“If thou be able, utter forth thy voice.” +</p> + +<p> +There stood I like the friar, that doth shrive<br/> +A wretch for murder doom’d, who e’en when fix’d,<br/> +Calleth him back, whence death awhile delays. +</p> + +<p> +He shouted: “Ha! already standest there?<br/> +Already standest there, O Boniface!<br/> +By many a year the writing play’d me false.<br/> +So early dost thou surfeit with the wealth,<br/> +For which thou fearedst not in guile to take<br/> +The lovely lady, and then mangle her?” +</p> + +<p> +I felt as those who, piercing not the drift<br/> +Of answer made them, stand as if expos’d<br/> +In mockery, nor know what to reply,<br/> +When Virgil thus admonish’d: “Tell him quick,<br/> +I am not he, not he, whom thou believ’st.” +</p> + +<p> +And I, as was enjoin’d me, straight replied. +</p> + +<p> +That heard, the spirit all did wrench his feet,<br/> +And sighing next in woeful accent spake:<br/> +“What then of me requirest? If to know<br/> +So much imports thee, who I am, that thou<br/> +Hast therefore down the bank descended, learn<br/> +That in the mighty mantle I was rob’d,<br/> +And of a she-bear was indeed the son,<br/> +So eager to advance my whelps, that there<br/> +My having in my purse above I stow’d,<br/> +And here myself. Under my head are dragg’d<br/> +The rest, my predecessors in the guilt<br/> +Of simony. Stretch’d at their length they lie<br/> +Along an opening in the rock. ’Midst them<br/> +I also low shall fall, soon as he comes,<br/> +For whom I took thee, when so hastily<br/> +I question’d. But already longer time<br/> +Hath pass’d, since my souls kindled, and I thus<br/> +Upturn’d have stood, than is his doom to stand<br/> +Planted with fiery feet. For after him,<br/> +One yet of deeds more ugly shall arrive,<br/> +From forth the west, a shepherd without law,<br/> +Fated to cover both his form and mine.<br/> +He a new Jason shall be call’d, of whom<br/> +In Maccabees we read; and favour such<br/> +As to that priest his king indulgent show’d,<br/> +Shall be of France’s monarch shown to him.” +</p> + +<p> +I know not if I here too far presum’d,<br/> +But in this strain I answer’d: “Tell me now,<br/> +What treasures from St. Peter at the first<br/> +Our Lord demanded, when he put the keys<br/> +Into his charge? Surely he ask’d no more<br/> +But, Follow me! Nor Peter nor the rest<br/> +Or gold or silver of Matthias took,<br/> +When lots were cast upon the forfeit place<br/> +Of the condemned soul. Abide thou then;<br/> +Thy punishment of right is merited:<br/> +And look thou well to that ill-gotten coin,<br/> +Which against Charles thy hardihood inspir’d.<br/> +If reverence of the keys restrain’d me not,<br/> +Which thou in happier time didst hold, I yet<br/> +Severer speech might use. Your avarice<br/> +O’ercasts the world with mourning, under foot<br/> +Treading the good, and raising bad men up.<br/> +Of shepherds, like to you, th’ Evangelist<br/> +Was ware, when her, who sits upon the waves,<br/> +With kings in filthy whoredom he beheld,<br/> +She who with seven heads tower’d at her birth,<br/> +And from ten horns her proof of glory drew,<br/> +Long as her spouse in virtue took delight.<br/> +Of gold and silver ye have made your god,<br/> +Diff’ring wherein from the idolater,<br/> +But he that worships one, a hundred ye?<br/> +Ah, Constantine! to how much ill gave birth,<br/> +Not thy conversion, but that plenteous dower,<br/> +Which the first wealthy Father gain’d from thee!” +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, as thus I sung, he, whether wrath<br/> +Or conscience smote him, violent upsprang<br/> +Spinning on either sole. I do believe<br/> +My teacher well was pleas’d, with so compos’d<br/> +A lip, he listen’d ever to the sound<br/> +Of the true words I utter’d. In both arms<br/> +He caught, and to his bosom lifting me<br/> +Upward retrac’d the way of his descent. +</p> + +<p> +Nor weary of his weight he press’d me close,<br/> +Till to the summit of the rock we came,<br/> +Our passage from the fourth to the fifth pier.<br/> +His cherish’d burden there gently he plac’d<br/> +Upon the rugged rock and steep, a path<br/> +Not easy for the clamb’ring goat to mount. +</p> + +<p> +Thence to my view another vale appear’d +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XX"></a>CANTO XX</h2> + +<p> +And now the verse proceeds to torments new,<br/> +Fit argument of this the twentieth strain<br/> +Of the first song, whose awful theme records<br/> +The spirits whelm’d in woe. Earnest I look’d<br/> +Into the depth, that open’d to my view,<br/> +Moisten’d with tears of anguish, and beheld<br/> +A tribe, that came along the hollow vale,<br/> +In silence weeping: such their step as walk<br/> +Quires chanting solemn litanies on earth. +</p> + +<p> +As on them more direct mine eye descends,<br/> +Each wondrously seem’d to be revers’d<br/> +At the neck-bone, so that the countenance<br/> +Was from the reins averted: and because<br/> +None might before him look, they were compell’d<br/> +To’ advance with backward gait. Thus one perhaps<br/> +Hath been by force of palsy clean transpos’d,<br/> +But I ne’er saw it nor believe it so. +</p> + +<p> +Now, reader! think within thyself, so God<br/> +Fruit of thy reading give thee! how I long<br/> +Could keep my visage dry, when I beheld<br/> +Near me our form distorted in such guise,<br/> +That on the hinder parts fall’n from the face<br/> +The tears down-streaming roll’d. Against a rock<br/> +I leant and wept, so that my guide exclaim’d:<br/> +“What, and art thou too witless as the rest?<br/> +Here pity most doth show herself alive,<br/> +When she is dead. What guilt exceedeth his,<br/> +Who with Heaven’s judgment in his passion strives?<br/> +Raise up thy head, raise up, and see the man,<br/> +Before whose eyes earth gap’d in Thebes, when all<br/> +Cried out, ‘Amphiaraus, whither rushest?<br/> +‘Why leavest thou the war?’ He not the less<br/> +Fell ruining far as to Minos down,<br/> +Whose grapple none eludes. Lo! how he makes<br/> +The breast his shoulders, and who once too far<br/> +Before him wish’d to see, now backward looks,<br/> +And treads reverse his path. Tiresias note,<br/> +Who semblance chang’d, when woman he became<br/> +Of male, through every limb transform’d, and then<br/> +Once more behov’d him with his rod to strike<br/> +The two entwining serpents, ere the plumes,<br/> +That mark’d the better sex, might shoot again. +</p> + +<p> +“Aruns, with more his belly facing, comes.<br/> +On Luni’s mountains ’midst the marbles white,<br/> +Where delves Carrara’s hind, who wons beneath,<br/> +A cavern was his dwelling, whence the stars<br/> +And main-sea wide in boundless view he held. +</p> + +<p> +“The next, whose loosen’d tresses overspread<br/> +Her bosom, which thou seest not (for each hair<br/> +On that side grows) was Manto, she who search’d<br/> +Through many regions, and at length her seat<br/> +Fix’d in my native land, whence a short space<br/> +My words detain thy audience. When her sire<br/> +From life departed, and in servitude<br/> +The city dedicate to Bacchus mourn’d,<br/> +Long time she went a wand’rer through the world.<br/> +Aloft in Italy’s delightful land<br/> +A lake there lies, at foot of that proud Alp,<br/> +That o’er the Tyrol locks Germania in,<br/> +Its name Benacus, which a thousand rills,<br/> +Methinks, and more, water between the vale<br/> +Camonica and Garda and the height<br/> +Of Apennine remote. There is a spot<br/> +At midway of that lake, where he who bears<br/> +Of Trento’s flock the past’ral staff, with him<br/> +Of Brescia, and the Veronese, might each<br/> +Passing that way his benediction give.<br/> +A garrison of goodly site and strong<br/> +Peschiera stands, to awe with front oppos’d<br/> +The Bergamese and Brescian, whence the shore<br/> +More slope each way descends. There, whatsoev’er<br/> +Benacus’ bosom holds not, tumbling o’er<br/> +Down falls, and winds a river flood beneath<br/> +Through the green pastures. Soon as in his course<br/> +The steam makes head, Benacus then no more<br/> +They call the name, but Mincius, till at last<br/> +Reaching Governo into Po he falls.<br/> +Not far his course hath run, when a wide flat<br/> +It finds, which overstretchmg as a marsh<br/> +It covers, pestilent in summer oft.<br/> +Hence journeying, the savage maiden saw<br/> +’Midst of the fen a territory waste<br/> +And naked of inhabitants. To shun<br/> +All human converse, here she with her slaves<br/> +Plying her arts remain’d, and liv’d, and left<br/> +Her body tenantless. Thenceforth the tribes,<br/> +Who round were scatter’d, gath’ring to that place<br/> +Assembled; for its strength was great, enclos’d<br/> +On all parts by the fen. On those dead bones<br/> +They rear’d themselves a city, for her sake,<br/> +Calling it Mantua, who first chose the spot,<br/> +Nor ask’d another omen for the name,<br/> +Wherein more numerous the people dwelt,<br/> +Ere Casalodi’s madness by deceit<br/> +Was wrong’d of Pinamonte. If thou hear<br/> +Henceforth another origin assign’d<br/> +Of that my country, I forewarn thee now,<br/> +That falsehood none beguile thee of the truth.” +</p> + +<p> +I answer’d: “Teacher, I conclude thy words<br/> +So certain, that all else shall be to me<br/> +As embers lacking life. But now of these,<br/> +Who here proceed, instruct me, if thou see<br/> +Any that merit more especial note.<br/> +For thereon is my mind alone intent.” +</p> + +<p> +He straight replied: “That spirit, from whose cheek<br/> +The beard sweeps o’er his shoulders brown, what time<br/> +Graecia was emptied of her males, that scarce<br/> +The cradles were supplied, the seer was he<br/> +In Aulis, who with Calchas gave the sign<br/> +When first to cut the cable. Him they nam’d<br/> +Eurypilus: so sings my tragic strain,<br/> +In which majestic measure well thou know’st,<br/> +Who know’st it all. That other, round the loins<br/> +So slender of his shape, was Michael Scot,<br/> +Practis’d in ev’ry slight of magic wile. +</p> + +<p> +“Guido Bonatti see: Asdente mark,<br/> +Who now were willing, he had tended still<br/> +The thread and cordwain; and too late repents. +</p> + +<p> +“See next the wretches, who the needle left,<br/> +The shuttle and the spindle, and became<br/> +Diviners: baneful witcheries they wrought<br/> +With images and herbs. But onward now:<br/> +For now doth Cain with fork of thorns confine<br/> +On either hemisphere, touching the wave<br/> +Beneath the towers of Seville. Yesternight<br/> +The moon was round. Thou mayst remember well:<br/> +For she good service did thee in the gloom<br/> +Of the deep wood.” This said, both onward mov’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXI"></a>CANTO XXI</h2> + +<p> +Thus we from bridge to bridge, with other talk,<br/> +The which my drama cares not to rehearse,<br/> +Pass’d on; and to the summit reaching, stood<br/> +To view another gap, within the round<br/> +Of Malebolge, other bootless pangs. +</p> + +<p> +Marvelous darkness shadow’d o’er the place. +</p> + +<p> +In the Venetians’ arsenal as boils<br/> +Through wintry months tenacious pitch, to smear<br/> +Their unsound vessels; for th’ inclement time<br/> +Sea-faring men restrains, and in that while<br/> +His bark one builds anew, another stops<br/> +The ribs of his, that hath made many a voyage;<br/> +One hammers at the prow, one at the poop;<br/> +This shapeth oars, that other cables twirls,<br/> +The mizen one repairs and main-sail rent<br/> +So not by force of fire but art divine<br/> +Boil’d here a glutinous thick mass, that round<br/> +Lim’d all the shore beneath. I that beheld,<br/> +But therein nought distinguish’d, save the surge,<br/> +Rais’d by the boiling, in one mighty swell<br/> +Heave, and by turns subsiding and fall. While there<br/> +I fix’d my ken below, “Mark! mark!” my guide<br/> +Exclaiming, drew me towards him from the place,<br/> +Wherein I stood. I turn’d myself as one,<br/> +Impatient to behold that which beheld<br/> +He needs must shun, whom sudden fear unmans,<br/> +That he his flight delays not for the view.<br/> +Behind me I discern’d a devil black,<br/> +That running, up advanc’d along the rock.<br/> +Ah! what fierce cruelty his look bespake!<br/> +In act how bitter did he seem, with wings<br/> +Buoyant outstretch’d and feet of nimblest tread!<br/> +His shoulder proudly eminent and sharp<br/> +Was with a sinner charg’d; by either haunch<br/> +He held him, the foot’s sinew griping fast. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye of our bridge!” he cried, “keen-talon’d fiends!<br/> +Lo! one of Santa Zita’s elders! Him<br/> +Whelm ye beneath, while I return for more.<br/> +That land hath store of such. All men are there,<br/> +Except Bonturo, barterers: of ‘no’<br/> +For lucre there an ‘aye’ is quickly made.” +</p> + +<p> +Him dashing down, o’er the rough rock he turn’d,<br/> +Nor ever after thief a mastiff loos’d<br/> +Sped with like eager haste. That other sank<br/> +And forthwith writing to the surface rose.<br/> +But those dark demons, shrouded by the bridge,<br/> +Cried “Here the hallow’d visage saves not: here<br/> +Is other swimming than in Serchio’s wave.<br/> +Wherefore if thou desire we rend thee not,<br/> +Take heed thou mount not o’er the pitch.” This said,<br/> +They grappled him with more than hundred hooks,<br/> +And shouted: “Cover’d thou must sport thee here;<br/> +So, if thou canst, in secret mayst thou filch.” +</p> + +<p> +E’en thus the cook bestirs him, with his grooms,<br/> +To thrust the flesh into the caldron down<br/> +With flesh-hooks, that it float not on the top. +</p> + +<p> +Me then my guide bespake: “Lest they descry,<br/> +That thou art here, behind a craggy rock<br/> +Bend low and screen thee; and whate’er of force<br/> +Be offer’d me, or insult, fear thou not:<br/> +For I am well advis’d, who have been erst<br/> +In the like fray.” Beyond the bridge’s head<br/> +Therewith he pass’d, and reaching the sixth pier,<br/> +Behov’d him then a forehead terror-proof. +</p> + +<p> +With storm and fury, as when dogs rush forth<br/> +Upon the poor man’s back, who suddenly<br/> +From whence he standeth makes his suit; so rush’d<br/> +Those from beneath the arch, and against him<br/> +Their weapons all they pointed. He aloud:<br/> +“Be none of you outrageous: ere your time<br/> +Dare seize me, come forth from amongst you one, +</p> + +<p> +“Who having heard my words, decide he then<br/> +If he shall tear these limbs.” They shouted loud,<br/> +“Go, Malacoda!” Whereat one advanc’d,<br/> +The others standing firm, and as he came,<br/> +“What may this turn avail him?” he exclaim’d. +</p> + +<p> +“Believ’st thou, Malacoda! I had come<br/> +Thus far from all your skirmishing secure,”<br/> +My teacher answered, “without will divine<br/> +And destiny propitious? Pass we then<br/> +For so Heaven’s pleasure is, that I should lead<br/> +Another through this savage wilderness.” +</p> + +<p> +Forthwith so fell his pride, that he let drop<br/> +The instrument of torture at his feet,<br/> +And to the rest exclaim’d: “We have no power<br/> +To strike him.” Then to me my guide: “O thou!<br/> +Who on the bridge among the crags dost sit<br/> +Low crouching, safely now to me return.” +</p> + +<p> +I rose, and towards him moved with speed: the fiends<br/> +Meantime all forward drew: me terror seiz’d<br/> +Lest they should break the compact they had made.<br/> +Thus issuing from Caprona, once I saw<br/> +Th’ infantry dreading, lest his covenant<br/> +The foe should break; so close he hemm’d them round. +</p> + +<p> +I to my leader’s side adher’d, mine eyes<br/> +With fixt and motionless observance bent<br/> +On their unkindly visage. They their hooks<br/> +Protruding, one the other thus bespake:<br/> +“Wilt thou I touch him on the hip?” To whom<br/> +Was answer’d: “Even so; nor miss thy aim.” +</p> + +<p> +But he, who was in conf’rence with my guide,<br/> +Turn’d rapid round, and thus the demon spake:<br/> +“Stay, stay thee, Scarmiglione!” Then to us<br/> +He added: “Further footing to your step<br/> +This rock affords not, shiver’d to the base<br/> +Of the sixth arch. But would you still proceed,<br/> +Up by this cavern go: not distant far,<br/> +Another rock will yield you passage safe.<br/> +Yesterday, later by five hours than now,<br/> +Twelve hundred threescore years and six had fill’d<br/> +The circuit of their course, since here the way<br/> +Was broken. Thitherward I straight dispatch<br/> +Certain of these my scouts, who shall espy<br/> +If any on the surface bask. With them<br/> +Go ye: for ye shall find them nothing fell.<br/> +Come Alichino forth,” with that he cried,<br/> +“And Calcabrina, and Cagnazzo thou!<br/> +The troop of ten let Barbariccia lead.<br/> +With Libicocco Draghinazzo haste,<br/> +Fang’d Ciriatto, Grafflacane fierce,<br/> +And Farfarello, and mad Rubicant.<br/> +Search ye around the bubbling tar. For these,<br/> +In safety lead them, where the other crag<br/> +Uninterrupted traverses the dens.” +</p> + +<p> +I then: “O master! what a sight is there!<br/> +Ah! without escort, journey we alone,<br/> +Which, if thou know the way, I covet not.<br/> +Unless thy prudence fail thee, dost not mark<br/> +How they do gnarl upon us, and their scowl<br/> +Threatens us present tortures?” He replied:<br/> +“I charge thee fear not: let them, as they will,<br/> +Gnarl on: ’t is but in token of their spite<br/> +Against the souls, who mourn in torment steep’d.” +</p> + +<p> +To leftward o’er the pier they turn’d; but each<br/> +Had first between his teeth prest close the tongue,<br/> +Toward their leader for a signal looking,<br/> +Which he with sound obscene triumphant gave. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXII"></a>CANTO XXII</h2> + +<p> +It hath been heretofore my chance to see<br/> +Horsemen with martial order shifting camp,<br/> +To onset sallying, or in muster rang’d,<br/> +Or in retreat sometimes outstretch’d for flight;<br/> +Light-armed squadrons and fleet foragers<br/> +Scouring thy plains, Arezzo! have I seen,<br/> +And clashing tournaments, and tilting jousts,<br/> +Now with the sound of trumpets, now of bells,<br/> +Tabors, or signals made from castled heights,<br/> +And with inventions multiform, our own,<br/> +Or introduc’d from foreign land; but ne’er<br/> +To such a strange recorder I beheld,<br/> +In evolution moving, horse nor foot,<br/> +Nor ship, that tack’d by sign from land or star. +</p> + +<p> +With the ten demons on our way we went;<br/> +Ah fearful company! but in the church<br/> +With saints, with gluttons at the tavern’s mess. +</p> + +<p> +Still earnest on the pitch I gaz’d, to mark<br/> +All things whate’er the chasm contain’d, and those<br/> +Who burn’d within. As dolphins, that, in sign<br/> +To mariners, heave high their arched backs,<br/> +That thence forewarn’d they may advise to save<br/> +Their threaten’d vessels; so, at intervals,<br/> +To ease the pain his back some sinner show’d,<br/> +Then hid more nimbly than the lightning glance. +</p> + +<p> +E’en as the frogs, that of a wat’ry moat<br/> +Stand at the brink, with the jaws only out,<br/> +Their feet and of the trunk all else concealed,<br/> +Thus on each part the sinners stood, but soon<br/> +As Barbariccia was at hand, so they<br/> +Drew back under the wave. I saw, and yet<br/> +My heart doth stagger, one, that waited thus,<br/> +As it befalls that oft one frog remains,<br/> +While the next springs away: and Graffiacan,<br/> +Who of the fiends was nearest, grappling seiz’d<br/> +His clotted locks, and dragg’d him sprawling up,<br/> +That he appear’d to me an otter. Each<br/> +Already by their names I knew, so well<br/> +When they were chosen, I observ’d, and mark’d<br/> +How one the other call’d. “O Rubicant!<br/> +See that his hide thou with thy talons flay,”<br/> +Shouted together all the cursed crew. +</p> + +<p> +Then I: “Inform thee, master! if thou may,<br/> +What wretched soul is this, on whom their hand<br/> +His foes have laid.” My leader to his side<br/> +Approach’d, and whence he came inquir’d, to whom<br/> +Was answer’d thus: “Born in Navarre’s domain<br/> +My mother plac’d me in a lord’s retinue,<br/> +For she had borne me to a losel vile,<br/> +A spendthrift of his substance and himself.<br/> +The good king Thibault after that I serv’d,<br/> +To peculating here my thoughts were turn’d,<br/> +Whereof I give account in this dire heat.” +</p> + +<p> +Straight Ciriatto, from whose mouth a tusk<br/> +Issued on either side, as from a boar,<br/> +Ript him with one of these. ’Twixt evil claws<br/> +The mouse had fall’n: but Barbariccia cried,<br/> +Seizing him with both arms: “Stand thou apart,<br/> +While I do fix him on my prong transpierc’d.”<br/> +Then added, turning to my guide his face,<br/> +“Inquire of him, if more thou wish to learn,<br/> +Ere he again be rent.” My leader thus:<br/> +“Then tell us of the partners in thy guilt;<br/> +Knowest thou any sprung of Latian land<br/> +Under the tar?”—“I parted,” he replied,<br/> +“But now from one, who sojourn’d not far thence;<br/> +So were I under shelter now with him!<br/> +Nor hook nor talon then should scare me more.”—. +</p> + +<p> +“Too long we suffer,” Libicocco cried,<br/> +Then, darting forth a prong, seiz’d on his arm,<br/> +And mangled bore away the sinewy part.<br/> +Him Draghinazzo by his thighs beneath<br/> +Would next have caught, whence angrily their chief,<br/> +Turning on all sides round, with threat’ning brow<br/> +Restrain’d them. When their strife a little ceas’d,<br/> +Of him, who yet was gazing on his wound,<br/> +My teacher thus without delay inquir’d:<br/> +“Who was the spirit, from whom by evil hap<br/> +Parting, as thou has told, thou cam’st to shore?”— +</p> + +<p> +“It was the friar Gomita,” he rejoin’d,<br/> +“He of Gallura, vessel of all guile,<br/> +Who had his master’s enemies in hand,<br/> +And us’d them so that they commend him well.<br/> +Money he took, and them at large dismiss’d.<br/> +So he reports: and in each other charge<br/> +Committed to his keeping, play’d the part<br/> +Of barterer to the height: with him doth herd<br/> +The chief of Logodoro, Michel Zanche.<br/> +Sardinia is a theme, whereof their tongue<br/> +Is never weary. Out! alas! behold<br/> +That other, how he grins! More would I say,<br/> +But tremble lest he mean to maul me sore.” +</p> + +<p> +Their captain then to Farfarello turning,<br/> +Who roll’d his moony eyes in act to strike,<br/> +Rebuk’d him thus: “Off! cursed bird! Avaunt!”— +</p> + +<p> +“If ye desire to see or hear,” he thus<br/> +Quaking with dread resum’d, “or Tuscan spirits<br/> +Or Lombard, I will cause them to appear.<br/> +Meantime let these ill talons bate their fury,<br/> +So that no vengeance they may fear from them,<br/> +And I, remaining in this self-same place,<br/> +Will for myself but one, make sev’n appear,<br/> +When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for so<br/> +Our custom is to call each other up.” +</p> + +<p> +Cagnazzo at that word deriding grinn’d,<br/> +Then wagg’d the head and spake: “Hear his device,<br/> +Mischievous as he is, to plunge him down.” +</p> + +<p> +Whereto he thus, who fail’d not in rich store<br/> +Of nice-wove toils; “Mischief forsooth extreme,<br/> +Meant only to procure myself more woe!” +</p> + +<p> +No longer Alichino then refrain’d,<br/> +But thus, the rest gainsaying, him bespake:<br/> +“If thou do cast thee down, I not on foot<br/> +Will chase thee, but above the pitch will beat<br/> +My plumes. Quit we the vantage ground, and let<br/> +The bank be as a shield, that we may see<br/> +If singly thou prevail against us all.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, reader, of new sport expect to hear! +</p> + +<p> +They each one turn’d his eyes to the’ other shore,<br/> +He first, who was the hardest to persuade.<br/> +The spirit of Navarre chose well his time,<br/> +Planted his feet on land, and at one leap<br/> +Escaping disappointed their resolve. +</p> + +<p> +Them quick resentment stung, but him the most,<br/> +Who was the cause of failure; in pursuit<br/> +He therefore sped, exclaiming; “Thou art caught.” +</p> + +<p> +But little it avail’d: terror outstripp’d<br/> +His following flight: the other plung’d beneath,<br/> +And he with upward pinion rais’d his breast:<br/> +E’en thus the water-fowl, when she perceives<br/> +The falcon near, dives instant down, while he<br/> +Enrag’d and spent retires. That mockery<br/> +In Calcabrina fury stirr’d, who flew<br/> +After him, with desire of strife inflam’d;<br/> +And, for the barterer had ’scap’d, so turn’d<br/> +His talons on his comrade. O’er the dyke<br/> +In grapple close they join’d; but the’ other prov’d<br/> +A goshawk able to rend well his foe; +</p> + +<p> +And in the boiling lake both fell. The heat<br/> +Was umpire soon between them, but in vain<br/> +To lift themselves they strove, so fast were glued<br/> +Their pennons. Barbariccia, as the rest,<br/> +That chance lamenting, four in flight dispatch’d<br/> +From the’ other coast, with all their weapons arm’d.<br/> +They, to their post on each side speedily<br/> +Descending, stretch’d their hooks toward the fiends,<br/> +Who flounder’d, inly burning from their scars:<br/> +And we departing left them to that broil. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXIII"></a>CANTO XXIII</h2> + +<p> +In silence and in solitude we went,<br/> +One first, the other following his steps,<br/> +As minor friars journeying on their road. +</p> + +<p> +The present fray had turn’d my thoughts to muse<br/> +Upon old Aesop’s fable, where he told<br/> +What fate unto the mouse and frog befell.<br/> +For language hath not sounds more like in sense,<br/> +Than are these chances, if the origin<br/> +And end of each be heedfully compar’d.<br/> +And as one thought bursts from another forth,<br/> +So afterward from that another sprang,<br/> +Which added doubly to my former fear.<br/> +For thus I reason’d: “These through us have been<br/> +So foil’d, with loss and mock’ry so complete,<br/> +As needs must sting them sore. If anger then<br/> +Be to their evil will conjoin’d, more fell<br/> +They shall pursue us, than the savage hound<br/> +Snatches the leveret, panting ’twixt his jaws.” +</p> + +<p> +Already I perceiv’d my hair stand all<br/> +On end with terror, and look’d eager back. +</p> + +<p> +“Teacher,” I thus began, “if speedily<br/> +Thyself and me thou hide not, much I dread<br/> +Those evil talons. Even now behind<br/> +They urge us: quick imagination works<br/> +So forcibly, that I already feel them.” +</p> + +<p> +He answer’d: “Were I form’d of leaded glass,<br/> +I should not sooner draw unto myself<br/> +Thy outward image, than I now imprint<br/> +That from within. This moment came thy thoughts<br/> +Presented before mine, with similar act<br/> +And count’nance similar, so that from both<br/> +I one design have fram’d. If the right coast<br/> +Incline so much, that we may thence descend<br/> +Into the other chasm, we shall escape<br/> +Secure from this imagined pursuit.” +</p> + +<p> +He had not spoke his purpose to the end,<br/> +When I from far beheld them with spread wings<br/> +Approach to take us. Suddenly my guide<br/> +Caught me, ev’n as a mother that from sleep<br/> +Is by the noise arous’d, and near her sees<br/> +The climbing fires, who snatches up her babe<br/> +And flies ne’er pausing, careful more of him<br/> +Than of herself, that but a single vest<br/> +Clings round her limbs. Down from the jutting beach<br/> +Supine he cast him, to that pendent rock,<br/> +Which closes on one part the other chasm. +</p> + +<p> +Never ran water with such hurrying pace<br/> +Adown the tube to turn a landmill’s wheel,<br/> +When nearest it approaches to the spokes,<br/> +As then along that edge my master ran,<br/> +Carrying me in his bosom, as a child,<br/> +Not a companion. Scarcely had his feet<br/> +Reach’d to the lowest of the bed beneath, +</p> + +<p> +When over us the steep they reach’d; but fear<br/> +In him was none; for that high Providence,<br/> +Which plac’d them ministers of the fifth foss,<br/> +Power of departing thence took from them all. +</p> + +<p> +There in the depth we saw a painted tribe,<br/> +Who pac’d with tardy steps around, and wept,<br/> +Faint in appearance and o’ercome with toil.<br/> +Caps had they on, with hoods, that fell low down<br/> +Before their eyes, in fashion like to those<br/> +Worn by the monks in Cologne. Their outside<br/> +Was overlaid with gold, dazzling to view,<br/> +But leaden all within, and of such weight,<br/> +That Frederick’s compar’d to these were straw.<br/> +Oh, everlasting wearisome attire! +</p> + +<p> +We yet once more with them together turn’d<br/> +To leftward, on their dismal moan intent.<br/> +But by the weight oppress’d, so slowly came<br/> +The fainting people, that our company<br/> +Was chang’d at every movement of the step. +</p> + +<p> +Whence I my guide address’d: “See that thou find<br/> +Some spirit, whose name may by his deeds be known,<br/> +And to that end look round thee as thou go’st.” +</p> + +<p> +Then one, who understood the Tuscan voice,<br/> +Cried after us aloud: “Hold in your feet,<br/> +Ye who so swiftly speed through the dusk air.<br/> +Perchance from me thou shalt obtain thy wish.” +</p> + +<p> +Whereat my leader, turning, me bespake:<br/> +“Pause, and then onward at their pace proceed.” +</p> + +<p> +I staid, and saw two Spirits in whose look<br/> +Impatient eagerness of mind was mark’d<br/> +To overtake me; but the load they bare<br/> +And narrow path retarded their approach. +</p> + +<p> +Soon as arriv’d, they with an eye askance<br/> +Perus’d me, but spake not: then turning each<br/> +To other thus conferring said: “This one<br/> +Seems, by the action of his throat, alive.<br/> +And, be they dead, what privilege allows<br/> +They walk unmantled by the cumbrous stole?” +</p> + +<p> +Then thus to me: “Tuscan, who visitest<br/> +The college of the mourning hypocrites,<br/> +Disdain not to instruct us who thou art.” +</p> + +<p> +“By Arno’s pleasant stream,” I thus replied,<br/> +“In the great city I was bred and grew,<br/> +And wear the body I have ever worn.<br/> +but who are ye, from whom such mighty grief,<br/> +As now I witness, courseth down your cheeks?<br/> +What torment breaks forth in this bitter woe?”<br/> +“Our bonnets gleaming bright with orange hue,”<br/> +One of them answer’d, “are so leaden gross,<br/> +That with their weight they make the balances<br/> +To crack beneath them. Joyous friars we were,<br/> +Bologna’s natives, Catalano I,<br/> +He Loderingo nam’d, and by thy land<br/> +Together taken, as men used to take<br/> +A single and indifferent arbiter,<br/> +To reconcile their strifes. How there we sped,<br/> +Gardingo’s vicinage can best declare.” +</p> + +<p> +“O friars!” I began, “your miseries—”<br/> +But there brake off, for one had caught my eye,<br/> +Fix’d to a cross with three stakes on the ground:<br/> +He, when he saw me, writh’d himself, throughout<br/> +Distorted, ruffling with deep sighs his beard.<br/> +And Catalano, who thereof was ’ware, +</p> + +<p> +Thus spake: “That pierced spirit, whom intent<br/> +Thou view’st, was he who gave the Pharisees<br/> +Counsel, that it were fitting for one man<br/> +To suffer for the people. He doth lie<br/> +Transverse; nor any passes, but him first<br/> +Behoves make feeling trial how each weighs.<br/> +In straits like this along the foss are plac’d<br/> +The father of his consort, and the rest<br/> +Partakers in that council, seed of ill<br/> +And sorrow to the Jews.” I noted then,<br/> +How Virgil gaz’d with wonder upon him,<br/> +Thus abjectly extended on the cross<br/> +In banishment eternal. To the friar<br/> +He next his words address’d: “We pray ye tell,<br/> +If so be lawful, whether on our right<br/> +Lies any opening in the rock, whereby<br/> +We both may issue hence, without constraint<br/> +On the dark angels, that compell’d they come<br/> +To lead us from this depth.” He thus replied:<br/> +“Nearer than thou dost hope, there is a rock<br/> +From the next circle moving, which o’ersteps<br/> +Each vale of horror, save that here his cope<br/> +Is shatter’d. By the ruin ye may mount:<br/> +For on the side it slants, and most the height<br/> +Rises below.” With head bent down awhile<br/> +My leader stood, then spake: “He warn’d us ill,<br/> +Who yonder hangs the sinners on his hook.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the friar: At Bologna erst<br/> +“I many vices of the devil heard,<br/> +Among the rest was said, ‘He is a liar,<br/> +And the father of lies!’” When he had spoke,<br/> +My leader with large strides proceeded on,<br/> +Somewhat disturb’d with anger in his look. +</p> + +<p> +I therefore left the spirits heavy laden,<br/> +And following, his beloved footsteps mark’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXIV"></a>CANTO XXIV</h2> + +<p> +In the year’s early nonage, when the sun<br/> +Tempers his tresses in Aquarius’ urn,<br/> +And now towards equal day the nights recede,<br/> +When as the rime upon the earth puts on<br/> +Her dazzling sister’s image, but not long<br/> +Her milder sway endures, then riseth up<br/> +The village hind, whom fails his wintry store,<br/> +And looking out beholds the plain around<br/> +All whiten’d, whence impatiently he smites<br/> +His thighs, and to his hut returning in,<br/> +There paces to and fro, wailing his lot,<br/> +As a discomfited and helpless man;<br/> +Then comes he forth again, and feels new hope<br/> +Spring in his bosom, finding e’en thus soon<br/> +The world hath chang’d its count’nance, grasps his crook,<br/> +And forth to pasture drives his little flock:<br/> +So me my guide dishearten’d when I saw<br/> +His troubled forehead, and so speedily<br/> +That ill was cur’d; for at the fallen bridge<br/> +Arriving, towards me with a look as sweet,<br/> +He turn’d him back, as that I first beheld<br/> +At the steep mountain’s foot. Regarding well<br/> +The ruin, and some counsel first maintain’d<br/> +With his own thought, he open’d wide his arm<br/> +And took me up. As one, who, while he works,<br/> +Computes his labour’s issue, that he seems<br/> +Still to foresee the’ effect, so lifting me<br/> +Up to the summit of one peak, he fix’d<br/> +His eye upon another. “Grapple that,”<br/> +Said he, “but first make proof, if it be such<br/> +As will sustain thee.” For one capp’d with lead<br/> +This were no journey. Scarcely he, though light,<br/> +And I, though onward push’d from crag to crag,<br/> +Could mount. And if the precinct of this coast<br/> +Were not less ample than the last, for him<br/> +I know not, but my strength had surely fail’d.<br/> +But Malebolge all toward the mouth<br/> +Inclining of the nethermost abyss,<br/> +The site of every valley hence requires,<br/> +That one side upward slope, the other fall. +</p> + +<p> +At length the point of our descent we reach’d<br/> +From the last flag: soon as to that arriv’d,<br/> +So was the breath exhausted from my lungs,<br/> +I could no further, but did seat me there. +</p> + +<p> +“Now needs thy best of man;” so spake my guide:<br/> +“For not on downy plumes, nor under shade<br/> +Of canopy reposing, fame is won,<br/> +Without which whosoe’er consumes his days<br/> +Leaveth such vestige of himself on earth,<br/> +As smoke in air or foam upon the wave.<br/> +Thou therefore rise: vanish thy weariness<br/> +By the mind’s effort, in each struggle form’d<br/> +To vanquish, if she suffer not the weight<br/> +Of her corporeal frame to crush her down.<br/> +A longer ladder yet remains to scale.<br/> +From these to have escap’d sufficeth not.<br/> +If well thou note me, profit by my words.” +</p> + +<p> +I straightway rose, and show’d myself less spent<br/> +Than I in truth did feel me. “On,” I cried,<br/> +“For I am stout and fearless.” Up the rock<br/> +Our way we held, more rugged than before,<br/> +Narrower and steeper far to climb. From talk<br/> +I ceas’d not, as we journey’d, so to seem<br/> +Least faint; whereat a voice from the other foss<br/> +Did issue forth, for utt’rance suited ill.<br/> +Though on the arch that crosses there I stood,<br/> +What were the words I knew not, but who spake<br/> +Seem’d mov’d in anger. Down I stoop’d to look,<br/> +But my quick eye might reach not to the depth<br/> +For shrouding darkness; wherefore thus I spake:<br/> +“To the next circle, Teacher, bend thy steps,<br/> +And from the wall dismount we; for as hence<br/> +I hear and understand not, so I see<br/> +Beneath, and naught discern.”—“I answer not,”<br/> +Said he, “but by the deed. To fair request<br/> +Silent performance maketh best return.” +</p> + +<p> +We from the bridge’s head descended, where<br/> +To the eighth mound it joins, and then the chasm<br/> +Opening to view, I saw a crowd within<br/> +Of serpents terrible, so strange of shape<br/> +And hideous, that remembrance in my veins<br/> +Yet shrinks the vital current. Of her sands<br/> +Let Lybia vaunt no more: if Jaculus,<br/> +Pareas and Chelyder be her brood,<br/> +Cenchris and Amphisboena, plagues so dire<br/> +Or in such numbers swarming ne’er she shew’d,<br/> +Not with all Ethiopia, and whate’er<br/> +Above the Erythraean sea is spawn’d. +</p> + +<p> +Amid this dread exuberance of woe<br/> +Ran naked spirits wing’d with horrid fear,<br/> +Nor hope had they of crevice where to hide,<br/> +Or heliotrope to charm them out of view.<br/> +With serpents were their hands behind them bound,<br/> +Which through their reins infix’d the tail and head<br/> +Twisted in folds before. And lo! on one<br/> +Near to our side, darted an adder up,<br/> +And, where the neck is on the shoulders tied,<br/> +Transpierc’d him. Far more quickly than e’er pen<br/> +Wrote O or I, he kindled, burn’d, and chang’d<br/> +To ashes, all pour’d out upon the earth.<br/> +When there dissolv’d he lay, the dust again<br/> +Uproll’d spontaneous, and the self-same form<br/> +Instant resumed. So mighty sages tell,<br/> +The’ Arabian Phoenix, when five hundred years<br/> +Have well nigh circled, dies, and springs forthwith<br/> +Renascent. Blade nor herb throughout his life<br/> +He tastes, but tears of frankincense alone<br/> +And odorous amomum: swaths of nard<br/> +And myrrh his funeral shroud. As one that falls,<br/> +He knows not how, by force demoniac dragg’d<br/> +To earth, or through obstruction fettering up<br/> +In chains invisible the powers of man,<br/> +Who, risen from his trance, gazeth around,<br/> +Bewilder’d with the monstrous agony<br/> +He hath endur’d, and wildly staring sighs;<br/> +So stood aghast the sinner when he rose. +</p> + +<p> +Oh! how severe God’s judgment, that deals out<br/> +Such blows in stormy vengeance! Who he was<br/> +My teacher next inquir’d, and thus in few<br/> +He answer’d: “Vanni Fucci am I call’d,<br/> +Not long since rained down from Tuscany<br/> +To this dire gullet. Me the beastial life<br/> +And not the human pleas’d, mule that I was,<br/> +Who in Pistoia found my worthy den.” +</p> + +<p> +I then to Virgil: “Bid him stir not hence,<br/> +And ask what crime did thrust him hither: once<br/> +A man I knew him choleric and bloody.” +</p> + +<p> +The sinner heard and feign’d not, but towards me<br/> +His mind directing and his face, wherein<br/> +Was dismal shame depictur’d, thus he spake:<br/> +“It grieves me more to have been caught by thee<br/> +In this sad plight, which thou beholdest, than<br/> +When I was taken from the other life.<br/> +I have no power permitted to deny<br/> +What thou inquirest. I am doom’d thus low<br/> +To dwell, for that the sacristy by me<br/> +Was rifled of its goodly ornaments,<br/> +And with the guilt another falsely charged.<br/> +But that thou mayst not joy to see me thus,<br/> +So as thou e’er shalt ’scape this darksome realm<br/> +Open thine ears and hear what I forebode.<br/> +Reft of the Neri first Pistoia pines,<br/> +Then Florence changeth citizens and laws.<br/> +From Valdimagra, drawn by wrathful Mars,<br/> +A vapour rises, wrapt in turbid mists,<br/> +And sharp and eager driveth on the storm<br/> +With arrowy hurtling o’er Piceno’s field,<br/> +Whence suddenly the cloud shall burst, and strike<br/> +Each helpless Bianco prostrate to the ground.<br/> +This have I told, that grief may rend thy heart.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXV"></a>CANTO XXV</h2> + +<p> +When he had spoke, the sinner rais’d his hands<br/> +Pointed in mockery, and cried: “Take them, God!<br/> +I level them at thee!” From that day forth<br/> +The serpents were my friends; for round his neck<br/> +One of then rolling twisted, as it said,<br/> +“Be silent, tongue!” Another to his arms<br/> +Upgliding, tied them, riveting itself<br/> +So close, it took from them the power to move. +</p> + +<p> +Pistoia! Ah Pistoia! why dost doubt<br/> +To turn thee into ashes, cumb’ring earth<br/> +No longer, since in evil act so far<br/> +Thou hast outdone thy seed? I did not mark,<br/> +Through all the gloomy circles of the’ abyss,<br/> +Spirit, that swell’d so proudly ’gainst his God,<br/> +Not him, who headlong fell from Thebes. He fled,<br/> +Nor utter’d more; and after him there came<br/> +A centaur full of fury, shouting, “Where<br/> +Where is the caitiff?” On Maremma’s marsh<br/> +Swarm not the serpent tribe, as on his haunch<br/> +They swarm’d, to where the human face begins.<br/> +Behind his head upon the shoulders lay,<br/> +With open wings, a dragon breathing fire<br/> +On whomsoe’er he met. To me my guide:<br/> +“Cacus is this, who underneath the rock<br/> +Of Aventine spread oft a lake of blood.<br/> +He, from his brethren parted, here must tread<br/> +A different journey, for his fraudful theft<br/> +Of the great herd, that near him stall’d; whence found<br/> +His felon deeds their end, beneath the mace<br/> +Of stout Alcides, that perchance laid on<br/> +A hundred blows, and not the tenth was felt.” +</p> + +<p> +While yet he spake, the centaur sped away:<br/> +And under us three spirits came, of whom<br/> +Nor I nor he was ware, till they exclaim’d;<br/> +“Say who are ye?” We then brake off discourse,<br/> +Intent on these alone. I knew them not;<br/> +But, as it chanceth oft, befell, that one<br/> +Had need to name another. “Where,” said he,<br/> +“Doth Cianfa lurk?” I, for a sign my guide<br/> +Should stand attentive, plac’d against my lips<br/> +The finger lifted. If, O reader! now<br/> +Thou be not apt to credit what I tell,<br/> +No marvel; for myself do scarce allow<br/> +The witness of mine eyes. But as I looked<br/> +Toward them, lo! a serpent with six feet<br/> +Springs forth on one, and fastens full upon him:<br/> +His midmost grasp’d the belly, a forefoot<br/> +Seiz’d on each arm (while deep in either cheek<br/> +He flesh’d his fangs); the hinder on the thighs<br/> +Were spread, ’twixt which the tail inserted curl’d<br/> +Upon the reins behind. Ivy ne’er clasp’d<br/> +A dodder’d oak, as round the other’s limbs<br/> +The hideous monster intertwin’d his own.<br/> +Then, as they both had been of burning wax,<br/> +Each melted into other, mingling hues,<br/> +That which was either now was seen no more.<br/> +Thus up the shrinking paper, ere it burns,<br/> +A brown tint glides, not turning yet to black,<br/> +And the clean white expires. The other two<br/> +Look’d on exclaiming: “Ah, how dost thou change,<br/> +Agnello! See! Thou art nor double now, +</p> + +<p> +“Nor only one.” The two heads now became<br/> +One, and two figures blended in one form<br/> +Appear’d, where both were lost. Of the four lengths<br/> +Two arms were made: the belly and the chest<br/> +The thighs and legs into such members chang’d,<br/> +As never eye hath seen. Of former shape<br/> +All trace was vanish’d. Two yet neither seem’d<br/> +That image miscreate, and so pass’d on<br/> +With tardy steps. As underneath the scourge<br/> +Of the fierce dog-star, that lays bare the fields,<br/> +Shifting from brake to brake, the lizard seems<br/> +A flash of lightning, if he thwart the road,<br/> +So toward th’ entrails of the other two<br/> +Approaching seem’d, an adder all on fire,<br/> +As the dark pepper-grain, livid and swart.<br/> +In that part, whence our life is nourish’d first,<br/> +One he transpierc’d; then down before him fell<br/> +Stretch’d out. The pierced spirit look’d on him<br/> +But spake not; yea stood motionless and yawn’d,<br/> +As if by sleep or fev’rous fit assail’d.<br/> +He ey’d the serpent, and the serpent him.<br/> +One from the wound, the other from the mouth<br/> +Breath’d a thick smoke, whose vap’ry columns join’d. +</p> + +<p> +Lucan in mute attention now may hear,<br/> +Nor thy disastrous fate, Sabellus! tell,<br/> +Nor shine, Nasidius! Ovid now be mute.<br/> +What if in warbling fiction he record<br/> +Cadmus and Arethusa, to a snake<br/> +Him chang’d, and her into a fountain clear,<br/> +I envy not; for never face to face<br/> +Two natures thus transmuted did he sing,<br/> +Wherein both shapes were ready to assume<br/> +The other’s substance. They in mutual guise<br/> +So answer’d, that the serpent split his train<br/> +Divided to a fork, and the pierc’d spirit<br/> +Drew close his steps together, legs and thighs<br/> +Compacted, that no sign of juncture soon<br/> +Was visible: the tail disparted took<br/> +The figure which the spirit lost, its skin<br/> +Soft’ning, his indurated to a rind.<br/> +The shoulders next I mark’d, that ent’ring join’d<br/> +The monster’s arm-pits, whose two shorter feet<br/> +So lengthen’d, as the other’s dwindling shrunk.<br/> +The feet behind then twisting up became<br/> +That part that man conceals, which in the wretch<br/> +Was cleft in twain. While both the shadowy smoke<br/> +With a new colour veils, and generates<br/> +Th’ excrescent pile on one, peeling it off<br/> +From th’ other body, lo! upon his feet<br/> +One upright rose, and prone the other fell.<br/> +Not yet their glaring and malignant lamps<br/> +Were shifted, though each feature chang’d beneath.<br/> +Of him who stood erect, the mounting face<br/> +Retreated towards the temples, and what there<br/> +Superfluous matter came, shot out in ears<br/> +From the smooth cheeks, the rest, not backward dragg’d,<br/> +Of its excess did shape the nose; and swell’d<br/> +Into due size protuberant the lips.<br/> +He, on the earth who lay, meanwhile extends<br/> +His sharpen’d visage, and draws down the ears<br/> +Into the head, as doth the slug his horns.<br/> +His tongue continuous before and apt<br/> +For utt’rance, severs; and the other’s fork<br/> +Closing unites. That done the smoke was laid.<br/> +The soul, transform’d into the brute, glides off,<br/> +Hissing along the vale, and after him<br/> +The other talking sputters; but soon turn’d<br/> +His new-grown shoulders on him, and in few<br/> +Thus to another spake: “Along this path<br/> +Crawling, as I have done, speed Buoso now!” +</p> + +<p> +So saw I fluctuate in successive change<br/> +Th’ unsteady ballast of the seventh hold:<br/> +And here if aught my tongue have swerv’d, events<br/> +So strange may be its warrant. O’er mine eyes<br/> +Confusion hung, and on my thoughts amaze. +</p> + +<p> +Yet ’scap’d they not so covertly, but well<br/> +I mark’d Sciancato: he alone it was<br/> +Of the three first that came, who chang’d not: thou,<br/> +The other’s fate, Gaville, still dost rue. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXVI"></a>CANTO XXVI</h2> + +<p> +Florence exult! for thou so mightily<br/> +Hast thriven, that o’er land and sea thy wings<br/> +Thou beatest, and thy name spreads over hell!<br/> +Among the plund’rers such the three I found<br/> +Thy citizens, whence shame to me thy son,<br/> +And no proud honour to thyself redounds. +</p> + +<p> +But if our minds, when dreaming near the dawn,<br/> +Are of the truth presageful, thou ere long<br/> +Shalt feel what Prato, (not to say the rest)<br/> +Would fain might come upon thee; and that chance<br/> +Were in good time, if it befell thee now.<br/> +Would so it were, since it must needs befall!<br/> +For as time wears me, I shall grieve the more. +</p> + +<p> +We from the depth departed; and my guide<br/> +Remounting scal’d the flinty steps, which late<br/> +We downward trac’d, and drew me up the steep.<br/> +Pursuing thus our solitary way<br/> +Among the crags and splinters of the rock,<br/> +Sped not our feet without the help of hands. +</p> + +<p> +Then sorrow seiz’d me, which e’en now revives,<br/> +As my thought turns again to what I saw,<br/> +And, more than I am wont, I rein and curb<br/> +The powers of nature in me, lest they run<br/> +Where Virtue guides not; that if aught of good<br/> +My gentle star, or something better gave me,<br/> +I envy not myself the precious boon. +</p> + +<p> +As in that season, when the sun least veils<br/> +His face that lightens all, what time the fly<br/> +Gives way to the shrill gnat, the peasant then<br/> +Upon some cliff reclin’d, beneath him sees<br/> +Fire-flies innumerous spangling o’er the vale,<br/> +Vineyard or tilth, where his day-labour lies:<br/> +With flames so numberless throughout its space<br/> +Shone the eighth chasm, apparent, when the depth<br/> +Was to my view expos’d. As he, whose wrongs<br/> +The bears aveng’d, at its departure saw<br/> +Elijah’s chariot, when the steeds erect<br/> +Rais’d their steep flight for heav’n; his eyes meanwhile,<br/> +Straining pursu’d them, till the flame alone<br/> +Upsoaring like a misty speck he kenn’d;<br/> +E’en thus along the gulf moves every flame,<br/> +A sinner so enfolded close in each,<br/> +That none exhibits token of the theft. +</p> + +<p> +Upon the bridge I forward bent to look,<br/> +And grasp’d a flinty mass, or else had fall’n,<br/> +Though push’d not from the height. The guide, who mark’d<br/> +How I did gaze attentive, thus began: +</p> + +<p> +“Within these ardours are the spirits, each<br/> +Swath’d in confining fire.”—“Master, thy word,”<br/> +I answer’d, “hath assur’d me; yet I deem’d<br/> +Already of the truth, already wish’d<br/> +To ask thee, who is in yon fire, that comes<br/> +So parted at the summit, as it seem’d<br/> +Ascending from that funeral pile, where lay<br/> +The Theban brothers?” He replied: “Within<br/> +Ulysses there and Diomede endure<br/> +Their penal tortures, thus to vengeance now<br/> +Together hasting, as erewhile to wrath.<br/> +These in the flame with ceaseless groans deplore<br/> +The ambush of the horse, that open’d wide<br/> +A portal for that goodly seed to pass,<br/> +Which sow’d imperial Rome; nor less the guile<br/> +Lament they, whence of her Achilles ’reft<br/> +Deidamia yet in death complains.<br/> +And there is rued the stratagem, that Troy<br/> +Of her Palladium spoil’d.”—“If they have power<br/> +Of utt’rance from within these sparks,” said I,<br/> +“O master! think my prayer a thousand fold<br/> +In repetition urg’d, that thou vouchsafe<br/> +To pause, till here the horned flame arrive.<br/> +See, how toward it with desire I bend.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus: “Thy prayer is worthy of much praise,<br/> +And I accept it therefore: but do thou<br/> +Thy tongue refrain: to question them be mine,<br/> +For I divine thy wish: and they perchance,<br/> +For they were Greeks, might shun discourse with thee.” +</p> + +<p> +When there the flame had come, where time and place<br/> +Seem’d fitting to my guide, he thus began:<br/> +“O ye, who dwell two spirits in one fire!<br/> +If living I of you did merit aught,<br/> +Whate’er the measure were of that desert,<br/> +When in the world my lofty strain I pour’d,<br/> +Move ye not on, till one of you unfold<br/> +In what clime death o’ertook him self-destroy’d.” +</p> + +<p> +Of the old flame forthwith the greater horn<br/> +Began to roll, murmuring, as a fire<br/> +That labours with the wind, then to and fro<br/> +Wagging the top, as a tongue uttering sounds,<br/> +Threw out its voice, and spake: “When I escap’d<br/> +From Circe, who beyond a circling year<br/> +Had held me near Caieta, by her charms,<br/> +Ere thus Aeneas yet had nam’d the shore,<br/> +Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence<br/> +Of my old father, nor return of love,<br/> +That should have crown’d Penelope with joy,<br/> +Could overcome in me the zeal I had<br/> +T’ explore the world, and search the ways of life,<br/> +Man’s evil and his virtue. Forth I sail’d<br/> +Into the deep illimitable main,<br/> +With but one bark, and the small faithful band<br/> +That yet cleav’d to me. As Iberia far,<br/> +Far as Morocco either shore I saw,<br/> +And the Sardinian and each isle beside<br/> +Which round that ocean bathes. Tardy with age<br/> +Were I and my companions, when we came<br/> +To the strait pass, where Hercules ordain’d<br/> +The bound’ries not to be o’erstepp’d by man.<br/> +The walls of Seville to my right I left,<br/> +On the’ other hand already Ceuta past. +</p> + +<p> +“O brothers!” I began, “who to the west<br/> +Through perils without number now have reach’d,<br/> +To this the short remaining watch, that yet<br/> +Our senses have to wake, refuse not proof<br/> +Of the unpeopled world, following the track<br/> +Of Phoebus. Call to mind from whence we sprang:<br/> +Ye were not form’d to live the life of brutes<br/> +But virtue to pursue and knowledge high.<br/> +With these few words I sharpen’d for the voyage<br/> +The mind of my associates, that I then<br/> +Could scarcely have withheld them. To the dawn<br/> +Our poop we turn’d, and for the witless flight<br/> +Made our oars wings, still gaining on the left.<br/> +Each star of the’ other pole night now beheld,<br/> +And ours so low, that from the ocean-floor<br/> +It rose not. Five times re-illum’d, as oft<br/> +Vanish’d the light from underneath the moon<br/> +Since the deep way we enter’d, when from far<br/> +Appear’d a mountain dim, loftiest methought<br/> +Of all I e’er beheld. Joy seiz’d us straight,<br/> +But soon to mourning changed. From the new land<br/> +A whirlwind sprung, and at her foremost side<br/> +Did strike the vessel. Thrice it whirl’d her round<br/> +With all the waves, the fourth time lifted up<br/> +The poop, and sank the prow: so fate decreed:<br/> +And over us the booming billow clos’d.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXVII"></a>CANTO XVII</h2> + +<p> +Now upward rose the flame, and still’d its light<br/> +To speak no more, and now pass’d on with leave<br/> +From the mild poet gain’d, when following came<br/> +Another, from whose top a sound confus’d,<br/> +Forth issuing, drew our eyes that way to look. +</p> + +<p> +As the Sicilian bull, that rightfully<br/> +His cries first echoed, who had shap’d its mould,<br/> +Did so rebellow, with the voice of him<br/> +Tormented, that the brazen monster seem’d<br/> +Pierc’d through with pain; thus while no way they found<br/> +Nor avenue immediate through the flame,<br/> +Into its language turn’d the dismal words:<br/> +But soon as they had won their passage forth,<br/> +Up from the point, which vibrating obey’d<br/> +Their motion at the tongue, these sounds we heard:<br/> +“O thou! to whom I now direct my voice!<br/> +That lately didst exclaim in Lombard phrase, +</p> + +<p> +“Depart thou, I solicit thee no more,<br/> +Though somewhat tardy I perchance arrive<br/> +Let it not irk thee here to pause awhile,<br/> +And with me parley: lo! it irks not me<br/> +And yet I burn. If but e’en now thou fall<br/> +into this blind world, from that pleasant land<br/> +Of Latium, whence I draw my sum of guilt,<br/> +Tell me if those, who in Romagna dwell,<br/> +Have peace or war. For of the mountains there<br/> +Was I, betwixt Urbino and the height,<br/> +Whence Tyber first unlocks his mighty flood.” +</p> + +<p> +Leaning I listen’d yet with heedful ear,<br/> +When, as he touch’d my side, the leader thus:<br/> +“Speak thou: he is a Latian.” My reply<br/> +Was ready, and I spake without delay: +</p> + +<p> +“O spirit! who art hidden here below!<br/> +Never was thy Romagna without war<br/> +In her proud tyrants’ bosoms, nor is now:<br/> +But open war there left I none. The state,<br/> +Ravenna hath maintain’d this many a year,<br/> +Is steadfast. There Polenta’s eagle broods,<br/> +And in his broad circumference of plume<br/> +O’ershadows Cervia. The green talons grasp<br/> +The land, that stood erewhile the proof so long,<br/> +And pil’d in bloody heap the host of France. +</p> + +<p> +“The’ old mastiff of Verruchio and the young,<br/> +That tore Montagna in their wrath, still make,<br/> +Where they are wont, an augre of their fangs. +</p> + +<p> +“Lamone’s city and Santerno’s range<br/> +Under the lion of the snowy lair.<br/> +Inconstant partisan! that changeth sides,<br/> +Or ever summer yields to winter’s frost.<br/> +And she, whose flank is wash’d of Savio’s wave,<br/> +As ’twixt the level and the steep she lies,<br/> +Lives so ’twixt tyrant power and liberty. +</p> + +<p> +“Now tell us, I entreat thee, who art thou?<br/> +Be not more hard than others. In the world,<br/> +So may thy name still rear its forehead high.” +</p> + +<p> +Then roar’d awhile the fire, its sharpen’d point<br/> +On either side wav’d, and thus breath’d at last:<br/> +“If I did think, my answer were to one,<br/> +Who ever could return unto the world,<br/> +This flame should rest unshaken. But since ne’er,<br/> +If true be told me, any from this depth<br/> +Has found his upward way, I answer thee,<br/> +Nor fear lest infamy record the words. +</p> + +<p> +“A man of arms at first, I cloth’d me then<br/> +In good Saint Francis’ girdle, hoping so<br/> +T’ have made amends. And certainly my hope<br/> +Had fail’d not, but that he, whom curses light on,<br/> +The’ high priest again seduc’d me into sin.<br/> +And how and wherefore listen while I tell.<br/> +Long as this spirit mov’d the bones and pulp<br/> +My mother gave me, less my deeds bespake<br/> +The nature of the lion than the fox.<br/> +All ways of winding subtlety I knew,<br/> +And with such art conducted, that the sound<br/> +Reach’d the world’s limit. Soon as to that part<br/> +Of life I found me come, when each behoves<br/> +To lower sails and gather in the lines;<br/> +That which before had pleased me then I rued,<br/> +And to repentance and confession turn’d;<br/> +Wretch that I was! and well it had bested me!<br/> +The chief of the new Pharisees meantime,<br/> +Waging his warfare near the Lateran,<br/> +Not with the Saracens or Jews (his foes<br/> +All Christians were, nor against Acre one<br/> +Had fought, nor traffic’d in the Soldan’s land),<br/> +He his great charge nor sacred ministry<br/> +In himself, rev’renc’d, nor in me that cord,<br/> +Which us’d to mark with leanness whom it girded.<br/> +As in Socrate, Constantine besought<br/> +To cure his leprosy Sylvester’s aid,<br/> +So me to cure the fever of his pride<br/> +This man besought: my counsel to that end<br/> +He ask’d: and I was silent: for his words<br/> +Seem’d drunken: but forthwith he thus resum’d:<br/> +‘From thy heart banish fear: of all offence<br/> +I hitherto absolve thee. In return,<br/> +Teach me my purpose so to execute,<br/> +That Penestrino cumber earth no more.<br/> +Heav’n, as thou knowest, I have power to shut<br/> +And open: and the keys are therefore twain,<br/> +The which my predecessor meanly priz’d.’” +</p> + +<p> +Then, yielding to the forceful arguments,<br/> +Of silence as more perilous I deem’d,<br/> +And answer’d: “Father! since thou washest me<br/> +Clear of that guilt wherein I now must fall,<br/> +Large promise with performance scant, be sure,<br/> +Shall make thee triumph in thy lofty seat.” +</p> + +<p> +“When I was number’d with the dead, then came<br/> +Saint Francis for me; but a cherub dark<br/> +He met, who cried: ‘Wrong me not; he is mine,<br/> +And must below to join the wretched crew,<br/> +For the deceitful counsel which he gave.<br/> +E’er since I watch’d him, hov’ring at his hair,<br/> +No power can the impenitent absolve;<br/> +Nor to repent and will at once consist,<br/> +By contradiction absolute forbid.’”<br/> +Oh mis’ry! how I shook myself, when he<br/> +Seiz’d me, and cried, “Thou haply thought’st me not<br/> +A disputant in logic so exact.”<br/> +To Minos down he bore me, and the judge<br/> +Twin’d eight times round his callous back the tail,<br/> +Which biting with excess of rage, he spake:<br/> +“This is a guilty soul, that in the fire<br/> +Must vanish. Hence perdition-doom’d I rove<br/> +A prey to rankling sorrow in this garb.” +</p> + +<p> +When he had thus fulfill’d his words, the flame<br/> +In dolour parted, beating to and fro,<br/> +And writhing its sharp horn. We onward went,<br/> +I and my leader, up along the rock,<br/> +Far as another arch, that overhangs<br/> +The foss, wherein the penalty is paid<br/> +Of those, who load them with committed sin. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXVIII"></a>CANTO XXVIII</h2> + +<p> +Who, e’en in words unfetter’d, might at full<br/> +Tell of the wounds and blood that now I saw,<br/> +Though he repeated oft the tale? No tongue<br/> +So vast a theme could equal, speech and thought<br/> +Both impotent alike. If in one band<br/> +Collected, stood the people all, who e’er<br/> +Pour’d on Apulia’s happy soil their blood,<br/> +Slain by the Trojans, and in that long war<br/> +When of the rings the measur’d booty made<br/> +A pile so high, as Rome’s historian writes<br/> +Who errs not, with the multitude, that felt<br/> +The grinding force of Guiscard’s Norman steel,<br/> +And those the rest, whose bones are gather’d yet<br/> +At Ceperano, there where treachery<br/> +Branded th’ Apulian name, or where beyond<br/> +Thy walls, O Tagliacozzo, without arms<br/> +The old Alardo conquer’d; and his limbs<br/> +One were to show transpierc’d, another his<br/> +Clean lopt away; a spectacle like this<br/> +Were but a thing of nought, to the’ hideous sight<br/> +Of the ninth chasm. A rundlet, that hath lost<br/> +Its middle or side stave, gapes not so wide,<br/> +As one I mark’d, torn from the chin throughout<br/> +Down to the hinder passage: ’twixt the legs<br/> +Dangling his entrails hung, the midriff lay<br/> +Open to view, and wretched ventricle,<br/> +That turns th’ englutted aliment to dross. +</p> + +<p> +Whilst eagerly I fix on him my gaze,<br/> +He ey’d me, with his hands laid his breast bare,<br/> +And cried; “Now mark how I do rip me! lo! +</p> + +<p> +“How is Mohammed mangled! before me<br/> +Walks Ali weeping, from the chin his face<br/> +Cleft to the forelock; and the others all<br/> +Whom here thou seest, while they liv’d, did sow<br/> +Scandal and schism, and therefore thus are rent.<br/> +A fiend is here behind, who with his sword<br/> +Hacks us thus cruelly, slivering again<br/> +Each of this ream, when we have compast round<br/> +The dismal way, for first our gashes close<br/> +Ere we repass before him. But say who<br/> +Art thou, that standest musing on the rock,<br/> +Haply so lingering to delay the pain<br/> +Sentenc’d upon thy crimes?”—“Him death not yet,”<br/> +My guide rejoin’d, “hath overta’en, nor sin<br/> +Conducts to torment; but, that he may make<br/> +Full trial of your state, I who am dead<br/> +Must through the depths of hell, from orb to orb,<br/> +Conduct him. Trust my words, for they are true.” +</p> + +<p> +More than a hundred spirits, when that they heard,<br/> +Stood in the foss to mark me, through amazed,<br/> +Forgetful of their pangs. “Thou, who perchance<br/> +Shalt shortly view the sun, this warning thou<br/> +Bear to Dolcino: bid him, if he wish not<br/> +Here soon to follow me, that with good store<br/> +Of food he arm him, lest impris’ning snows<br/> +Yield him a victim to Novara’s power,<br/> +No easy conquest else.” With foot uprais’d<br/> +For stepping, spake Mohammed, on the ground<br/> +Then fix’d it to depart. Another shade,<br/> +Pierc’d in the throat, his nostrils mutilate<br/> +E’en from beneath the eyebrows, and one ear<br/> +Lopt off, who with the rest through wonder stood<br/> +Gazing, before the rest advanc’d, and bar’d<br/> +His wind-pipe, that without was all o’ersmear’d<br/> +With crimson stain. “O thou!” said he, “whom sin<br/> +Condemns not, and whom erst (unless too near<br/> +Resemblance do deceive me) I aloft<br/> +Have seen on Latian ground, call thou to mind<br/> +Piero of Medicina, if again<br/> +Returning, thou behold’st the pleasant land<br/> +That from Vercelli slopes to Mercabo; +</p> + +<p> +“And there instruct the twain, whom Fano boasts<br/> +Her worthiest sons, Guido and Angelo,<br/> +That if ’t is giv’n us here to scan aright<br/> +The future, they out of life’s tenement<br/> +Shall be cast forth, and whelm’d under the waves<br/> +Near to Cattolica, through perfidy<br/> +Of a fell tyrant. ’Twixt the Cyprian isle<br/> +And Balearic, ne’er hath Neptune seen<br/> +An injury so foul, by pirates done<br/> +Or Argive crew of old. That one-ey’d traitor<br/> +(Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain<br/> +His eye had still lack’d sight of) them shall bring<br/> +To conf’rence with him, then so shape his end,<br/> +That they shall need not ’gainst Focara’s wind<br/> +Offer up vow nor pray’r.” I answering thus: +</p> + +<p> +“Declare, as thou dost wish that I above<br/> +May carry tidings of thee, who is he,<br/> +In whom that sight doth wake such sad remembrance?” +</p> + +<p> +Forthwith he laid his hand on the cheek-bone<br/> +Of one, his fellow-spirit, and his jaws<br/> +Expanding, cried: “Lo! this is he I wot of;<br/> +He speaks not for himself: the outcast this<br/> +Who overwhelm’d the doubt in Caesar’s mind,<br/> +Affirming that delay to men prepar’d<br/> +Was ever harmful.” Oh how terrified<br/> +Methought was Curio, from whose throat was cut<br/> +The tongue, which spake that hardy word. Then one<br/> +Maim’d of each hand, uplifted in the gloom<br/> +The bleeding stumps, that they with gory spots<br/> +Sullied his face, and cried: “‘Remember thee<br/> +Of Mosca, too, I who, alas! exclaim’d,<br/> +‘The deed once done there is an end,’ that prov’d<br/> +A seed of sorrow to the Tuscan race.” +</p> + +<p> +I added: “Ay, and death to thine own tribe.” +</p> + +<p> +Whence heaping woe on woe he hurried off,<br/> +As one grief stung to madness. But I there<br/> +Still linger’d to behold the troop, and saw<br/> +Things, such as I may fear without more proof<br/> +To tell of, but that conscience makes me firm,<br/> +The boon companion, who her strong breast-plate<br/> +Buckles on him, that feels no guilt within<br/> +And bids him on and fear not. Without doubt<br/> +I saw, and yet it seems to pass before me,<br/> +A headless trunk, that even as the rest<br/> +Of the sad flock pac’d onward. By the hair<br/> +It bore the sever’d member, lantern-wise<br/> +Pendent in hand, which look’d at us and said, +</p> + +<p> +“Woe’s me!” The spirit lighted thus himself,<br/> +And two there were in one, and one in two.<br/> +How that may be he knows who ordereth so. +</p> + +<p> +When at the bridge’s foot direct he stood,<br/> +His arm aloft he rear’d, thrusting the head<br/> +Full in our view, that nearer we might hear<br/> +The words, which thus it utter’d: “Now behold<br/> +This grievous torment, thou, who breathing go’st<br/> +To spy the dead; behold if any else<br/> +Be terrible as this. And that on earth<br/> +Thou mayst bear tidings of me, know that I<br/> +Am Bertrand, he of Born, who gave King John<br/> +The counsel mischievous. Father and son<br/> +I set at mutual war. For Absalom<br/> +And David more did not Ahitophel,<br/> +Spurring them on maliciously to strife.<br/> +For parting those so closely knit, my brain<br/> +Parted, alas! I carry from its source,<br/> +That in this trunk inhabits. Thus the law<br/> +Of retribution fiercely works in me.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXIX"></a>CANTO XXIX</h2> + +<p> +So were mine eyes inebriate with view<br/> +Of the vast multitude, whom various wounds<br/> +Disfigur’d, that they long’d to stay and weep. +</p> + +<p> +But Virgil rous’d me: “What yet gazest on?<br/> +Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight below<br/> +Among the maim’d and miserable shades?<br/> +Thou hast not shewn in any chasm beside<br/> +This weakness. Know, if thou wouldst number them<br/> +That two and twenty miles the valley winds<br/> +Its circuit, and already is the moon<br/> +Beneath our feet: the time permitted now<br/> +Is short, and more not seen remains to see.” +</p> + +<p> +“If thou,” I straight replied, “hadst weigh’d the cause<br/> +For which I look’d, thou hadst perchance excus’d<br/> +The tarrying still.” My leader part pursu’d<br/> +His way, the while I follow’d, answering him,<br/> +And adding thus: “Within that cave I deem,<br/> +Whereon so fixedly I held my ken,<br/> +There is a spirit dwells, one of my blood,<br/> +Wailing the crime that costs him now so dear.” +</p> + +<p> +Then spake my master: “Let thy soul no more<br/> +Afflict itself for him. Direct elsewhere<br/> +Its thought, and leave him. At the bridge’s foot<br/> +I mark’d how he did point with menacing look<br/> +At thee, and heard him by the others nam’d<br/> +Geri of Bello. Thou so wholly then<br/> +Wert busied with his spirit, who once rul’d<br/> +The towers of Hautefort, that thou lookedst not<br/> +That way, ere he was gone.”—“O guide belov’d!<br/> +His violent death yet unaveng’d,” said I,<br/> +“By any, who are partners in his shame,<br/> +Made him contemptuous: therefore, as I think,<br/> +He pass’d me speechless by; and doing so<br/> +Hath made me more compassionate his fate.” +</p> + +<p> +So we discours’d to where the rock first show’d<br/> +The other valley, had more light been there,<br/> +E’en to the lowest depth. Soon as we came<br/> +O’er the last cloister in the dismal rounds<br/> +Of Malebolge, and the brotherhood<br/> +Were to our view expos’d, then many a dart<br/> +Of sore lament assail’d me, headed all<br/> +With points of thrilling pity, that I clos’d<br/> +Both ears against the volley with mine hands. +</p> + +<p> +As were the torment, if each lazar-house<br/> +Of Valdichiana, in the sultry time<br/> +’Twixt July and September, with the isle<br/> +Sardinia and Maremma’s pestilent fen,<br/> +Had heap’d their maladies all in one foss<br/> +Together; such was here the torment: dire<br/> +The stench, as issuing steams from fester’d limbs. +</p> + +<p> +We on the utmost shore of the long rock<br/> +Descended still to leftward. Then my sight<br/> +Was livelier to explore the depth, wherein<br/> +The minister of the most mighty Lord,<br/> +All-searching Justice, dooms to punishment<br/> +The forgers noted on her dread record. +</p> + +<p> +More rueful was it not methinks to see<br/> +The nation in Aegina droop, what time<br/> +Each living thing, e’en to the little worm,<br/> +All fell, so full of malice was the air<br/> +(And afterward, as bards of yore have told,<br/> +The ancient people were restor’d anew<br/> +From seed of emmets) than was here to see<br/> +The spirits, that languish’d through the murky vale<br/> +Up-pil’d on many a stack. Confus’d they lay,<br/> +One o’er the belly, o’er the shoulders one<br/> +Roll’d of another; sideling crawl’d a third<br/> +Along the dismal pathway. Step by step<br/> +We journey’d on, in silence looking round<br/> +And list’ning those diseas’d, who strove in vain<br/> +To lift their forms. Then two I mark’d, that sat<br/> +Propp’d ’gainst each other, as two brazen pans<br/> +Set to retain the heat. From head to foot,<br/> +A tetter bark’d them round. Nor saw I e’er<br/> +Groom currying so fast, for whom his lord<br/> +Impatient waited, or himself perchance<br/> +Tir’d with long watching, as of these each one<br/> +Plied quickly his keen nails, through furiousness<br/> +Of ne’er abated pruriency. The crust<br/> +Came drawn from underneath in flakes, like scales<br/> +Scrap’d from the bream or fish of broader mail. +</p> + +<p> +“O thou, who with thy fingers rendest off<br/> +Thy coat of proof,” thus spake my guide to one,<br/> +“And sometimes makest tearing pincers of them,<br/> +Tell me if any born of Latian land<br/> +Be among these within: so may thy nails<br/> +Serve thee for everlasting to this toil.” +</p> + +<p> +“Both are of Latium,” weeping he replied,<br/> +“Whom tortur’d thus thou seest: but who art thou<br/> +That hast inquir’d of us?” To whom my guide:<br/> +“One that descend with this man, who yet lives,<br/> +From rock to rock, and show him hell’s abyss.” +</p> + +<p> +Then started they asunder, and each turn’d<br/> +Trembling toward us, with the rest, whose ear<br/> +Those words redounding struck. To me my liege<br/> +Address’d him: “Speak to them whate’er thou list.” +</p> + +<p> +And I therewith began: “So may no time<br/> +Filch your remembrance from the thoughts of men<br/> +In th’ upper world, but after many suns<br/> +Survive it, as ye tell me, who ye are,<br/> +And of what race ye come. Your punishment,<br/> +Unseemly and disgustful in its kind,<br/> +Deter you not from opening thus much to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Arezzo was my dwelling,” answer’d one,<br/> +“And me Albero of Sienna brought<br/> +To die by fire; but that, for which I died,<br/> +Leads me not here. True is in sport I told him,<br/> +That I had learn’d to wing my flight in air.<br/> +And he admiring much, as he was void<br/> +Of wisdom, will’d me to declare to him<br/> +The secret of mine art: and only hence,<br/> +Because I made him not a Daedalus,<br/> +Prevail’d on one suppos’d his sire to burn me.<br/> +But Minos to this chasm last of the ten,<br/> +For that I practis’d alchemy on earth,<br/> +Has doom’d me. Him no subterfuge eludes.” +</p> + +<p> +Then to the bard I spake: “Was ever race<br/> +Light as Sienna’s? Sure not France herself<br/> +Can show a tribe so frivolous and vain.” +</p> + +<p> +The other leprous spirit heard my words,<br/> +And thus return’d: “Be Stricca from this charge<br/> +Exempted, he who knew so temp’rately<br/> +To lay out fortune’s gifts; and Niccolo<br/> +Who first the spice’s costly luxury<br/> +Discover’d in that garden, where such seed<br/> +Roots deepest in the soil: and be that troop<br/> +Exempted, with whom Caccia of Asciano<br/> +Lavish’d his vineyards and wide-spreading woods,<br/> +And his rare wisdom Abbagliato show’d<br/> +A spectacle for all. That thou mayst know<br/> +Who seconds thee against the Siennese<br/> +Thus gladly, bend this way thy sharpen’d sight,<br/> +That well my face may answer to thy ken;<br/> +So shalt thou see I am Capocchio’s ghost,<br/> +Who forg’d transmuted metals by the power<br/> +Of alchemy; and if I scan thee right,<br/> +Thus needs must well remember how I aped<br/> +Creative nature by my subtle art.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXX"></a>CANTO XXX</h2> + +<p> +What time resentment burn’d in Juno’s breast<br/> +For Semele against the Theban blood,<br/> +As more than once in dire mischance was rued,<br/> +Such fatal frenzy seiz’d on Athamas,<br/> +That he his spouse beholding with a babe<br/> +Laden on either arm, “Spread out,” he cried,<br/> +“The meshes, that I take the lioness<br/> +And the young lions at the pass:” then forth<br/> +Stretch’d he his merciless talons, grasping one,<br/> +One helpless innocent, Learchus nam’d,<br/> +Whom swinging down he dash’d upon a rock,<br/> +And with her other burden self-destroy’d<br/> +The hapless mother plung’d: and when the pride<br/> +Of all-presuming Troy fell from its height,<br/> +By fortune overwhelm’d, and the old king<br/> +With his realm perish’d, then did Hecuba,<br/> +A wretch forlorn and captive, when she saw<br/> +Polyxena first slaughter’d, and her son,<br/> +Her Polydorus, on the wild sea-beach<br/> +Next met the mourner’s view, then reft of sense<br/> +Did she run barking even as a dog;<br/> +Such mighty power had grief to wrench her soul.<br/> +Bet ne’er the Furies or of Thebes or Troy<br/> +With such fell cruelty were seen, their goads<br/> +Infixing in the limbs of man or beast,<br/> +As now two pale and naked ghost I saw<br/> +That gnarling wildly scamper’d, like the swine<br/> +Excluded from his stye. One reach’d Capocchio,<br/> +And in the neck-joint sticking deep his fangs,<br/> +Dragg’d him, that o’er the solid pavement rubb’d<br/> +His belly stretch’d out prone. The other shape,<br/> +He of Arezzo, there left trembling, spake;<br/> +“That sprite of air is Schicchi; in like mood<br/> +Of random mischief vent he still his spite.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom I answ’ring: “Oh! as thou dost hope,<br/> +The other may not flesh its jaws on thee,<br/> +Be patient to inform us, who it is,<br/> +Ere it speed hence.”—“That is the ancient soul<br/> +Of wretched Myrrha,” he replied, “who burn’d<br/> +With most unholy flame for her own sire, +</p> + +<p> +“And a false shape assuming, so perform’d<br/> +The deed of sin; e’en as the other there,<br/> +That onward passes, dar’d to counterfeit<br/> +Donati’s features, to feign’d testament<br/> +The seal affixing, that himself might gain,<br/> +For his own share, the lady of the herd.” +</p> + +<p> +When vanish’d the two furious shades, on whom<br/> +Mine eye was held, I turn’d it back to view<br/> +The other cursed spirits. One I saw<br/> +In fashion like a lute, had but the groin<br/> +Been sever’d, where it meets the forked part.<br/> +Swoln dropsy, disproportioning the limbs<br/> +With ill-converted moisture, that the paunch<br/> +Suits not the visage, open’d wide his lips<br/> +Gasping as in the hectic man for drought,<br/> +One towards the chin, the other upward curl’d. +</p> + +<p> +“O ye, who in this world of misery,<br/> +Wherefore I know not, are exempt from pain,”<br/> +Thus he began, “attentively regard<br/> +Adamo’s woe. When living, full supply<br/> +Ne’er lack’d me of what most I coveted;<br/> +One drop of water now, alas! I crave.<br/> +The rills, that glitter down the grassy slopes<br/> +Of Casentino, making fresh and soft<br/> +The banks whereby they glide to Arno’s stream,<br/> +Stand ever in my view; and not in vain;<br/> +For more the pictur’d semblance dries me up,<br/> +Much more than the disease, which makes the flesh<br/> +Desert these shrivel’d cheeks. So from the place,<br/> +Where I transgress’d, stern justice urging me,<br/> +Takes means to quicken more my lab’ring sighs.<br/> +There is Romena, where I falsified<br/> +The metal with the Baptist’s form imprest,<br/> +For which on earth I left my body burnt.<br/> +But if I here might see the sorrowing soul<br/> +Of Guido, Alessandro, or their brother,<br/> +For Branda’s limpid spring I would not change<br/> +The welcome sight. One is e’en now within,<br/> +If truly the mad spirits tell, that round<br/> +Are wand’ring. But wherein besteads me that?<br/> +My limbs are fetter’d. Were I but so light,<br/> +That I each hundred years might move one inch,<br/> +I had set forth already on this path,<br/> +Seeking him out amidst the shapeless crew,<br/> +Although eleven miles it wind, not more<br/> +Than half of one across. They brought me down<br/> +Among this tribe; induc’d by them I stamp’d<br/> +The florens with three carats of alloy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who are that abject pair,” I next inquir’d,<br/> +“That closely bounding thee upon thy right<br/> +Lie smoking, like a band in winter steep’d<br/> +In the chill stream?”—“When to this gulf I dropt,”<br/> +He answer’d, “here I found them; since that hour<br/> +They have not turn’d, nor ever shall, I ween,<br/> +Till time hath run his course. One is that dame<br/> +The false accuser of the Hebrew youth;<br/> +Sinon the other, that false Greek from Troy.<br/> +Sharp fever drains the reeky moistness out,<br/> +In such a cloud upsteam’d.” When that he heard,<br/> +One, gall’d perchance to be so darkly nam’d,<br/> +With clench’d hand smote him on the braced paunch,<br/> +That like a drum resounded: but forthwith<br/> +Adamo smote him on the face, the blow<br/> +Returning with his arm, that seem’d as hard. +</p> + +<p> +“Though my o’erweighty limbs have ta’en from me<br/> +The power to move,” said he, “I have an arm<br/> +At liberty for such employ.” To whom<br/> +Was answer’d: “When thou wentest to the fire,<br/> +Thou hadst it not so ready at command,<br/> +Then readier when it coin’d th’ impostor gold.” +</p> + +<p> +And thus the dropsied: “Ay, now speak’st thou true.<br/> +But there thou gav’st not such true testimony,<br/> +When thou wast question’d of the truth, at Troy.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I spake false, thou falsely stamp’dst the coin,”<br/> +Said Sinon; “I am here but for one fault,<br/> +And thou for more than any imp beside.” +</p> + +<p> +“Remember,” he replied, “O perjur’d one,<br/> +The horse remember, that did teem with death,<br/> +And all the world be witness to thy guilt.” +</p> + +<p> +“To thine,” return’d the Greek, “witness the thirst<br/> +Whence thy tongue cracks, witness the fluid mound,<br/> +Rear’d by thy belly up before thine eyes,<br/> +A mass corrupt.” To whom the coiner thus:<br/> +“Thy mouth gapes wide as ever to let pass<br/> +Its evil saying. Me if thirst assails,<br/> +Yet I am stuff’d with moisture. Thou art parch’d,<br/> +Pains rack thy head, no urging would’st thou need<br/> +To make thee lap Narcissus’ mirror up.” +</p> + +<p> +I was all fix’d to listen, when my guide<br/> +Admonish’d: “Now beware: a little more.<br/> +And I do quarrel with thee.” I perceiv’d<br/> +How angrily he spake, and towards him turn’d<br/> +With shame so poignant, as remember’d yet<br/> +Confounds me. As a man that dreams of harm<br/> +Befall’n him, dreaming wishes it a dream,<br/> +And that which is, desires as if it were not,<br/> +Such then was I, who wanting power to speak<br/> +Wish’d to excuse myself, and all the while<br/> +Excus’d me, though unweeting that I did. +</p> + +<p> +“More grievous fault than thine has been, less shame,”<br/> +My master cried, “might expiate. Therefore cast<br/> +All sorrow from thy soul; and if again<br/> +Chance bring thee, where like conference is held,<br/> +Think I am ever at thy side. To hear<br/> +Such wrangling is a joy for vulgar minds.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXXI"></a>CANTO XXXI</h2> + +<p> +The very tongue, whose keen reproof before<br/> +Had wounded me, that either cheek was stain’d,<br/> +Now minister’d my cure. So have I heard,<br/> +Achilles and his father’s javelin caus’d<br/> +Pain first, and then the boon of health restor’d. +</p> + +<p> +Turning our back upon the vale of woe,<br/> +W cross’d th’ encircled mound in silence. There<br/> +Was twilight dim, that far long the gloom<br/> +Mine eye advanc’d not: but I heard a horn<br/> +Sounded aloud. The peal it blew had made<br/> +The thunder feeble. Following its course<br/> +The adverse way, my strained eyes were bent<br/> +On that one spot. So terrible a blast<br/> +Orlando blew not, when that dismal rout<br/> +O’erthrew the host of Charlemagne, and quench’d<br/> +His saintly warfare. Thitherward not long<br/> +My head was rais’d, when many lofty towers<br/> +Methought I spied. “Master,” said I, “what land<br/> +Is this?” He answer’d straight: “Too long a space<br/> +Of intervening darkness has thine eye<br/> +To traverse: thou hast therefore widely err’d<br/> +In thy imagining. Thither arriv’d<br/> +Thou well shalt see, how distance can delude<br/> +The sense. A little therefore urge thee on.” +</p> + +<p> +Then tenderly he caught me by the hand;<br/> +“Yet know,” said he, “ere farther we advance,<br/> +That it less strange may seem, these are not towers,<br/> +But giants. In the pit they stand immers’d,<br/> +Each from his navel downward, round the bank.” +</p> + +<p> +As when a fog disperseth gradually,<br/> +Our vision traces what the mist involves<br/> +Condens’d in air; so piercing through the gross<br/> +And gloomy atmosphere, as more and more<br/> +We near’d toward the brink, mine error fled,<br/> +And fear came o’er me. As with circling round<br/> +Of turrets, Montereggion crowns his walls,<br/> +E’en thus the shore, encompassing th’ abyss,<br/> +Was turreted with giants, half their length<br/> +Uprearing, horrible, whom Jove from heav’n<br/> +Yet threatens, when his mutt’ring thunder rolls. +</p> + +<p> +Of one already I descried the face,<br/> +Shoulders, and breast, and of the belly huge<br/> +Great part, and both arms down along his ribs. +</p> + +<p> +All-teeming nature, when her plastic hand<br/> +Left framing of these monsters, did display<br/> +Past doubt her wisdom, taking from mad War<br/> +Such slaves to do his bidding; and if she<br/> +Repent her not of th’ elephant and whale,<br/> +Who ponders well confesses her therein<br/> +Wiser and more discreet; for when brute force<br/> +And evil will are back’d with subtlety,<br/> +Resistance none avails. His visage seem’d<br/> +In length and bulk, as doth the pine, that tops<br/> +Saint Peter’s Roman fane; and th’ other bones<br/> +Of like proportion, so that from above<br/> +The bank, which girdled him below, such height<br/> +Arose his stature, that three Friezelanders<br/> +Had striv’n in vain to reach but to his hair.<br/> +Full thirty ample palms was he expos’d<br/> +Downward from whence a man his garments loops.<br/> +“Raphel bai ameth sabi almi,”<br/> +So shouted his fierce lips, which sweeter hymns<br/> +Became not; and my guide address’d him thus: +</p> + +<p> +“O senseless spirit! let thy horn for thee<br/> +Interpret: therewith vent thy rage, if rage<br/> +Or other passion wring thee. Search thy neck,<br/> +There shalt thou find the belt that binds it on.<br/> +Wild spirit! lo, upon thy mighty breast<br/> +Where hangs the baldrick!” Then to me he spake:<br/> +“He doth accuse himself. Nimrod is this,<br/> +Through whose ill counsel in the world no more<br/> +One tongue prevails. But pass we on, nor waste<br/> +Our words; for so each language is to him,<br/> +As his to others, understood by none.” +</p> + +<p> +Then to the leftward turning sped we forth,<br/> +And at a sling’s throw found another shade<br/> +Far fiercer and more huge. I cannot say<br/> +What master hand had girt him; but he held<br/> +Behind the right arm fetter’d, and before<br/> +The other with a chain, that fasten’d him<br/> +From the neck down, and five times round his form<br/> +Apparent met the wreathed links. “This proud one<br/> +Would of his strength against almighty Jove<br/> +Make trial,” said my guide; “whence he is thus<br/> +Requited: Ephialtes him they call. +</p> + +<p> +“Great was his prowess, when the giants brought<br/> +Fear on the gods: those arms, which then he piled,<br/> +Now moves he never.” Forthwith I return’d:<br/> +“Fain would I, if ’t were possible, mine eyes<br/> +Of Briareus immeasurable gain’d<br/> +Experience next.” He answer’d: “Thou shalt see<br/> +Not far from hence Antaeus, who both speaks<br/> +And is unfetter’d, who shall place us there<br/> +Where guilt is at its depth. Far onward stands<br/> +Whom thou wouldst fain behold, in chains, and made<br/> +Like to this spirit, save that in his looks<br/> +More fell he seems.” By violent earthquake rock’d<br/> +Ne’er shook a tow’r, so reeling to its base,<br/> +As Ephialtes. More than ever then<br/> +I dreaded death, nor than the terror more<br/> +Had needed, if I had not seen the cords<br/> +That held him fast. We, straightway journeying on,<br/> +Came to Antaeus, who five ells complete<br/> +Without the head, forth issued from the cave. +</p> + +<p> +“O thou, who in the fortunate vale, that made<br/> +Great Scipio heir of glory, when his sword<br/> +Drove back the troop of Hannibal in flight,<br/> +Who thence of old didst carry for thy spoil<br/> +An hundred lions; and if thou hadst fought<br/> +In the high conflict on thy brethren’s side,<br/> +Seems as men yet believ’d, that through thine arm<br/> +The sons of earth had conquer’d, now vouchsafe<br/> +To place us down beneath, where numbing cold<br/> +Locks up Cocytus. Force not that we crave<br/> +Or Tityus’ help or Typhon’s. Here is one<br/> +Can give what in this realm ye covet. Stoop<br/> +Therefore, nor scornfully distort thy lip.<br/> +He in the upper world can yet bestow<br/> +Renown on thee, for he doth live, and looks<br/> +For life yet longer, if before the time<br/> +Grace call him not unto herself.” Thus spake<br/> +The teacher. He in haste forth stretch’d his hands,<br/> +And caught my guide. Alcides whilom felt<br/> +That grapple straighten’d score. Soon as my guide<br/> +Had felt it, he bespake me thus: “This way<br/> +That I may clasp thee;” then so caught me up,<br/> +That we were both one burden. As appears<br/> +The tower of Carisenda, from beneath<br/> +Where it doth lean, if chance a passing cloud<br/> +So sail across, that opposite it hangs,<br/> +Such then Antaeus seem’d, as at mine ease<br/> +I mark’d him stooping. I were fain at times<br/> +T’ have pass’d another way. Yet in th’ abyss,<br/> +That Lucifer with Judas low ingulfs,<br/> +Lightly he plac’d us; nor there leaning stay’d,<br/> +But rose as in a bark the stately mast. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXXII"></a>CANTO XXXII</h2> + +<p> +Could I command rough rhimes and hoarse, to suit<br/> +That hole of sorrow, o’er which ev’ry rock<br/> +His firm abutment rears, then might the vein<br/> +Of fancy rise full springing: but not mine<br/> +Such measures, and with falt’ring awe I touch<br/> +The mighty theme; for to describe the depth<br/> +Of all the universe, is no emprize<br/> +To jest with, and demands a tongue not us’d<br/> +To infant babbling. But let them assist<br/> +My song, the tuneful maidens, by whose aid<br/> +Amphion wall’d in Thebes, so with the truth<br/> +My speech shall best accord. Oh ill-starr’d folk,<br/> +Beyond all others wretched! who abide<br/> +In such a mansion, as scarce thought finds words<br/> +To speak of, better had ye here on earth<br/> +Been flocks or mountain goats. As down we stood<br/> +In the dark pit beneath the giants’ feet,<br/> +But lower far than they, and I did gaze<br/> +Still on the lofty battlement, a voice<br/> +Bespoke me thus: “Look how thou walkest. Take<br/> +Good heed, thy soles do tread not on the heads<br/> +Of thy poor brethren.” Thereupon I turn’d,<br/> +And saw before and underneath my feet<br/> +A lake, whose frozen surface liker seem’d<br/> +To glass than water. Not so thick a veil<br/> +In winter e’er hath Austrian Danube spread<br/> +O’er his still course, nor Tanais far remote<br/> +Under the chilling sky. Roll’d o’er that mass<br/> +Had Tabernich or Pietrapana fall’n, +</p> + +<p> +Not e’en its rim had creak’d. As peeps the frog<br/> +Croaking above the wave, what time in dreams<br/> +The village gleaner oft pursues her toil,<br/> +So, to where modest shame appears, thus low<br/> +Blue pinch’d and shrin’d in ice the spirits stood,<br/> +Moving their teeth in shrill note like the stork.<br/> +His face each downward held; their mouth the cold,<br/> +Their eyes express’d the dolour of their heart. +</p> + +<p> +A space I look’d around, then at my feet<br/> +Saw two so strictly join’d, that of their head<br/> +The very hairs were mingled. “Tell me ye,<br/> +Whose bosoms thus together press,” said I,<br/> +“Who are ye?” At that sound their necks they bent,<br/> +And when their looks were lifted up to me,<br/> +Straightway their eyes, before all moist within,<br/> +Distill’d upon their lips, and the frost bound<br/> +The tears betwixt those orbs and held them there.<br/> +Plank unto plank hath never cramp clos’d up<br/> +So stoutly. Whence like two enraged goats<br/> +They clash’d together; them such fury seiz’d. +</p> + +<p> +And one, from whom the cold both ears had reft,<br/> +Exclaim’d, still looking downward: “Why on us<br/> +Dost speculate so long? If thou wouldst know<br/> +Who are these two, the valley, whence his wave<br/> +Bisenzio slopes, did for its master own<br/> +Their sire Alberto, and next him themselves.<br/> +They from one body issued; and throughout<br/> +Caina thou mayst search, nor find a shade<br/> +More worthy in congealment to be fix’d,<br/> +Not him, whose breast and shadow Arthur’s land<br/> +At that one blow dissever’d, not Focaccia,<br/> +No not this spirit, whose o’erjutting head<br/> +Obstructs my onward view: he bore the name<br/> +Of Mascheroni: Tuscan if thou be,<br/> +Well knowest who he was: and to cut short<br/> +All further question, in my form behold<br/> +What once was Camiccione. I await<br/> +Carlino here my kinsman, whose deep guilt<br/> +Shall wash out mine.” A thousand visages<br/> +Then mark’d I, which the keen and eager cold<br/> +Had shap’d into a doggish grin; whence creeps<br/> +A shiv’ring horror o’er me, at the thought<br/> +Of those frore shallows. While we journey’d on<br/> +Toward the middle, at whose point unites<br/> +All heavy substance, and I trembling went<br/> +Through that eternal chillness, I know not<br/> +If will it were or destiny, or chance,<br/> +But, passing ’midst the heads, my foot did strike<br/> +With violent blow against the face of one. +</p> + +<p> +“Wherefore dost bruise me?” weeping, he exclaim’d,<br/> +“Unless thy errand be some fresh revenge<br/> +For Montaperto, wherefore troublest me?” +</p> + +<p> +I thus: “Instructor, now await me here,<br/> +That I through him may rid me of my doubt.<br/> +Thenceforth what haste thou wilt.” The teacher paus’d,<br/> +And to that shade I spake, who bitterly<br/> +Still curs’d me in his wrath. “What art thou, speak,<br/> +That railest thus on others?” He replied:<br/> +“Now who art thou, that smiting others’ cheeks<br/> +Through Antenora roamest, with such force<br/> +As were past suff’rance, wert thou living still?” +</p> + +<p> +“And I am living, to thy joy perchance,”<br/> +Was my reply, “if fame be dear to thee,<br/> +That with the rest I may thy name enrol.” +</p> + +<p> +“The contrary of what I covet most,”<br/> +Said he, “thou tender’st: hence; nor vex me more.<br/> +Ill knowest thou to flatter in this vale.” +</p> + +<p> +Then seizing on his hinder scalp, I cried:<br/> +“Name thee, or not a hair shall tarry here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Rend all away,” he answer’d, “yet for that<br/> +I will not tell nor show thee who I am,<br/> +Though at my head thou pluck a thousand times.” +</p> + +<p> +Now I had grasp’d his tresses, and stript off<br/> +More than one tuft, he barking, with his eyes<br/> +Drawn in and downward, when another cried,<br/> +“What ails thee, Bocca? Sound not loud enough<br/> +Thy chatt’ring teeth, but thou must bark outright?<br/> +What devil wrings thee?”—“Now,” said I, “be dumb,<br/> +Accursed traitor! to thy shame of thee<br/> +True tidings will I bear.”—“Off,” he replied,<br/> +“Tell what thou list; but as thou escape from hence<br/> +To speak of him whose tongue hath been so glib,<br/> +Forget not: here he wails the Frenchman’s gold.<br/> +‘Him of Duera,’ thou canst say, ‘I mark’d,<br/> +Where the starv’d sinners pine.’ If thou be ask’d<br/> +What other shade was with them, at thy side<br/> +Is Beccaria, whose red gorge distain’d<br/> +The biting axe of Florence. Farther on,<br/> +If I misdeem not, Soldanieri bides,<br/> +With Ganellon, and Tribaldello, him<br/> +Who op’d Faenza when the people slept.” +</p> + +<p> +We now had left him, passing on our way,<br/> +When I beheld two spirits by the ice<br/> +Pent in one hollow, that the head of one<br/> +Was cowl unto the other; and as bread<br/> +Is raven’d up through hunger, th’ uppermost<br/> +Did so apply his fangs to th’ other’s brain,<br/> +Where the spine joins it. Not more furiously<br/> +On Menalippus’ temples Tydeus gnaw’d,<br/> +Than on that skull and on its garbage he. +</p> + +<p> +“O thou who show’st so beastly sign of hate<br/> +’Gainst him thou prey’st on, let me hear,” said I<br/> +“The cause, on such condition, that if right<br/> +Warrant thy grievance, knowing who ye are,<br/> +And what the colour of his sinning was,<br/> +I may repay thee in the world above,<br/> +If that, wherewith I speak be moist so long.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXXIII"></a>CANTO XXXIII</h2> + +<p> +His jaws uplifting from their fell repast,<br/> +That sinner wip’d them on the hairs o’ th’ head,<br/> +Which he behind had mangled, then began:<br/> +“Thy will obeying, I call up afresh<br/> +Sorrow past cure, which but to think of wrings<br/> +My heart, or ere I tell on’t. But if words,<br/> +That I may utter, shall prove seed to bear<br/> +Fruit of eternal infamy to him,<br/> +The traitor whom I gnaw at, thou at once<br/> +Shalt see me speak and weep. Who thou mayst be<br/> +I know not, nor how here below art come:<br/> +But Florentine thou seemest of a truth,<br/> +When I do hear thee. Know I was on earth<br/> +Count Ugolino, and th’ Archbishop he<br/> +Ruggieri. Why I neighbour him so close,<br/> +Now list. That through effect of his ill thoughts<br/> +In him my trust reposing, I was ta’en<br/> +And after murder’d, need is not I tell.<br/> +What therefore thou canst not have heard, that is,<br/> +How cruel was the murder, shalt thou hear,<br/> +And know if he have wrong’d me. A small grate<br/> +Within that mew, which for my sake the name<br/> +Of famine bears, where others yet must pine,<br/> +Already through its opening sev’ral moons<br/> +Had shown me, when I slept the evil sleep,<br/> +That from the future tore the curtain off.<br/> +This one, methought, as master of the sport,<br/> +Rode forth to chase the gaunt wolf and his whelps<br/> +Unto the mountain, which forbids the sight<br/> +Of Lucca to the Pisan. With lean brachs<br/> +Inquisitive and keen, before him rang’d<br/> +Lanfranchi with Sismondi and Gualandi.<br/> +After short course the father and the sons<br/> +Seem’d tir’d and lagging, and methought I saw<br/> +The sharp tusks gore their sides. When I awoke<br/> +Before the dawn, amid their sleep I heard<br/> +My sons (for they were with me) weep and ask<br/> +For bread. Right cruel art thou, if no pang<br/> +Thou feel at thinking what my heart foretold;<br/> +And if not now, why use thy tears to flow?<br/> +Now had they waken’d; and the hour drew near<br/> +When they were wont to bring us food; the mind<br/> +Of each misgave him through his dream, and I<br/> +Heard, at its outlet underneath lock’d up<br/> +The’ horrible tower: whence uttering not a word<br/> +I look’d upon the visage of my sons.<br/> +I wept not: so all stone I felt within.<br/> +They wept: and one, my little Anslem, cried:<br/> +“Thou lookest so! Father what ails thee?” Yet<br/> +I shed no tear, nor answer’d all that day<br/> +Nor the next night, until another sun<br/> +Came out upon the world. When a faint beam<br/> +Had to our doleful prison made its way,<br/> +And in four countenances I descry’d<br/> +The image of my own, on either hand<br/> +Through agony I bit, and they who thought<br/> +I did it through desire of feeding, rose<br/> +O’ th’ sudden, and cried, ‘Father, we should grieve<br/> +Far less, if thou wouldst eat of us: thou gav’st<br/> +These weeds of miserable flesh we wear, +</p> + +<p> +‘And do thou strip them off from us again.’<br/> +Then, not to make them sadder, I kept down<br/> +My spirit in stillness. That day and the next<br/> +We all were silent. Ah, obdurate earth!<br/> +Why open’dst not upon us? When we came<br/> +To the fourth day, then Geddo at my feet<br/> +Outstretch’d did fling him, crying, ‘Hast no help<br/> +For me, my father!’ There he died, and e’en<br/> +Plainly as thou seest me, saw I the three<br/> +Fall one by one ’twixt the fifth day and sixth: +</p> + +<p> +“Whence I betook me now grown blind to grope<br/> +Over them all, and for three days aloud<br/> +Call’d on them who were dead. Then fasting got<br/> +The mastery of grief.” Thus having spoke, +</p> + +<p> +Once more upon the wretched skull his teeth<br/> +He fasten’d, like a mastiff’s ’gainst the bone<br/> +Firm and unyielding. Oh thou Pisa! shame<br/> +Of all the people, who their dwelling make<br/> +In that fair region, where th’ Italian voice<br/> +Is heard, since that thy neighbours are so slack<br/> +To punish, from their deep foundations rise<br/> +Capraia and Gorgona, and dam up<br/> +The mouth of Arno, that each soul in thee<br/> +May perish in the waters! What if fame<br/> +Reported that thy castles were betray’d<br/> +By Ugolino, yet no right hadst thou<br/> +To stretch his children on the rack. For them,<br/> +Brigata, Ugaccione, and the pair<br/> +Of gentle ones, of whom my song hath told,<br/> +Their tender years, thou modern Thebes! did make<br/> +Uncapable of guilt. Onward we pass’d,<br/> +Where others skarf’d in rugged folds of ice<br/> +Not on their feet were turn’d, but each revers’d. +</p> + +<p> +There very weeping suffers not to weep;<br/> +For at their eyes grief seeking passage finds<br/> +Impediment, and rolling inward turns<br/> +For increase of sharp anguish: the first tears<br/> +Hang cluster’d, and like crystal vizors show,<br/> +Under the socket brimming all the cup. +</p> + +<p> +Now though the cold had from my face dislodg’d<br/> +Each feeling, as ’t were callous, yet me seem’d<br/> +Some breath of wind I felt. “Whence cometh this,”<br/> +Said I, “my master? Is not here below<br/> +All vapour quench’d?”—“‘Thou shalt be speedily,”<br/> +He answer’d, “where thine eye shall tell thee whence<br/> +The cause descrying of this airy shower.” +</p> + +<p> +Then cried out one in the chill crust who mourn’d:<br/> +“O souls so cruel! that the farthest post<br/> +Hath been assign’d you, from this face remove<br/> +The harden’d veil, that I may vent the grief<br/> +Impregnate at my heart, some little space<br/> +Ere it congeal again!” I thus replied:<br/> +“Say who thou wast, if thou wouldst have mine aid;<br/> +And if I extricate thee not, far down<br/> +As to the lowest ice may I descend!” +</p> + +<p> +“The friar Alberigo,” answered he,<br/> +“Am I, who from the evil garden pluck’d<br/> +Its fruitage, and am here repaid, the date<br/> +More luscious for my fig.”—“Hah!” I exclaim’d,<br/> +“Art thou too dead!”—“How in the world aloft<br/> +It fareth with my body,” answer’d he,<br/> +“I am right ignorant. Such privilege<br/> +Hath Ptolomea, that ofttimes the soul<br/> +Drops hither, ere by Atropos divorc’d.<br/> +And that thou mayst wipe out more willingly<br/> +The glazed tear-drops that o’erlay mine eyes,<br/> +Know that the soul, that moment she betrays,<br/> +As I did, yields her body to a fiend<br/> +Who after moves and governs it at will,<br/> +Till all its time be rounded; headlong she<br/> +Falls to this cistern. And perchance above<br/> +Doth yet appear the body of a ghost,<br/> +Who here behind me winters. Him thou know’st,<br/> +If thou but newly art arriv’d below.<br/> +The years are many that have pass’d away,<br/> +Since to this fastness Branca Doria came.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” answer’d I, “methinks thou mockest me,<br/> +For Branca Doria never yet hath died,<br/> +But doth all natural functions of a man,<br/> +Eats, drinks, and sleeps, and putteth raiment on.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus: “Not yet unto that upper foss<br/> +By th’ evil talons guarded, where the pitch<br/> +Tenacious boils, had Michael Zanche reach’d,<br/> +When this one left a demon in his stead<br/> +In his own body, and of one his kin,<br/> +Who with him treachery wrought. But now put forth<br/> +Thy hand, and ope mine eyes.” I op’d them not.<br/> +Ill manners were best courtesy to him. +</p> + +<p> +Ah Genoese! men perverse in every way,<br/> +With every foulness stain’d, why from the earth<br/> +Are ye not cancel’d? Such an one of yours<br/> +I with Romagna’s darkest spirit found,<br/> +As for his doings even now in soul<br/> +Is in Cocytus plung’d, and yet doth seem<br/> +In body still alive upon the earth. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXXIV"></a>CANTO XXXIV</h2> + +<p> +“The banners of Hell’s Monarch do come forth<br/> +Towards us; therefore look,” so spake my guide,<br/> +“If thou discern him.” As, when breathes a cloud<br/> +Heavy and dense, or when the shades of night<br/> +Fall on our hemisphere, seems view’d from far<br/> +A windmill, which the blast stirs briskly round,<br/> +Such was the fabric then methought I saw, +</p> + +<p> +To shield me from the wind, forthwith I drew<br/> +Behind my guide: no covert else was there. +</p> + +<p> +Now came I (and with fear I bid my strain<br/> +Record the marvel) where the souls were all<br/> +Whelm’d underneath, transparent, as through glass<br/> +Pellucid the frail stem. Some prone were laid,<br/> +Others stood upright, this upon the soles,<br/> +That on his head, a third with face to feet<br/> +Arch’d like a bow. When to the point we came,<br/> +Whereat my guide was pleas’d that I should see<br/> +The creature eminent in beauty once,<br/> +He from before me stepp’d and made me pause. +</p> + +<p> +“Lo!” he exclaim’d, “lo Dis! and lo the place,<br/> +Where thou hast need to arm thy heart with strength.” +</p> + +<p> +How frozen and how faint I then became,<br/> +Ask me not, reader! for I write it not,<br/> +Since words would fail to tell thee of my state.<br/> +I was not dead nor living. Think thyself<br/> +If quick conception work in thee at all,<br/> +How I did feel. That emperor, who sways<br/> +The realm of sorrow, at mid breast from th’ ice<br/> +Stood forth; and I in stature am more like<br/> +A giant, than the giants are in his arms.<br/> +Mark now how great that whole must be, which suits<br/> +With such a part. If he were beautiful<br/> +As he is hideous now, and yet did dare<br/> +To scowl upon his Maker, well from him<br/> +May all our mis’ry flow. Oh what a sight!<br/> +How passing strange it seem’d, when I did spy<br/> +Upon his head three faces: one in front<br/> +Of hue vermilion, th’ other two with this<br/> +Midway each shoulder join’d and at the crest;<br/> +The right ’twixt wan and yellow seem’d: the left<br/> +To look on, such as come from whence old Nile<br/> +Stoops to the lowlands. Under each shot forth<br/> +Two mighty wings, enormous as became<br/> +A bird so vast. Sails never such I saw<br/> +Outstretch’d on the wide sea. No plumes had they,<br/> +But were in texture like a bat, and these<br/> +He flapp’d i’ th’ air, that from him issued still<br/> +Three winds, wherewith Cocytus to its depth<br/> +Was frozen. At six eyes he wept: the tears<br/> +Adown three chins distill’d with bloody foam.<br/> +At every mouth his teeth a sinner champ’d<br/> +Bruis’d as with pond’rous engine, so that three<br/> +Were in this guise tormented. But far more<br/> +Than from that gnawing, was the foremost pang’d<br/> +By the fierce rending, whence ofttimes the back<br/> +Was stript of all its skin. “That upper spirit,<br/> +Who hath worse punishment,” so spake my guide,<br/> +“Is Judas, he that hath his head within<br/> +And plies the feet without. Of th’ other two,<br/> +Whose heads are under, from the murky jaw<br/> +Who hangs, is Brutus: lo! how he doth writhe<br/> +And speaks not! Th’ other Cassius, that appears<br/> +So large of limb. But night now re-ascends,<br/> +And it is time for parting. All is seen.” +</p> + +<p> +I clipp’d him round the neck, for so he bade;<br/> +And noting time and place, he, when the wings<br/> +Enough were op’d, caught fast the shaggy sides,<br/> +And down from pile to pile descending stepp’d<br/> +Between the thick fell and the jagged ice. +</p> + +<p> +Soon as he reach’d the point, whereat the thigh<br/> +Upon the swelling of the haunches turns,<br/> +My leader there with pain and struggling hard<br/> +Turn’d round his head, where his feet stood before,<br/> +And grappled at the fell, as one who mounts,<br/> +That into hell methought we turn’d again. +</p> + +<p> +“Expect that by such stairs as these,” thus spake<br/> +The teacher, panting like a man forespent,<br/> +“We must depart from evil so extreme.”<br/> +Then at a rocky opening issued forth,<br/> +And plac’d me on a brink to sit, next join’d<br/> +With wary step my side. I rais’d mine eyes,<br/> +Believing that I Lucifer should see<br/> +Where he was lately left, but saw him now<br/> +With legs held upward. Let the grosser sort,<br/> +Who see not what the point was I had pass’d,<br/> +Bethink them if sore toil oppress’d me then. +</p> + +<p> +“Arise,” my master cried, “upon thy feet.<br/> +The way is long, and much uncouth the road;<br/> +And now within one hour and half of noon<br/> +The sun returns.” It was no palace-hall<br/> +Lofty and luminous wherein we stood,<br/> +But natural dungeon where ill footing was<br/> +And scant supply of light. “Ere from th’ abyss<br/> +I sep’rate,” thus when risen I began,<br/> +“My guide! vouchsafe few words to set me free<br/> +From error’s thralldom. Where is now the ice?<br/> +How standeth he in posture thus revers’d?<br/> +And how from eve to morn in space so brief<br/> +Hath the sun made his transit?” He in few<br/> +Thus answering spake: “Thou deemest thou art still<br/> +On th’ other side the centre, where I grasp’d<br/> +Th’ abhorred worm, that boreth through the world.<br/> +Thou wast on th’ other side, so long as I<br/> +Descended; when I turn’d, thou didst o’erpass<br/> +That point, to which from ev’ry part is dragg’d<br/> +All heavy substance. Thou art now arriv’d<br/> +Under the hemisphere opposed to that,<br/> +Which the great continent doth overspread,<br/> +And underneath whose canopy expir’d<br/> +The Man, that was born sinless, and so liv’d.<br/> +Thy feet are planted on the smallest sphere,<br/> +Whose other aspect is Judecca. Morn<br/> +Here rises, when there evening sets: and he,<br/> +Whose shaggy pile was scal’d, yet standeth fix’d,<br/> +As at the first. On this part he fell down<br/> +From heav’n; and th’ earth, here prominent before,<br/> +Through fear of him did veil her with the sea,<br/> +And to our hemisphere retir’d. Perchance<br/> +To shun him was the vacant space left here<br/> +By what of firm land on this side appears,<br/> +That sprang aloof.” There is a place beneath,<br/> +From Belzebub as distant, as extends<br/> +The vaulted tomb, discover’d not by sight,<br/> +But by the sound of brooklet, that descends<br/> +This way along the hollow of a rock,<br/> +Which, as it winds with no precipitous course,<br/> +The wave hath eaten. By that hidden way<br/> +My guide and I did enter, to return<br/> +To the fair world: and heedless of repose<br/> +We climbed, he first, I following his steps,<br/> +Till on our view the beautiful lights of heav’n<br/> +Dawn’d through a circular opening in the cave:<br/> +Thus issuing we again beheld the stars. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1005 ***</div> +</body> + +</html> + + diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dc8fb9b --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #1005 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1005) diff --git a/old/1005-0.txt b/old/1005-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e437b4a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1005-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5723 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Divine Comedy, Hell, by Dante Alighieri + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: The Divine Comedy + Hell + +Author: Dante Alighieri + +Translator: Henry Francis Cary + +Release Date: August 7, 2004 [eBook #1005] +[Most recently updated: December 23, 2021] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Judith Smith and Natalie Salter + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DIVINE COMEDY, HELL *** + + + + +HELL + +OR THE INFERNO FROM THE DIVINE COMEDY + +BY +Dante Alighieri + +Translated by +THE REV. H. F. CARY, M.A. + + +Contents + + CANTO I. + CANTO II. + CANTO III. + CANTO IV. + CANTO V. + CANTO VI. + CANTO VII. + CANTO VIII. + CANTO IX. + CANTO X. + CANTO XI. + CANTO XII. + CANTO XIII. + CANTO XIV. + CANTO XV. + CANTO XVI. + CANTO XVII. + CANTO XVIII. + CANTO XIX. + CANTO XX. + CANTO XXI. + CANTO XXII. + CANTO XXIII. + CANTO XXIV. + CANTO XXV. + CANTO XXVI. + CANTO XXVII. + CANTO XXVIII. + CANTO XXIX. + CANTO XXX. + CANTO XXXI. + CANTO XXXII. + CANTO XXXIII. + CANTO XXXIV. + + + + +HELL + + + + +CANTO I + + +In the midway of this our mortal life, +I found me in a gloomy wood, astray +Gone from the path direct: and e’en to tell +It were no easy task, how savage wild +That forest, how robust and rough its growth, +Which to remember only, my dismay +Renews, in bitterness not far from death. +Yet to discourse of what there good befell, +All else will I relate discover’d there. +How first I enter’d it I scarce can say, +Such sleepy dullness in that instant weigh’d +My senses down, when the true path I left, +But when a mountain’s foot I reach’d, where clos’d +The valley, that had pierc’d my heart with dread, +I look’d aloft, and saw his shoulders broad +Already vested with that planet’s beam, +Who leads all wanderers safe through every way. + +Then was a little respite to the fear, +That in my heart’s recesses deep had lain, +All of that night, so pitifully pass’d: +And as a man, with difficult short breath, +Forespent with toiling, ’scap’d from sea to shore, +Turns to the perilous wide waste, and stands +At gaze; e’en so my spirit, that yet fail’d +Struggling with terror, turn’d to view the straits, +That none hath pass’d and liv’d. My weary frame +After short pause recomforted, again +I journey’d on over that lonely steep, + +The hinder foot still firmer. Scarce the ascent +Began, when, lo! a panther, nimble, light, +And cover’d with a speckled skin, appear’d, +Nor, when it saw me, vanish’d, rather strove +To check my onward going; that ofttimes +With purpose to retrace my steps I turn’d. + +The hour was morning’s prime, and on his way +Aloft the sun ascended with those stars, +That with him rose, when Love divine first mov’d +Those its fair works: so that with joyous hope +All things conspir’d to fill me, the gay skin +Of that swift animal, the matin dawn +And the sweet season. Soon that joy was chas’d, +And by new dread succeeded, when in view +A lion came, ’gainst me, as it appear’d, + +With his head held aloft and hunger-mad, +That e’en the air was fear-struck. A she-wolf +Was at his heels, who in her leanness seem’d +Full of all wants, and many a land hath made +Disconsolate ere now. She with such fear +O’erwhelmed me, at the sight of her appall’d, +That of the height all hope I lost. As one, +Who with his gain elated, sees the time +When all unwares is gone, he inwardly +Mourns with heart-griping anguish; such was I, +Haunted by that fell beast, never at peace, +Who coming o’er against me, by degrees +Impell’d me where the sun in silence rests. + +While to the lower space with backward step +I fell, my ken discern’d the form one of one, +Whose voice seem’d faint through long disuse of speech. +When him in that great desert I espied, +“Have mercy on me!” cried I out aloud, +“Spirit! or living man! what e’er thou be!” + +He answer’d: “Now not man, man once I was, +And born of Lombard parents, Mantuana both +By country, when the power of Julius yet +Was scarcely firm. At Rome my life was past +Beneath the mild Augustus, in the time +Of fabled deities and false. A bard +Was I, and made Anchises’ upright son +The subject of my song, who came from Troy, +When the flames prey’d on Ilium’s haughty towers. +But thou, say wherefore to such perils past +Return’st thou? wherefore not this pleasant mount +Ascendest, cause and source of all delight?” +“And art thou then that Virgil, that well-spring, +From which such copious floods of eloquence +Have issued?” I with front abash’d replied. +“Glory and light of all the tuneful train! +May it avail me that I long with zeal +Have sought thy volume, and with love immense +Have conn’d it o’er. My master thou and guide! +Thou he from whom alone I have deriv’d +That style, which for its beauty into fame +Exalts me. See the beast, from whom I fled. +O save me from her, thou illustrious sage!” + +“For every vein and pulse throughout my frame +She hath made tremble.” He, soon as he saw +That I was weeping, answer’d, “Thou must needs +Another way pursue, if thou wouldst ’scape +From out that savage wilderness. This beast, +At whom thou criest, her way will suffer none +To pass, and no less hindrance makes than death: +So bad and so accursed in her kind, +That never sated is her ravenous will, +Still after food more craving than before. +To many an animal in wedlock vile +She fastens, and shall yet to many more, +Until that greyhound come, who shall destroy +Her with sharp pain. He will not life support +By earth nor its base metals, but by love, +Wisdom, and virtue, and his land shall be +The land ’twixt either Feltro. In his might +Shall safety to Italia’s plains arise, +For whose fair realm, Camilla, virgin pure, +Nisus, Euryalus, and Turnus fell. +He with incessant chase through every town +Shall worry, until he to hell at length +Restore her, thence by envy first let loose. +I for thy profit pond’ring now devise, +That thou mayst follow me, and I thy guide +Will lead thee hence through an eternal space, +Where thou shalt hear despairing shrieks, and see +Spirits of old tormented, who invoke +A second death; and those next view, who dwell +Content in fire, for that they hope to come, +Whene’er the time may be, among the blest, +Into whose regions if thou then desire +T’ ascend, a spirit worthier then I +Must lead thee, in whose charge, when I depart, +Thou shalt be left: for that Almighty King, +Who reigns above, a rebel to his law, +Adjudges me, and therefore hath decreed, +That to his city none through me should come. +He in all parts hath sway; there rules, there holds +His citadel and throne. O happy those, +Whom there he chooses!” I to him in few: +“Bard! by that God, whom thou didst not adore, +I do beseech thee (that this ill and worse +I may escape) to lead me, where thou saidst, +That I Saint Peter’s gate may view, and those +Who as thou tell’st, are in such dismal plight.” + +Onward he mov’d, I close his steps pursu’d. + + + + +CANTO II + + +Now was the day departing, and the air, +Imbrown’d with shadows, from their toils releas’d +All animals on earth; and I alone +Prepar’d myself the conflict to sustain, +Both of sad pity, and that perilous road, +Which my unerring memory shall retrace. + +O Muses! O high genius! now vouchsafe +Your aid! O mind! that all I saw hast kept +Safe in a written record, here thy worth +And eminent endowments come to proof. + +I thus began: “Bard! thou who art my guide, +Consider well, if virtue be in me +Sufficient, ere to this high enterprise +Thou trust me. Thou hast told that Silvius’ sire, +Yet cloth’d in corruptible flesh, among +Th’ immortal tribes had entrance, and was there +Sensible present. Yet if heaven’s great Lord, +Almighty foe to ill, such favour shew’d, +In contemplation of the high effect, +Both what and who from him should issue forth, +It seems in reason’s judgment well deserv’d: +Sith he of Rome, and of Rome’s empire wide, +In heaven’s empyreal height was chosen sire: +Both which, if truth be spoken, were ordain’d +And ’stablish’d for the holy place, where sits +Who to great Peter’s sacred chair succeeds. +He from this journey, in thy song renown’d, +Learn’d things, that to his victory gave rise +And to the papal robe. In after-times +The chosen vessel also travel’d there, +To bring us back assurance in that faith, +Which is the entrance to salvation’s way. +But I, why should I there presume? or who +Permits it? not, Aeneas I nor Paul. +Myself I deem not worthy, and none else +Will deem me. I, if on this voyage then +I venture, fear it will in folly end. +Thou, who art wise, better my meaning know’st, +Than I can speak.” As one, who unresolves +What he hath late resolv’d, and with new thoughts +Changes his purpose, from his first intent +Remov’d; e’en such was I on that dun coast, +Wasting in thought my enterprise, at first +So eagerly embrac’d. “If right thy words +I scan,” replied that shade magnanimous, +“Thy soul is by vile fear assail’d, which oft +So overcasts a man, that he recoils +From noblest resolution, like a beast +At some false semblance in the twilight gloom. +That from this terror thou mayst free thyself, +I will instruct thee why I came, and what +I heard in that same instant, when for thee +Grief touch’d me first. I was among the tribe, +Who rest suspended, when a dame, so blest +And lovely, I besought her to command, +Call’d me; her eyes were brighter than the star +Of day; and she with gentle voice and soft +Angelically tun’d her speech address’d: +“O courteous shade of Mantua! thou whose fame +Yet lives, and shall live long as nature lasts! +A friend, not of my fortune but myself, +On the wide desert in his road has met +Hindrance so great, that he through fear has turn’d. +Now much I dread lest he past help have stray’d, +And I be ris’n too late for his relief, +From what in heaven of him I heard. Speed now, +And by thy eloquent persuasive tongue, +And by all means for his deliverance meet, +Assist him. So to me will comfort spring. +I who now bid thee on this errand forth +Am Beatrice; from a place I come +Revisited with joy. Love brought me thence, +Who prompts my speech. When in my Master’s sight +I stand, thy praise to him I oft will tell.” + +(Note: Beatrice. I use this word, as it is +pronounced in the Italian, as consisting of four +syllables, of which the third is a long one.) + + +She then was silent, and I thus began: +“O Lady! by whose influence alone, +Mankind excels whatever is contain’d +Within that heaven which hath the smallest orb, +So thy command delights me, that to obey, +If it were done already, would seem late. +No need hast thou farther to speak thy will; +Yet tell the reason, why thou art not loth +To leave that ample space, where to return +Thou burnest, for this centre here beneath.” + +She then: “Since thou so deeply wouldst inquire, +I will instruct thee briefly, why no dread +Hinders my entrance here. Those things alone +Are to be fear’d, whence evil may proceed, +None else, for none are terrible beside. +I am so fram’d by God, thanks to his grace! +That any suff’rance of your misery +Touches me not, nor flame of that fierce fire +Assails me. In high heaven a blessed dame +Besides, who mourns with such effectual grief +That hindrance, which I send thee to remove, +That God’s stern judgment to her will inclines.” +To Lucia calling, her she thus bespake: +“Now doth thy faithful servant need thy aid +And I commend him to thee.” At her word +Sped Lucia, of all cruelty the foe, +And coming to the place, where I abode +Seated with Rachel, her of ancient days, +She thus address’d me: “Thou true praise of God! +Beatrice! why is not thy succour lent +To him, who so much lov’d thee, as to leave +For thy sake all the multitude admires? +Dost thou not hear how pitiful his wail, +Nor mark the death, which in the torrent flood, +Swoln mightier than a sea, him struggling holds?” +“Ne’er among men did any with such speed +Haste to their profit, flee from their annoy, +As when these words were spoken, I came here, +Down from my blessed seat, trusting the force +Of thy pure eloquence, which thee, and all +Who well have mark’d it, into honour brings.” + +“When she had ended, her bright beaming eyes +Tearful she turn’d aside; whereat I felt +Redoubled zeal to serve thee. As she will’d, +Thus am I come: I sav’d thee from the beast, +Who thy near way across the goodly mount +Prevented. What is this comes o’er thee then? +Why, why dost thou hang back? why in thy breast +Harbour vile fear? why hast not courage there +And noble daring? Since three maids so blest +Thy safety plan, e’en in the court of heaven; +And so much certain good my words forebode.” + +As florets, by the frosty air of night +Bent down and clos’d, when day has blanch’d their leaves, +Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems; +So was my fainting vigour new restor’d, +And to my heart such kindly courage ran, +That I as one undaunted soon replied: +“O full of pity she, who undertook +My succour! and thou kind who didst perform +So soon her true behest! With such desire +Thou hast dispos’d me to renew my voyage, +That my first purpose fully is resum’d. +Lead on: one only will is in us both. +Thou art my guide, my master thou, and lord.” + +So spake I; and when he had onward mov’d, +I enter’d on the deep and woody way. + + + + +CANTO III + + +“Through me you pass into the city of woe: +Through me you pass into eternal pain: +Through me among the people lost for aye. +Justice the founder of my fabric mov’d: +To rear me was the task of power divine, +Supremest wisdom, and primeval love. +Before me things create were none, save things +Eternal, and eternal I endure. + +“All hope abandon ye who enter here.” + +Such characters in colour dim I mark’d +Over a portal’s lofty arch inscrib’d: +Whereat I thus: “Master, these words import +Hard meaning.” He as one prepar’d replied: +“Here thou must all distrust behind thee leave; +Here be vile fear extinguish’d. We are come +Where I have told thee we shall see the souls +To misery doom’d, who intellectual good +Have lost.” And when his hand he had stretch’d forth +To mine, with pleasant looks, whence I was cheer’d, +Into that secret place he led me on. + +Here sighs with lamentations and loud moans +Resounded through the air pierc’d by no star, +That e’en I wept at entering. Various tongues, +Horrible languages, outcries of woe, +Accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse, +With hands together smote that swell’d the sounds, +Made up a tumult, that for ever whirls +Round through that air with solid darkness stain’d, +Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies. + +I then, with error yet encompass’d, cried: +“O master! What is this I hear? What race +Are these, who seem so overcome with woe?” + +He thus to me: “This miserable fate +Suffer the wretched souls of those, who liv’d +Without or praise or blame, with that ill band +Of angels mix’d, who nor rebellious prov’d +Nor yet were true to God, but for themselves +Were only. From his bounds Heaven drove them forth, +Not to impair his lustre, nor the depth +Of Hell receives them, lest th’ accursed tribe +Should glory thence with exultation vain.” + +I then: “Master! what doth aggrieve them thus, +That they lament so loud?” He straight replied: +“That will I tell thee briefly. These of death +No hope may entertain: and their blind life +So meanly passes, that all other lots +They envy. Fame of them the world hath none, +Nor suffers; mercy and justice scorn them both. +Speak not of them, but look, and pass them by.” + +And I, who straightway look’d, beheld a flag, +Which whirling ran around so rapidly, +That it no pause obtain’d: and following came +Such a long train of spirits, I should ne’er +Have thought, that death so many had despoil’d. + +When some of these I recogniz’d, I saw +And knew the shade of him, who to base fear +Yielding, abjur’d his high estate. Forthwith +I understood for certain this the tribe +Of those ill spirits both to God displeasing +And to his foes. These wretches, who ne’er lived, +Went on in nakedness, and sorely stung +By wasps and hornets, which bedew’d their cheeks +With blood, that mix’d with tears dropp’d to their feet, +And by disgustful worms was gather’d there. + +Then looking farther onwards I beheld +A throng upon the shore of a great stream: +Whereat I thus: “Sir! grant me now to know +Whom here we view, and whence impell’d they seem +So eager to pass o’er, as I discern +Through the blear light?” He thus to me in few: +“This shalt thou know, soon as our steps arrive +Beside the woeful tide of Acheron.” + +Then with eyes downward cast and fill’d with shame, +Fearing my words offensive to his ear, +Till we had reach’d the river, I from speech +Abstain’d. And lo! toward us in a bark +Comes on an old man hoary white with eld, + +Crying, “Woe to you wicked spirits! hope not +Ever to see the sky again. I come +To take you to the other shore across, +Into eternal darkness, there to dwell +In fierce heat and in ice. And thou, who there +Standest, live spirit! get thee hence, and leave +These who are dead.” But soon as he beheld +I left them not, “By other way,” said he, +“By other haven shalt thou come to shore, +Not by this passage; thee a nimbler boat +Must carry.” Then to him thus spake my guide: +“Charon! thyself torment not: so ’t is will’d, +Where will and power are one: ask thou no more.” + +Straightway in silence fell the shaggy cheeks +Of him the boatman o’er the livid lake, +Around whose eyes glar’d wheeling flames. Meanwhile +Those spirits, faint and naked, color chang’d, +And gnash’d their teeth, soon as the cruel words +They heard. God and their parents they blasphem’d, +The human kind, the place, the time, and seed +That did engender them and give them birth. + +Then all together sorely wailing drew +To the curs’d strand, that every man must pass +Who fears not God. Charon, demoniac form, +With eyes of burning coal, collects them all, +Beck’ning, and each, that lingers, with his oar +Strikes. As fall off the light autumnal leaves, +One still another following, till the bough +Strews all its honours on the earth beneath; + +E’en in like manner Adam’s evil brood +Cast themselves one by one down from the shore, +Each at a beck, as falcon at his call. + +Thus go they over through the umber’d wave, +And ever they on the opposing bank +Be landed, on this side another throng +Still gathers. “Son,” thus spake the courteous guide, +“Those, who die subject to the wrath of God, +All here together come from every clime, +And to o’erpass the river are not loth: +For so heaven’s justice goads them on, that fear +Is turn’d into desire. Hence ne’er hath past +Good spirit. If of thee Charon complain, +Now mayst thou know the import of his words.” + +This said, the gloomy region trembling shook +So terribly, that yet with clammy dews +Fear chills my brow. The sad earth gave a blast, +That, lightening, shot forth a vermilion flame, +Which all my senses conquer’d quite, and I +Down dropp’d, as one with sudden slumber seiz’d. + + + + +CANTO IV + + +Broke the deep slumber in my brain a crash +Of heavy thunder, that I shook myself, +As one by main force rous’d. Risen upright, +My rested eyes I mov’d around, and search’d +With fixed ken to know what place it was, +Wherein I stood. For certain on the brink +I found me of the lamentable vale, +The dread abyss, that joins a thund’rous sound +Of plaints innumerable. Dark and deep, +And thick with clouds o’erspread, mine eye in vain +Explor’d its bottom, nor could aught discern. + +“Now let us to the blind world there beneath +Descend;” the bard began all pale of look: +“I go the first, and thou shalt follow next.” + +Then I his alter’d hue perceiving, thus: +“How may I speed, if thou yieldest to dread, +Who still art wont to comfort me in doubt?” + +He then: “The anguish of that race below +With pity stains my cheek, which thou for fear +Mistakest. Let us on. Our length of way +Urges to haste.” Onward, this said, he mov’d; +And ent’ring led me with him on the bounds +Of the first circle, that surrounds th’ abyss. +Here, as mine ear could note, no plaint was heard +Except of sighs, that made th’ eternal air +Tremble, not caus’d by tortures, but from grief +Felt by those multitudes, many and vast, +Of men, women, and infants. Then to me +The gentle guide: “Inquir’st thou not what spirits +Are these, which thou beholdest? Ere thou pass +Farther, I would thou know, that these of sin +Were blameless; and if aught they merited, +It profits not, since baptism was not theirs, +The portal to thy faith. If they before +The Gospel liv’d, they serv’d not God aright; +And among such am I. For these defects, +And for no other evil, we are lost;” + +“Only so far afflicted, that we live +Desiring without hope.” So grief assail’d +My heart at hearing this, for well I knew +Suspended in that Limbo many a soul +Of mighty worth. “O tell me, sire rever’d! +Tell me, my master!” I began through wish +Of full assurance in that holy faith, +Which vanquishes all error; “say, did e’er +Any, or through his own or other’s merit, +Come forth from thence, whom afterward was blest?” + +Piercing the secret purport of my speech, +He answer’d: “I was new to that estate, +When I beheld a puissant one arrive +Amongst us, with victorious trophy crown’d. +He forth the shade of our first parent drew, +Abel his child, and Noah righteous man, +Of Moses lawgiver for faith approv’d, +Of patriarch Abraham, and David king, +Israel with his sire and with his sons, +Nor without Rachel whom so hard he won, +And others many more, whom he to bliss +Exalted. Before these, be thou assur’d, +No spirit of human kind was ever sav’d.” + +We, while he spake, ceas’d not our onward road, +Still passing through the wood; for so I name +Those spirits thick beset. We were not far +On this side from the summit, when I kenn’d +A flame, that o’er the darken’d hemisphere +Prevailing shin’d. Yet we a little space +Were distant, not so far but I in part +Discover’d, that a tribe in honour high +That place possess’d. “O thou, who every art +And science valu’st! who are these, that boast +Such honour, separate from all the rest?” + +He answer’d: “The renown of their great names +That echoes through your world above, acquires +Favour in heaven, which holds them thus advanc’d.” +Meantime a voice I heard: “Honour the bard +Sublime! his shade returns that left us late!” +No sooner ceas’d the sound, than I beheld +Four mighty spirits toward us bend their steps, +Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad. + +When thus my master kind began: “Mark him, +Who in his right hand bears that falchion keen, +The other three preceding, as their lord. +This is that Homer, of all bards supreme: +Flaccus the next in satire’s vein excelling; +The third is Naso; Lucan is the last. +Because they all that appellation own, +With which the voice singly accosted me, +Honouring they greet me thus, and well they judge.” + +So I beheld united the bright school +Of him the monarch of sublimest song, +That o’er the others like an eagle soars. +When they together short discourse had held, +They turn’d to me, with salutation kind +Beck’ning me; at the which my master smil’d: +Nor was this all; but greater honour still +They gave me, for they made me of their tribe; +And I was sixth amid so learn’d a band. + +Far as the luminous beacon on we pass’d +Speaking of matters, then befitting well +To speak, now fitter left untold. At foot +Of a magnificent castle we arriv’d, +Seven times with lofty walls begirt, and round +Defended by a pleasant stream. O’er this +As o’er dry land we pass’d. Next through seven gates +I with those sages enter’d, and we came +Into a mead with lively verdure fresh. + +There dwelt a race, who slow their eyes around +Majestically mov’d, and in their port +Bore eminent authority; they spake +Seldom, but all their words were tuneful sweet. + +We to one side retir’d, into a place +Open and bright and lofty, whence each one +Stood manifest to view. Incontinent +There on the green enamel of the plain +Were shown me the great spirits, by whose sight +I am exalted in my own esteem. + +Electra there I saw accompanied +By many, among whom Hector I knew, +Anchises’ pious son, and with hawk’s eye +Caesar all arm’d, and by Camilla there +Penthesilea. On the other side +Old King Latinus, seated by his child +Lavinia, and that Brutus I beheld, +Who Tarquin chas’d, Lucretia, Cato’s wife +Marcia, with Julia and Cornelia there; +And sole apart retir’d, the Soldan fierce. + +Then when a little more I rais’d my brow, +I spied the master of the sapient throng, +Seated amid the philosophic train. +Him all admire, all pay him rev’rence due. +There Socrates and Plato both I mark’d, +Nearest to him in rank; Democritus, +Who sets the world at chance, Diogenes, +With Heraclitus, and Empedocles, +And Anaxagoras, and Thales sage, +Zeno, and Dioscorides well read +In nature’s secret lore. Orpheus I mark’d +And Linus, Tully and moral Seneca, +Euclid and Ptolemy, Hippocrates, +Galenus, Avicen, and him who made +That commentary vast, Averroes. + +Of all to speak at full were vain attempt; +For my wide theme so urges, that ofttimes +My words fall short of what bechanc’d. In two +The six associates part. Another way +My sage guide leads me, from that air serene, +Into a climate ever vex’d with storms: +And to a part I come where no light shines. + + + + +CANTO V + + +From the first circle I descended thus +Down to the second, which, a lesser space +Embracing, so much more of grief contains +Provoking bitter moans. There, Minos stands +Grinning with ghastly feature: he, of all +Who enter, strict examining the crimes, + +Gives sentence, and dismisses them beneath, +According as he foldeth him around: +For when before him comes th’ ill fated soul, +It all confesses; and that judge severe +Of sins, considering what place in hell +Suits the transgression, with his tail so oft +Himself encircles, as degrees beneath +He dooms it to descend. Before him stand +Always a num’rous throng; and in his turn +Each one to judgment passing, speaks, and hears +His fate, thence downward to his dwelling hurl’d. + +“O thou! who to this residence of woe +Approachest?” when he saw me coming, cried +Minos, relinquishing his dread employ, +“Look how thou enter here; beware in whom +Thou place thy trust; let not the entrance broad +Deceive thee to thy harm.” To him my guide: +“Wherefore exclaimest? Hinder not his way +By destiny appointed; so ’tis will’d +Where will and power are one. Ask thou no more.” + +Now ’gin the rueful wailings to be heard. +Now am I come where many a plaining voice +Smites on mine ear. Into a place I came +Where light was silent all. Bellowing there groan’d +A noise as of a sea in tempest torn +By warring winds. The stormy blast of hell +With restless fury drives the spirits on +Whirl’d round and dash’d amain with sore annoy. + +When they arrive before the ruinous sweep, +There shrieks are heard, there lamentations, moans, +And blasphemies ’gainst the good Power in heaven. + +I understood that to this torment sad +The carnal sinners are condemn’d, in whom +Reason by lust is sway’d. As in large troops +And multitudinous, when winter reigns, +The starlings on their wings are borne abroad; +So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls. +On this side and on that, above, below, +It drives them: hope of rest to solace them +Is none, nor e’en of milder pang. As cranes, +Chanting their dol’rous notes, traverse the sky, +Stretch’d out in long array: so I beheld +Spirits, who came loud wailing, hurried on +By their dire doom. Then I: “Instructor! who +Are these, by the black air so scourg’d?”—“The first +’Mong those, of whom thou question’st,” he replied, +“O’er many tongues was empress. She in vice +Of luxury was so shameless, that she made +Liking be lawful by promulg’d decree, +To clear the blame she had herself incurr’d. +This is Semiramis, of whom ’tis writ, +That she succeeded Ninus her espous’d; +And held the land, which now the Soldan rules. +The next in amorous fury slew herself, +And to Sicheus’ ashes broke her faith: +Then follows Cleopatra, lustful queen.” + +There mark’d I Helen, for whose sake so long +The time was fraught with evil; there the great +Achilles, who with love fought to the end. +Paris I saw, and Tristan; and beside +A thousand more he show’d me, and by name +Pointed them out, whom love bereav’d of life. + +When I had heard my sage instructor name +Those dames and knights of antique days, o’erpower’d +By pity, well-nigh in amaze my mind +Was lost; and I began: “Bard! willingly +I would address those two together coming, +Which seem so light before the wind.” He thus: +“Note thou, when nearer they to us approach.” + +“Then by that love which carries them along, +Entreat; and they will come.” Soon as the wind +Sway’d them toward us, I thus fram’d my speech: +“O wearied spirits! come, and hold discourse +With us, if by none else restrain’d.” As doves +By fond desire invited, on wide wings +And firm, to their sweet nest returning home, +Cleave the air, wafted by their will along; +Thus issu’d from that troop, where Dido ranks, +They through the ill air speeding; with such force +My cry prevail’d by strong affection urg’d. + +“O gracious creature and benign! who go’st +Visiting, through this element obscure, +Us, who the world with bloody stain imbru’d; +If for a friend the King of all we own’d, +Our pray’r to him should for thy peace arise, +Since thou hast pity on our evil plight. +()f whatsoe’er to hear or to discourse +It pleases thee, that will we hear, of that +Freely with thee discourse, while e’er the wind, +As now, is mute. The land, that gave me birth, +Is situate on the coast, where Po descends +To rest in ocean with his sequent streams. + +“Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt, +Entangled him by that fair form, from me +Ta’en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still: +Love, that denial takes from none belov’d, +Caught me with pleasing him so passing well, +That, as thou see’st, he yet deserts me not. + +“Love brought us to one death: Caina waits +The soul, who spilt our life.” Such were their words; +At hearing which downward I bent my looks, +And held them there so long, that the bard cried: +“What art thou pond’ring?” I in answer thus: +“Alas! by what sweet thoughts, what fond desire +Must they at length to that ill pass have reach’d!” + +Then turning, I to them my speech address’d. +And thus began: “Francesca! your sad fate +Even to tears my grief and pity moves. +But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs, +By what, and how love granted, that ye knew +Your yet uncertain wishes?” She replied: +“No greater grief than to remember days +Of joy, when mis’ry is at hand! That kens +Thy learn’d instructor. Yet so eagerly +If thou art bent to know the primal root, +From whence our love gat being, I will do, +As one, who weeps and tells his tale. One day +For our delight we read of Lancelot, +How him love thrall’d. Alone we were, and no +Suspicion near us. Ofttimes by that reading +Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue +Fled from our alter’d cheek. But at one point +Alone we fell. When of that smile we read, +The wished smile, rapturously kiss’d +By one so deep in love, then he, who ne’er +From me shall separate, at once my lips +All trembling kiss’d. The book and writer both +Were love’s purveyors. In its leaves that day +We read no more.” While thus one spirit spake, +The other wail’d so sorely, that heartstruck +I through compassion fainting, seem’d not far +From death, and like a corpse fell to the ground. + + + + +CANTO VI + + +My sense reviving, that erewhile had droop’d +With pity for the kindred shades, whence grief +O’ercame me wholly, straight around I see +New torments, new tormented souls, which way +Soe’er I move, or turn, or bend my sight. +In the third circle I arrive, of show’rs +Ceaseless, accursed, heavy, and cold, unchang’d +For ever, both in kind and in degree. +Large hail, discolour’d water, sleety flaw +Through the dun midnight air stream’d down amain: +Stank all the land whereon that tempest fell. + +Cerberus, cruel monster, fierce and strange, +Through his wide threefold throat barks as a dog +Over the multitude immers’d beneath. +His eyes glare crimson, black his unctuous beard, +His belly large, and claw’d the hands, with which +He tears the spirits, flays them, and their limbs +Piecemeal disparts. Howling there spread, as curs, +Under the rainy deluge, with one side +The other screening, oft they roll them round, +A wretched, godless crew. When that great worm +Descried us, savage Cerberus, he op’d +His jaws, and the fangs show’d us; not a limb +Of him but trembled. Then my guide, his palms +Expanding on the ground, thence filled with earth +Rais’d them, and cast it in his ravenous maw. + +E’en as a dog, that yelling bays for food +His keeper, when the morsel comes, lets fall +His fury, bent alone with eager haste +To swallow it; so dropp’d the loathsome cheeks +Of demon Cerberus, who thund’ring stuns +The spirits, that they for deafness wish in vain. + +We, o’er the shades thrown prostrate by the brunt +Of the heavy tempest passing, set our feet +Upon their emptiness, that substance seem’d. + +They all along the earth extended lay +Save one, that sudden rais’d himself to sit, +Soon as that way he saw us pass. “O thou!” +He cried, “who through the infernal shades art led, +Own, if again thou know’st me. Thou wast fram’d +Or ere my frame was broken.” I replied: +“The anguish thou endur’st perchance so takes +Thy form from my remembrance, that it seems +As if I saw thee never. But inform +Me who thou art, that in a place so sad +Art set, and in such torment, that although +Other be greater, more disgustful none +Can be imagin’d.” He in answer thus: + +“Thy city heap’d with envy to the brim, +Ay that the measure overflows its bounds, +Held me in brighter days. Ye citizens +Were wont to name me Ciacco. For the sin +Of glutt’ny, damned vice, beneath this rain, +E’en as thou see’st, I with fatigue am worn; +Nor I sole spirit in this woe: all these +Have by like crime incurr’d like punishment.” + +No more he said, and I my speech resum’d: +“Ciacco! thy dire affliction grieves me much, +Even to tears. But tell me, if thou know’st, +What shall at length befall the citizens +Of the divided city; whether any just one +Inhabit there: and tell me of the cause, +Whence jarring discord hath assail’d it thus?” + +He then: “After long striving they will come +To blood; and the wild party from the woods +Will chase the other with much injury forth. +Then it behoves, that this must fall, within +Three solar circles; and the other rise +By borrow’d force of one, who under shore +Now rests. It shall a long space hold aloof +Its forehead, keeping under heavy weight +The other oppress’d, indignant at the load, +And grieving sore. The just are two in number, +But they neglected. Av’rice, envy, pride, +Three fatal sparks, have set the hearts of all +On fire.” Here ceas’d the lamentable sound; +And I continu’d thus: “Still would I learn +More from thee, farther parley still entreat. +Of Farinata and Tegghiaio say, +They who so well deserv’d, of Giacopo, +Arrigo, Mosca, and the rest, who bent +Their minds on working good. Oh! tell me where +They bide, and to their knowledge let me come. +For I am press’d with keen desire to hear, +If heaven’s sweet cup or poisonous drug of hell +Be to their lip assign’d.” He answer’d straight: +“These are yet blacker spirits. Various crimes +Have sunk them deeper in the dark abyss. +If thou so far descendest, thou mayst see them. +But to the pleasant world when thou return’st, +Of me make mention, I entreat thee, there. +No more I tell thee, answer thee no more.” + +This said, his fixed eyes he turn’d askance, +A little ey’d me, then bent down his head, +And ’midst his blind companions with it fell. + +When thus my guide: “No more his bed he leaves, +Ere the last angel-trumpet blow. The Power +Adverse to these shall then in glory come, +Each one forthwith to his sad tomb repair, +Resume his fleshly vesture and his form, +And hear the eternal doom re-echoing rend +The vault.” So pass’d we through that mixture foul +Of spirits and rain, with tardy steps; meanwhile +Touching, though slightly, on the life to come. +For thus I question’d: “Shall these tortures, Sir! +When the great sentence passes, be increas’d, +Or mitigated, or as now severe?” + +He then: “Consult thy knowledge; that decides +That as each thing to more perfection grows, +It feels more sensibly both good and pain. +Though ne’er to true perfection may arrive +This race accurs’d, yet nearer then than now +They shall approach it.” Compassing that path +Circuitous we journeyed, and discourse +Much more than I relate between us pass’d: +Till at the point, where the steps led below, +Arriv’d, there Plutus, the great foe, we found. + + + + +CANTO VII + + +“Ah me! O Satan! Satan!” loud exclaim’d +Plutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm: +And the kind sage, whom no event surpris’d, +To comfort me thus spake: “Let not thy fear +Harm thee, for power in him, be sure, is none +To hinder down this rock thy safe descent.” +Then to that sworn lip turning, “Peace!” he cried, + +“Curs’d wolf! thy fury inward on thyself +Prey, and consume thee! Through the dark profound +Not without cause he passes. So ’t is will’d +On high, there where the great Archangel pour’d +Heav’n’s vengeance on the first adulterer proud.” + +As sails full spread and bellying with the wind +Drop suddenly collaps’d, if the mast split; +So to the ground down dropp’d the cruel fiend. + +Thus we, descending to the fourth steep ledge, +Gain’d on the dismal shore, that all the woe +Hems in of all the universe. Ah me! +Almighty Justice! in what store thou heap’st +New pains, new troubles, as I here beheld! +Wherefore doth fault of ours bring us to this? + +E’en as a billow, on Charybdis rising, +Against encounter’d billow dashing breaks; +Such is the dance this wretched race must lead, +Whom more than elsewhere numerous here I found, +From one side and the other, with loud voice, +Both roll’d on weights by main forge of their breasts, +Then smote together, and each one forthwith +Roll’d them back voluble, turning again, +Exclaiming these, “Why holdest thou so fast?” +Those answering, “And why castest thou away?” +So still repeating their despiteful song, +They to the opposite point on either hand +Travers’d the horrid circle: then arriv’d, +Both turn’d them round, and through the middle space +Conflicting met again. At sight whereof +I, stung with grief, thus spake: “O say, my guide! +What race is this? Were these, whose heads are shorn, +On our left hand, all sep’rate to the church?” + +He straight replied: “In their first life these all +In mind were so distorted, that they made, +According to due measure, of their wealth, +No use. This clearly from their words collect, +Which they howl forth, at each extremity +Arriving of the circle, where their crime +Contrary’ in kind disparts them. To the church +Were separate those, that with no hairy cowls +Are crown’d, both Popes and Cardinals, o’er whom +Av’rice dominion absolute maintains.” + +I then: “Mid such as these some needs must be, +Whom I shall recognize, that with the blot +Of these foul sins were stain’d.” He answering thus: +“Vain thought conceiv’st thou. That ignoble life, +Which made them vile before, now makes them dark, +And to all knowledge indiscernible. +Forever they shall meet in this rude shock: +These from the tomb with clenched grasp shall rise, +Those with close-shaven locks. That ill they gave, +And ill they kept, hath of the beauteous world +Depriv’d, and set them at this strife, which needs +No labour’d phrase of mine to set if off. +Now may’st thou see, my son! how brief, how vain, +The goods committed into fortune’s hands, +For which the human race keep such a coil! +Not all the gold, that is beneath the moon, +Or ever hath been, of these toil-worn souls +Might purchase rest for one.” I thus rejoin’d: + +“My guide! of thee this also would I learn; +This fortune, that thou speak’st of, what it is, +Whose talons grasp the blessings of the world?” + +He thus: “O beings blind! what ignorance +Besets you? Now my judgment hear and mark. +He, whose transcendent wisdom passes all, +The heavens creating, gave them ruling powers +To guide them, so that each part shines to each, +Their light in equal distribution pour’d. +By similar appointment he ordain’d +Over the world’s bright images to rule. +Superintendence of a guiding hand +And general minister, which at due time +May change the empty vantages of life +From race to race, from one to other’s blood, +Beyond prevention of man’s wisest care: +Wherefore one nation rises into sway, +Another languishes, e’en as her will +Decrees, from us conceal’d, as in the grass +The serpent train. Against her nought avails +Your utmost wisdom. She with foresight plans, +Judges, and carries on her reign, as theirs +The other powers divine. Her changes know +Nore intermission: by necessity +She is made swift, so frequent come who claim +Succession in her favours. This is she, +So execrated e’en by those, whose debt +To her is rather praise; they wrongfully +With blame requite her, and with evil word; +But she is blessed, and for that recks not: +Amidst the other primal beings glad +Rolls on her sphere, and in her bliss exults. +Now on our way pass we, to heavier woe +Descending: for each star is falling now, +That mounted at our entrance, and forbids +Too long our tarrying.” We the circle cross’d +To the next steep, arriving at a well, +That boiling pours itself down to a foss +Sluic’d from its source. Far murkier was the wave +Than sablest grain: and we in company +Of the’ inky waters, journeying by their side, +Enter’d, though by a different track, beneath. +Into a lake, the Stygian nam’d, expands +The dismal stream, when it hath reach’d the foot +Of the grey wither’d cliffs. Intent I stood +To gaze, and in the marish sunk descried +A miry tribe, all naked, and with looks +Betok’ning rage. They with their hands alone +Struck not, but with the head, the breast, the feet, +Cutting each other piecemeal with their fangs. + +The good instructor spake; “Now seest thou, son! +The souls of those, whom anger overcame. +This too for certain know, that underneath +The water dwells a multitude, whose sighs +Into these bubbles make the surface heave, +As thine eye tells thee wheresoe’er it turn.” +Fix’d in the slime they say: “Sad once were we +In the sweet air made gladsome by the sun, +Carrying a foul and lazy mist within: +Now in these murky settlings are we sad.” +Such dolorous strain they gurgle in their throats. +But word distinct can utter none.” Our route +Thus compass’d we, a segment widely stretch’d +Between the dry embankment, and the core +Of the loath’d pool, turning meanwhile our eyes +Downward on those who gulp’d its muddy lees; +Nor stopp’d, till to a tower’s low base we came. + + + + +CANTO VIII + + +My theme pursuing, I relate that ere +We reach’d the lofty turret’s base, our eyes +Its height ascended, where two cressets hung +We mark’d, and from afar another light +Return the signal, so remote, that scarce +The eye could catch its beam. I turning round +To the deep source of knowledge, thus inquir’d: +“Say what this means? and what that other light +In answer set? what agency doth this?” + +“There on the filthy waters,” he replied, +“E’en now what next awaits us mayst thou see, +If the marsh-gender’d fog conceal it not.” + +Never was arrow from the cord dismiss’d, +That ran its way so nimbly through the air, +As a small bark, that through the waves I spied +Toward us coming, under the sole sway +Of one that ferried it, who cried aloud: +“Art thou arriv’d, fell spirit?”—“Phlegyas, Phlegyas, +This time thou criest in vain,” my lord replied; +“No longer shalt thou have us, but while o’er +The slimy pool we pass.” As one who hears +Of some great wrong he hath sustain’d, whereat +Inly he pines; so Phlegyas inly pin’d +In his fierce ire. My guide descending stepp’d +Into the skiff, and bade me enter next +Close at his side; nor till my entrance seem’d +The vessel freighted. Soon as both embark’d, +Cutting the waves, goes on the ancient prow, +More deeply than with others it is wont. + +While we our course o’er the dead channel held. +One drench’d in mire before me came, and said; +“Who art thou, that thou comest ere thine hour?” + +I answer’d: “Though I come, I tarry not; +But who art thou, that art become so foul?” + +“One, as thou seest, who mourn:” he straight replied. + +To which I thus: “In mourning and in woe, +Curs’d spirit! tarry thou.g I know thee well, +E’en thus in filth disguis’d.” Then stretch’d he forth +Hands to the bark; whereof my teacher sage +Aware, thrusting him back: “Away! down there; + +“To the’ other dogs!” then, with his arms my neck +Encircling, kiss’d my cheek, and spake: “O soul +Justly disdainful! blest was she in whom +Thou was conceiv’d! He in the world was one +For arrogance noted; to his memory +No virtue lends its lustre; even so +Here is his shadow furious. There above +How many now hold themselves mighty kings +Who here like swine shall wallow in the mire, +Leaving behind them horrible dispraise!” + +I then: “Master! him fain would I behold +Whelm’d in these dregs, before we quit the lake.” + +He thus: “Or ever to thy view the shore +Be offer’d, satisfied shall be that wish, +Which well deserves completion.” Scarce his words +Were ended, when I saw the miry tribes +Set on him with such violence, that yet +For that render I thanks to God and praise +“To Filippo Argenti:” cried they all: +And on himself the moody Florentine +Turn’d his avenging fangs. Him here we left, +Nor speak I of him more. But on mine ear +Sudden a sound of lamentation smote, +Whereat mine eye unbarr’d I sent abroad. + +And thus the good instructor: “Now, my son! +Draws near the city, that of Dis is nam’d, +With its grave denizens, a mighty throng.” + +I thus: “The minarets already, Sir! +There certes in the valley I descry, +Gleaming vermilion, as if they from fire +Had issu’d.” He replied: “Eternal fire, +That inward burns, shows them with ruddy flame +Illum’d; as in this nether hell thou seest.” + +We came within the fosses deep, that moat +This region comfortless. The walls appear’d +As they were fram’d of iron. We had made +Wide circuit, ere a place we reach’d, where loud +The mariner cried vehement: “Go forth! +The’ entrance is here!” Upon the gates I spied +More than a thousand, who of old from heaven +Were hurl’d. With ireful gestures, “Who is this,” +They cried, “that without death first felt, goes through +The regions of the dead?” My sapient guide +Made sign that he for secret parley wish’d; +Whereat their angry scorn abating, thus +They spake: “Come thou alone; and let him go +Who hath so hardily enter’d this realm. +Alone return he by his witless way; +If well he know it, let him prove. For thee, +Here shalt thou tarry, who through clime so dark +Hast been his escort.” Now bethink thee, reader! +What cheer was mine at sound of those curs’d words. +I did believe I never should return. + +“O my lov’d guide! who more than seven times +Security hast render’d me, and drawn +From peril deep, whereto I stood expos’d, +Desert me not,” I cried, “in this extreme. +And if our onward going be denied, +Together trace we back our steps with speed.” + +My liege, who thither had conducted me, +Replied: “Fear not: for of our passage none +Hath power to disappoint us, by such high +Authority permitted. But do thou +Expect me here; meanwhile thy wearied spirit +Comfort, and feed with kindly hope, assur’d +I will not leave thee in this lower world.” + +This said, departs the sire benevolent, +And quits me. Hesitating I remain +At war ’twixt will and will not in my thoughts. + +I could not hear what terms he offer’d them, +But they conferr’d not long, for all at once +To trial fled within. Clos’d were the gates +By those our adversaries on the breast +Of my liege lord: excluded he return’d +To me with tardy steps. Upon the ground +His eyes were bent, and from his brow eras’d +All confidence, while thus with sighs he spake: +“Who hath denied me these abodes of woe?” +Then thus to me: “That I am anger’d, think +No ground of terror: in this trial I +Shall vanquish, use what arts they may within +For hindrance. This their insolence, not new, +Erewhile at gate less secret they display’d, +Which still is without bolt; upon its arch +Thou saw’st the deadly scroll: and even now +On this side of its entrance, down the steep, +Passing the circles, unescorted, comes +One whose strong might can open us this land.” + + + + +CANTO IX + + +The hue, which coward dread on my pale cheeks +Imprinted, when I saw my guide turn back, +Chas’d that from his which newly they had worn, +And inwardly restrain’d it. He, as one +Who listens, stood attentive: for his eye +Not far could lead him through the sable air, +And the thick-gath’ring cloud. “It yet behooves +We win this fight”—thus he began—“if not— +Such aid to us is offer’d.—Oh, how long +Me seems it, ere the promis’d help arrive!” + +I noted, how the sequel of his words +Clok’d their beginning; for the last he spake +Agreed not with the first. But not the less +My fear was at his saying; sith I drew +To import worse perchance, than that he held, +His mutilated speech. “Doth ever any +Into this rueful concave’s extreme depth +Descend, out of the first degree, whose pain +Is deprivation merely of sweet hope?” + +Thus I inquiring. “Rarely,” he replied, +“It chances, that among us any makes +This journey, which I wend. Erewhile ’tis true +Once came I here beneath, conjur’d by fell +Erictho, sorceress, who compell’d the shades +Back to their bodies. No long space my flesh +Was naked of me, when within these walls +She made me enter, to draw forth a spirit +From out of Judas’ circle. Lowest place +Is that of all, obscurest, and remov’d +Farthest from heav’n’s all-circling orb. The road +Full well I know: thou therefore rest secure. +That lake, the noisome stench exhaling, round +The city’ of grief encompasses, which now +We may not enter without rage.” Yet more +He added: but I hold it not in mind, +For that mine eye toward the lofty tower +Had drawn me wholly, to its burning top. +Where in an instant I beheld uprisen +At once three hellish furies stain’d with blood: +In limb and motion feminine they seem’d; +Around them greenest hydras twisting roll’d +Their volumes; adders and cerastes crept +Instead of hair, and their fierce temples bound. + +He knowing well the miserable hags +Who tend the queen of endless woe, thus spake: + +“Mark thou each dire Erinnys. To the left +This is Megaera; on the right hand she, +Who wails, Alecto; and Tisiphone +I’ th’ midst.” This said, in silence he remain’d +Their breast they each one clawing tore; themselves +Smote with their palms, and such shrill clamour rais’d, +That to the bard I clung, suspicion-bound. +“Hasten Medusa: so to adamant +Him shall we change;” all looking down exclaim’d. +“E’en when by Theseus’ might assail’d, we took +No ill revenge.” “Turn thyself round, and keep +Thy count’nance hid; for if the Gorgon dire +Be shown, and thou shouldst view it, thy return +Upwards would be for ever lost.” This said, +Himself my gentle master turn’d me round, +Nor trusted he my hands, but with his own +He also hid me. Ye of intellect +Sound and entire, mark well the lore conceal’d +Under close texture of the mystic strain! + +And now there came o’er the perturbed waves +Loud-crashing, terrible, a sound that made +Either shore tremble, as if of a wind +Impetuous, from conflicting vapours sprung, +That ’gainst some forest driving all its might, +Plucks off the branches, beats them down and hurls +Afar; then onward passing proudly sweeps +Its whirlwind rage, while beasts and shepherds fly. + +Mine eyes he loos’d, and spake: “And now direct +Thy visual nerve along that ancient foam, +There, thickest where the smoke ascends.” As frogs +Before their foe the serpent, through the wave +Ply swiftly all, till at the ground each one +Lies on a heap; more than a thousand spirits +Destroy’d, so saw I fleeing before one +Who pass’d with unwet feet the Stygian sound. +He, from his face removing the gross air, +Oft his left hand forth stretch’d, and seem’d alone +By that annoyance wearied. I perceiv’d +That he was sent from heav’n, and to my guide +Turn’d me, who signal made that I should stand +Quiet, and bend to him. Ah me! how full +Of noble anger seem’d he! To the gate +He came, and with his wand touch’d it, whereat +Open without impediment it flew. + +“Outcasts of heav’n! O abject race and scorn’d!” +Began he on the horrid grunsel standing, +“Whence doth this wild excess of insolence +Lodge in you? wherefore kick you ’gainst that will +Ne’er frustrate of its end, and which so oft +Hath laid on you enforcement of your pangs? +What profits at the fays to but the horn? +Your Cerberus, if ye remember, hence +Bears still, peel’d of their hair, his throat and maw.” + +This said, he turn’d back o’er the filthy way, +And syllable to us spake none, but wore +The semblance of a man by other care +Beset, and keenly press’d, than thought of him +Who in his presence stands. Then we our steps +Toward that territory mov’d, secure +After the hallow’d words. We unoppos’d +There enter’d; and my mind eager to learn +What state a fortress like to that might hold, +I soon as enter’d throw mine eye around, +And see on every part wide-stretching space +Replete with bitter pain and torment ill. + +As where Rhone stagnates on the plains of Arles, +Or as at Pola, near Quarnaro’s gulf, +That closes Italy and laves her bounds, +The place is all thick spread with sepulchres; +So was it here, save what in horror here +Excell’d: for ’midst the graves were scattered flames, +Wherewith intensely all throughout they burn’d, +That iron for no craft there hotter needs. + +Their lids all hung suspended, and beneath +From them forth issu’d lamentable moans, +Such as the sad and tortur’d well might raise. + +I thus: “Master! say who are these, interr’d +Within these vaults, of whom distinct we hear +The dolorous sighs?” He answer thus return’d: + +“The arch-heretics are here, accompanied +By every sect their followers; and much more, +Than thou believest, tombs are freighted: like +With like is buried; and the monuments +Are different in degrees of heat.” This said, +He to the right hand turning, on we pass’d +Betwixt the afflicted and the ramparts high. + + + + +CANTO X + + +Now by a secret pathway we proceed, +Between the walls, that hem the region round, +And the tormented souls: my master first, +I close behind his steps. “Virtue supreme!” +I thus began; “who through these ample orbs +In circuit lead’st me, even as thou will’st, +Speak thou, and satisfy my wish. May those, +Who lie within these sepulchres, be seen? +Already all the lids are rais’d, and none +O’er them keeps watch.” He thus in answer spake +“They shall be closed all, what-time they here +From Josaphat return’d shall come, and bring +Their bodies, which above they now have left. +The cemetery on this part obtain +With Epicurus all his followers, +Who with the body make the spirit die. +Here therefore satisfaction shall be soon +Both to the question ask’d, and to the wish, +Which thou conceal’st in silence.” I replied: +“I keep not, guide belov’d! from thee my heart +Secreted, but to shun vain length of words, +A lesson erewhile taught me by thyself.” + +“O Tuscan! thou who through the city of fire +Alive art passing, so discreet of speech! +Here please thee stay awhile. Thy utterance +Declares the place of thy nativity +To be that noble land, with which perchance +I too severely dealt.” Sudden that sound +Forth issu’d from a vault, whereat in fear +I somewhat closer to my leader’s side +Approaching, he thus spake: “What dost thou? Turn. +Lo, Farinata, there! who hath himself +Uplifted: from his girdle upwards all +Expos’d behold him.” On his face was mine +Already fix’d; his breast and forehead there +Erecting, seem’d as in high scorn he held +E’en hell. Between the sepulchres to him +My guide thrust me with fearless hands and prompt, +This warning added: “See thy words be clear!” + +He, soon as there I stood at the tomb’s foot, +Ey’d me a space, then in disdainful mood +Address’d me: “Say, what ancestors were thine?” + +I, willing to obey him, straight reveal’d +The whole, nor kept back aught: whence he, his brow +Somewhat uplifting, cried: “Fiercely were they +Adverse to me, my party, and the blood +From whence I sprang: twice therefore I abroad +Scatter’d them.” “Though driv’n out, yet they each time +From all parts,” answer’d I, “return’d; an art +Which yours have shown, they are not skill’d to learn.” + +Then, peering forth from the unclosed jaw, +Rose from his side a shade, high as the chin, +Leaning, methought, upon its knees uprais’d. +It look’d around, as eager to explore +If there were other with me; but perceiving +That fond imagination quench’d, with tears +Thus spake: “If thou through this blind prison go’st. +Led by thy lofty genius and profound, +Where is my son? and wherefore not with thee?” + +I straight replied: “Not of myself I come, +By him, who there expects me, through this clime +Conducted, whom perchance Guido thy son +Had in contempt.” Already had his words +And mode of punishment read me his name, +Whence I so fully answer’d. He at once +Exclaim’d, up starting, “How! said’st thou he HAD? +No longer lives he? Strikes not on his eye +The blessed daylight?” Then of some delay +I made ere my reply aware, down fell +Supine, not after forth appear’d he more. + +Meanwhile the other, great of soul, near whom +I yet was station’d, chang’d not count’nance stern, +Nor mov’d the neck, nor bent his ribbed side. +“And if,” continuing the first discourse, +“They in this art,” he cried, “small skill have shown, +That doth torment me more e’en than this bed. +But not yet fifty times shall be relum’d +Her aspect, who reigns here Queen of this realm, +Ere thou shalt know the full weight of that art. +So to the pleasant world mayst thou return, +As thou shalt tell me, why in all their laws, +Against my kin this people is so fell?” + +“The slaughter and great havoc,” I replied, +“That colour’d Arbia’s flood with crimson stain— +To these impute, that in our hallow’d dome +Such orisons ascend.” Sighing he shook +The head, then thus resum’d: “In that affray +I stood not singly, nor without just cause +Assuredly should with the rest have stirr’d; +But singly there I stood, when by consent +Of all, Florence had to the ground been raz’d, +The one who openly forbad the deed.” + +“So may thy lineage find at last repose,” +I thus adjur’d him, “as thou solve this knot, +Which now involves my mind. If right I hear, +Ye seem to view beforehand, that which time +Leads with him, of the present uninform’d.” + +“We view, as one who hath an evil sight,” +He answer’d, “plainly, objects far remote: +So much of his large spendour yet imparts +The’ Almighty Ruler; but when they approach +Or actually exist, our intellect +Then wholly fails, nor of your human state +Except what others bring us know we aught. +Hence therefore mayst thou understand, that all +Our knowledge in that instant shall expire, +When on futurity the portals close.” + +Then conscious of my fault, and by remorse +Smitten, I added thus: “Now shalt thou say +To him there fallen, that his offspring still +Is to the living join’d; and bid him know, +That if from answer silent I abstain’d, +’Twas that my thought was occupied intent +Upon that error, which thy help hath solv’d.” + +But now my master summoning me back +I heard, and with more eager haste besought +The spirit to inform me, who with him +Partook his lot. He answer thus return’d: + +“More than a thousand with me here are laid +Within is Frederick, second of that name, +And the Lord Cardinal, and of the rest +I speak not.” He, this said, from sight withdrew. +But I my steps towards the ancient bard +Reverting, ruminated on the words +Betokening me such ill. Onward he mov’d, +And thus in going question’d: “Whence the’ amaze +That holds thy senses wrapt?” I satisfied +The’ inquiry, and the sage enjoin’d me straight: +“Let thy safe memory store what thou hast heard +To thee importing harm; and note thou this,” +With his rais’d finger bidding me take heed, + +“When thou shalt stand before her gracious beam, +Whose bright eye all surveys, she of thy life +The future tenour will to thee unfold.” + +Forthwith he to the left hand turn’d his feet: +We left the wall, and tow’rds the middle space +Went by a path, that to a valley strikes; +Which e’en thus high exhal’d its noisome steam. + + + + +CANTO XI + + +Upon the utmost verge of a high bank, +By craggy rocks environ’d round, we came, +Where woes beneath more cruel yet were stow’d: +And here to shun the horrible excess +Of fetid exhalation, upward cast +From the profound abyss, behind the lid +Of a great monument we stood retir’d, + +Whereon this scroll I mark’d: “I have in charge +Pope Anastasius, whom Photinus drew +From the right path.—Ere our descent behooves +We make delay, that somewhat first the sense, +To the dire breath accustom’d, afterward +Regard it not.” My master thus; to whom +Answering I spake: “Some compensation find +That the time past not wholly lost.” He then: +“Lo! how my thoughts e’en to thy wishes tend! +My son! within these rocks,” he thus began, +“Are three close circles in gradation plac’d, +As these which now thou leav’st. Each one is full +Of spirits accurs’d; but that the sight alone +Hereafter may suffice thee, listen how +And for what cause in durance they abide. + +“Of all malicious act abhorr’d in heaven, +The end is injury; and all such end +Either by force or fraud works other’s woe +But fraud, because of man peculiar evil, +To God is more displeasing; and beneath +The fraudulent are therefore doom’d to’ endure +Severer pang. The violent occupy +All the first circle; and because to force +Three persons are obnoxious, in three rounds +Hach within other sep’rate is it fram’d. +To God, his neighbour, and himself, by man +Force may be offer’d; to himself I say +And his possessions, as thou soon shalt hear +At full. Death, violent death, and painful wounds +Upon his neighbour he inflicts; and wastes +By devastation, pillage, and the flames, +His substance. Slayers, and each one that smites +In malice, plund’rers, and all robbers, hence +The torment undergo of the first round +In different herds. Man can do violence +To himself and his own blessings: and for this +He in the second round must aye deplore +With unavailing penitence his crime, +Whoe’er deprives himself of life and light, +In reckless lavishment his talent wastes, +And sorrows there where he should dwell in joy. +To God may force be offer’d, in the heart +Denying and blaspheming his high power, +And nature with her kindly law contemning. +And thence the inmost round marks with its seal +Sodom and Cahors, and all such as speak +Contemptuously’ of the Godhead in their hearts. + +“Fraud, that in every conscience leaves a sting, +May be by man employ’d on one, whose trust +He wins, or on another who withholds +Strict confidence. Seems as the latter way +Broke but the bond of love which Nature makes. +Whence in the second circle have their nest +Dissimulation, witchcraft, flatteries, +Theft, falsehood, simony, all who seduce +To lust, or set their honesty at pawn, +With such vile scum as these. The other way +Forgets both Nature’s general love, and that +Which thereto added afterwards gives birth +To special faith. Whence in the lesser circle, +Point of the universe, dread seat of Dis, +The traitor is eternally consum’d.” + +I thus: “Instructor, clearly thy discourse +Proceeds, distinguishing the hideous chasm +And its inhabitants with skill exact. +But tell me this: they of the dull, fat pool, +Whom the rain beats, or whom the tempest drives, +Or who with tongues so fierce conflicting meet, +Wherefore within the city fire-illum’d +Are not these punish’d, if God’s wrath be on them? +And if it be not, wherefore in such guise +Are they condemned?” He answer thus return’d: +“Wherefore in dotage wanders thus thy mind, +Not so accustom’d? or what other thoughts +Possess it? Dwell not in thy memory +The words, wherein thy ethic page describes +Three dispositions adverse to Heav’n’s will, +Incont’nence, malice, and mad brutishness, +And how incontinence the least offends +God, and least guilt incurs? If well thou note +This judgment, and remember who they are, +Without these walls to vain repentance doom’d, +Thou shalt discern why they apart are plac’d +From these fell spirits, and less wreakful pours +Justice divine on them its vengeance down.” + +“O Sun! who healest all imperfect sight, +Thou so content’st me, when thou solv’st my doubt, +That ignorance not less than knowledge charms. +Yet somewhat turn thee back,” I in these words +Continu’d, “where thou saidst, that usury +Offends celestial Goodness; and this knot +Perplex’d unravel.” He thus made reply: +“Philosophy, to an attentive ear, +Clearly points out, not in one part alone, +How imitative nature takes her course +From the celestial mind and from its art: +And where her laws the Stagyrite unfolds, +Not many leaves scann’d o’er, observing well +Thou shalt discover, that your art on her +Obsequious follows, as the learner treads +In his instructor’s step, so that your art +Deserves the name of second in descent +From God. These two, if thou recall to mind +Creation’s holy book, from the beginning +Were the right source of life and excellence +To human kind. But in another path +The usurer walks; and Nature in herself +And in her follower thus he sets at nought, +Placing elsewhere his hope. But follow now +My steps on forward journey bent; for now +The Pisces play with undulating glance +Along the’ horizon, and the Wain lies all +O’er the north-west; and onward there a space +Is our steep passage down the rocky height.” + + + + +CANTO XII + + +The place where to descend the precipice +We came, was rough as Alp, and on its verge +Such object lay, as every eye would shun. + +As is that ruin, which Adice’s stream +On this side Trento struck, should’ring the wave, +Or loos’d by earthquake or for lack of prop; +For from the mountain’s summit, whence it mov’d +To the low level, so the headlong rock +Is shiver’d, that some passage it might give +To him who from above would pass; e’en such +Into the chasm was that descent: and there +At point of the disparted ridge lay stretch’d +The infamy of Crete, detested brood +Of the feign’d heifer: and at sight of us +It gnaw’d itself, as one with rage distract. + +To him my guide exclaim’d: “Perchance thou deem’st +The King of Athens here, who, in the world +Above, thy death contriv’d. Monster! avaunt! +He comes not tutor’d by thy sister’s art, +But to behold your torments is he come.” + +Like to a bull, that with impetuous spring +Darts, at the moment when the fatal blow +Hath struck him, but unable to proceed +Plunges on either side; so saw I plunge +The Minotaur; whereat the sage exclaim’d: +“Run to the passage! while he storms, ’t is well +That thou descend.” Thus down our road we took +Through those dilapidated crags, that oft +Mov’d underneath my feet, to weight like theirs +Unus’d. I pond’ring went, and thus he spake: + +“Perhaps thy thoughts are of this ruin’d steep, +Guarded by the brute violence, which I +Have vanquish’d now. Know then, that when I erst +Hither descended to the nether hell, +This rock was not yet fallen. But past doubt +(If well I mark) not long ere He arrived, +Who carried off from Dis the mighty spoil +Of the highest circle, then through all its bounds +Such trembling seiz’d the deep concave and foul, +I thought the universe was thrill’d with love, +Whereby, there are who deem, the world hath oft +Been into chaos turn’d: and in that point, +Here, and elsewhere, that old rock toppled down. +But fix thine eyes beneath: the river of blood +Approaches, in the which all those are steep’d, +Who have by violence injur’d.” O blind lust! +O foolish wrath! who so dost goad us on +In the brief life, and in the eternal then +Thus miserably o’erwhelm us. I beheld +An ample foss, that in a bow was bent, +As circling all the plain; for so my guide +Had told. Between it and the rampart’s base +On trail ran Centaurs, with keen arrows arm’d, +As to the chase they on the earth were wont. + +At seeing us descend they each one stood; +And issuing from the troop, three sped with bows +And missile weapons chosen first; of whom +One cried from far: “Say to what pain ye come +Condemn’d, who down this steep have journied? Speak +From whence ye stand, or else the bow I draw.” + +To whom my guide: “Our answer shall be made +To Chiron, there, when nearer him we come. +Ill was thy mind, thus ever quick and rash.” + +Then me he touch’d, and spake: “Nessus is this, +Who for the fair Deianira died, +And wrought himself revenge for his own fate. +He in the midst, that on his breast looks down, +Is the great Chiron who Achilles nurs’d; +That other Pholus, prone to wrath.” Around +The foss these go by thousands, aiming shafts +At whatsoever spirit dares emerge +From out the blood, more than his guilt allows. + +We to those beasts, that rapid strode along, +Drew near, when Chiron took an arrow forth, +And with the notch push’d back his shaggy beard +To the cheek-bone, then his great mouth to view +Exposing, to his fellows thus exclaim’d: +“Are ye aware, that he who comes behind +Moves what he touches? The feet of the dead +Are not so wont.” My trusty guide, who now +Stood near his breast, where the two natures join, +Thus made reply: “He is indeed alive, +And solitary so must needs by me +Be shown the gloomy vale, thereto induc’d +By strict necessity, not by delight. +She left her joyful harpings in the sky, +Who this new office to my care consign’d. +He is no robber, no dark spirit I. +But by that virtue, which empowers my step +To treat so wild a path, grant us, I pray, +One of thy band, whom we may trust secure, +Who to the ford may lead us, and convey +Across, him mounted on his back; for he +Is not a spirit that may walk the air.” + +Then on his right breast turning, Chiron thus +To Nessus spake: “Return, and be their guide. +And if ye chance to cross another troop, +Command them keep aloof.” Onward we mov’d, +The faithful escort by our side, along +The border of the crimson-seething flood, +Whence from those steep’d within loud shrieks arose. + +Some there I mark’d, as high as to their brow +Immers’d, of whom the mighty Centaur thus: +“These are the souls of tyrants, who were given +To blood and rapine. Here they wail aloud +Their merciless wrongs. Here Alexander dwells, +And Dionysius fell, who many a year +Of woe wrought for fair Sicily. That brow +Whereon the hair so jetty clust’ring hangs, +Is Azzolino; that with flaxen locks +Obizzo’ of Este, in the world destroy’d +By his foul step-son.” To the bard rever’d +I turned me round, and thus he spake; “Let him +Be to thee now first leader, me but next +To him in rank.” Then farther on a space +The Centaur paus’d, near some, who at the throat +Were extant from the wave; and showing us +A spirit by itself apart retir’d, +Exclaim’d: “He in God’s bosom smote the heart, +Which yet is honour’d on the bank of Thames.” + +A race I next espied, who held the head, +And even all the bust above the stream. +’Midst these I many a face remember’d well. +Thus shallow more and more the blood became, +So that at last it but imbru’d the feet; +And there our passage lay athwart the foss. + +“As ever on this side the boiling wave +Thou seest diminishing,” the Centaur said, +“So on the other, be thou well assur’d, +It lower still and lower sinks its bed, +Till in that part it reuniting join, +Where ’t is the lot of tyranny to mourn. +There Heav’n’s stern justice lays chastising hand +On Attila, who was the scourge of earth, +On Sextus, and on Pyrrhus, and extracts +Tears ever by the seething flood unlock’d +From the Rinieri, of Corneto this, +Pazzo the other nam’d, who fill’d the ways +With violence and war.” This said, he turn’d, +And quitting us, alone repass’d the ford. + + + + +CANTO XIII + + +Ere Nessus yet had reach’d the other bank, +We enter’d on a forest, where no track +Of steps had worn a way. Not verdant there +The foliage, but of dusky hue; not light +The boughs and tapering, but with knares deform’d +And matted thick: fruits there were none, but thorns +Instead, with venom fill’d. Less sharp than these, +Less intricate the brakes, wherein abide +Those animals, that hate the cultur’d fields, +Betwixt Corneto and Cecina’s stream. + +Here the brute Harpies make their nest, the same +Who from the Strophades the Trojan band +Drove with dire boding of their future woe. +Broad are their pennons, of the human form +Their neck and count’nance, arm’d with talons keen +The feet, and the huge belly fledge with wings +These sit and wail on the drear mystic wood. + +The kind instructor in these words began: +“Ere farther thou proceed, know thou art now +I’ th’ second round, and shalt be, till thou come +Upon the horrid sand: look therefore well +Around thee, and such things thou shalt behold, +As would my speech discredit.” On all sides +I heard sad plainings breathe, and none could see +From whom they might have issu’d. In amaze +Fast bound I stood. He, as it seem’d, believ’d, +That I had thought so many voices came +From some amid those thickets close conceal’d, +And thus his speech resum’d: “If thou lop off +A single twig from one of those ill plants, +The thought thou hast conceiv’d shall vanish quite.” + +Thereat a little stretching forth my hand, +From a great wilding gather’d I a branch, +And straight the trunk exclaim’d: “Why pluck’st thou me?” + +Then as the dark blood trickled down its side, +These words it added: “Wherefore tear’st me thus? +Is there no touch of mercy in thy breast? +Men once were we, that now are rooted here. +Thy hand might well have spar’d us, had we been +The souls of serpents.” As a brand yet green, +That burning at one end from the’ other sends +A groaning sound, and hisses with the wind +That forces out its way, so burst at once, +Forth from the broken splinter words and blood. + +I, letting fall the bough, remain’d as one +Assail’d by terror, and the sage replied: +“If he, O injur’d spirit! could have believ’d +What he hath seen but in my verse describ’d, +He never against thee had stretch’d his hand. +But I, because the thing surpass’d belief, +Prompted him to this deed, which even now +Myself I rue. But tell me, who thou wast; +That, for this wrong to do thee some amends, +In the upper world (for thither to return +Is granted him) thy fame he may revive.” + +“That pleasant word of thine,” the trunk replied +“Hath so inveigled me, that I from speech +Cannot refrain, wherein if I indulge +A little longer, in the snare detain’d, +Count it not grievous. I it was, who held +Both keys to Frederick’s heart, and turn’d the wards, +Opening and shutting, with a skill so sweet, +That besides me, into his inmost breast +Scarce any other could admittance find. +The faith I bore to my high charge was such, +It cost me the life-blood that warm’d my veins. +The harlot, who ne’er turn’d her gloating eyes +From Caesar’s household, common vice and pest +Of courts, ’gainst me inflam’d the minds of all; +And to Augustus they so spread the flame, +That my glad honours chang’d to bitter woes. +My soul, disdainful and disgusted, sought +Refuge in death from scorn, and I became, +Just as I was, unjust toward myself. +By the new roots, which fix this stem, I swear, +That never faith I broke to my liege lord, +Who merited such honour; and of you, +If any to the world indeed return, +Clear he from wrong my memory, that lies +Yet prostrate under envy’s cruel blow.” + +First somewhat pausing, till the mournful words +Were ended, then to me the bard began: +“Lose not the time; but speak and of him ask, +If more thou wish to learn.” Whence I replied: +“Question thou him again of whatsoe’er +Will, as thou think’st, content me; for no power +Have I to ask, such pity’ is at my heart.” + +He thus resum’d; “So may he do for thee +Freely what thou entreatest, as thou yet +Be pleas’d, imprison’d Spirit! to declare, +How in these gnarled joints the soul is tied; +And whether any ever from such frame +Be loosen’d, if thou canst, that also tell.” + +Thereat the trunk breath’d hard, and the wind soon +Chang’d into sounds articulate like these; + +“Briefly ye shall be answer’d. When departs +The fierce soul from the body, by itself +Thence torn asunder, to the seventh gulf +By Minos doom’d, into the wood it falls, +No place assign’d, but wheresoever chance +Hurls it, there sprouting, as a grain of spelt, +It rises to a sapling, growing thence +A savage plant. The Harpies, on its leaves +Then feeding, cause both pain and for the pain +A vent to grief. We, as the rest, shall come +For our own spoils, yet not so that with them +We may again be clad; for what a man +Takes from himself it is not just he have. +Here we perforce shall drag them; and throughout +The dismal glade our bodies shall be hung, +Each on the wild thorn of his wretched shade.” + +Attentive yet to listen to the trunk +We stood, expecting farther speech, when us +A noise surpris’d, as when a man perceives +The wild boar and the hunt approach his place +Of station’d watch, who of the beasts and boughs +Loud rustling round him hears. And lo! there came +Two naked, torn with briers, in headlong flight, +That they before them broke each fan o’ th’ wood. +“Haste now,” the foremost cried, “now haste thee death!” + +The’ other, as seem’d, impatient of delay +Exclaiming, “Lano! not so bent for speed +Thy sinews, in the lists of Toppo’s field.” +And then, for that perchance no longer breath +Suffic’d him, of himself and of a bush +One group he made. Behind them was the wood +Full of black female mastiffs, gaunt and fleet, +As greyhounds that have newly slipp’d the leash. +On him, who squatted down, they stuck their fangs, +And having rent him piecemeal bore away +The tortur’d limbs. My guide then seiz’d my hand, +And led me to the thicket, which in vain +Mourn’d through its bleeding wounds: “O Giacomo +Of Sant’ Andrea! what avails it thee,” +It cried, “that of me thou hast made thy screen? +For thy ill life what blame on me recoils?” + +When o’er it he had paus’d, my master spake: +“Say who wast thou, that at so many points +Breath’st out with blood thy lamentable speech?” + +He answer’d: “Oh, ye spirits: arriv’d in time +To spy the shameful havoc, that from me +My leaves hath sever’d thus, gather them up, +And at the foot of their sad parent-tree +Carefully lay them. In that city’ I dwelt, +Who for the Baptist her first patron chang’d, +Whence he for this shall cease not with his art +To work her woe: and if there still remain’d not +On Arno’s passage some faint glimpse of him, +Those citizens, who rear’d once more her walls +Upon the ashes left by Attila, +Had labour’d without profit of their toil. +I slung the fatal noose from my own roof.” + + + + +CANTO XIV + + +Soon as the charity of native land +Wrought in my bosom, I the scatter’d leaves +Collected, and to him restor’d, who now +Was hoarse with utt’rance. To the limit thence +We came, which from the third the second round +Divides, and where of justice is display’d +Contrivance horrible. Things then first seen +Clearlier to manifest, I tell how next +A plain we reach’d, that from its sterile bed +Each plant repell’d. The mournful wood waves round +Its garland on all sides, as round the wood +Spreads the sad foss. There, on the very edge, +Our steps we stay’d. It was an area wide +Of arid sand and thick, resembling most +The soil that erst by Cato’s foot was trod. + +Vengeance of Heav’n! Oh! how shouldst thou be fear’d +By all, who read what here my eyes beheld! + +Of naked spirits many a flock I saw, +All weeping piteously, to different laws +Subjected: for on the’ earth some lay supine, +Some crouching close were seated, others pac’d +Incessantly around; the latter tribe, +More numerous, those fewer who beneath +The torment lay, but louder in their grief. + +O’er all the sand fell slowly wafting down +Dilated flakes of fire, as flakes of snow +On Alpine summit, when the wind is hush’d. +As in the torrid Indian clime, the son +Of Ammon saw upon his warrior band +Descending, solid flames, that to the ground +Came down: whence he bethought him with his troop +To trample on the soil; for easier thus +The vapour was extinguish’d, while alone; +So fell the eternal fiery flood, wherewith +The marble glow’d underneath, as under stove +The viands, doubly to augment the pain. + +Unceasing was the play of wretched hands, +Now this, now that way glancing, to shake off +The heat, still falling fresh. I thus began: +“Instructor! thou who all things overcom’st, +Except the hardy demons, that rush’d forth +To stop our entrance at the gate, say who +Is yon huge spirit, that, as seems, heeds not +The burning, but lies writhen in proud scorn, +As by the sultry tempest immatur’d?” + +Straight he himself, who was aware I ask’d +My guide of him, exclaim’d: “Such as I was +When living, dead such now I am. If Jove +Weary his workman out, from whom in ire +He snatch’d the lightnings, that at my last day +Transfix’d me, if the rest be weary out +At their black smithy labouring by turns +In Mongibello, while he cries aloud; +“Help, help, good Mulciber!” as erst he cried +In the Phlegraean warfare, and the bolts +Launch he full aim’d at me with all his might, +He never should enjoy a sweet revenge.” + +Then thus my guide, in accent higher rais’d +Than I before had heard him: “Capaneus! +Thou art more punish’d, in that this thy pride +Lives yet unquench’d: no torrent, save thy rage, +Were to thy fury pain proportion’d full.” + +Next turning round to me with milder lip +He spake: “This of the seven kings was one, +Who girt the Theban walls with siege, and held, +As still he seems to hold, God in disdain, +And sets his high omnipotence at nought. +But, as I told him, his despiteful mood +Is ornament well suits the breast that wears it. +Follow me now; and look thou set not yet +Thy foot in the hot sand, but to the wood +Keep ever close.” Silently on we pass’d +To where there gushes from the forest’s bound +A little brook, whose crimson’d wave yet lifts +My hair with horror. As the rill, that runs +From Bulicame, to be portion’d out +Among the sinful women; so ran this +Down through the sand, its bottom and each bank +Stone-built, and either margin at its side, +Whereon I straight perceiv’d our passage lay. + +“Of all that I have shown thee, since that gate +We enter’d first, whose threshold is to none +Denied, nought else so worthy of regard, +As is this river, has thine eye discern’d, +O’er which the flaming volley all is quench’d.” + +So spake my guide; and I him thence besought, +That having giv’n me appetite to know, +The food he too would give, that hunger crav’d. + +“In midst of ocean,” forthwith he began, +“A desolate country lies, which Crete is nam’d, +Under whose monarch in old times the world +Liv’d pure and chaste. A mountain rises there, +Call’d Ida, joyous once with leaves and streams, +Deserted now like a forbidden thing. +It was the spot which Rhea, Saturn’s spouse, +Chose for the secret cradle of her son; +And better to conceal him, drown’d in shouts +His infant cries. Within the mount, upright +An ancient form there stands and huge, that turns +His shoulders towards Damiata, and at Rome +As in his mirror looks. Of finest gold +His head is shap’d, pure silver are the breast +And arms; thence to the middle is of brass. +And downward all beneath well-temper’d steel, +Save the right foot of potter’s clay, on which +Than on the other more erect he stands, +Each part except the gold, is rent throughout; +And from the fissure tears distil, which join’d +Penetrate to that cave. They in their course +Thus far precipitated down the rock +Form Acheron, and Styx, and Phlegethon; +Then by this straiten’d channel passing hence +Beneath, e’en to the lowest depth of all, +Form there Cocytus, of whose lake (thyself +Shall see it) I here give thee no account.” + +Then I to him: “If from our world this sluice +Be thus deriv’d; wherefore to us but now +Appears it at this edge?” He straight replied: +“The place, thou know’st, is round; and though great part +Thou have already pass’d, still to the left +Descending to the nethermost, not yet +Hast thou the circuit made of the whole orb. +Wherefore if aught of new to us appear, +It needs not bring up wonder in thy looks.” + +Then I again inquir’d: “Where flow the streams +Of Phlegethon and Lethe? for of one +Thou tell’st not, and the other of that shower, +Thou say’st, is form’d.” He answer thus return’d: +“Doubtless thy questions all well pleas’d I hear. +Yet the red seething wave might have resolv’d +One thou proposest. Lethe thou shalt see, +But not within this hollow, in the place, +Whither to lave themselves the spirits go, +Whose blame hath been by penitence remov’d.” +He added: “Time is now we quit the wood. +Look thou my steps pursue: the margins give +Safe passage, unimpeded by the flames; +For over them all vapour is extinct.” + + + + +CANTO XV + + +One of the solid margins bears us now +Envelop’d in the mist, that from the stream +Arising, hovers o’er, and saves from fire +Both piers and water. As the Flemings rear +Their mound, ’twixt Ghent and Bruges, to chase back +The ocean, fearing his tumultuous tide +That drives toward them, or the Paduans theirs +Along the Brenta, to defend their towns +And castles, ere the genial warmth be felt +On Chiarentana’s top; such were the mounds, +So fram’d, though not in height or bulk to these +Made equal, by the master, whosoe’er +He was, that rais’d them here. We from the wood +Were not so far remov’d, that turning round +I might not have discern’d it, when we met +A troop of spirits, who came beside the pier. + +They each one ey’d us, as at eventide +One eyes another under a new moon, +And toward us sharpen’d their sight as keen, +As an old tailor at his needle’s eye. + +Thus narrowly explor’d by all the tribe, +I was agniz’d of one, who by the skirt +Caught me, and cried, “What wonder have we here!” + +And I, when he to me outstretch’d his arm, +Intently fix’d my ken on his parch’d looks, +That although smirch’d with fire, they hinder’d not +But I remember’d him; and towards his face +My hand inclining, answer’d: “Sir! Brunetto! + +“And art thou here?” He thus to me: “My son! +Oh let it not displease thee, if Brunetto +Latini but a little space with thee +Turn back, and leave his fellows to proceed.” + +I thus to him replied: “Much as I can, +I thereto pray thee; and if thou be willing, +That I here seat me with thee, I consent; +His leave, with whom I journey, first obtain’d.” + +“O son!” said he, “whoever of this throng +One instant stops, lies then a hundred years, +No fan to ventilate him, when the fire +Smites sorest. Pass thou therefore on. I close +Will at thy garments walk, and then rejoin +My troop, who go mourning their endless doom.” + +I dar’d not from the path descend to tread +On equal ground with him, but held my head +Bent down, as one who walks in reverent guise. + +“What chance or destiny,” thus he began, +“Ere the last day conducts thee here below? +And who is this, that shows to thee the way?” + +“There up aloft,” I answer’d, “in the life +Serene, I wander’d in a valley lost, +Before mine age had to its fullness reach’d. +But yester-morn I left it: then once more +Into that vale returning, him I met; +And by this path homeward he leads me back.” + +“If thou,” he answer’d, “follow but thy star, +Thou canst not miss at last a glorious haven: +Unless in fairer days my judgment err’d. +And if my fate so early had not chanc’d, +Seeing the heav’ns thus bounteous to thee, I +Had gladly giv’n thee comfort in thy work. +But that ungrateful and malignant race, +Who in old times came down from Fesole, +Ay and still smack of their rough mountain-flint, +Will for thy good deeds shew thee enmity. +Nor wonder; for amongst ill-savour’d crabs +It suits not the sweet fig-tree lay her fruit. +Old fame reports them in the world for blind, +Covetous, envious, proud. Look to it well: +Take heed thou cleanse thee of their ways. For thee +Thy fortune hath such honour in reserve, +That thou by either party shalt be crav’d +With hunger keen: but be the fresh herb far +From the goat’s tooth. The herd of Fesole +May of themselves make litter, not touch the plant, +If any such yet spring on their rank bed, +In which the holy seed revives, transmitted +From those true Romans, who still there remain’d, +When it was made the nest of so much ill.” + +“Were all my wish fulfill’d,” I straight replied, +“Thou from the confines of man’s nature yet +Hadst not been driven forth; for in my mind +Is fix’d, and now strikes full upon my heart +The dear, benign, paternal image, such +As thine was, when so lately thou didst teach me +The way for man to win eternity; +And how I priz’d the lesson, it behooves, +That, long as life endures, my tongue should speak, +What of my fate thou tell’st, that write I down: +And with another text to comment on +For her I keep it, the celestial dame, +Who will know all, if I to her arrive. +This only would I have thee clearly note: +That so my conscience have no plea against me; +Do fortune as she list, I stand prepar’d. +Not new or strange such earnest to mine ear. +Speed fortune then her wheel, as likes her best, +The clown his mattock; all things have their course.” + +Thereat my sapient guide upon his right +Turn’d himself back, then look’d at me and spake: +“He listens to good purpose who takes note.” + +I not the less still on my way proceed, +Discoursing with Brunetto, and inquire +Who are most known and chief among his tribe. + +“To know of some is well;” thus he replied, +“But of the rest silence may best beseem. +Time would not serve us for report so long. +In brief I tell thee, that all these were clerks, +Men of great learning and no less renown, +By one same sin polluted in the world. +With them is Priscian, and Accorso’s son +Francesco herds among that wretched throng: +And, if the wish of so impure a blotch +Possess’d thee, him thou also might’st have seen, +Who by the servants’ servant was transferr’d +From Arno’s seat to Bacchiglione, where +His ill-strain’d nerves he left. I more would add, +But must from farther speech and onward way +Alike desist, for yonder I behold +A mist new-risen on the sandy plain. +A company, with whom I may not sort, +Approaches. I commend my TREASURE to thee, +Wherein I yet survive; my sole request.” + +This said he turn’d, and seem’d as one of those, +Who o’er Verona’s champain try their speed +For the green mantle, and of them he seem’d, +Not he who loses but who gains the prize. + + + + +CANTO XVI + + +Now came I where the water’s din was heard, +As down it fell into the other round, +Resounding like the hum of swarming bees: +When forth together issu’d from a troop, +That pass’d beneath the fierce tormenting storm, +Three spirits, running swift. They towards us came, +And each one cried aloud, “Oh do thou stay! +Whom by the fashion of thy garb we deem +To be some inmate of our evil land.” + +Ah me! what wounds I mark’d upon their limbs, +Recent and old, inflicted by the flames! +E’en the remembrance of them grieves me yet. + +Attentive to their cry my teacher paus’d, +And turn’d to me his visage, and then spake; +“Wait now! our courtesy these merit well: +And were ’t not for the nature of the place, +Whence glide the fiery darts, I should have said, +That haste had better suited thee than them.” + +They, when we stopp’d, resum’d their ancient wail, +And soon as they had reach’d us, all the three +Whirl’d round together in one restless wheel. +As naked champions, smear’d with slippery oil, +Are wont intent to watch their place of hold +And vantage, ere in closer strife they meet; +Thus each one, as he wheel’d, his countenance +At me directed, so that opposite +The neck mov’d ever to the twinkling feet. + +“If misery of this drear wilderness,” +Thus one began, “added to our sad cheer +And destitute, do call forth scorn on us +And our entreaties, let our great renown +Incline thee to inform us who thou art, +That dost imprint with living feet unharm’d +The soil of Hell. He, in whose track thou see’st +My steps pursuing, naked though he be +And reft of all, was of more high estate +Than thou believest; grandchild of the chaste +Gualdrada, him they Guidoguerra call’d, +Who in his lifetime many a noble act +Achiev’d, both by his wisdom and his sword. +The other, next to me that beats the sand, +Is Aldobrandi, name deserving well, +In the’ upper world, of honour; and myself +Who in this torment do partake with them, +Am Rusticucci, whom, past doubt, my wife +Of savage temper, more than aught beside +Hath to this evil brought.” If from the fire +I had been shelter’d, down amidst them straight +I then had cast me, nor my guide, I deem, +Would have restrain’d my going; but that fear +Of the dire burning vanquish’d the desire, +Which made me eager of their wish’d embrace. + +I then began: “Not scorn, but grief much more, +Such as long time alone can cure, your doom +Fix’d deep within me, soon as this my lord +Spake words, whose tenour taught me to expect +That such a race, as ye are, was at hand. +I am a countryman of yours, who still +Affectionate have utter’d, and have heard +Your deeds and names renown’d. Leaving the gall +For the sweet fruit I go, that a sure guide +Hath promis’d to me. But behooves, that far +As to the centre first I downward tend.” + +“So may long space thy spirit guide thy limbs,” +He answer straight return’d; “and so thy fame +Shine bright, when thou art gone; as thou shalt tell, +If courtesy and valour, as they wont, +Dwell in our city, or have vanish’d clean? +For one amidst us late condemn’d to wail, +Borsiere, yonder walking with his peers, +Grieves us no little by the news he brings.” + +“An upstart multitude and sudden gains, +Pride and excess, O Florence! have in thee +Engender’d, so that now in tears thou mourn’st!” +Thus cried I with my face uprais’d, and they +All three, who for an answer took my words, +Look’d at each other, as men look when truth +Comes to their ear. “If thou at other times,” +They all at once rejoin’d, “so easily +Satisfy those, who question, happy thou, +Gifted with words, so apt to speak thy thought! +Wherefore if thou escape this darksome clime, +Returning to behold the radiant stars, +When thou with pleasure shalt retrace the past, +See that of us thou speak among mankind.” + +This said, they broke the circle, and so swift +Fled, that as pinions seem’d their nimble feet. + +Not in so short a time might one have said +“Amen,” as they had vanish’d. Straight my guide +Pursu’d his track. I follow’d; and small space +Had we pass’d onward, when the water’s sound +Was now so near at hand, that we had scarce +Heard one another’s speech for the loud din. + +E’en as the river, that holds on its course +Unmingled, from the mount of Vesulo, +On the left side of Apennine, toward +The east, which Acquacheta higher up +They call, ere it descend into the vale, +At Forli by that name no longer known, +Rebellows o’er Saint Benedict, roll’d on +From the’ Alpine summit down a precipice, +Where space enough to lodge a thousand spreads; +Thus downward from a craggy steep we found, +That this dark wave resounded, roaring loud, +So that the ear its clamour soon had stunn’d. + +I had a cord that brac’d my girdle round, +Wherewith I erst had thought fast bound to take +The painted leopard. This when I had all +Unloosen’d from me (so my master bade) +I gather’d up, and stretch’d it forth to him. +Then to the right he turn’d, and from the brink +Standing few paces distant, cast it down +Into the deep abyss. “And somewhat strange,” +Thus to myself I spake, “signal so strange +Betokens, which my guide with earnest eye +Thus follows.” Ah! what caution must men use +With those who look not at the deed alone, +But spy into the thoughts with subtle skill! + +“Quickly shall come,” he said, “what I expect, +Thine eye discover quickly, that whereof +Thy thought is dreaming.” Ever to that truth, +Which but the semblance of a falsehood wears, +A man, if possible, should bar his lip; +Since, although blameless, he incurs reproach. +But silence here were vain; and by these notes +Which now I sing, reader! I swear to thee, +So may they favour find to latest times! +That through the gross and murky air I spied +A shape come swimming up, that might have quell’d +The stoutest heart with wonder, in such guise +As one returns, who hath been down to loose +An anchor grappled fast against some rock, +Or to aught else that in the salt wave lies, +Who upward springing close draws in his feet. + + + + +CANTO XVII + + +“Lo! the fell monster with the deadly sting! +Who passes mountains, breaks through fenced walls +And firm embattled spears, and with his filth +Taints all the world!” Thus me my guide address’d, +And beckon’d him, that he should come to shore, +Near to the stony causeway’s utmost edge. + +Forthwith that image vile of fraud appear’d, +His head and upper part expos’d on land, +But laid not on the shore his bestial train. +His face the semblance of a just man’s wore, +So kind and gracious was its outward cheer; +The rest was serpent all: two shaggy claws +Reach’d to the armpits, and the back and breast, +And either side, were painted o’er with nodes +And orbits. Colours variegated more +Nor Turks nor Tartars e’er on cloth of state +With interchangeable embroidery wove, +Nor spread Arachne o’er her curious loom. +As ofttimes a light skiff, moor’d to the shore, +Stands part in water, part upon the land; +Or, as where dwells the greedy German boor, +The beaver settles watching for his prey; +So on the rim, that fenc’d the sand with rock, +Sat perch’d the fiend of evil. In the void +Glancing, his tail upturn’d its venomous fork, +With sting like scorpion’s arm’d. Then thus my guide: +“Now need our way must turn few steps apart, +Far as to that ill beast, who couches there.” + +Thereat toward the right our downward course +We shap’d, and, better to escape the flame +And burning marle, ten paces on the verge +Proceeded. Soon as we to him arrive, +A little further on mine eye beholds +A tribe of spirits, seated on the sand +Near the wide chasm. Forthwith my master spake: +“That to the full thy knowledge may extend +Of all this round contains, go now, and mark +The mien these wear: but hold not long discourse. +Till thou returnest, I with him meantime +Will parley, that to us he may vouchsafe +The aid of his strong shoulders.” Thus alone +Yet forward on the’ extremity I pac’d +Of that seventh circle, where the mournful tribe +Were seated. At the eyes forth gush’d their pangs. +Against the vapours and the torrid soil +Alternately their shifting hands they plied. +Thus use the dogs in summer still to ply +Their jaws and feet by turns, when bitten sore +By gnats, or flies, or gadflies swarming round. + +Noting the visages of some, who lay +Beneath the pelting of that dolorous fire, +One of them all I knew not; but perceiv’d, +That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch +With colours and with emblems various mark’d, +On which it seem’d as if their eye did feed. + +And when amongst them looking round I came, +A yellow purse I saw with azure wrought, +That wore a lion’s countenance and port. +Then still my sight pursuing its career, +Another I beheld, than blood more red. +A goose display of whiter wing than curd. +And one, who bore a fat and azure swine +Pictur’d on his white scrip, addressed me thus: +“What dost thou in this deep? Go now and know, +Since yet thou livest, that my neighbour here +Vitaliano on my left shall sit. +A Paduan with these Florentines am I. +Ofttimes they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming +‘O haste that noble knight! he who the pouch +With the three beaks will bring!’” This said, he writh’d +The mouth, and loll’d the tongue out, like an ox +That licks his nostrils. I, lest longer stay +He ill might brook, who bade me stay not long, +Backward my steps from those sad spirits turn’d. + +My guide already seated on the haunch +Of the fierce animal I found; and thus +He me encourag’d. “Be thou stout; be bold. +Down such a steep flight must we now descend! +Mount thou before: for that no power the tail +May have to harm thee, I will be i’ th’ midst.” + +As one, who hath an ague fit so near, +His nails already are turn’d blue, and he +Quivers all o’er, if he but eye the shade; +Such was my cheer at hearing of his words. +But shame soon interpos’d her threat, who makes +The servant bold in presence of his lord. + +I settled me upon those shoulders huge, +And would have said, but that the words to aid +My purpose came not, “Look thou clasp me firm!” + +But he whose succour then not first I prov’d, +Soon as I mounted, in his arms aloft, +Embracing, held me up, and thus he spake: +“Geryon! now move thee! be thy wheeling gyres +Of ample circuit, easy thy descent. +Think on th’ unusual burden thou sustain’st.” + +As a small vessel, back’ning out from land, +Her station quits; so thence the monster loos’d, +And when he felt himself at large, turn’d round +There where the breast had been, his forked tail. +Thus, like an eel, outstretch’d at length he steer’d, +Gath’ring the air up with retractile claws. + +Not greater was the dread when Phaeton +The reins let drop at random, whence high heaven, +Whereof signs yet appear, was wrapt in flames; +Nor when ill-fated Icarus perceiv’d, +By liquefaction of the scalded wax, +The trusted pennons loosen’d from his loins, +His sire exclaiming loud, “Ill way thou keep’st!” +Than was my dread, when round me on each part +The air I view’d, and other object none +Save the fell beast. He slowly sailing, wheels +His downward motion, unobserv’d of me, +But that the wind, arising to my face, +Breathes on me from below. Now on our right +I heard the cataract beneath us leap +With hideous crash; whence bending down to’ explore, +New terror I conceiv’d at the steep plunge: + +For flames I saw, and wailings smote mine ear: +So that all trembling close I crouch’d my limbs, +And then distinguish’d, unperceiv’d before, +By the dread torments that on every side +Drew nearer, how our downward course we wound. + +As falcon, that hath long been on the wing, +But lure nor bird hath seen, while in despair +The falconer cries, “Ah me! thou stoop’st to earth!” +Wearied descends, and swiftly down the sky +In many an orbit wheels, then lighting sits +At distance from his lord in angry mood; +So Geryon lighting places us on foot +Low down at base of the deep-furrow’d rock, +And, of his burden there discharg’d, forthwith +Sprang forward, like an arrow from the string. + + + + +CANTO XVIII + + +There is a place within the depths of hell +Call’d Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain’d +With hue ferruginous, e’en as the steep +That round it circling winds. Right in the midst +Of that abominable region, yawns +A spacious gulf profound, whereof the frame +Due time shall tell. The circle, that remains, +Throughout its round, between the gulf and base +Of the high craggy banks, successive forms +Ten trenches, in its hollow bottom sunk. + +As where to guard the walls, full many a foss +Begirds some stately castle, sure defence +Affording to the space within, so here +Were model’d these; and as like fortresses +E’en from their threshold to the brink without, +Are flank’d with bridges; from the rock’s low base +Thus flinty paths advanc’d, that ’cross the moles +And dikes, struck onward far as to the gulf, +That in one bound collected cuts them off. +Such was the place, wherein we found ourselves +From Geryon’s back dislodg’d. The bard to left +Held on his way, and I behind him mov’d. + +On our right hand new misery I saw, +New pains, new executioners of wrath, +That swarming peopled the first chasm. Below +Were naked sinners. Hitherward they came, +Meeting our faces from the middle point, +With us beyond but with a larger stride. +E’en thus the Romans, when the year returns +Of Jubilee, with better speed to rid +The thronging multitudes, their means devise +For such as pass the bridge; that on one side +All front toward the castle, and approach +Saint Peter’s fane, on th’ other towards the mount. + +Each divers way along the grisly rock, +Horn’d demons I beheld, with lashes huge, +That on their back unmercifully smote. +Ah! how they made them bound at the first stripe! + +None for the second waited nor the third. + +Meantime as on I pass’d, one met my sight +Whom soon as view’d; “Of him,” cried I, “not yet +Mine eye hath had his fill.” With fixed gaze +I therefore scann’d him. Straight the teacher kind +Paus’d with me, and consented I should walk +Backward a space, and the tormented spirit, +Who thought to hide him, bent his visage down. +But it avail’d him nought; for I exclaim’d: +“Thou who dost cast thy eye upon the ground, +Unless thy features do belie thee much, +Venedico art thou. But what brings thee +Into this bitter seas’ning?” He replied: +“Unwillingly I answer to thy words. +But thy clear speech, that to my mind recalls +The world I once inhabited, constrains me. +Know then ’twas I who led fair Ghisola +To do the Marquis’ will, however fame +The shameful tale have bruited. Nor alone +Bologna hither sendeth me to mourn +Rather with us the place is so o’erthrong’d +That not so many tongues this day are taught, +Betwixt the Reno and Savena’s stream, +To answer SIPA in their country’s phrase. +And if of that securer proof thou need, +Remember but our craving thirst for gold.” + +Him speaking thus, a demon with his thong +Struck, and exclaim’d, “Away! corrupter! here +Women are none for sale.” Forthwith I join’d +My escort, and few paces thence we came +To where a rock forth issued from the bank. +That easily ascended, to the right +Upon its splinter turning, we depart +From those eternal barriers. When arriv’d, +Where underneath the gaping arch lets pass +The scourged souls: “Pause here,” the teacher said, +“And let these others miserable, now +Strike on thy ken, faces not yet beheld, +For that together they with us have walk’d.” + +From the old bridge we ey’d the pack, who came +From th’ other side towards us, like the rest, +Excoriate from the lash. My gentle guide, +By me unquestion’d, thus his speech resum’d: +“Behold that lofty shade, who this way tends, +And seems too woe-begone to drop a tear. +How yet the regal aspect he retains! +Jason is he, whose skill and prowess won +The ram from Colchos. To the Lemnian isle +His passage thither led him, when those bold +And pitiless women had slain all their males. +There he with tokens and fair witching words +Hypsipyle beguil’d, a virgin young, +Who first had all the rest herself beguil’d. +Impregnated he left her there forlorn. +Such is the guilt condemns him to this pain. +Here too Medea’s inj’ries are avenged. +All bear him company, who like deceit +To his have practis’d. And thus much to know +Of the first vale suffice thee, and of those +Whom its keen torments urge.” Now had we come +Where, crossing the next pier, the straighten’d path +Bestrides its shoulders to another arch. + +Hence in the second chasm we heard the ghosts, +Who jibber in low melancholy sounds, +With wide-stretch’d nostrils snort, and on themselves +Smite with their palms. Upon the banks a scurf +From the foul steam condens’d, encrusting hung, +That held sharp combat with the sight and smell. + +So hollow is the depth, that from no part, +Save on the summit of the rocky span, +Could I distinguish aught. Thus far we came; +And thence I saw, within the foss below, +A crowd immers’d in ordure, that appear’d +Draff of the human body. There beneath +Searching with eye inquisitive, I mark’d +One with his head so grim’d, ’t were hard to deem, +If he were clerk or layman. Loud he cried: +“Why greedily thus bendest more on me, +Than on these other filthy ones, thy ken?” + +“Because if true my mem’ry,” I replied, +“I heretofore have seen thee with dry locks, +And thou Alessio art of Lucca sprung. +Therefore than all the rest I scan thee more.” + +Then beating on his brain these words he spake: +“Me thus low down my flatteries have sunk, +Wherewith I ne’er enough could glut my tongue.” + +My leader thus: “A little further stretch +Thy face, that thou the visage well mayst note +Of that besotted, sluttish courtezan, +Who there doth rend her with defiled nails, +Now crouching down, now risen on her feet. + +“Thais is this, the harlot, whose false lip +Answer’d her doting paramour that ask’d, +‘Thankest me much!’—‘Say rather wondrously,’ +And seeing this here satiate be our view.” + + + + +CANTO XIX + + +Woe to thee, Simon Magus! woe to you, +His wretched followers! who the things of God, +Which should be wedded unto goodness, them, +Rapacious as ye are, do prostitute +For gold and silver in adultery! +Now must the trumpet sound for you, since yours +Is the third chasm. Upon the following vault +We now had mounted, where the rock impends +Directly o’er the centre of the foss. + +Wisdom Supreme! how wonderful the art, +Which thou dost manifest in heaven, in earth, +And in the evil world, how just a meed +Allotting by thy virtue unto all! + +I saw the livid stone, throughout the sides +And in its bottom full of apertures, +All equal in their width, and circular each, +Nor ample less nor larger they appear’d +Than in Saint John’s fair dome of me belov’d +Those fram’d to hold the pure baptismal streams, +One of the which I brake, some few years past, +To save a whelming infant; and be this +A seal to undeceive whoever doubts +The motive of my deed. From out the mouth +Of every one, emerg’d a sinner’s feet +And of the legs high upward as the calf +The rest beneath was hid. On either foot +The soles were burning, whence the flexile joints +Glanc’d with such violent motion, as had snapt +Asunder cords or twisted withs. As flame, +Feeding on unctuous matter, glides along +The surface, scarcely touching where it moves; +So here, from heel to point, glided the flames. + +“Master! say who is he, than all the rest +Glancing in fiercer agony, on whom +A ruddier flame doth prey?” I thus inquir’d. + +“If thou be willing,” he replied, “that I +Carry thee down, where least the slope bank falls, +He of himself shall tell thee and his wrongs.” + +I then: “As pleases thee to me is best. +Thou art my lord; and know’st that ne’er I quit +Thy will: what silence hides that knowest thou.” +Thereat on the fourth pier we came, we turn’d, +And on our left descended to the depth, +A narrow strait and perforated close. +Nor from his side my leader set me down, +Till to his orifice he brought, whose limb +Quiv’ring express’d his pang. “Whoe’er thou art, +Sad spirit! thus revers’d, and as a stake +Driv’n in the soil!” I in these words began, +“If thou be able, utter forth thy voice.” + +There stood I like the friar, that doth shrive +A wretch for murder doom’d, who e’en when fix’d, +Calleth him back, whence death awhile delays. + +He shouted: “Ha! already standest there? +Already standest there, O Boniface! +By many a year the writing play’d me false. +So early dost thou surfeit with the wealth, +For which thou fearedst not in guile to take +The lovely lady, and then mangle her?” + +I felt as those who, piercing not the drift +Of answer made them, stand as if expos’d +In mockery, nor know what to reply, +When Virgil thus admonish’d: “Tell him quick, +I am not he, not he, whom thou believ’st.” + +And I, as was enjoin’d me, straight replied. + +That heard, the spirit all did wrench his feet, +And sighing next in woeful accent spake: +“What then of me requirest? If to know +So much imports thee, who I am, that thou +Hast therefore down the bank descended, learn +That in the mighty mantle I was rob’d, +And of a she-bear was indeed the son, +So eager to advance my whelps, that there +My having in my purse above I stow’d, +And here myself. Under my head are dragg’d +The rest, my predecessors in the guilt +Of simony. Stretch’d at their length they lie +Along an opening in the rock. ’Midst them +I also low shall fall, soon as he comes, +For whom I took thee, when so hastily +I question’d. But already longer time +Hath pass’d, since my souls kindled, and I thus +Upturn’d have stood, than is his doom to stand +Planted with fiery feet. For after him, +One yet of deeds more ugly shall arrive, +From forth the west, a shepherd without law, +Fated to cover both his form and mine. +He a new Jason shall be call’d, of whom +In Maccabees we read; and favour such +As to that priest his king indulgent show’d, +Shall be of France’s monarch shown to him.” + +I know not if I here too far presum’d, +But in this strain I answer’d: “Tell me now, +What treasures from St. Peter at the first +Our Lord demanded, when he put the keys +Into his charge? Surely he ask’d no more +But, Follow me! Nor Peter nor the rest +Or gold or silver of Matthias took, +When lots were cast upon the forfeit place +Of the condemned soul. Abide thou then; +Thy punishment of right is merited: +And look thou well to that ill-gotten coin, +Which against Charles thy hardihood inspir’d. +If reverence of the keys restrain’d me not, +Which thou in happier time didst hold, I yet +Severer speech might use. Your avarice +O’ercasts the world with mourning, under foot +Treading the good, and raising bad men up. +Of shepherds, like to you, th’ Evangelist +Was ware, when her, who sits upon the waves, +With kings in filthy whoredom he beheld, +She who with seven heads tower’d at her birth, +And from ten horns her proof of glory drew, +Long as her spouse in virtue took delight. +Of gold and silver ye have made your god, +Diff’ring wherein from the idolater, +But he that worships one, a hundred ye? +Ah, Constantine! to how much ill gave birth, +Not thy conversion, but that plenteous dower, +Which the first wealthy Father gain’d from thee!” + +Meanwhile, as thus I sung, he, whether wrath +Or conscience smote him, violent upsprang +Spinning on either sole. I do believe +My teacher well was pleas’d, with so compos’d +A lip, he listen’d ever to the sound +Of the true words I utter’d. In both arms +He caught, and to his bosom lifting me +Upward retrac’d the way of his descent. + +Nor weary of his weight he press’d me close, +Till to the summit of the rock we came, +Our passage from the fourth to the fifth pier. +His cherish’d burden there gently he plac’d +Upon the rugged rock and steep, a path +Not easy for the clamb’ring goat to mount. + +Thence to my view another vale appear’d + + + + +CANTO XX + + +And now the verse proceeds to torments new, +Fit argument of this the twentieth strain +Of the first song, whose awful theme records +The spirits whelm’d in woe. Earnest I look’d +Into the depth, that open’d to my view, +Moisten’d with tears of anguish, and beheld +A tribe, that came along the hollow vale, +In silence weeping: such their step as walk +Quires chanting solemn litanies on earth. + +As on them more direct mine eye descends, +Each wondrously seem’d to be revers’d +At the neck-bone, so that the countenance +Was from the reins averted: and because +None might before him look, they were compell’d +To’ advance with backward gait. Thus one perhaps +Hath been by force of palsy clean transpos’d, +But I ne’er saw it nor believe it so. + +Now, reader! think within thyself, so God +Fruit of thy reading give thee! how I long +Could keep my visage dry, when I beheld +Near me our form distorted in such guise, +That on the hinder parts fall’n from the face +The tears down-streaming roll’d. Against a rock +I leant and wept, so that my guide exclaim’d: +“What, and art thou too witless as the rest? +Here pity most doth show herself alive, +When she is dead. What guilt exceedeth his, +Who with Heaven’s judgment in his passion strives? +Raise up thy head, raise up, and see the man, +Before whose eyes earth gap’d in Thebes, when all +Cried out, ‘Amphiaraus, whither rushest? +‘Why leavest thou the war?’ He not the less +Fell ruining far as to Minos down, +Whose grapple none eludes. Lo! how he makes +The breast his shoulders, and who once too far +Before him wish’d to see, now backward looks, +And treads reverse his path. Tiresias note, +Who semblance chang’d, when woman he became +Of male, through every limb transform’d, and then +Once more behov’d him with his rod to strike +The two entwining serpents, ere the plumes, +That mark’d the better sex, might shoot again. + +“Aruns, with more his belly facing, comes. +On Luni’s mountains ’midst the marbles white, +Where delves Carrara’s hind, who wons beneath, +A cavern was his dwelling, whence the stars +And main-sea wide in boundless view he held. + +“The next, whose loosen’d tresses overspread +Her bosom, which thou seest not (for each hair +On that side grows) was Manto, she who search’d +Through many regions, and at length her seat +Fix’d in my native land, whence a short space +My words detain thy audience. When her sire +From life departed, and in servitude +The city dedicate to Bacchus mourn’d, +Long time she went a wand’rer through the world. +Aloft in Italy’s delightful land +A lake there lies, at foot of that proud Alp, +That o’er the Tyrol locks Germania in, +Its name Benacus, which a thousand rills, +Methinks, and more, water between the vale +Camonica and Garda and the height +Of Apennine remote. There is a spot +At midway of that lake, where he who bears +Of Trento’s flock the past’ral staff, with him +Of Brescia, and the Veronese, might each +Passing that way his benediction give. +A garrison of goodly site and strong +Peschiera stands, to awe with front oppos’d +The Bergamese and Brescian, whence the shore +More slope each way descends. There, whatsoev’er +Benacus’ bosom holds not, tumbling o’er +Down falls, and winds a river flood beneath +Through the green pastures. Soon as in his course +The steam makes head, Benacus then no more +They call the name, but Mincius, till at last +Reaching Governo into Po he falls. +Not far his course hath run, when a wide flat +It finds, which overstretchmg as a marsh +It covers, pestilent in summer oft. +Hence journeying, the savage maiden saw +’Midst of the fen a territory waste +And naked of inhabitants. To shun +All human converse, here she with her slaves +Plying her arts remain’d, and liv’d, and left +Her body tenantless. Thenceforth the tribes, +Who round were scatter’d, gath’ring to that place +Assembled; for its strength was great, enclos’d +On all parts by the fen. On those dead bones +They rear’d themselves a city, for her sake, +Calling it Mantua, who first chose the spot, +Nor ask’d another omen for the name, +Wherein more numerous the people dwelt, +Ere Casalodi’s madness by deceit +Was wrong’d of Pinamonte. If thou hear +Henceforth another origin assign’d +Of that my country, I forewarn thee now, +That falsehood none beguile thee of the truth.” + +I answer’d: “Teacher, I conclude thy words +So certain, that all else shall be to me +As embers lacking life. But now of these, +Who here proceed, instruct me, if thou see +Any that merit more especial note. +For thereon is my mind alone intent.” + +He straight replied: “That spirit, from whose cheek +The beard sweeps o’er his shoulders brown, what time +Graecia was emptied of her males, that scarce +The cradles were supplied, the seer was he +In Aulis, who with Calchas gave the sign +When first to cut the cable. Him they nam’d +Eurypilus: so sings my tragic strain, +In which majestic measure well thou know’st, +Who know’st it all. That other, round the loins +So slender of his shape, was Michael Scot, +Practis’d in ev’ry slight of magic wile. + +“Guido Bonatti see: Asdente mark, +Who now were willing, he had tended still +The thread and cordwain; and too late repents. + +“See next the wretches, who the needle left, +The shuttle and the spindle, and became +Diviners: baneful witcheries they wrought +With images and herbs. But onward now: +For now doth Cain with fork of thorns confine +On either hemisphere, touching the wave +Beneath the towers of Seville. Yesternight +The moon was round. Thou mayst remember well: +For she good service did thee in the gloom +Of the deep wood.” This said, both onward mov’d. + + + + +CANTO XXI + + +Thus we from bridge to bridge, with other talk, +The which my drama cares not to rehearse, +Pass’d on; and to the summit reaching, stood +To view another gap, within the round +Of Malebolge, other bootless pangs. + +Marvelous darkness shadow’d o’er the place. + +In the Venetians’ arsenal as boils +Through wintry months tenacious pitch, to smear +Their unsound vessels; for th’ inclement time +Sea-faring men restrains, and in that while +His bark one builds anew, another stops +The ribs of his, that hath made many a voyage; +One hammers at the prow, one at the poop; +This shapeth oars, that other cables twirls, +The mizen one repairs and main-sail rent +So not by force of fire but art divine +Boil’d here a glutinous thick mass, that round +Lim’d all the shore beneath. I that beheld, +But therein nought distinguish’d, save the surge, +Rais’d by the boiling, in one mighty swell +Heave, and by turns subsiding and fall. While there +I fix’d my ken below, “Mark! mark!” my guide +Exclaiming, drew me towards him from the place, +Wherein I stood. I turn’d myself as one, +Impatient to behold that which beheld +He needs must shun, whom sudden fear unmans, +That he his flight delays not for the view. +Behind me I discern’d a devil black, +That running, up advanc’d along the rock. +Ah! what fierce cruelty his look bespake! +In act how bitter did he seem, with wings +Buoyant outstretch’d and feet of nimblest tread! +His shoulder proudly eminent and sharp +Was with a sinner charg’d; by either haunch +He held him, the foot’s sinew griping fast. + +“Ye of our bridge!” he cried, “keen-talon’d fiends! +Lo! one of Santa Zita’s elders! Him +Whelm ye beneath, while I return for more. +That land hath store of such. All men are there, +Except Bonturo, barterers: of ‘no’ +For lucre there an ‘aye’ is quickly made.” + +Him dashing down, o’er the rough rock he turn’d, +Nor ever after thief a mastiff loos’d +Sped with like eager haste. That other sank +And forthwith writing to the surface rose. +But those dark demons, shrouded by the bridge, +Cried “Here the hallow’d visage saves not: here +Is other swimming than in Serchio’s wave. +Wherefore if thou desire we rend thee not, +Take heed thou mount not o’er the pitch.” This said, +They grappled him with more than hundred hooks, +And shouted: “Cover’d thou must sport thee here; +So, if thou canst, in secret mayst thou filch.” + +E’en thus the cook bestirs him, with his grooms, +To thrust the flesh into the caldron down +With flesh-hooks, that it float not on the top. + +Me then my guide bespake: “Lest they descry, +That thou art here, behind a craggy rock +Bend low and screen thee; and whate’er of force +Be offer’d me, or insult, fear thou not: +For I am well advis’d, who have been erst +In the like fray.” Beyond the bridge’s head +Therewith he pass’d, and reaching the sixth pier, +Behov’d him then a forehead terror-proof. + +With storm and fury, as when dogs rush forth +Upon the poor man’s back, who suddenly +From whence he standeth makes his suit; so rush’d +Those from beneath the arch, and against him +Their weapons all they pointed. He aloud: +“Be none of you outrageous: ere your time +Dare seize me, come forth from amongst you one, + +“Who having heard my words, decide he then +If he shall tear these limbs.” They shouted loud, +“Go, Malacoda!” Whereat one advanc’d, +The others standing firm, and as he came, +“What may this turn avail him?” he exclaim’d. + +“Believ’st thou, Malacoda! I had come +Thus far from all your skirmishing secure,” +My teacher answered, “without will divine +And destiny propitious? Pass we then +For so Heaven’s pleasure is, that I should lead +Another through this savage wilderness.” + +Forthwith so fell his pride, that he let drop +The instrument of torture at his feet, +And to the rest exclaim’d: “We have no power +To strike him.” Then to me my guide: “O thou! +Who on the bridge among the crags dost sit +Low crouching, safely now to me return.” + +I rose, and towards him moved with speed: the fiends +Meantime all forward drew: me terror seiz’d +Lest they should break the compact they had made. +Thus issuing from Caprona, once I saw +Th’ infantry dreading, lest his covenant +The foe should break; so close he hemm’d them round. + +I to my leader’s side adher’d, mine eyes +With fixt and motionless observance bent +On their unkindly visage. They their hooks +Protruding, one the other thus bespake: +“Wilt thou I touch him on the hip?” To whom +Was answer’d: “Even so; nor miss thy aim.” + +But he, who was in conf’rence with my guide, +Turn’d rapid round, and thus the demon spake: +“Stay, stay thee, Scarmiglione!” Then to us +He added: “Further footing to your step +This rock affords not, shiver’d to the base +Of the sixth arch. But would you still proceed, +Up by this cavern go: not distant far, +Another rock will yield you passage safe. +Yesterday, later by five hours than now, +Twelve hundred threescore years and six had fill’d +The circuit of their course, since here the way +Was broken. Thitherward I straight dispatch +Certain of these my scouts, who shall espy +If any on the surface bask. With them +Go ye: for ye shall find them nothing fell. +Come Alichino forth,” with that he cried, +“And Calcabrina, and Cagnazzo thou! +The troop of ten let Barbariccia lead. +With Libicocco Draghinazzo haste, +Fang’d Ciriatto, Grafflacane fierce, +And Farfarello, and mad Rubicant. +Search ye around the bubbling tar. For these, +In safety lead them, where the other crag +Uninterrupted traverses the dens.” + +I then: “O master! what a sight is there! +Ah! without escort, journey we alone, +Which, if thou know the way, I covet not. +Unless thy prudence fail thee, dost not mark +How they do gnarl upon us, and their scowl +Threatens us present tortures?” He replied: +“I charge thee fear not: let them, as they will, +Gnarl on: ’t is but in token of their spite +Against the souls, who mourn in torment steep’d.” + +To leftward o’er the pier they turn’d; but each +Had first between his teeth prest close the tongue, +Toward their leader for a signal looking, +Which he with sound obscene triumphant gave. + + + + +CANTO XXII + + +It hath been heretofore my chance to see +Horsemen with martial order shifting camp, +To onset sallying, or in muster rang’d, +Or in retreat sometimes outstretch’d for flight; +Light-armed squadrons and fleet foragers +Scouring thy plains, Arezzo! have I seen, +And clashing tournaments, and tilting jousts, +Now with the sound of trumpets, now of bells, +Tabors, or signals made from castled heights, +And with inventions multiform, our own, +Or introduc’d from foreign land; but ne’er +To such a strange recorder I beheld, +In evolution moving, horse nor foot, +Nor ship, that tack’d by sign from land or star. + +With the ten demons on our way we went; +Ah fearful company! but in the church +With saints, with gluttons at the tavern’s mess. + +Still earnest on the pitch I gaz’d, to mark +All things whate’er the chasm contain’d, and those +Who burn’d within. As dolphins, that, in sign +To mariners, heave high their arched backs, +That thence forewarn’d they may advise to save +Their threaten’d vessels; so, at intervals, +To ease the pain his back some sinner show’d, +Then hid more nimbly than the lightning glance. + +E’en as the frogs, that of a wat’ry moat +Stand at the brink, with the jaws only out, +Their feet and of the trunk all else concealed, +Thus on each part the sinners stood, but soon +As Barbariccia was at hand, so they +Drew back under the wave. I saw, and yet +My heart doth stagger, one, that waited thus, +As it befalls that oft one frog remains, +While the next springs away: and Graffiacan, +Who of the fiends was nearest, grappling seiz’d +His clotted locks, and dragg’d him sprawling up, +That he appear’d to me an otter. Each +Already by their names I knew, so well +When they were chosen, I observ’d, and mark’d +How one the other call’d. “O Rubicant! +See that his hide thou with thy talons flay,” +Shouted together all the cursed crew. + +Then I: “Inform thee, master! if thou may, +What wretched soul is this, on whom their hand +His foes have laid.” My leader to his side +Approach’d, and whence he came inquir’d, to whom +Was answer’d thus: “Born in Navarre’s domain +My mother plac’d me in a lord’s retinue, +For she had borne me to a losel vile, +A spendthrift of his substance and himself. +The good king Thibault after that I serv’d, +To peculating here my thoughts were turn’d, +Whereof I give account in this dire heat.” + +Straight Ciriatto, from whose mouth a tusk +Issued on either side, as from a boar, +Ript him with one of these. ’Twixt evil claws +The mouse had fall’n: but Barbariccia cried, +Seizing him with both arms: “Stand thou apart, +While I do fix him on my prong transpierc’d.” +Then added, turning to my guide his face, +“Inquire of him, if more thou wish to learn, +Ere he again be rent.” My leader thus: +“Then tell us of the partners in thy guilt; +Knowest thou any sprung of Latian land +Under the tar?”—“I parted,” he replied, +“But now from one, who sojourn’d not far thence; +So were I under shelter now with him! +Nor hook nor talon then should scare me more.”—. + +“Too long we suffer,” Libicocco cried, +Then, darting forth a prong, seiz’d on his arm, +And mangled bore away the sinewy part. +Him Draghinazzo by his thighs beneath +Would next have caught, whence angrily their chief, +Turning on all sides round, with threat’ning brow +Restrain’d them. When their strife a little ceas’d, +Of him, who yet was gazing on his wound, +My teacher thus without delay inquir’d: +“Who was the spirit, from whom by evil hap +Parting, as thou has told, thou cam’st to shore?”— + +“It was the friar Gomita,” he rejoin’d, +“He of Gallura, vessel of all guile, +Who had his master’s enemies in hand, +And us’d them so that they commend him well. +Money he took, and them at large dismiss’d. +So he reports: and in each other charge +Committed to his keeping, play’d the part +Of barterer to the height: with him doth herd +The chief of Logodoro, Michel Zanche. +Sardinia is a theme, whereof their tongue +Is never weary. Out! alas! behold +That other, how he grins! More would I say, +But tremble lest he mean to maul me sore.” + +Their captain then to Farfarello turning, +Who roll’d his moony eyes in act to strike, +Rebuk’d him thus: “Off! cursed bird! Avaunt!”— + +“If ye desire to see or hear,” he thus +Quaking with dread resum’d, “or Tuscan spirits +Or Lombard, I will cause them to appear. +Meantime let these ill talons bate their fury, +So that no vengeance they may fear from them, +And I, remaining in this self-same place, +Will for myself but one, make sev’n appear, +When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for so +Our custom is to call each other up.” + +Cagnazzo at that word deriding grinn’d, +Then wagg’d the head and spake: “Hear his device, +Mischievous as he is, to plunge him down.” + +Whereto he thus, who fail’d not in rich store +Of nice-wove toils; “Mischief forsooth extreme, +Meant only to procure myself more woe!” + +No longer Alichino then refrain’d, +But thus, the rest gainsaying, him bespake: +“If thou do cast thee down, I not on foot +Will chase thee, but above the pitch will beat +My plumes. Quit we the vantage ground, and let +The bank be as a shield, that we may see +If singly thou prevail against us all.” + +Now, reader, of new sport expect to hear! + +They each one turn’d his eyes to the’ other shore, +He first, who was the hardest to persuade. +The spirit of Navarre chose well his time, +Planted his feet on land, and at one leap +Escaping disappointed their resolve. + +Them quick resentment stung, but him the most, +Who was the cause of failure; in pursuit +He therefore sped, exclaiming; “Thou art caught.” + +But little it avail’d: terror outstripp’d +His following flight: the other plung’d beneath, +And he with upward pinion rais’d his breast: +E’en thus the water-fowl, when she perceives +The falcon near, dives instant down, while he +Enrag’d and spent retires. That mockery +In Calcabrina fury stirr’d, who flew +After him, with desire of strife inflam’d; +And, for the barterer had ’scap’d, so turn’d +His talons on his comrade. O’er the dyke +In grapple close they join’d; but the’ other prov’d +A goshawk able to rend well his foe; + +And in the boiling lake both fell. The heat +Was umpire soon between them, but in vain +To lift themselves they strove, so fast were glued +Their pennons. Barbariccia, as the rest, +That chance lamenting, four in flight dispatch’d +From the’ other coast, with all their weapons arm’d. +They, to their post on each side speedily +Descending, stretch’d their hooks toward the fiends, +Who flounder’d, inly burning from their scars: +And we departing left them to that broil. + + + + +CANTO XXIII + + +In silence and in solitude we went, +One first, the other following his steps, +As minor friars journeying on their road. + +The present fray had turn’d my thoughts to muse +Upon old Aesop’s fable, where he told +What fate unto the mouse and frog befell. +For language hath not sounds more like in sense, +Than are these chances, if the origin +And end of each be heedfully compar’d. +And as one thought bursts from another forth, +So afterward from that another sprang, +Which added doubly to my former fear. +For thus I reason’d: “These through us have been +So foil’d, with loss and mock’ry so complete, +As needs must sting them sore. If anger then +Be to their evil will conjoin’d, more fell +They shall pursue us, than the savage hound +Snatches the leveret, panting ’twixt his jaws.” + +Already I perceiv’d my hair stand all +On end with terror, and look’d eager back. + +“Teacher,” I thus began, “if speedily +Thyself and me thou hide not, much I dread +Those evil talons. Even now behind +They urge us: quick imagination works +So forcibly, that I already feel them.” + +He answer’d: “Were I form’d of leaded glass, +I should not sooner draw unto myself +Thy outward image, than I now imprint +That from within. This moment came thy thoughts +Presented before mine, with similar act +And count’nance similar, so that from both +I one design have fram’d. If the right coast +Incline so much, that we may thence descend +Into the other chasm, we shall escape +Secure from this imagined pursuit.” + +He had not spoke his purpose to the end, +When I from far beheld them with spread wings +Approach to take us. Suddenly my guide +Caught me, ev’n as a mother that from sleep +Is by the noise arous’d, and near her sees +The climbing fires, who snatches up her babe +And flies ne’er pausing, careful more of him +Than of herself, that but a single vest +Clings round her limbs. Down from the jutting beach +Supine he cast him, to that pendent rock, +Which closes on one part the other chasm. + +Never ran water with such hurrying pace +Adown the tube to turn a landmill’s wheel, +When nearest it approaches to the spokes, +As then along that edge my master ran, +Carrying me in his bosom, as a child, +Not a companion. Scarcely had his feet +Reach’d to the lowest of the bed beneath, + +When over us the steep they reach’d; but fear +In him was none; for that high Providence, +Which plac’d them ministers of the fifth foss, +Power of departing thence took from them all. + +There in the depth we saw a painted tribe, +Who pac’d with tardy steps around, and wept, +Faint in appearance and o’ercome with toil. +Caps had they on, with hoods, that fell low down +Before their eyes, in fashion like to those +Worn by the monks in Cologne. Their outside +Was overlaid with gold, dazzling to view, +But leaden all within, and of such weight, +That Frederick’s compar’d to these were straw. +Oh, everlasting wearisome attire! + +We yet once more with them together turn’d +To leftward, on their dismal moan intent. +But by the weight oppress’d, so slowly came +The fainting people, that our company +Was chang’d at every movement of the step. + +Whence I my guide address’d: “See that thou find +Some spirit, whose name may by his deeds be known, +And to that end look round thee as thou go’st.” + +Then one, who understood the Tuscan voice, +Cried after us aloud: “Hold in your feet, +Ye who so swiftly speed through the dusk air. +Perchance from me thou shalt obtain thy wish.” + +Whereat my leader, turning, me bespake: +“Pause, and then onward at their pace proceed.” + +I staid, and saw two Spirits in whose look +Impatient eagerness of mind was mark’d +To overtake me; but the load they bare +And narrow path retarded their approach. + +Soon as arriv’d, they with an eye askance +Perus’d me, but spake not: then turning each +To other thus conferring said: “This one +Seems, by the action of his throat, alive. +And, be they dead, what privilege allows +They walk unmantled by the cumbrous stole?” + +Then thus to me: “Tuscan, who visitest +The college of the mourning hypocrites, +Disdain not to instruct us who thou art.” + +“By Arno’s pleasant stream,” I thus replied, +“In the great city I was bred and grew, +And wear the body I have ever worn. +but who are ye, from whom such mighty grief, +As now I witness, courseth down your cheeks? +What torment breaks forth in this bitter woe?” +“Our bonnets gleaming bright with orange hue,” +One of them answer’d, “are so leaden gross, +That with their weight they make the balances +To crack beneath them. Joyous friars we were, +Bologna’s natives, Catalano I, +He Loderingo nam’d, and by thy land +Together taken, as men used to take +A single and indifferent arbiter, +To reconcile their strifes. How there we sped, +Gardingo’s vicinage can best declare.” + +“O friars!” I began, “your miseries—” +But there brake off, for one had caught my eye, +Fix’d to a cross with three stakes on the ground: +He, when he saw me, writh’d himself, throughout +Distorted, ruffling with deep sighs his beard. +And Catalano, who thereof was ’ware, + +Thus spake: “That pierced spirit, whom intent +Thou view’st, was he who gave the Pharisees +Counsel, that it were fitting for one man +To suffer for the people. He doth lie +Transverse; nor any passes, but him first +Behoves make feeling trial how each weighs. +In straits like this along the foss are plac’d +The father of his consort, and the rest +Partakers in that council, seed of ill +And sorrow to the Jews.” I noted then, +How Virgil gaz’d with wonder upon him, +Thus abjectly extended on the cross +In banishment eternal. To the friar +He next his words address’d: “We pray ye tell, +If so be lawful, whether on our right +Lies any opening in the rock, whereby +We both may issue hence, without constraint +On the dark angels, that compell’d they come +To lead us from this depth.” He thus replied: +“Nearer than thou dost hope, there is a rock +From the next circle moving, which o’ersteps +Each vale of horror, save that here his cope +Is shatter’d. By the ruin ye may mount: +For on the side it slants, and most the height +Rises below.” With head bent down awhile +My leader stood, then spake: “He warn’d us ill, +Who yonder hangs the sinners on his hook.” + +To whom the friar: At Bologna erst +“I many vices of the devil heard, +Among the rest was said, ‘He is a liar, +And the father of lies!’” When he had spoke, +My leader with large strides proceeded on, +Somewhat disturb’d with anger in his look. + +I therefore left the spirits heavy laden, +And following, his beloved footsteps mark’d. + + + + +CANTO XXIV + + +In the year’s early nonage, when the sun +Tempers his tresses in Aquarius’ urn, +And now towards equal day the nights recede, +When as 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 chang’d its count’nance, 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 cur’d; for at the fallen bridge +Arriving, towards 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 open’d wide his arm +And took me up. As one, who, while he works, +Computes his labour’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 capp’d with lead +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 of our descent we reach’d +From the last flag: soon as to that arriv’d, +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’er consumes his days +Leaveth such vestige of himself on earth, +As smoke in air or foam upon the wave. +Thou therefore rise: vanish 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 escap’d sufficeth not. +If well thou note me, profit by my words.” + +I straightway rose, and show’d myself less spent +Than 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 ceas’d not, as we journey’d, so to seem +Least faint; whereat a voice from the other foss +Did issue forth, for utt’rance suited ill. +Though on the arch that crosses there I stood, +What were the words I knew not, but who spake +Seem’d mov’d 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 Lybia vaunt no more: if Jaculus, +Pareas and Chelyder be her brood, +Cenchris and Amphisboena, plagues so dire +Or in such numbers swarming ne’er she shew’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, +Transpierc’d him. Far more quickly than e’er pen +Wrote O or I, he kindled, burn’d, and chang’d +To ashes, all pour’d out upon the earth. +When there dissolv’d 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 endur’d, 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 inquir’d, and thus in few +He answer’d: “Vanni Fucci am I call’d, +Not long since rained down from Tuscany +To this dire gullet. Me the beastial life +And not the human pleas’d, mule that I was, +Who in Pistoia found my worthy den.” + +I then to Virgil: “Bid him stir not hence, +And ask what crime did thrust him hither: once +A man I knew him choleric and bloody.” + +The sinner heard and feign’d not, but towards me +His mind directing and his face, wherein +Was dismal shame depictur’d, 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 pines, +Then Florence changeth citizens and laws. +From Valdimagra, drawn by wrathful Mars, +A vapour 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.” + + + + +CANTO XXV + + +When he had spoke, the sinner rais’d his hands +Pointed in mockery, and cried: “Take them, God! +I level them at thee!” From that day forth +The serpents were my friends; for round his neck +One of then rolling twisted, as it said, +“Be silent, tongue!” Another to his arms +Upgliding, tied them, riveting itself +So close, it took from them the power to move. + +Pistoia! Ah Pistoia! why dost doubt +To turn thee into ashes, cumb’ring earth +No longer, since in evil act so far +Thou hast outdone thy seed? I did not mark, +Through all the gloomy circles of the’ abyss, +Spirit, that swell’d so proudly ’gainst his God, +Not him, who headlong fell from Thebes. He fled, +Nor utter’d more; and after him there came +A centaur full of fury, shouting, “Where +Where is the caitiff?” On Maremma’s marsh +Swarm not the serpent tribe, as on his haunch +They swarm’d, to where the human face begins. +Behind his head upon the shoulders lay, +With open wings, a dragon breathing fire +On whomsoe’er he met. To me my guide: +“Cacus is this, who underneath the rock +Of Aventine spread oft a lake of blood. +He, from his brethren parted, here must tread +A different journey, for his fraudful theft +Of the great herd, that near him stall’d; whence found +His felon deeds their end, beneath the mace +Of stout Alcides, that perchance laid on +A hundred blows, and not the tenth was felt.” + +While yet he spake, the centaur sped away: +And under us three spirits came, of whom +Nor I nor he was ware, till they exclaim’d; +“Say who are ye?” We then brake off discourse, +Intent on these alone. I knew them not; +But, as it chanceth oft, befell, that one +Had need to name another. “Where,” said he, +“Doth Cianfa lurk?” I, for a sign my guide +Should stand attentive, plac’d against my lips +The finger lifted. If, O reader! now +Thou be not apt to credit what I tell, +No marvel; for myself do scarce allow +The witness of mine eyes. But as I looked +Toward them, lo! a serpent with six feet +Springs forth on one, and fastens full upon him: +His midmost grasp’d the belly, a forefoot +Seiz’d on each arm (while deep in either cheek +He flesh’d his fangs); the hinder on the thighs +Were spread, ’twixt which the tail inserted curl’d +Upon the reins behind. Ivy ne’er clasp’d +A dodder’d oak, as round the other’s limbs +The hideous monster intertwin’d his own. +Then, as they both had been of burning wax, +Each melted into other, mingling hues, +That which was either now was seen no more. +Thus up the shrinking paper, ere it burns, +A brown tint glides, not turning yet to black, +And the clean white expires. The other two +Look’d on exclaiming: “Ah, how dost thou change, +Agnello! See! Thou art nor double now, + +“Nor only one.” The two heads now became +One, and two figures blended in one form +Appear’d, where both were lost. Of the four lengths +Two arms were made: the belly and the chest +The thighs and legs into such members chang’d, +As never eye hath seen. Of former shape +All trace was vanish’d. Two yet neither seem’d +That image miscreate, and so pass’d on +With tardy steps. As underneath the scourge +Of the fierce dog-star, that lays bare the fields, +Shifting from brake to brake, the lizard seems +A flash of lightning, if he thwart the road, +So toward th’ entrails of the other two +Approaching seem’d, an adder all on fire, +As the dark pepper-grain, livid and swart. +In that part, whence our life is nourish’d first, +One he transpierc’d; then down before him fell +Stretch’d out. The pierced spirit look’d on him +But spake not; yea stood motionless and yawn’d, +As if by sleep or fev’rous fit assail’d. +He ey’d the serpent, and the serpent him. +One from the wound, the other from the mouth +Breath’d a thick smoke, whose vap’ry columns join’d. + +Lucan in mute attention now may hear, +Nor thy disastrous fate, Sabellus! tell, +Nor shine, Nasidius! Ovid now be mute. +What if in warbling fiction he record +Cadmus and Arethusa, to a snake +Him chang’d, and her into a fountain clear, +I envy not; for never face to face +Two natures thus transmuted did he sing, +Wherein both shapes were ready to assume +The other’s substance. They in mutual guise +So answer’d, that the serpent split his train +Divided to a fork, and the pierc’d spirit +Drew close his steps together, legs and thighs +Compacted, that no sign of juncture soon +Was visible: the tail disparted took +The figure which the spirit lost, its skin +Soft’ning, his indurated to a rind. +The shoulders next I mark’d, that ent’ring join’d +The monster’s arm-pits, whose two shorter feet +So lengthen’d, as the other’s dwindling shrunk. +The feet behind then twisting up became +That part that man conceals, which in the wretch +Was cleft in twain. While both the shadowy smoke +With a new colour veils, and generates +Th’ excrescent pile on one, peeling it off +From th’ other body, lo! upon his feet +One upright rose, and prone the other fell. +Not yet their glaring and malignant lamps +Were shifted, though each feature chang’d beneath. +Of him who stood erect, the mounting face +Retreated towards the temples, and what there +Superfluous matter came, shot out in ears +From the smooth cheeks, the rest, not backward dragg’d, +Of its excess did shape the nose; and swell’d +Into due size protuberant the lips. +He, on the earth who lay, meanwhile extends +His sharpen’d visage, and draws down the ears +Into the head, as doth the slug his horns. +His tongue continuous before and apt +For utt’rance, severs; and the other’s fork +Closing unites. That done the smoke was laid. +The soul, transform’d into the brute, glides off, +Hissing along the vale, and after him +The other talking sputters; but soon turn’d +His new-grown shoulders on him, and in few +Thus to another spake: “Along this path +Crawling, as I have done, speed Buoso now!” + +So saw I fluctuate in successive change +Th’ unsteady ballast of the seventh hold: +And here if aught my tongue have swerv’d, events +So strange may be its warrant. O’er mine eyes +Confusion hung, and on my thoughts amaze. + +Yet ’scap’d they not so covertly, but well +I mark’d Sciancato: he alone it was +Of the three first that came, who chang’d not: thou, +The other’s fate, Gaville, still dost rue. + + + + +CANTO XXVI + + +Florence exult! for thou so mightily +Hast thriven, that o’er land and sea thy wings +Thou beatest, and thy name spreads over hell! +Among the plund’rers such the three I found +Thy citizens, whence shame to me thy son, +And no proud honour to thyself redounds. + +But if our minds, when dreaming near the dawn, +Are of the truth presageful, thou ere long +Shalt feel what Prato, (not to say the rest) +Would fain might come upon thee; and that chance +Were in good time, if it befell thee now. +Would so it were, since it must needs befall! +For as time wears me, I shall grieve the more. + +We from the depth departed; and my guide +Remounting scal’d the flinty steps, which late +We downward trac’d, and drew me up the steep. +Pursuing thus our solitary way +Among the crags and splinters of the rock, +Sped not our feet without the help of hands. + +Then sorrow seiz’d me, which e’en now revives, +As my thought turns again to what I saw, +And, more than I am wont, I rein and curb +The powers of nature in me, lest they run +Where Virtue guides not; that if aught of good +My gentle star, or something better gave me, +I envy not myself the precious boon. + +As in that season, when the sun least veils +His face that lightens all, what time the fly +Gives way to the shrill gnat, the peasant then +Upon some cliff reclin’d, beneath him sees +Fire-flies innumerous spangling o’er the vale, +Vineyard or tilth, where his day-labour lies: +With flames so numberless throughout its space +Shone the eighth chasm, apparent, when the depth +Was to my view expos’d. As he, whose wrongs +The bears aveng’d, at its departure saw +Elijah’s chariot, when the steeds erect +Rais’d their steep flight for heav’n; his eyes meanwhile, +Straining pursu’d them, till the flame alone +Upsoaring like a misty speck he kenn’d; +E’en thus along the gulf moves every flame, +A sinner so enfolded close in each, +That none exhibits token of the theft. + +Upon the bridge I forward bent to look, +And grasp’d a flinty mass, or else had fall’n, +Though push’d not from the height. The guide, who mark’d +How I did gaze attentive, thus began: + +“Within these ardours are the spirits, each +Swath’d in confining fire.”—“Master, thy word,” +I answer’d, “hath assur’d me; yet I deem’d +Already of the truth, already wish’d +To ask thee, who is in yon fire, that comes +So parted at the summit, as it seem’d +Ascending from that funeral pile, where lay +The Theban brothers?” He replied: “Within +Ulysses there and Diomede endure +Their penal tortures, thus to vengeance now +Together hasting, as erewhile to wrath. +These in the flame with ceaseless groans deplore +The ambush of the horse, that open’d wide +A portal for that goodly seed to pass, +Which sow’d imperial Rome; nor less the guile +Lament they, whence of her Achilles ’reft +Deidamia yet in death complains. +And there is rued the stratagem, that Troy +Of her Palladium spoil’d.”—“If they have power +Of utt’rance from within these sparks,” said I, +“O master! think my prayer a thousand fold +In repetition urg’d, that thou vouchsafe +To pause, till here the horned flame arrive. +See, how toward it with desire I bend.” + +He thus: “Thy prayer is worthy of much praise, +And I accept it therefore: but do thou +Thy tongue refrain: to question them be mine, +For I divine thy wish: and they perchance, +For they were Greeks, might shun discourse with thee.” + +When there the flame had come, where time and place +Seem’d fitting to my guide, he thus began: +“O ye, who dwell two spirits in one fire! +If living I of you did merit aught, +Whate’er the measure were of that desert, +When in the world my lofty strain I pour’d, +Move ye not on, till one of you unfold +In what clime death o’ertook him self-destroy’d.” + +Of the old flame forthwith the greater horn +Began to roll, murmuring, as a fire +That labours with the wind, then to and fro +Wagging the top, as a tongue uttering sounds, +Threw out its voice, and spake: “When I escap’d +From Circe, who beyond a circling year +Had held me near Caieta, by her charms, +Ere thus Aeneas yet had nam’d the shore, +Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence +Of my old father, nor return of love, +That should have crown’d Penelope with joy, +Could overcome in me the zeal I had +T’ explore the world, and search the ways of life, +Man’s evil and his virtue. Forth I sail’d +Into the deep illimitable main, +With but one bark, and the small faithful band +That yet cleav’d to me. As Iberia far, +Far as Morocco either shore I saw, +And the Sardinian and each isle beside +Which round that ocean bathes. Tardy with age +Were I and my companions, when we came +To the strait pass, where Hercules ordain’d +The bound’ries not to be o’erstepp’d by man. +The walls of Seville to my right I left, +On the’ other hand already Ceuta past. + +“O brothers!” I began, “who to the west +Through perils without number now have reach’d, +To this the short remaining watch, that yet +Our senses have to wake, refuse not proof +Of the unpeopled world, following the track +Of Phoebus. Call to mind from whence we sprang: +Ye were not form’d to live the life of brutes +But virtue to pursue and knowledge high. +With these few words I sharpen’d for the voyage +The mind of my associates, that I then +Could scarcely have withheld them. To the dawn +Our poop we turn’d, and for the witless flight +Made our oars wings, still gaining on the left. +Each star of the’ other pole night now beheld, +And ours so low, that from the ocean-floor +It rose not. Five times re-illum’d, as oft +Vanish’d the light from underneath the moon +Since the deep way we enter’d, when from far +Appear’d a mountain dim, loftiest methought +Of all I e’er beheld. Joy seiz’d us straight, +But soon to mourning changed. From the new land +A whirlwind sprung, and at her foremost side +Did strike the vessel. Thrice it whirl’d her round +With all the waves, the fourth time lifted up +The poop, and sank the prow: so fate decreed: +And over us the booming billow clos’d.” + + + + +CANTO XVII + + +Now upward rose the flame, and still’d its light +To speak no more, and now pass’d on with leave +From the mild poet gain’d, when following came +Another, from whose top a sound confus’d, +Forth issuing, drew our eyes that way to look. + +As the Sicilian bull, that rightfully +His cries first echoed, who had shap’d its mould, +Did so rebellow, with the voice of him +Tormented, that the brazen monster seem’d +Pierc’d through with pain; thus while no way they found +Nor avenue immediate through the flame, +Into its language turn’d the dismal words: +But soon as they had won their passage forth, +Up from the point, which vibrating obey’d +Their motion at the tongue, these sounds we heard: +“O thou! to whom I now direct my voice! +That lately didst exclaim in Lombard phrase, + +“Depart thou, I solicit thee no more, +Though somewhat tardy I perchance arrive +Let it not irk thee here to pause awhile, +And with me parley: lo! it irks not me +And yet I burn. If but e’en now thou fall +into this blind world, from that pleasant land +Of Latium, whence I draw my sum of guilt, +Tell me if those, who in Romagna dwell, +Have peace or war. For of the mountains there +Was I, betwixt Urbino and the height, +Whence Tyber first unlocks his mighty flood.” + +Leaning I listen’d yet with heedful ear, +When, as he touch’d my side, the leader thus: +“Speak thou: he is a Latian.” My reply +Was ready, and I spake without delay: + +“O spirit! who art hidden here below! +Never was thy Romagna without war +In her proud tyrants’ bosoms, nor is now: +But open war there left I none. The state, +Ravenna hath maintain’d this many a year, +Is steadfast. There Polenta’s eagle broods, +And in his broad circumference of plume +O’ershadows Cervia. The green talons grasp +The land, that stood erewhile the proof so long, +And pil’d in bloody heap the host of France. + +“The’ old mastiff of Verruchio and the young, +That tore Montagna in their wrath, still make, +Where they are wont, an augre of their fangs. + +“Lamone’s city and Santerno’s range +Under the lion of the snowy lair. +Inconstant partisan! that changeth sides, +Or ever summer yields to winter’s frost. +And she, whose flank is wash’d of Savio’s wave, +As ’twixt the level and the steep she lies, +Lives so ’twixt tyrant power and liberty. + +“Now tell us, I entreat thee, who art thou? +Be not more hard than others. In the world, +So may thy name still rear its forehead high.” + +Then roar’d awhile the fire, its sharpen’d point +On either side wav’d, and thus breath’d at last: +“If I did think, my answer were to one, +Who ever could return unto the world, +This flame should rest unshaken. But since ne’er, +If true be told me, any from this depth +Has found his upward way, I answer thee, +Nor fear lest infamy record the words. + +“A man of arms at first, I cloth’d me then +In good Saint Francis’ girdle, hoping so +T’ have made amends. And certainly my hope +Had fail’d not, but that he, whom curses light on, +The’ high priest again seduc’d me into sin. +And how and wherefore listen while I tell. +Long as this spirit mov’d the bones and pulp +My mother gave me, less my deeds bespake +The nature of the lion than the fox. +All ways of winding subtlety I knew, +And with such art conducted, that the sound +Reach’d the world’s limit. Soon as to that part +Of life I found me come, when each behoves +To lower sails and gather in the lines; +That which before had pleased me then I rued, +And to repentance and confession turn’d; +Wretch that I was! and well it had bested me! +The chief of the new Pharisees meantime, +Waging his warfare near the Lateran, +Not with the Saracens or Jews (his foes +All Christians were, nor against Acre one +Had fought, nor traffic’d in the Soldan’s land), +He his great charge nor sacred ministry +In himself, rev’renc’d, nor in me that cord, +Which us’d to mark with leanness whom it girded. +As in Socrate, Constantine besought +To cure his leprosy Sylvester’s aid, +So me to cure the fever of his pride +This man besought: my counsel to that end +He ask’d: and I was silent: for his words +Seem’d drunken: but forthwith he thus resum’d: +‘From thy heart banish fear: of all offence +I hitherto absolve thee. In return, +Teach me my purpose so to execute, +That Penestrino cumber earth no more. +Heav’n, as thou knowest, I have power to shut +And open: and the keys are therefore twain, +The which my predecessor meanly priz’d.’” + +Then, yielding to the forceful arguments, +Of silence as more perilous I deem’d, +And answer’d: “Father! since thou washest me +Clear of that guilt wherein I now must fall, +Large promise with performance scant, be sure, +Shall make thee triumph in thy lofty seat.” + +“When I was number’d with the dead, then came +Saint Francis for me; but a cherub dark +He met, who cried: ‘Wrong me not; he is mine, +And must below to join the wretched crew, +For the deceitful counsel which he gave. +E’er since I watch’d him, hov’ring at his hair, +No power can the impenitent absolve; +Nor to repent and will at once consist, +By contradiction absolute forbid.’” +Oh mis’ry! how I shook myself, when he +Seiz’d me, and cried, “Thou haply thought’st me not +A disputant in logic so exact.” +To Minos down he bore me, and the judge +Twin’d eight times round his callous back the tail, +Which biting with excess of rage, he spake: +“This is a guilty soul, that in the fire +Must vanish. Hence perdition-doom’d I rove +A prey to rankling sorrow in this garb.” + +When he had thus fulfill’d his words, the flame +In dolour parted, beating to and fro, +And writhing its sharp horn. We onward went, +I and my leader, up along the rock, +Far as another arch, that overhangs +The foss, wherein the penalty is paid +Of those, who load them with committed sin. + + + + +CANTO XXVIII + + +Who, e’en in words unfetter’d, might at full +Tell of the wounds and blood that now I saw, +Though he repeated oft the tale? No tongue +So vast a theme could equal, speech and thought +Both impotent alike. If in one band +Collected, stood the people all, who e’er +Pour’d on Apulia’s happy soil their blood, +Slain by the Trojans, and in that long war +When of the rings the measur’d booty made +A pile so high, as Rome’s historian writes +Who errs not, with the multitude, that felt +The grinding force of Guiscard’s Norman steel, +And those the rest, whose bones are gather’d yet +At Ceperano, there where treachery +Branded th’ Apulian name, or where beyond +Thy walls, O Tagliacozzo, without arms +The old Alardo conquer’d; and his limbs +One were to show transpierc’d, another his +Clean lopt away; a spectacle like this +Were but a thing of nought, to the’ hideous sight +Of the ninth chasm. A rundlet, that hath lost +Its middle or side stave, gapes not so wide, +As one I mark’d, torn from the chin throughout +Down to the hinder passage: ’twixt the legs +Dangling his entrails hung, the midriff lay +Open to view, and wretched ventricle, +That turns th’ englutted aliment to dross. + +Whilst eagerly I fix on him my gaze, +He ey’d me, with his hands laid his breast bare, +And cried; “Now mark how I do rip me! lo! + +“How is Mohammed mangled! before me +Walks Ali weeping, from the chin his face +Cleft to the forelock; and the others all +Whom here thou seest, while they liv’d, did sow +Scandal and schism, and therefore thus are rent. +A fiend is here behind, who with his sword +Hacks us thus cruelly, slivering again +Each of this ream, when we have compast round +The dismal way, for first our gashes close +Ere we repass before him. But say who +Art thou, that standest musing on the rock, +Haply so lingering to delay the pain +Sentenc’d upon thy crimes?”—“Him death not yet,” +My guide rejoin’d, “hath overta’en, nor sin +Conducts to torment; but, that he may make +Full trial of your state, I who am dead +Must through the depths of hell, from orb to orb, +Conduct him. Trust my words, for they are true.” + +More than a hundred spirits, when that they heard, +Stood in the foss to mark me, through amazed, +Forgetful of their pangs. “Thou, who perchance +Shalt shortly view the sun, this warning thou +Bear to Dolcino: bid him, if he wish not +Here soon to follow me, that with good store +Of food he arm him, lest impris’ning snows +Yield him a victim to Novara’s power, +No easy conquest else.” With foot uprais’d +For stepping, spake Mohammed, on the ground +Then fix’d it to depart. Another shade, +Pierc’d in the throat, his nostrils mutilate +E’en from beneath the eyebrows, and one ear +Lopt off, who with the rest through wonder stood +Gazing, before the rest advanc’d, and bar’d +His wind-pipe, that without was all o’ersmear’d +With crimson stain. “O thou!” said he, “whom sin +Condemns not, and whom erst (unless too near +Resemblance do deceive me) I aloft +Have seen on Latian ground, call thou to mind +Piero of Medicina, if again +Returning, thou behold’st the pleasant land +That from Vercelli slopes to Mercabo; + +“And there instruct the twain, whom Fano boasts +Her worthiest sons, Guido and Angelo, +That if ’t is giv’n us here to scan aright +The future, they out of life’s tenement +Shall be cast forth, and whelm’d under the waves +Near to Cattolica, through perfidy +Of a fell tyrant. ’Twixt the Cyprian isle +And Balearic, ne’er hath Neptune seen +An injury so foul, by pirates done +Or Argive crew of old. That one-ey’d traitor +(Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain +His eye had still lack’d sight of) them shall bring +To conf’rence with him, then so shape his end, +That they shall need not ’gainst Focara’s wind +Offer up vow nor pray’r.” I answering thus: + +“Declare, as thou dost wish that I above +May carry tidings of thee, who is he, +In whom that sight doth wake such sad remembrance?” + +Forthwith he laid his hand on the cheek-bone +Of one, his fellow-spirit, and his jaws +Expanding, cried: “Lo! this is he I wot of; +He speaks not for himself: the outcast this +Who overwhelm’d the doubt in Caesar’s mind, +Affirming that delay to men prepar’d +Was ever harmful.” Oh how terrified +Methought was Curio, from whose throat was cut +The tongue, which spake that hardy word. Then one +Maim’d of each hand, uplifted in the gloom +The bleeding stumps, that they with gory spots +Sullied his face, and cried: “‘Remember thee +Of Mosca, too, I who, alas! exclaim’d, +‘The deed once done there is an end,’ that prov’d +A seed of sorrow to the Tuscan race.” + +I added: “Ay, and death to thine own tribe.” + +Whence heaping woe on woe he hurried off, +As one grief stung to madness. But I there +Still linger’d to behold the troop, and saw +Things, such as I may fear without more proof +To tell of, but that conscience makes me firm, +The boon companion, who her strong breast-plate +Buckles on him, that feels no guilt within +And bids him on and fear not. Without doubt +I saw, and yet it seems to pass before me, +A headless trunk, that even as the rest +Of the sad flock pac’d onward. By the hair +It bore the sever’d member, lantern-wise +Pendent in hand, which look’d at us and said, + +“Woe’s me!” The spirit lighted thus himself, +And two there were in one, and one in two. +How that may be he knows who ordereth so. + +When at the bridge’s foot direct he stood, +His arm aloft he rear’d, thrusting the head +Full in our view, that nearer we might hear +The words, which thus it utter’d: “Now behold +This grievous torment, thou, who breathing go’st +To spy the dead; behold if any else +Be terrible as this. And that on earth +Thou mayst bear tidings of me, know that I +Am Bertrand, he of Born, who gave King John +The counsel mischievous. Father and son +I set at mutual war. For Absalom +And David more did not Ahitophel, +Spurring them on maliciously to strife. +For parting those so closely knit, my brain +Parted, alas! I carry from its source, +That in this trunk inhabits. Thus the law +Of retribution fiercely works in me.” + + + + +CANTO XXIX + + +So were mine eyes inebriate with view +Of the vast multitude, whom various wounds +Disfigur’d, that they long’d to stay and weep. + +But Virgil rous’d me: “What yet gazest on? +Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight below +Among the maim’d and miserable shades? +Thou hast not shewn in any chasm beside +This weakness. Know, if thou wouldst number them +That two and twenty miles the valley winds +Its circuit, and already is the moon +Beneath our feet: the time permitted now +Is short, and more not seen remains to see.” + +“If thou,” I straight replied, “hadst weigh’d the cause +For which I look’d, thou hadst perchance excus’d +The tarrying still.” My leader part pursu’d +His way, the while I follow’d, answering him, +And adding thus: “Within that cave I deem, +Whereon so fixedly I held my ken, +There is a spirit dwells, one of my blood, +Wailing the crime that costs him now so dear.” + +Then spake my master: “Let thy soul no more +Afflict itself for him. Direct elsewhere +Its thought, and leave him. At the bridge’s foot +I mark’d how he did point with menacing look +At thee, and heard him by the others nam’d +Geri of Bello. Thou so wholly then +Wert busied with his spirit, who once rul’d +The towers of Hautefort, that thou lookedst not +That way, ere he was gone.”—“O guide belov’d! +His violent death yet unaveng’d,” said I, +“By any, who are partners in his shame, +Made him contemptuous: therefore, as I think, +He pass’d me speechless by; and doing so +Hath made me more compassionate his fate.” + +So we discours’d to where the rock first show’d +The other valley, had more light been there, +E’en to the lowest depth. Soon as we came +O’er the last cloister in the dismal rounds +Of Malebolge, and the brotherhood +Were to our view expos’d, then many a dart +Of sore lament assail’d me, headed all +With points of thrilling pity, that I clos’d +Both ears against the volley with mine hands. + +As were the torment, if each lazar-house +Of Valdichiana, in the sultry time +’Twixt July and September, with the isle +Sardinia and Maremma’s pestilent fen, +Had heap’d their maladies all in one foss +Together; such was here the torment: dire +The stench, as issuing steams from fester’d limbs. + +We on the utmost shore of the long rock +Descended still to leftward. Then my sight +Was livelier to explore the depth, wherein +The minister of the most mighty Lord, +All-searching Justice, dooms to punishment +The forgers noted on her dread record. + +More rueful was it not methinks to see +The nation in Aegina droop, what time +Each living thing, e’en to the little worm, +All fell, so full of malice was the air +(And afterward, as bards of yore have told, +The ancient people were restor’d anew +From seed of emmets) than was here to see +The spirits, that languish’d through the murky vale +Up-pil’d on many a stack. Confus’d they lay, +One o’er the belly, o’er the shoulders one +Roll’d of another; sideling crawl’d a third +Along the dismal pathway. Step by step +We journey’d on, in silence looking round +And list’ning those diseas’d, who strove in vain +To lift their forms. Then two I mark’d, that sat +Propp’d ’gainst each other, as two brazen pans +Set to retain the heat. From head to foot, +A tetter bark’d them round. Nor saw I e’er +Groom currying so fast, for whom his lord +Impatient waited, or himself perchance +Tir’d with long watching, as of these each one +Plied quickly his keen nails, through furiousness +Of ne’er abated pruriency. The crust +Came drawn from underneath in flakes, like scales +Scrap’d from the bream or fish of broader mail. + +“O thou, who with thy fingers rendest off +Thy coat of proof,” thus spake my guide to one, +“And sometimes makest tearing pincers of them, +Tell me if any born of Latian land +Be among these within: so may thy nails +Serve thee for everlasting to this toil.” + +“Both are of Latium,” weeping he replied, +“Whom tortur’d thus thou seest: but who art thou +That hast inquir’d of us?” To whom my guide: +“One that descend with this man, who yet lives, +From rock to rock, and show him hell’s abyss.” + +Then started they asunder, and each turn’d +Trembling toward us, with the rest, whose ear +Those words redounding struck. To me my liege +Address’d him: “Speak to them whate’er thou list.” + +And I therewith began: “So may no time +Filch your remembrance from the thoughts of men +In th’ upper world, but after many suns +Survive it, as ye tell me, who ye are, +And of what race ye come. Your punishment, +Unseemly and disgustful in its kind, +Deter you not from opening thus much to me.” + +“Arezzo was my dwelling,” answer’d one, +“And me Albero of Sienna brought +To die by fire; but that, for which I died, +Leads me not here. True is in sport I told him, +That I had learn’d to wing my flight in air. +And he admiring much, as he was void +Of wisdom, will’d me to declare to him +The secret of mine art: and only hence, +Because I made him not a Daedalus, +Prevail’d on one suppos’d his sire to burn me. +But Minos to this chasm last of the ten, +For that I practis’d alchemy on earth, +Has doom’d me. Him no subterfuge eludes.” + +Then to the bard I spake: “Was ever race +Light as Sienna’s? Sure not France herself +Can show a tribe so frivolous and vain.” + +The other leprous spirit heard my words, +And thus return’d: “Be Stricca from this charge +Exempted, he who knew so temp’rately +To lay out fortune’s gifts; and Niccolo +Who first the spice’s costly luxury +Discover’d in that garden, where such seed +Roots deepest in the soil: and be that troop +Exempted, with whom Caccia of Asciano +Lavish’d his vineyards and wide-spreading woods, +And his rare wisdom Abbagliato show’d +A spectacle for all. That thou mayst know +Who seconds thee against the Siennese +Thus gladly, bend this way thy sharpen’d sight, +That well my face may answer to thy ken; +So shalt thou see I am Capocchio’s ghost, +Who forg’d transmuted metals by the power +Of alchemy; and if I scan thee right, +Thus needs must well remember how I aped +Creative nature by my subtle art.” + + + + +CANTO XXX + + +What time resentment burn’d in Juno’s breast +For Semele against the Theban blood, +As more than once in dire mischance was rued, +Such fatal frenzy seiz’d on Athamas, +That he his spouse beholding with a babe +Laden on either arm, “Spread out,” he cried, +“The meshes, that I take the lioness +And the young lions at the pass:” then forth +Stretch’d he his merciless talons, grasping one, +One helpless innocent, Learchus nam’d, +Whom swinging down he dash’d upon a rock, +And with her other burden self-destroy’d +The hapless mother plung’d: and when the pride +Of all-presuming Troy fell from its height, +By fortune overwhelm’d, and the old king +With his realm perish’d, then did Hecuba, +A wretch forlorn and captive, when she saw +Polyxena first slaughter’d, and her son, +Her Polydorus, on the wild sea-beach +Next met the mourner’s view, then reft of sense +Did she run barking even as a dog; +Such mighty power had grief to wrench her soul. +Bet ne’er the Furies or of Thebes or Troy +With such fell cruelty were seen, their goads +Infixing in the limbs of man or beast, +As now two pale and naked ghost I saw +That gnarling wildly scamper’d, like the swine +Excluded from his stye. One reach’d Capocchio, +And in the neck-joint sticking deep his fangs, +Dragg’d him, that o’er the solid pavement rubb’d +His belly stretch’d out prone. The other shape, +He of Arezzo, there left trembling, spake; +“That sprite of air is Schicchi; in like mood +Of random mischief vent he still his spite.” + +To whom I answ’ring: “Oh! as thou dost hope, +The other may not flesh its jaws on thee, +Be patient to inform us, who it is, +Ere it speed hence.”—“That is the ancient soul +Of wretched Myrrha,” he replied, “who burn’d +With most unholy flame for her own sire, + +“And a false shape assuming, so perform’d +The deed of sin; e’en as the other there, +That onward passes, dar’d to counterfeit +Donati’s features, to feign’d testament +The seal affixing, that himself might gain, +For his own share, the lady of the herd.” + +When vanish’d the two furious shades, on whom +Mine eye was held, I turn’d it back to view +The other cursed spirits. One I saw +In fashion like a lute, had but the groin +Been sever’d, where it meets the forked part. +Swoln dropsy, disproportioning the limbs +With ill-converted moisture, that the paunch +Suits not the visage, open’d wide his lips +Gasping as in the hectic man for drought, +One towards the chin, the other upward curl’d. + +“O ye, who in this world of misery, +Wherefore I know not, are exempt from pain,” +Thus he began, “attentively regard +Adamo’s woe. When living, full supply +Ne’er lack’d me of what most I coveted; +One drop of water now, alas! I crave. +The rills, that glitter down the grassy slopes +Of Casentino, making fresh and soft +The banks whereby they glide to Arno’s stream, +Stand ever in my view; and not in vain; +For more the pictur’d semblance dries me up, +Much more than the disease, which makes the flesh +Desert these shrivel’d cheeks. So from the place, +Where I transgress’d, stern justice urging me, +Takes means to quicken more my lab’ring sighs. +There is Romena, where I falsified +The metal with the Baptist’s form imprest, +For which on earth I left my body burnt. +But if I here might see the sorrowing soul +Of Guido, Alessandro, or their brother, +For Branda’s limpid spring I would not change +The welcome sight. One is e’en now within, +If truly the mad spirits tell, that round +Are wand’ring. But wherein besteads me that? +My limbs are fetter’d. Were I but so light, +That I each hundred years might move one inch, +I had set forth already on this path, +Seeking him out amidst the shapeless crew, +Although eleven miles it wind, not more +Than half of one across. They brought me down +Among this tribe; induc’d by them I stamp’d +The florens with three carats of alloy.” + +“Who are that abject pair,” I next inquir’d, +“That closely bounding thee upon thy right +Lie smoking, like a band in winter steep’d +In the chill stream?”—“When to this gulf I dropt,” +He answer’d, “here I found them; since that hour +They have not turn’d, nor ever shall, I ween, +Till time hath run his course. One is that dame +The false accuser of the Hebrew youth; +Sinon the other, that false Greek from Troy. +Sharp fever drains the reeky moistness out, +In such a cloud upsteam’d.” When that he heard, +One, gall’d perchance to be so darkly nam’d, +With clench’d hand smote him on the braced paunch, +That like a drum resounded: but forthwith +Adamo smote him on the face, the blow +Returning with his arm, that seem’d as hard. + +“Though my o’erweighty limbs have ta’en from me +The power to move,” said he, “I have an arm +At liberty for such employ.” To whom +Was answer’d: “When thou wentest to the fire, +Thou hadst it not so ready at command, +Then readier when it coin’d th’ impostor gold.” + +And thus the dropsied: “Ay, now speak’st thou true. +But there thou gav’st not such true testimony, +When thou wast question’d of the truth, at Troy.” + +“If I spake false, thou falsely stamp’dst the coin,” +Said Sinon; “I am here but for one fault, +And thou for more than any imp beside.” + +“Remember,” he replied, “O perjur’d one, +The horse remember, that did teem with death, +And all the world be witness to thy guilt.” + +“To thine,” return’d the Greek, “witness the thirst +Whence thy tongue cracks, witness the fluid mound, +Rear’d by thy belly up before thine eyes, +A mass corrupt.” To whom the coiner thus: +“Thy mouth gapes wide as ever to let pass +Its evil saying. Me if thirst assails, +Yet I am stuff’d with moisture. Thou art parch’d, +Pains rack thy head, no urging would’st thou need +To make thee lap Narcissus’ mirror up.” + +I was all fix’d to listen, when my guide +Admonish’d: “Now beware: a little more. +And I do quarrel with thee.” I perceiv’d +How angrily he spake, and towards him turn’d +With shame so poignant, as remember’d yet +Confounds me. As a man that dreams of harm +Befall’n him, dreaming wishes it a dream, +And that which is, desires as if it were not, +Such then was I, who wanting power to speak +Wish’d to excuse myself, and all the while +Excus’d me, though unweeting that I did. + +“More grievous fault than thine has been, less shame,” +My master cried, “might expiate. Therefore cast +All sorrow from thy soul; and if again +Chance bring thee, where like conference is held, +Think I am ever at thy side. To hear +Such wrangling is a joy for vulgar minds.” + + + + +CANTO XXXI + + +The very tongue, whose keen reproof before +Had wounded me, that either cheek was stain’d, +Now minister’d my cure. So have I heard, +Achilles and his father’s javelin caus’d +Pain first, and then the boon of health restor’d. + +Turning our back upon the vale of woe, +W cross’d th’ encircled mound in silence. There +Was twilight dim, that far long the gloom +Mine eye advanc’d not: but I heard a horn +Sounded aloud. The peal it blew had made +The thunder feeble. Following its course +The adverse way, my strained eyes were bent +On that one spot. So terrible a blast +Orlando blew not, when that dismal rout +O’erthrew the host of Charlemagne, and quench’d +His saintly warfare. Thitherward not long +My head was rais’d, when many lofty towers +Methought I spied. “Master,” said I, “what land +Is this?” He answer’d straight: “Too long a space +Of intervening darkness has thine eye +To traverse: thou hast therefore widely err’d +In thy imagining. Thither arriv’d +Thou well shalt see, how distance can delude +The sense. A little therefore urge thee on.” + +Then tenderly he caught me by the hand; +“Yet know,” said he, “ere farther we advance, +That it less strange may seem, these are not towers, +But giants. In the pit they stand immers’d, +Each from his navel downward, round the bank.” + +As when a fog disperseth gradually, +Our vision traces what the mist involves +Condens’d in air; so piercing through the gross +And gloomy atmosphere, as more and more +We near’d toward the brink, mine error fled, +And fear came o’er me. As with circling round +Of turrets, Montereggion crowns his walls, +E’en thus the shore, encompassing th’ abyss, +Was turreted with giants, half their length +Uprearing, horrible, whom Jove from heav’n +Yet threatens, when his mutt’ring thunder rolls. + +Of one already I descried the face, +Shoulders, and breast, and of the belly huge +Great part, and both arms down along his ribs. + +All-teeming nature, when her plastic hand +Left framing of these monsters, did display +Past doubt her wisdom, taking from mad War +Such slaves to do his bidding; and if she +Repent her not of th’ elephant and whale, +Who ponders well confesses her therein +Wiser and more discreet; for when brute force +And evil will are back’d with subtlety, +Resistance none avails. His visage seem’d +In length and bulk, as doth the pine, that tops +Saint Peter’s Roman fane; and th’ other bones +Of like proportion, so that from above +The bank, which girdled him below, such height +Arose his stature, that three Friezelanders +Had striv’n in vain to reach but to his hair. +Full thirty ample palms was he expos’d +Downward from whence a man his garments loops. +“Raphel bai ameth sabi almi,” +So shouted his fierce lips, which sweeter hymns +Became not; and my guide address’d him thus: + +“O senseless spirit! let thy horn for thee +Interpret: therewith vent thy rage, if rage +Or other passion wring thee. Search thy neck, +There shalt thou find the belt that binds it on. +Wild spirit! lo, upon thy mighty breast +Where hangs the baldrick!” Then to me he spake: +“He doth accuse himself. Nimrod is this, +Through whose ill counsel in the world no more +One tongue prevails. But pass we on, nor waste +Our words; for so each language is to him, +As his to others, understood by none.” + +Then to the leftward turning sped we forth, +And at a sling’s throw found another shade +Far fiercer and more huge. I cannot say +What master hand had girt him; but he held +Behind the right arm fetter’d, and before +The other with a chain, that fasten’d him +From the neck down, and five times round his form +Apparent met the wreathed links. “This proud one +Would of his strength against almighty Jove +Make trial,” said my guide; “whence he is thus +Requited: Ephialtes him they call. + +“Great was his prowess, when the giants brought +Fear on the gods: those arms, which then he piled, +Now moves he never.” Forthwith I return’d: +“Fain would I, if ’t were possible, mine eyes +Of Briareus immeasurable gain’d +Experience next.” He answer’d: “Thou shalt see +Not far from hence Antaeus, who both speaks +And is unfetter’d, who shall place us there +Where guilt is at its depth. Far onward stands +Whom thou wouldst fain behold, in chains, and made +Like to this spirit, save that in his looks +More fell he seems.” By violent earthquake rock’d +Ne’er shook a tow’r, so reeling to its base, +As Ephialtes. More than ever then +I dreaded death, nor than the terror more +Had needed, if I had not seen the cords +That held him fast. We, straightway journeying on, +Came to Antaeus, who five ells complete +Without the head, forth issued from the cave. + +“O thou, who in the fortunate vale, that made +Great Scipio heir of glory, when his sword +Drove back the troop of Hannibal in flight, +Who thence of old didst carry for thy spoil +An hundred lions; and if thou hadst fought +In the high conflict on thy brethren’s side, +Seems as men yet believ’d, that through thine arm +The sons of earth had conquer’d, now vouchsafe +To place us down beneath, where numbing cold +Locks up Cocytus. Force not that we crave +Or Tityus’ help or Typhon’s. Here is one +Can give what in this realm ye covet. Stoop +Therefore, nor scornfully distort thy lip. +He in the upper world can yet bestow +Renown on thee, for he doth live, and looks +For life yet longer, if before the time +Grace call him not unto herself.” Thus spake +The teacher. He in haste forth stretch’d his hands, +And caught my guide. Alcides whilom felt +That grapple straighten’d score. Soon as my guide +Had felt it, he bespake me thus: “This way +That I may clasp thee;” then so caught me up, +That we were both one burden. As appears +The tower of Carisenda, from beneath +Where it doth lean, if chance a passing cloud +So sail across, that opposite it hangs, +Such then Antaeus seem’d, as at mine ease +I mark’d him stooping. I were fain at times +T’ have pass’d another way. Yet in th’ abyss, +That Lucifer with Judas low ingulfs, +Lightly he plac’d us; nor there leaning stay’d, +But rose as in a bark the stately mast. + + + + +CANTO XXXII + + +Could I command rough rhimes and hoarse, to suit +That hole of sorrow, o’er which ev’ry rock +His firm abutment rears, then might the vein +Of fancy rise full springing: but not mine +Such measures, and with falt’ring awe I touch +The mighty theme; for to describe the depth +Of all the universe, is no emprize +To jest with, and demands a tongue not us’d +To infant babbling. But let them assist +My song, the tuneful maidens, by whose aid +Amphion wall’d in Thebes, so with the truth +My speech shall best accord. Oh ill-starr’d folk, +Beyond all others wretched! who abide +In such a mansion, as scarce thought finds words +To speak of, better had ye here on earth +Been flocks or mountain goats. As down we stood +In the dark pit beneath the giants’ feet, +But lower far than they, and I did gaze +Still on the lofty battlement, a voice +Bespoke me thus: “Look how thou walkest. Take +Good heed, thy soles do tread not on the heads +Of thy poor brethren.” Thereupon I turn’d, +And saw before and underneath my feet +A lake, whose frozen surface liker seem’d +To glass than water. Not so thick a veil +In winter e’er hath Austrian Danube spread +O’er his still course, nor Tanais far remote +Under the chilling sky. Roll’d o’er that mass +Had Tabernich or Pietrapana fall’n, + +Not e’en its rim had creak’d. As peeps the frog +Croaking above the wave, what time in dreams +The village gleaner oft pursues her toil, +So, to where modest shame appears, thus low +Blue pinch’d and shrin’d in ice the spirits stood, +Moving their teeth in shrill note like the stork. +His face each downward held; their mouth the cold, +Their eyes express’d the dolour of their heart. + +A space I look’d around, then at my feet +Saw two so strictly join’d, that of their head +The very hairs were mingled. “Tell me ye, +Whose bosoms thus together press,” said I, +“Who are ye?” At that sound their necks they bent, +And when their looks were lifted up to me, +Straightway their eyes, before all moist within, +Distill’d upon their lips, and the frost bound +The tears betwixt those orbs and held them there. +Plank unto plank hath never cramp clos’d up +So stoutly. Whence like two enraged goats +They clash’d together; them such fury seiz’d. + +And one, from whom the cold both ears had reft, +Exclaim’d, still looking downward: “Why on us +Dost speculate so long? If thou wouldst know +Who are these two, the valley, whence his wave +Bisenzio slopes, did for its master own +Their sire Alberto, and next him themselves. +They from one body issued; and throughout +Caina thou mayst search, nor find a shade +More worthy in congealment to be fix’d, +Not him, whose breast and shadow Arthur’s land +At that one blow dissever’d, not Focaccia, +No not this spirit, whose o’erjutting head +Obstructs my onward view: he bore the name +Of Mascheroni: Tuscan if thou be, +Well knowest who he was: and to cut short +All further question, in my form behold +What once was Camiccione. I await +Carlino here my kinsman, whose deep guilt +Shall wash out mine.” A thousand visages +Then mark’d I, which the keen and eager cold +Had shap’d into a doggish grin; whence creeps +A shiv’ring horror o’er me, at the thought +Of those frore shallows. While we journey’d on +Toward the middle, at whose point unites +All heavy substance, and I trembling went +Through that eternal chillness, I know not +If will it were or destiny, or chance, +But, passing ’midst the heads, my foot did strike +With violent blow against the face of one. + +“Wherefore dost bruise me?” weeping, he exclaim’d, +“Unless thy errand be some fresh revenge +For Montaperto, wherefore troublest me?” + +I thus: “Instructor, now await me here, +That I through him may rid me of my doubt. +Thenceforth what haste thou wilt.” The teacher paus’d, +And to that shade I spake, who bitterly +Still curs’d me in his wrath. “What art thou, speak, +That railest thus on others?” He replied: +“Now who art thou, that smiting others’ cheeks +Through Antenora roamest, with such force +As were past suff’rance, wert thou living still?” + +“And I am living, to thy joy perchance,” +Was my reply, “if fame be dear to thee, +That with the rest I may thy name enrol.” + +“The contrary of what I covet most,” +Said he, “thou tender’st: hence; nor vex me more. +Ill knowest thou to flatter in this vale.” + +Then seizing on his hinder scalp, I cried: +“Name thee, or not a hair shall tarry here.” + +“Rend all away,” he answer’d, “yet for that +I will not tell nor show thee who I am, +Though at my head thou pluck a thousand times.” + +Now I had grasp’d his tresses, and stript off +More than one tuft, he barking, with his eyes +Drawn in and downward, when another cried, +“What ails thee, Bocca? Sound not loud enough +Thy chatt’ring teeth, but thou must bark outright? +What devil wrings thee?”—“Now,” said I, “be dumb, +Accursed traitor! to thy shame of thee +True tidings will I bear.”—“Off,” he replied, +“Tell what thou list; but as thou escape from hence +To speak of him whose tongue hath been so glib, +Forget not: here he wails the Frenchman’s gold. +‘Him of Duera,’ thou canst say, ‘I mark’d, +Where the starv’d sinners pine.’ If thou be ask’d +What other shade was with them, at thy side +Is Beccaria, whose red gorge distain’d +The biting axe of Florence. Farther on, +If I misdeem not, Soldanieri bides, +With Ganellon, and Tribaldello, him +Who op’d Faenza when the people slept.” + +We now had left him, passing on our way, +When I beheld two spirits by the ice +Pent in one hollow, that the head of one +Was cowl unto the other; and as bread +Is raven’d up through hunger, th’ uppermost +Did so apply his fangs to th’ other’s brain, +Where the spine joins it. Not more furiously +On Menalippus’ temples Tydeus gnaw’d, +Than on that skull and on its garbage he. + +“O thou who show’st so beastly sign of hate +’Gainst him thou prey’st on, let me hear,” said I +“The cause, on such condition, that if right +Warrant thy grievance, knowing who ye are, +And what the colour of his sinning was, +I may repay thee in the world above, +If that, wherewith I speak be moist so long.” + + + + +CANTO XXXIII + + +His jaws uplifting from their fell repast, +That sinner wip’d them on the hairs o’ th’ head, +Which he behind had mangled, then began: +“Thy will obeying, I call up afresh +Sorrow past cure, which but to think of wrings +My heart, or ere I tell on’t. But if words, +That I may utter, shall prove seed to bear +Fruit of eternal infamy to him, +The traitor whom I gnaw at, thou at once +Shalt see me speak and weep. Who thou mayst be +I know not, nor how here below art come: +But Florentine thou seemest of a truth, +When I do hear thee. Know I was on earth +Count Ugolino, and th’ Archbishop he +Ruggieri. Why I neighbour him so close, +Now list. That through effect of his ill thoughts +In him my trust reposing, I was ta’en +And after murder’d, need is not I tell. +What therefore thou canst not have heard, that is, +How cruel was the murder, shalt thou hear, +And know if he have wrong’d me. A small grate +Within that mew, which for my sake the name +Of famine bears, where others yet must pine, +Already through its opening sev’ral moons +Had shown me, when I slept the evil sleep, +That from the future tore the curtain off. +This one, methought, as master of the sport, +Rode forth to chase the gaunt wolf and his whelps +Unto the mountain, which forbids the sight +Of Lucca to the Pisan. With lean brachs +Inquisitive and keen, before him rang’d +Lanfranchi with Sismondi and Gualandi. +After short course the father and the sons +Seem’d tir’d and lagging, and methought I saw +The sharp tusks gore their sides. When I awoke +Before the dawn, amid their sleep I heard +My sons (for they were with me) weep and ask +For bread. Right cruel art thou, if no pang +Thou feel at thinking what my heart foretold; +And if not now, why use thy tears to flow? +Now had they waken’d; and the hour drew near +When they were wont to bring us food; the mind +Of each misgave him through his dream, and I +Heard, at its outlet underneath lock’d up +The’ horrible tower: whence uttering not a word +I look’d upon the visage of my sons. +I wept not: so all stone I felt within. +They wept: and one, my little Anslem, cried: +“Thou lookest so! Father what ails thee?” Yet +I shed no tear, nor answer’d all that day +Nor the next night, until another sun +Came out upon the world. When a faint beam +Had to our doleful prison made its way, +And in four countenances I descry’d +The image of my own, on either hand +Through agony I bit, and they who thought +I did it through desire of feeding, rose +O’ th’ sudden, and cried, ‘Father, we should grieve +Far less, if thou wouldst eat of us: thou gav’st +These weeds of miserable flesh we wear, + +‘And do thou strip them off from us again.’ +Then, not to make them sadder, I kept down +My spirit in stillness. That day and the next +We all were silent. Ah, obdurate earth! +Why open’dst not upon us? When we came +To the fourth day, then Geddo at my feet +Outstretch’d did fling him, crying, ‘Hast no help +For me, my father!’ There he died, and e’en +Plainly as thou seest me, saw I the three +Fall one by one ’twixt the fifth day and sixth: + +“Whence I betook me now grown blind to grope +Over them all, and for three days aloud +Call’d on them who were dead. Then fasting got +The mastery of grief.” Thus having spoke, + +Once more upon the wretched skull his teeth +He fasten’d, like a mastiff’s ’gainst the bone +Firm and unyielding. Oh thou Pisa! shame +Of all the people, who their dwelling make +In that fair region, where th’ Italian voice +Is heard, since that thy neighbours are so slack +To punish, from their deep foundations rise +Capraia and Gorgona, and dam up +The mouth of Arno, that each soul in thee +May perish in the waters! What if fame +Reported that thy castles were betray’d +By Ugolino, yet no right hadst thou +To stretch his children on the rack. For them, +Brigata, Ugaccione, and the pair +Of gentle ones, of whom my song hath told, +Their tender years, thou modern Thebes! did make +Uncapable of guilt. Onward we pass’d, +Where others skarf’d in rugged folds of ice +Not on their feet were turn’d, but each revers’d. + +There very weeping suffers not to weep; +For at their eyes grief seeking passage finds +Impediment, and rolling inward turns +For increase of sharp anguish: the first tears +Hang cluster’d, and like crystal vizors show, +Under the socket brimming all the cup. + +Now though the cold had from my face dislodg’d +Each feeling, as ’t were callous, yet me seem’d +Some breath of wind I felt. “Whence cometh this,” +Said I, “my master? Is not here below +All vapour quench’d?”—“‘Thou shalt be speedily,” +He answer’d, “where thine eye shall tell thee whence +The cause descrying of this airy shower.” + +Then cried out one in the chill crust who mourn’d: +“O souls so cruel! that the farthest post +Hath been assign’d you, from this face remove +The harden’d veil, that I may vent the grief +Impregnate at my heart, some little space +Ere it congeal again!” I thus replied: +“Say who thou wast, if thou wouldst have mine aid; +And if I extricate thee not, far down +As to the lowest ice may I descend!” + +“The friar Alberigo,” answered he, +“Am I, who from the evil garden pluck’d +Its fruitage, and am here repaid, the date +More luscious for my fig.”—“Hah!” I exclaim’d, +“Art thou too dead!”—“How in the world aloft +It fareth with my body,” answer’d he, +“I am right ignorant. Such privilege +Hath Ptolomea, that ofttimes the soul +Drops hither, ere by Atropos divorc’d. +And that thou mayst wipe out more willingly +The glazed tear-drops that o’erlay mine eyes, +Know that the soul, that moment she betrays, +As I did, yields her body to a fiend +Who after moves and governs it at will, +Till all its time be rounded; headlong she +Falls to this cistern. And perchance above +Doth yet appear the body of a ghost, +Who here behind me winters. Him thou know’st, +If thou but newly art arriv’d below. +The years are many that have pass’d away, +Since to this fastness Branca Doria came.” + +“Now,” answer’d I, “methinks thou mockest me, +For Branca Doria never yet hath died, +But doth all natural functions of a man, +Eats, drinks, and sleeps, and putteth raiment on.” + +He thus: “Not yet unto that upper foss +By th’ evil talons guarded, where the pitch +Tenacious boils, had Michael Zanche reach’d, +When this one left a demon in his stead +In his own body, and of one his kin, +Who with him treachery wrought. But now put forth +Thy hand, and ope mine eyes.” I op’d them not. +Ill manners were best courtesy to him. + +Ah Genoese! men perverse in every way, +With every foulness stain’d, why from the earth +Are ye not cancel’d? Such an one of yours +I with Romagna’s darkest spirit found, +As for his doings even now in soul +Is in Cocytus plung’d, and yet doth seem +In body still alive upon the earth. + + + + +CANTO XXXIV + + +“The banners of Hell’s Monarch do come forth +Towards us; therefore look,” so spake my guide, +“If thou discern him.” As, when breathes a cloud +Heavy and dense, or when the shades of night +Fall on our hemisphere, seems view’d from far +A windmill, which the blast stirs briskly round, +Such was the fabric then methought I saw, + +To shield me from the wind, forthwith I drew +Behind my guide: no covert else was there. + +Now came I (and with fear I bid my strain +Record the marvel) where the souls were all +Whelm’d underneath, transparent, as through glass +Pellucid the frail stem. Some prone were laid, +Others stood upright, this upon the soles, +That on his head, a third with face to feet +Arch’d like a bow. When to the point we came, +Whereat my guide was pleas’d that I should see +The creature eminent in beauty once, +He from before me stepp’d and made me pause. + +“Lo!” he exclaim’d, “lo Dis! and lo the place, +Where thou hast need to arm thy heart with strength.” + +How frozen and how faint I then became, +Ask me not, reader! for I write it not, +Since words would fail to tell thee of my state. +I was not dead nor living. Think thyself +If quick conception work in thee at all, +How I did feel. That emperor, who sways +The realm of sorrow, at mid breast from th’ ice +Stood forth; and I in stature am more like +A giant, than the giants are in his arms. +Mark now how great that whole must be, which suits +With such a part. If he were beautiful +As he is hideous now, and yet did dare +To scowl upon his Maker, well from him +May all our mis’ry flow. Oh what a sight! +How passing strange it seem’d, when I did spy +Upon his head three faces: one in front +Of hue vermilion, th’ other two with this +Midway each shoulder join’d and at the crest; +The right ’twixt wan and yellow seem’d: the left +To look on, such as come from whence old Nile +Stoops to the lowlands. Under each shot forth +Two mighty wings, enormous as became +A bird so vast. Sails never such I saw +Outstretch’d on the wide sea. No plumes had they, +But were in texture like a bat, and these +He flapp’d i’ th’ air, that from him issued still +Three winds, wherewith Cocytus to its depth +Was frozen. At six eyes he wept: the tears +Adown three chins distill’d with bloody foam. +At every mouth his teeth a sinner champ’d +Bruis’d as with pond’rous engine, so that three +Were in this guise tormented. But far more +Than from that gnawing, was the foremost pang’d +By the fierce rending, whence ofttimes the back +Was stript of all its skin. “That upper spirit, +Who hath worse punishment,” so spake my guide, +“Is Judas, he that hath his head within +And plies the feet without. Of th’ other two, +Whose heads are under, from the murky jaw +Who hangs, is Brutus: lo! how he doth writhe +And speaks not! Th’ other Cassius, that appears +So large of limb. But night now re-ascends, +And it is time for parting. All is seen.” + +I clipp’d him round the neck, for so he bade; +And noting time and place, he, when the wings +Enough were op’d, caught fast the shaggy sides, +And down from pile to pile descending stepp’d +Between the thick fell and the jagged ice. + +Soon as he reach’d the point, whereat the thigh +Upon the swelling of the haunches turns, +My leader there with pain and struggling hard +Turn’d round his head, where his feet stood before, +And grappled at the fell, as one who mounts, +That into hell methought we turn’d again. + +“Expect that by such stairs as these,” thus spake +The teacher, panting like a man forespent, +“We must depart from evil so extreme.” +Then at a rocky opening issued forth, +And plac’d me on a brink to sit, next join’d +With wary step my side. I rais’d mine eyes, +Believing that I Lucifer should see +Where he was lately left, but saw him now +With legs held upward. Let the grosser sort, +Who see not what the point was I had pass’d, +Bethink them if sore toil oppress’d me then. + +“Arise,” my master cried, “upon thy feet. +The way is long, and much uncouth the road; +And now within one hour and half of noon +The sun returns.” It was no palace-hall +Lofty and luminous wherein we stood, +But natural dungeon where ill footing was +And scant supply of light. “Ere from th’ abyss +I sep’rate,” thus when risen I began, +“My guide! vouchsafe few words to set me free +From error’s thralldom. Where is now the ice? +How standeth he in posture thus revers’d? +And how from eve to morn in space so brief +Hath the sun made his transit?” He in few +Thus answering spake: “Thou deemest thou art still +On th’ other side the centre, where I grasp’d +Th’ abhorred worm, that boreth through the world. +Thou wast on th’ other side, so long as I +Descended; when I turn’d, thou didst o’erpass +That point, to which from ev’ry part is dragg’d +All heavy substance. Thou art now arriv’d +Under the hemisphere opposed to that, +Which the great continent doth overspread, +And underneath whose canopy expir’d +The Man, that was born sinless, and so liv’d. +Thy feet are planted on the smallest sphere, +Whose other aspect is Judecca. Morn +Here rises, when there evening sets: and he, +Whose shaggy pile was scal’d, yet standeth fix’d, +As at the first. On this part he fell down +From heav’n; and th’ earth, here prominent before, +Through fear of him did veil her with the sea, +And to our hemisphere retir’d. Perchance +To shun him was the vacant space left here +By what of firm land on this side appears, +That sprang aloof.” There is a place beneath, +From Belzebub as distant, as extends +The vaulted tomb, discover’d not by sight, +But by the sound of brooklet, that descends +This way along the hollow of a rock, +Which, as it winds with no precipitous course, +The wave hath eaten. By that hidden way +My guide and I did enter, to return +To the fair world: and heedless of repose +We climbed, he first, I following his steps, +Till on our view the beautiful lights of heav’n +Dawn’d through a circular opening in the cave: +Thus issuing we again beheld the stars. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DIVINE COMEDY, HELL *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Divine Comedy<br /> + Hell</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Dante Alighieri</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Translator: Henry Francis Cary</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: August 7, 2004 [eBook #1005]<br /> +[Most recently updated: December 23, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Judith Smith and Natalie Salter</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DIVINE COMEDY, HELL ***</div> + +<h1>HELL</h1> + +<h5>OR THE INFERNO FROM THE DIVINE COMEDY</h5> + +<h5>BY</h5> + +<h2 class="no-break">Dante Alighieri</h2> + +<h3>Translated by<br />THE REV. H. F. CARY, M.A.</h3> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.I">CANTO I.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.II">CANTO II.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.III">CANTO III.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.IV">CANTO IV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.V">CANTO V.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.VI">CANTO VI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.VII">CANTO VII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.VIII">CANTO VIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.IX">CANTO IX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.X">CANTO X.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XI">CANTO XI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XII">CANTO XII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XIII">CANTO XIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XIV">CANTO XIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XV">CANTO XV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XVI">CANTO XVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XVII">CANTO XVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XVIII">CANTO XVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XIX">CANTO XIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XX">CANTO XX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXI">CANTO XXI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXII">CANTO XXII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXIII">CANTO XXIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXIV">CANTO XXIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXV">CANTO XXV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXVI">CANTO XXVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXVII">CANTO XXVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXVIII">CANTO XXVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXIX">CANTO XXIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXX">CANTO XXX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXXI">CANTO XXXI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXXII">CANTO XXXII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXXIII">CANTO XXXIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#cantoI.XXXIV">CANTO XXXIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>HELL</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.I"></a>CANTO I</h2> + +<p> +In the midway of this our mortal life,<br/> +I found me in a gloomy wood, astray<br/> +Gone from the path direct: and e’en to tell<br/> +It were no easy task, how savage wild<br/> +That forest, how robust and rough its growth,<br/> +Which to remember only, my dismay<br/> +Renews, in bitterness not far from death.<br/> +Yet to discourse of what there good befell,<br/> +All else will I relate discover’d there.<br/> +How first I enter’d it I scarce can say,<br/> +Such sleepy dullness in that instant weigh’d<br/> +My senses down, when the true path I left,<br/> +But when a mountain’s foot I reach’d, where clos’d<br/> +The valley, that had pierc’d my heart with dread,<br/> +I look’d aloft, and saw his shoulders broad<br/> +Already vested with that planet’s beam,<br/> +Who leads all wanderers safe through every way. +</p> + +<p> +Then was a little respite to the fear,<br/> +That in my heart’s recesses deep had lain,<br/> +All of that night, so pitifully pass’d:<br/> +And as a man, with difficult short breath,<br/> +Forespent with toiling, ’scap’d from sea to shore,<br/> +Turns to the perilous wide waste, and stands<br/> +At gaze; e’en so my spirit, that yet fail’d<br/> +Struggling with terror, turn’d to view the straits,<br/> +That none hath pass’d and liv’d. My weary frame<br/> +After short pause recomforted, again<br/> +I journey’d on over that lonely steep, +</p> + +<p> +The hinder foot still firmer. Scarce the ascent<br/> +Began, when, lo! a panther, nimble, light,<br/> +And cover’d with a speckled skin, appear’d,<br/> +Nor, when it saw me, vanish’d, rather strove<br/> +To check my onward going; that ofttimes<br/> +With purpose to retrace my steps I turn’d. +</p> + +<p> +The hour was morning’s prime, and on his way<br/> +Aloft the sun ascended with those stars,<br/> +That with him rose, when Love divine first mov’d<br/> +Those its fair works: so that with joyous hope<br/> +All things conspir’d to fill me, the gay skin<br/> +Of that swift animal, the matin dawn<br/> +And the sweet season. Soon that joy was chas’d,<br/> +And by new dread succeeded, when in view<br/> +A lion came, ’gainst me, as it appear’d, +</p> + +<p> +With his head held aloft and hunger-mad,<br/> +That e’en the air was fear-struck. A she-wolf<br/> +Was at his heels, who in her leanness seem’d<br/> +Full of all wants, and many a land hath made<br/> +Disconsolate ere now. She with such fear<br/> +O’erwhelmed me, at the sight of her appall’d,<br/> +That of the height all hope I lost. As one,<br/> +Who with his gain elated, sees the time<br/> +When all unwares is gone, he inwardly<br/> +Mourns with heart-griping anguish; such was I,<br/> +Haunted by that fell beast, never at peace,<br/> +Who coming o’er against me, by degrees<br/> +Impell’d me where the sun in silence rests. +</p> + +<p> +While to the lower space with backward step<br/> +I fell, my ken discern’d the form one of one,<br/> +Whose voice seem’d faint through long disuse of speech.<br/> +When him in that great desert I espied,<br/> +“Have mercy on me!” cried I out aloud,<br/> +“Spirit! or living man! what e’er thou be!” +</p> + +<p> +He answer’d: “Now not man, man once I was,<br/> +And born of Lombard parents, Mantuana both<br/> +By country, when the power of Julius yet<br/> +Was scarcely firm. At Rome my life was past<br/> +Beneath the mild Augustus, in the time<br/> +Of fabled deities and false. A bard<br/> +Was I, and made Anchises’ upright son<br/> +The subject of my song, who came from Troy,<br/> +When the flames prey’d on Ilium’s haughty towers.<br/> +But thou, say wherefore to such perils past<br/> +Return’st thou? wherefore not this pleasant mount<br/> +Ascendest, cause and source of all delight?”<br/> +“And art thou then that Virgil, that well-spring,<br/> +From which such copious floods of eloquence<br/> +Have issued?” I with front abash’d replied.<br/> +“Glory and light of all the tuneful train!<br/> +May it avail me that I long with zeal<br/> +Have sought thy volume, and with love immense<br/> +Have conn’d it o’er. My master thou and guide!<br/> +Thou he from whom alone I have deriv’d<br/> +That style, which for its beauty into fame<br/> +Exalts me. See the beast, from whom I fled.<br/> +O save me from her, thou illustrious sage!” +</p> + +<p> +“For every vein and pulse throughout my frame<br/> +She hath made tremble.” He, soon as he saw<br/> +That I was weeping, answer’d, “Thou must needs<br/> +Another way pursue, if thou wouldst ’scape<br/> +From out that savage wilderness. This beast,<br/> +At whom thou criest, her way will suffer none<br/> +To pass, and no less hindrance makes than death:<br/> +So bad and so accursed in her kind,<br/> +That never sated is her ravenous will,<br/> +Still after food more craving than before.<br/> +To many an animal in wedlock vile<br/> +She fastens, and shall yet to many more,<br/> +Until that greyhound come, who shall destroy<br/> +Her with sharp pain. He will not life support<br/> +By earth nor its base metals, but by love,<br/> +Wisdom, and virtue, and his land shall be<br/> +The land ’twixt either Feltro. In his might<br/> +Shall safety to Italia’s plains arise,<br/> +For whose fair realm, Camilla, virgin pure,<br/> +Nisus, Euryalus, and Turnus fell.<br/> +He with incessant chase through every town<br/> +Shall worry, until he to hell at length<br/> +Restore her, thence by envy first let loose.<br/> +I for thy profit pond’ring now devise,<br/> +That thou mayst follow me, and I thy guide<br/> +Will lead thee hence through an eternal space,<br/> +Where thou shalt hear despairing shrieks, and see<br/> +Spirits of old tormented, who invoke<br/> +A second death; and those next view, who dwell<br/> +Content in fire, for that they hope to come,<br/> +Whene’er the time may be, among the blest,<br/> +Into whose regions if thou then desire<br/> +T’ ascend, a spirit worthier then I<br/> +Must lead thee, in whose charge, when I depart,<br/> +Thou shalt be left: for that Almighty King,<br/> +Who reigns above, a rebel to his law,<br/> +Adjudges me, and therefore hath decreed,<br/> +That to his city none through me should come.<br/> +He in all parts hath sway; there rules, there holds<br/> +His citadel and throne. O happy those,<br/> +Whom there he chooses!” I to him in few:<br/> +“Bard! by that God, whom thou didst not adore,<br/> +I do beseech thee (that this ill and worse<br/> +I may escape) to lead me, where thou saidst,<br/> +That I Saint Peter’s gate may view, and those<br/> +Who as thou tell’st, are in such dismal plight.” +</p> + +<p> +Onward he mov’d, I close his steps pursu’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.II"></a>CANTO II</h2> + +<p> +Now was the day departing, and the air,<br/> +Imbrown’d with shadows, from their toils releas’d<br/> +All animals on earth; and I alone<br/> +Prepar’d myself the conflict to sustain,<br/> +Both of sad pity, and that perilous road,<br/> +Which my unerring memory shall retrace. +</p> + +<p> +O Muses! O high genius! now vouchsafe<br/> +Your aid! O mind! that all I saw hast kept<br/> +Safe in a written record, here thy worth<br/> +And eminent endowments come to proof. +</p> + +<p> +I thus began: “Bard! thou who art my guide,<br/> +Consider well, if virtue be in me<br/> +Sufficient, ere to this high enterprise<br/> +Thou trust me. Thou hast told that Silvius’ sire,<br/> +Yet cloth’d in corruptible flesh, among<br/> +Th’ immortal tribes had entrance, and was there<br/> +Sensible present. Yet if heaven’s great Lord,<br/> +Almighty foe to ill, such favour shew’d,<br/> +In contemplation of the high effect,<br/> +Both what and who from him should issue forth,<br/> +It seems in reason’s judgment well deserv’d:<br/> +Sith he of Rome, and of Rome’s empire wide,<br/> +In heaven’s empyreal height was chosen sire:<br/> +Both which, if truth be spoken, were ordain’d<br/> +And ’stablish’d for the holy place, where sits<br/> +Who to great Peter’s sacred chair succeeds.<br/> +He from this journey, in thy song renown’d,<br/> +Learn’d things, that to his victory gave rise<br/> +And to the papal robe. In after-times<br/> +The chosen vessel also travel’d there,<br/> +To bring us back assurance in that faith,<br/> +Which is the entrance to salvation’s way.<br/> +But I, why should I there presume? or who<br/> +Permits it? not, Aeneas I nor Paul.<br/> +Myself I deem not worthy, and none else<br/> +Will deem me. I, if on this voyage then<br/> +I venture, fear it will in folly end.<br/> +Thou, who art wise, better my meaning know’st,<br/> +Than I can speak.” As one, who unresolves<br/> +What he hath late resolv’d, and with new thoughts<br/> +Changes his purpose, from his first intent<br/> +Remov’d; e’en such was I on that dun coast,<br/> +Wasting in thought my enterprise, at first<br/> +So eagerly embrac’d. “If right thy words<br/> +I scan,” replied that shade magnanimous,<br/> +“Thy soul is by vile fear assail’d, which oft<br/> +So overcasts a man, that he recoils<br/> +From noblest resolution, like a beast<br/> +At some false semblance in the twilight gloom.<br/> +That from this terror thou mayst free thyself,<br/> +I will instruct thee why I came, and what<br/> +I heard in that same instant, when for thee<br/> +Grief touch’d me first. I was among the tribe,<br/> +Who rest suspended, when a dame, so blest<br/> +And lovely, I besought her to command,<br/> +Call’d me; her eyes were brighter than the star<br/> +Of day; and she with gentle voice and soft<br/> +Angelically tun’d her speech address’d:<br/> +“O courteous shade of Mantua! thou whose fame<br/> +Yet lives, and shall live long as nature lasts!<br/> +A friend, not of my fortune but myself,<br/> +On the wide desert in his road has met<br/> +Hindrance so great, that he through fear has turn’d.<br/> +Now much I dread lest he past help have stray’d,<br/> +And I be ris’n too late for his relief,<br/> +From what in heaven of him I heard. Speed now,<br/> +And by thy eloquent persuasive tongue,<br/> +And by all means for his deliverance meet,<br/> +Assist him. So to me will comfort spring.<br/> +I who now bid thee on this errand forth<br/> +Am Beatrice; from a place I come<br/> +Revisited with joy. Love brought me thence,<br/> +Who prompts my speech. When in my Master’s sight<br/> +I stand, thy praise to him I oft will tell.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +(Note: Beatrice. I use this word, as it is +pronounced in the Italian, as consisting of four +syllables, of which the third is a long one.) +</p> + +<p> +She then was silent, and I thus began:<br/> +“O Lady! by whose influence alone,<br/> +Mankind excels whatever is contain’d<br/> +Within that heaven which hath the smallest orb,<br/> +So thy command delights me, that to obey,<br/> +If it were done already, would seem late.<br/> +No need hast thou farther to speak thy will;<br/> +Yet tell the reason, why thou art not loth<br/> +To leave that ample space, where to return<br/> +Thou burnest, for this centre here beneath.” +</p> + +<p> +She then: “Since thou so deeply wouldst inquire,<br/> +I will instruct thee briefly, why no dread<br/> +Hinders my entrance here. Those things alone<br/> +Are to be fear’d, whence evil may proceed,<br/> +None else, for none are terrible beside.<br/> +I am so fram’d by God, thanks to his grace!<br/> +That any suff’rance of your misery<br/> +Touches me not, nor flame of that fierce fire<br/> +Assails me. In high heaven a blessed dame<br/> +Besides, who mourns with such effectual grief<br/> +That hindrance, which I send thee to remove,<br/> +That God’s stern judgment to her will inclines.”<br/> +To Lucia calling, her she thus bespake:<br/> +“Now doth thy faithful servant need thy aid<br/> +And I commend him to thee.” At her word<br/> +Sped Lucia, of all cruelty the foe,<br/> +And coming to the place, where I abode<br/> +Seated with Rachel, her of ancient days,<br/> +She thus address’d me: “Thou true praise of God!<br/> +Beatrice! why is not thy succour lent<br/> +To him, who so much lov’d thee, as to leave<br/> +For thy sake all the multitude admires?<br/> +Dost thou not hear how pitiful his wail,<br/> +Nor mark the death, which in the torrent flood,<br/> +Swoln mightier than a sea, him struggling holds?”<br/> +“Ne’er among men did any with such speed<br/> +Haste to their profit, flee from their annoy,<br/> +As when these words were spoken, I came here,<br/> +Down from my blessed seat, trusting the force<br/> +Of thy pure eloquence, which thee, and all<br/> +Who well have mark’d it, into honour brings.” +</p> + +<p> +“When she had ended, her bright beaming eyes<br/> +Tearful she turn’d aside; whereat I felt<br/> +Redoubled zeal to serve thee. As she will’d,<br/> +Thus am I come: I sav’d thee from the beast,<br/> +Who thy near way across the goodly mount<br/> +Prevented. What is this comes o’er thee then?<br/> +Why, why dost thou hang back? why in thy breast<br/> +Harbour vile fear? why hast not courage there<br/> +And noble daring? Since three maids so blest<br/> +Thy safety plan, e’en in the court of heaven;<br/> +And so much certain good my words forebode.” +</p> + +<p> +As florets, by the frosty air of night<br/> +Bent down and clos’d, when day has blanch’d their leaves,<br/> +Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems;<br/> +So was my fainting vigour new restor’d,<br/> +And to my heart such kindly courage ran,<br/> +That I as one undaunted soon replied:<br/> +“O full of pity she, who undertook<br/> +My succour! and thou kind who didst perform<br/> +So soon her true behest! With such desire<br/> +Thou hast dispos’d me to renew my voyage,<br/> +That my first purpose fully is resum’d.<br/> +Lead on: one only will is in us both.<br/> +Thou art my guide, my master thou, and lord.” +</p> + +<p> +So spake I; and when he had onward mov’d,<br/> +I enter’d on the deep and woody way. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.III"></a>CANTO III</h2> + +<p> +“Through me you pass into the city of woe:<br/> +Through me you pass into eternal pain:<br/> +Through me among the people lost for aye.<br/> +Justice the founder of my fabric mov’d:<br/> +To rear me was the task of power divine,<br/> +Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.<br/> +Before me things create were none, save things<br/> +Eternal, and eternal I endure. +</p> + +<p> +“All hope abandon ye who enter here.” +</p> + +<p> +Such characters in colour dim I mark’d<br/> +Over a portal’s lofty arch inscrib’d:<br/> +Whereat I thus: “Master, these words import<br/> +Hard meaning.” He as one prepar’d replied:<br/> +“Here thou must all distrust behind thee leave;<br/> +Here be vile fear extinguish’d. We are come<br/> +Where I have told thee we shall see the souls<br/> +To misery doom’d, who intellectual good<br/> +Have lost.” And when his hand he had stretch’d forth<br/> +To mine, with pleasant looks, whence I was cheer’d,<br/> +Into that secret place he led me on. +</p> + +<p> +Here sighs with lamentations and loud moans<br/> +Resounded through the air pierc’d by no star,<br/> +That e’en I wept at entering. Various tongues,<br/> +Horrible languages, outcries of woe,<br/> +Accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse,<br/> +With hands together smote that swell’d the sounds,<br/> +Made up a tumult, that for ever whirls<br/> +Round through that air with solid darkness stain’d,<br/> +Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies. +</p> + +<p> +I then, with error yet encompass’d, cried:<br/> +“O master! What is this I hear? What race<br/> +Are these, who seem so overcome with woe?” +</p> + +<p> +He thus to me: “This miserable fate<br/> +Suffer the wretched souls of those, who liv’d<br/> +Without or praise or blame, with that ill band<br/> +Of angels mix’d, who nor rebellious prov’d<br/> +Nor yet were true to God, but for themselves<br/> +Were only. From his bounds Heaven drove them forth,<br/> +Not to impair his lustre, nor the depth<br/> +Of Hell receives them, lest th’ accursed tribe<br/> +Should glory thence with exultation vain.” +</p> + +<p> +I then: “Master! what doth aggrieve them thus,<br/> +That they lament so loud?” He straight replied:<br/> +“That will I tell thee briefly. These of death<br/> +No hope may entertain: and their blind life<br/> +So meanly passes, that all other lots<br/> +They envy. Fame of them the world hath none,<br/> +Nor suffers; mercy and justice scorn them both.<br/> +Speak not of them, but look, and pass them by.” +</p> + +<p> +And I, who straightway look’d, beheld a flag,<br/> +Which whirling ran around so rapidly,<br/> +That it no pause obtain’d: and following came<br/> +Such a long train of spirits, I should ne’er<br/> +Have thought, that death so many had despoil’d. +</p> + +<p> +When some of these I recogniz’d, I saw<br/> +And knew the shade of him, who to base fear<br/> +Yielding, abjur’d his high estate. Forthwith<br/> +I understood for certain this the tribe<br/> +Of those ill spirits both to God displeasing<br/> +And to his foes. These wretches, who ne’er lived,<br/> +Went on in nakedness, and sorely stung<br/> +By wasps and hornets, which bedew’d their cheeks<br/> +With blood, that mix’d with tears dropp’d to their feet,<br/> +And by disgustful worms was gather’d there. +</p> + +<p> +Then looking farther onwards I beheld<br/> +A throng upon the shore of a great stream:<br/> +Whereat I thus: “Sir! grant me now to know<br/> +Whom here we view, and whence impell’d they seem<br/> +So eager to pass o’er, as I discern<br/> +Through the blear light?” He thus to me in few:<br/> +“This shalt thou know, soon as our steps arrive<br/> +Beside the woeful tide of Acheron.” +</p> + +<p> +Then with eyes downward cast and fill’d with shame,<br/> +Fearing my words offensive to his ear,<br/> +Till we had reach’d the river, I from speech<br/> +Abstain’d. And lo! toward us in a bark<br/> +Comes on an old man hoary white with eld, +</p> + +<p> +Crying, “Woe to you wicked spirits! hope not<br/> +Ever to see the sky again. I come<br/> +To take you to the other shore across,<br/> +Into eternal darkness, there to dwell<br/> +In fierce heat and in ice. And thou, who there<br/> +Standest, live spirit! get thee hence, and leave<br/> +These who are dead.” But soon as he beheld<br/> +I left them not, “By other way,” said he,<br/> +“By other haven shalt thou come to shore,<br/> +Not by this passage; thee a nimbler boat<br/> +Must carry.” Then to him thus spake my guide:<br/> +“Charon! thyself torment not: so ’t is will’d,<br/> +Where will and power are one: ask thou no more.” +</p> + +<p> +Straightway in silence fell the shaggy cheeks<br/> +Of him the boatman o’er the livid lake,<br/> +Around whose eyes glar’d wheeling flames. Meanwhile<br/> +Those spirits, faint and naked, color chang’d,<br/> +And gnash’d their teeth, soon as the cruel words<br/> +They heard. God and their parents they blasphem’d,<br/> +The human kind, the place, the time, and seed<br/> +That did engender them and give them birth. +</p> + +<p> +Then all together sorely wailing drew<br/> +To the curs’d strand, that every man must pass<br/> +Who fears not God. Charon, demoniac form,<br/> +With eyes of burning coal, collects them all,<br/> +Beck’ning, and each, that lingers, with his oar<br/> +Strikes. As fall off the light autumnal leaves,<br/> +One still another following, till the bough<br/> +Strews all its honours on the earth beneath; +</p> + +<p> +E’en in like manner Adam’s evil brood<br/> +Cast themselves one by one down from the shore,<br/> +Each at a beck, as falcon at his call. +</p> + +<p> +Thus go they over through the umber’d wave,<br/> +And ever they on the opposing bank<br/> +Be landed, on this side another throng<br/> +Still gathers. “Son,” thus spake the courteous guide,<br/> +“Those, who die subject to the wrath of God,<br/> +All here together come from every clime,<br/> +And to o’erpass the river are not loth:<br/> +For so heaven’s justice goads them on, that fear<br/> +Is turn’d into desire. Hence ne’er hath past<br/> +Good spirit. If of thee Charon complain,<br/> +Now mayst thou know the import of his words.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, the gloomy region trembling shook<br/> +So terribly, that yet with clammy dews<br/> +Fear chills my brow. The sad earth gave a blast,<br/> +That, lightening, shot forth a vermilion flame,<br/> +Which all my senses conquer’d quite, and I<br/> +Down dropp’d, as one with sudden slumber seiz’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.IV"></a>CANTO IV</h2> + +<p> +Broke the deep slumber in my brain a crash<br/> +Of heavy thunder, that I shook myself,<br/> +As one by main force rous’d. Risen upright,<br/> +My rested eyes I mov’d around, and search’d<br/> +With fixed ken to know what place it was,<br/> +Wherein I stood. For certain on the brink<br/> +I found me of the lamentable vale,<br/> +The dread abyss, that joins a thund’rous sound<br/> +Of plaints innumerable. Dark and deep,<br/> +And thick with clouds o’erspread, mine eye in vain<br/> +Explor’d its bottom, nor could aught discern. +</p> + +<p> +“Now let us to the blind world there beneath<br/> +Descend;” the bard began all pale of look:<br/> +“I go the first, and thou shalt follow next.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I his alter’d hue perceiving, thus:<br/> +“How may I speed, if thou yieldest to dread,<br/> +Who still art wont to comfort me in doubt?” +</p> + +<p> +He then: “The anguish of that race below<br/> +With pity stains my cheek, which thou for fear<br/> +Mistakest. Let us on. Our length of way<br/> +Urges to haste.” Onward, this said, he mov’d;<br/> +And ent’ring led me with him on the bounds<br/> +Of the first circle, that surrounds th’ abyss.<br/> +Here, as mine ear could note, no plaint was heard<br/> +Except of sighs, that made th’ eternal air<br/> +Tremble, not caus’d by tortures, but from grief<br/> +Felt by those multitudes, many and vast,<br/> +Of men, women, and infants. Then to me<br/> +The gentle guide: “Inquir’st thou not what spirits<br/> +Are these, which thou beholdest? Ere thou pass<br/> +Farther, I would thou know, that these of sin<br/> +Were blameless; and if aught they merited,<br/> +It profits not, since baptism was not theirs,<br/> +The portal to thy faith. If they before<br/> +The Gospel liv’d, they serv’d not God aright;<br/> +And among such am I. For these defects,<br/> +And for no other evil, we are lost;” +</p> + +<p> +“Only so far afflicted, that we live<br/> +Desiring without hope.” So grief assail’d<br/> +My heart at hearing this, for well I knew<br/> +Suspended in that Limbo many a soul<br/> +Of mighty worth. “O tell me, sire rever’d!<br/> +Tell me, my master!” I began through wish<br/> +Of full assurance in that holy faith,<br/> +Which vanquishes all error; “say, did e’er<br/> +Any, or through his own or other’s merit,<br/> +Come forth from thence, whom afterward was blest?” +</p> + +<p> +Piercing the secret purport of my speech,<br/> +He answer’d: “I was new to that estate,<br/> +When I beheld a puissant one arrive<br/> +Amongst us, with victorious trophy crown’d.<br/> +He forth the shade of our first parent drew,<br/> +Abel his child, and Noah righteous man,<br/> +Of Moses lawgiver for faith approv’d,<br/> +Of patriarch Abraham, and David king,<br/> +Israel with his sire and with his sons,<br/> +Nor without Rachel whom so hard he won,<br/> +And others many more, whom he to bliss<br/> +Exalted. Before these, be thou assur’d,<br/> +No spirit of human kind was ever sav’d.” +</p> + +<p> +We, while he spake, ceas’d not our onward road,<br/> +Still passing through the wood; for so I name<br/> +Those spirits thick beset. We were not far<br/> +On this side from the summit, when I kenn’d<br/> +A flame, that o’er the darken’d hemisphere<br/> +Prevailing shin’d. Yet we a little space<br/> +Were distant, not so far but I in part<br/> +Discover’d, that a tribe in honour high<br/> +That place possess’d. “O thou, who every art<br/> +And science valu’st! who are these, that boast<br/> +Such honour, separate from all the rest?” +</p> + +<p> +He answer’d: “The renown of their great names<br/> +That echoes through your world above, acquires<br/> +Favour in heaven, which holds them thus advanc’d.”<br/> +Meantime a voice I heard: “Honour the bard<br/> +Sublime! his shade returns that left us late!”<br/> +No sooner ceas’d the sound, than I beheld<br/> +Four mighty spirits toward us bend their steps,<br/> +Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad. +</p> + +<p> +When thus my master kind began: “Mark him,<br/> +Who in his right hand bears that falchion keen,<br/> +The other three preceding, as their lord.<br/> +This is that Homer, of all bards supreme:<br/> +Flaccus the next in satire’s vein excelling;<br/> +The third is Naso; Lucan is the last.<br/> +Because they all that appellation own,<br/> +With which the voice singly accosted me,<br/> +Honouring they greet me thus, and well they judge.” +</p> + +<p> +So I beheld united the bright school<br/> +Of him the monarch of sublimest song,<br/> +That o’er the others like an eagle soars.<br/> +When they together short discourse had held,<br/> +They turn’d to me, with salutation kind<br/> +Beck’ning me; at the which my master smil’d:<br/> +Nor was this all; but greater honour still<br/> +They gave me, for they made me of their tribe;<br/> +And I was sixth amid so learn’d a band. +</p> + +<p> +Far as the luminous beacon on we pass’d<br/> +Speaking of matters, then befitting well<br/> +To speak, now fitter left untold. At foot<br/> +Of a magnificent castle we arriv’d,<br/> +Seven times with lofty walls begirt, and round<br/> +Defended by a pleasant stream. O’er this<br/> +As o’er dry land we pass’d. Next through seven gates<br/> +I with those sages enter’d, and we came<br/> +Into a mead with lively verdure fresh. +</p> + +<p> +There dwelt a race, who slow their eyes around<br/> +Majestically mov’d, and in their port<br/> +Bore eminent authority; they spake<br/> +Seldom, but all their words were tuneful sweet. +</p> + +<p> +We to one side retir’d, into a place<br/> +Open and bright and lofty, whence each one<br/> +Stood manifest to view. Incontinent<br/> +There on the green enamel of the plain<br/> +Were shown me the great spirits, by whose sight<br/> +I am exalted in my own esteem. +</p> + +<p> +Electra there I saw accompanied<br/> +By many, among whom Hector I knew,<br/> +Anchises’ pious son, and with hawk’s eye<br/> +Caesar all arm’d, and by Camilla there<br/> +Penthesilea. On the other side<br/> +Old King Latinus, seated by his child<br/> +Lavinia, and that Brutus I beheld,<br/> +Who Tarquin chas’d, Lucretia, Cato’s wife<br/> +Marcia, with Julia and Cornelia there;<br/> +And sole apart retir’d, the Soldan fierce. +</p> + +<p> +Then when a little more I rais’d my brow,<br/> +I spied the master of the sapient throng,<br/> +Seated amid the philosophic train.<br/> +Him all admire, all pay him rev’rence due.<br/> +There Socrates and Plato both I mark’d,<br/> +Nearest to him in rank; Democritus,<br/> +Who sets the world at chance, Diogenes,<br/> +With Heraclitus, and Empedocles,<br/> +And Anaxagoras, and Thales sage,<br/> +Zeno, and Dioscorides well read<br/> +In nature’s secret lore. Orpheus I mark’d<br/> +And Linus, Tully and moral Seneca,<br/> +Euclid and Ptolemy, Hippocrates,<br/> +Galenus, Avicen, and him who made<br/> +That commentary vast, Averroes. +</p> + +<p> +Of all to speak at full were vain attempt;<br/> +For my wide theme so urges, that ofttimes<br/> +My words fall short of what bechanc’d. In two<br/> +The six associates part. Another way<br/> +My sage guide leads me, from that air serene,<br/> +Into a climate ever vex’d with storms:<br/> +And to a part I come where no light shines. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.V"></a>CANTO V</h2> + +<p> +From the first circle I descended thus<br/> +Down to the second, which, a lesser space<br/> +Embracing, so much more of grief contains<br/> +Provoking bitter moans. There, Minos stands<br/> +Grinning with ghastly feature: he, of all<br/> +Who enter, strict examining the crimes, +</p> + +<p> +Gives sentence, and dismisses them beneath,<br/> +According as he foldeth him around:<br/> +For when before him comes th’ ill fated soul,<br/> +It all confesses; and that judge severe<br/> +Of sins, considering what place in hell<br/> +Suits the transgression, with his tail so oft<br/> +Himself encircles, as degrees beneath<br/> +He dooms it to descend. Before him stand<br/> +Always a num’rous throng; and in his turn<br/> +Each one to judgment passing, speaks, and hears<br/> +His fate, thence downward to his dwelling hurl’d. +</p> + +<p> +“O thou! who to this residence of woe<br/> +Approachest?” when he saw me coming, cried<br/> +Minos, relinquishing his dread employ,<br/> +“Look how thou enter here; beware in whom<br/> +Thou place thy trust; let not the entrance broad<br/> +Deceive thee to thy harm.” To him my guide:<br/> +“Wherefore exclaimest? Hinder not his way<br/> +By destiny appointed; so ’tis will’d<br/> +Where will and power are one. Ask thou no more.” +</p> + +<p> +Now ’gin the rueful wailings to be heard.<br/> +Now am I come where many a plaining voice<br/> +Smites on mine ear. Into a place I came<br/> +Where light was silent all. Bellowing there groan’d<br/> +A noise as of a sea in tempest torn<br/> +By warring winds. The stormy blast of hell<br/> +With restless fury drives the spirits on<br/> +Whirl’d round and dash’d amain with sore annoy. +</p> + +<p> +When they arrive before the ruinous sweep,<br/> +There shrieks are heard, there lamentations, moans,<br/> +And blasphemies ’gainst the good Power in heaven. +</p> + +<p> +I understood that to this torment sad<br/> +The carnal sinners are condemn’d, in whom<br/> +Reason by lust is sway’d. As in large troops<br/> +And multitudinous, when winter reigns,<br/> +The starlings on their wings are borne abroad;<br/> +So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls.<br/> +On this side and on that, above, below,<br/> +It drives them: hope of rest to solace them<br/> +Is none, nor e’en of milder pang. As cranes,<br/> +Chanting their dol’rous notes, traverse the sky,<br/> +Stretch’d out in long array: so I beheld<br/> +Spirits, who came loud wailing, hurried on<br/> +By their dire doom. Then I: “Instructor! who<br/> +Are these, by the black air so scourg’d?”—“The first<br/> +’Mong those, of whom thou question’st,” he replied,<br/> +“O’er many tongues was empress. She in vice<br/> +Of luxury was so shameless, that she made<br/> +Liking be lawful by promulg’d decree,<br/> +To clear the blame she had herself incurr’d.<br/> +This is Semiramis, of whom ’tis writ,<br/> +That she succeeded Ninus her espous’d;<br/> +And held the land, which now the Soldan rules.<br/> +The next in amorous fury slew herself,<br/> +And to Sicheus’ ashes broke her faith:<br/> +Then follows Cleopatra, lustful queen.” +</p> + +<p> +There mark’d I Helen, for whose sake so long<br/> +The time was fraught with evil; there the great<br/> +Achilles, who with love fought to the end.<br/> +Paris I saw, and Tristan; and beside<br/> +A thousand more he show’d me, and by name<br/> +Pointed them out, whom love bereav’d of life. +</p> + +<p> +When I had heard my sage instructor name<br/> +Those dames and knights of antique days, o’erpower’d<br/> +By pity, well-nigh in amaze my mind<br/> +Was lost; and I began: “Bard! willingly<br/> +I would address those two together coming,<br/> +Which seem so light before the wind.” He thus:<br/> +“Note thou, when nearer they to us approach.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then by that love which carries them along,<br/> +Entreat; and they will come.” Soon as the wind<br/> +Sway’d them toward us, I thus fram’d my speech:<br/> +“O wearied spirits! come, and hold discourse<br/> +With us, if by none else restrain’d.” As doves<br/> +By fond desire invited, on wide wings<br/> +And firm, to their sweet nest returning home,<br/> +Cleave the air, wafted by their will along;<br/> +Thus issu’d from that troop, where Dido ranks,<br/> +They through the ill air speeding; with such force<br/> +My cry prevail’d by strong affection urg’d. +</p> + +<p> +“O gracious creature and benign! who go’st<br/> +Visiting, through this element obscure,<br/> +Us, who the world with bloody stain imbru’d;<br/> +If for a friend the King of all we own’d,<br/> +Our pray’r to him should for thy peace arise,<br/> +Since thou hast pity on our evil plight.<br/> +()f whatsoe’er to hear or to discourse<br/> +It pleases thee, that will we hear, of that<br/> +Freely with thee discourse, while e’er the wind,<br/> +As now, is mute. The land, that gave me birth,<br/> +Is situate on the coast, where Po descends<br/> +To rest in ocean with his sequent streams. +</p> + +<p> +“Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt,<br/> +Entangled him by that fair form, from me<br/> +Ta’en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still:<br/> +Love, that denial takes from none belov’d,<br/> +Caught me with pleasing him so passing well,<br/> +That, as thou see’st, he yet deserts me not. +</p> + +<p> +“Love brought us to one death: Caina waits<br/> +The soul, who spilt our life.” Such were their words;<br/> +At hearing which downward I bent my looks,<br/> +And held them there so long, that the bard cried:<br/> +“What art thou pond’ring?” I in answer thus:<br/> +“Alas! by what sweet thoughts, what fond desire<br/> +Must they at length to that ill pass have reach’d!” +</p> + +<p> +Then turning, I to them my speech address’d.<br/> +And thus began: “Francesca! your sad fate<br/> +Even to tears my grief and pity moves.<br/> +But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs,<br/> +By what, and how love granted, that ye knew<br/> +Your yet uncertain wishes?” She replied:<br/> +“No greater grief than to remember days<br/> +Of joy, when mis’ry is at hand! That kens<br/> +Thy learn’d instructor. Yet so eagerly<br/> +If thou art bent to know the primal root,<br/> +From whence our love gat being, I will do,<br/> +As one, who weeps and tells his tale. One day<br/> +For our delight we read of Lancelot,<br/> +How him love thrall’d. Alone we were, and no<br/> +Suspicion near us. Ofttimes by that reading<br/> +Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue<br/> +Fled from our alter’d cheek. But at one point<br/> +Alone we fell. When of that smile we read,<br/> +The wished smile, rapturously kiss’d<br/> +By one so deep in love, then he, who ne’er<br/> +From me shall separate, at once my lips<br/> +All trembling kiss’d. The book and writer both<br/> +Were love’s purveyors. In its leaves that day<br/> +We read no more.” While thus one spirit spake,<br/> +The other wail’d so sorely, that heartstruck<br/> +I through compassion fainting, seem’d not far<br/> +From death, and like a corpse fell to the ground. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.VI"></a>CANTO VI</h2> + +<p> +My sense reviving, that erewhile had droop’d<br/> +With pity for the kindred shades, whence grief<br/> +O’ercame me wholly, straight around I see<br/> +New torments, new tormented souls, which way<br/> +Soe’er I move, or turn, or bend my sight.<br/> +In the third circle I arrive, of show’rs<br/> +Ceaseless, accursed, heavy, and cold, unchang’d<br/> +For ever, both in kind and in degree.<br/> +Large hail, discolour’d water, sleety flaw<br/> +Through the dun midnight air stream’d down amain:<br/> +Stank all the land whereon that tempest fell. +</p> + +<p> +Cerberus, cruel monster, fierce and strange,<br/> +Through his wide threefold throat barks as a dog<br/> +Over the multitude immers’d beneath.<br/> +His eyes glare crimson, black his unctuous beard,<br/> +His belly large, and claw’d the hands, with which<br/> +He tears the spirits, flays them, and their limbs<br/> +Piecemeal disparts. Howling there spread, as curs,<br/> +Under the rainy deluge, with one side<br/> +The other screening, oft they roll them round,<br/> +A wretched, godless crew. When that great worm<br/> +Descried us, savage Cerberus, he op’d<br/> +His jaws, and the fangs show’d us; not a limb<br/> +Of him but trembled. Then my guide, his palms<br/> +Expanding on the ground, thence filled with earth<br/> +Rais’d them, and cast it in his ravenous maw. +</p> + +<p> +E’en as a dog, that yelling bays for food<br/> +His keeper, when the morsel comes, lets fall<br/> +His fury, bent alone with eager haste<br/> +To swallow it; so dropp’d the loathsome cheeks<br/> +Of demon Cerberus, who thund’ring stuns<br/> +The spirits, that they for deafness wish in vain. +</p> + +<p> +We, o’er the shades thrown prostrate by the brunt<br/> +Of the heavy tempest passing, set our feet<br/> +Upon their emptiness, that substance seem’d. +</p> + +<p> +They all along the earth extended lay<br/> +Save one, that sudden rais’d himself to sit,<br/> +Soon as that way he saw us pass. “O thou!”<br/> +He cried, “who through the infernal shades art led,<br/> +Own, if again thou know’st me. Thou wast fram’d<br/> +Or ere my frame was broken.” I replied:<br/> +“The anguish thou endur’st perchance so takes<br/> +Thy form from my remembrance, that it seems<br/> +As if I saw thee never. But inform<br/> +Me who thou art, that in a place so sad<br/> +Art set, and in such torment, that although<br/> +Other be greater, more disgustful none<br/> +Can be imagin’d.” He in answer thus: +</p> + +<p> +“Thy city heap’d with envy to the brim,<br/> +Ay that the measure overflows its bounds,<br/> +Held me in brighter days. Ye citizens<br/> +Were wont to name me Ciacco. For the sin<br/> +Of glutt’ny, damned vice, beneath this rain,<br/> +E’en as thou see’st, I with fatigue am worn;<br/> +Nor I sole spirit in this woe: all these<br/> +Have by like crime incurr’d like punishment.” +</p> + +<p> +No more he said, and I my speech resum’d:<br/> +“Ciacco! thy dire affliction grieves me much,<br/> +Even to tears. But tell me, if thou know’st,<br/> +What shall at length befall the citizens<br/> +Of the divided city; whether any just one<br/> +Inhabit there: and tell me of the cause,<br/> +Whence jarring discord hath assail’d it thus?” +</p> + +<p> +He then: “After long striving they will come<br/> +To blood; and the wild party from the woods<br/> +Will chase the other with much injury forth.<br/> +Then it behoves, that this must fall, within<br/> +Three solar circles; and the other rise<br/> +By borrow’d force of one, who under shore<br/> +Now rests. It shall a long space hold aloof<br/> +Its forehead, keeping under heavy weight<br/> +The other oppress’d, indignant at the load,<br/> +And grieving sore. The just are two in number,<br/> +But they neglected. Av’rice, envy, pride,<br/> +Three fatal sparks, have set the hearts of all<br/> +On fire.” Here ceas’d the lamentable sound;<br/> +And I continu’d thus: “Still would I learn<br/> +More from thee, farther parley still entreat.<br/> +Of Farinata and Tegghiaio say,<br/> +They who so well deserv’d, of Giacopo,<br/> +Arrigo, Mosca, and the rest, who bent<br/> +Their minds on working good. Oh! tell me where<br/> +They bide, and to their knowledge let me come.<br/> +For I am press’d with keen desire to hear,<br/> +If heaven’s sweet cup or poisonous drug of hell<br/> +Be to their lip assign’d.” He answer’d straight:<br/> +“These are yet blacker spirits. Various crimes<br/> +Have sunk them deeper in the dark abyss.<br/> +If thou so far descendest, thou mayst see them.<br/> +But to the pleasant world when thou return’st,<br/> +Of me make mention, I entreat thee, there.<br/> +No more I tell thee, answer thee no more.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, his fixed eyes he turn’d askance,<br/> +A little ey’d me, then bent down his head,<br/> +And ’midst his blind companions with it fell. +</p> + +<p> +When thus my guide: “No more his bed he leaves,<br/> +Ere the last angel-trumpet blow. The Power<br/> +Adverse to these shall then in glory come,<br/> +Each one forthwith to his sad tomb repair,<br/> +Resume his fleshly vesture and his form,<br/> +And hear the eternal doom re-echoing rend<br/> +The vault.” So pass’d we through that mixture foul<br/> +Of spirits and rain, with tardy steps; meanwhile<br/> +Touching, though slightly, on the life to come.<br/> +For thus I question’d: “Shall these tortures, Sir!<br/> +When the great sentence passes, be increas’d,<br/> +Or mitigated, or as now severe?” +</p> + +<p> +He then: “Consult thy knowledge; that decides<br/> +That as each thing to more perfection grows,<br/> +It feels more sensibly both good and pain.<br/> +Though ne’er to true perfection may arrive<br/> +This race accurs’d, yet nearer then than now<br/> +They shall approach it.” Compassing that path<br/> +Circuitous we journeyed, and discourse<br/> +Much more than I relate between us pass’d:<br/> +Till at the point, where the steps led below,<br/> +Arriv’d, there Plutus, the great foe, we found. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.VII"></a>CANTO VII</h2> + +<p> +“Ah me! O Satan! Satan!” loud exclaim’d<br/> +Plutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm:<br/> +And the kind sage, whom no event surpris’d,<br/> +To comfort me thus spake: “Let not thy fear<br/> +Harm thee, for power in him, be sure, is none<br/> +To hinder down this rock thy safe descent.”<br/> +Then to that sworn lip turning, “Peace!” he cried, +</p> + +<p> +“Curs’d wolf! thy fury inward on thyself<br/> +Prey, and consume thee! Through the dark profound<br/> +Not without cause he passes. So ’t is will’d<br/> +On high, there where the great Archangel pour’d<br/> +Heav’n’s vengeance on the first adulterer proud.” +</p> + +<p> +As sails full spread and bellying with the wind<br/> +Drop suddenly collaps’d, if the mast split;<br/> +So to the ground down dropp’d the cruel fiend. +</p> + +<p> +Thus we, descending to the fourth steep ledge,<br/> +Gain’d on the dismal shore, that all the woe<br/> +Hems in of all the universe. Ah me!<br/> +Almighty Justice! in what store thou heap’st<br/> +New pains, new troubles, as I here beheld!<br/> +Wherefore doth fault of ours bring us to this? +</p> + +<p> +E’en as a billow, on Charybdis rising,<br/> +Against encounter’d billow dashing breaks;<br/> +Such is the dance this wretched race must lead,<br/> +Whom more than elsewhere numerous here I found,<br/> +From one side and the other, with loud voice,<br/> +Both roll’d on weights by main forge of their breasts,<br/> +Then smote together, and each one forthwith<br/> +Roll’d them back voluble, turning again,<br/> +Exclaiming these, “Why holdest thou so fast?”<br/> +Those answering, “And why castest thou away?”<br/> +So still repeating their despiteful song,<br/> +They to the opposite point on either hand<br/> +Travers’d the horrid circle: then arriv’d,<br/> +Both turn’d them round, and through the middle space<br/> +Conflicting met again. At sight whereof<br/> +I, stung with grief, thus spake: “O say, my guide!<br/> +What race is this? Were these, whose heads are shorn,<br/> +On our left hand, all sep’rate to the church?” +</p> + +<p> +He straight replied: “In their first life these all<br/> +In mind were so distorted, that they made,<br/> +According to due measure, of their wealth,<br/> +No use. This clearly from their words collect,<br/> +Which they howl forth, at each extremity<br/> +Arriving of the circle, where their crime<br/> +Contrary’ in kind disparts them. To the church<br/> +Were separate those, that with no hairy cowls<br/> +Are crown’d, both Popes and Cardinals, o’er whom<br/> +Av’rice dominion absolute maintains.” +</p> + +<p> +I then: “Mid such as these some needs must be,<br/> +Whom I shall recognize, that with the blot<br/> +Of these foul sins were stain’d.” He answering thus:<br/> +“Vain thought conceiv’st thou. That ignoble life,<br/> +Which made them vile before, now makes them dark,<br/> +And to all knowledge indiscernible.<br/> +Forever they shall meet in this rude shock:<br/> +These from the tomb with clenched grasp shall rise,<br/> +Those with close-shaven locks. That ill they gave,<br/> +And ill they kept, hath of the beauteous world<br/> +Depriv’d, and set them at this strife, which needs<br/> +No labour’d phrase of mine to set if off.<br/> +Now may’st thou see, my son! how brief, how vain,<br/> +The goods committed into fortune’s hands,<br/> +For which the human race keep such a coil!<br/> +Not all the gold, that is beneath the moon,<br/> +Or ever hath been, of these toil-worn souls<br/> +Might purchase rest for one.” I thus rejoin’d: +</p> + +<p> +“My guide! of thee this also would I learn;<br/> +This fortune, that thou speak’st of, what it is,<br/> +Whose talons grasp the blessings of the world?” +</p> + +<p> +He thus: “O beings blind! what ignorance<br/> +Besets you? Now my judgment hear and mark.<br/> +He, whose transcendent wisdom passes all,<br/> +The heavens creating, gave them ruling powers<br/> +To guide them, so that each part shines to each,<br/> +Their light in equal distribution pour’d.<br/> +By similar appointment he ordain’d<br/> +Over the world’s bright images to rule.<br/> +Superintendence of a guiding hand<br/> +And general minister, which at due time<br/> +May change the empty vantages of life<br/> +From race to race, from one to other’s blood,<br/> +Beyond prevention of man’s wisest care:<br/> +Wherefore one nation rises into sway,<br/> +Another languishes, e’en as her will<br/> +Decrees, from us conceal’d, as in the grass<br/> +The serpent train. Against her nought avails<br/> +Your utmost wisdom. She with foresight plans,<br/> +Judges, and carries on her reign, as theirs<br/> +The other powers divine. Her changes know<br/> +Nore intermission: by necessity<br/> +She is made swift, so frequent come who claim<br/> +Succession in her favours. This is she,<br/> +So execrated e’en by those, whose debt<br/> +To her is rather praise; they wrongfully<br/> +With blame requite her, and with evil word;<br/> +But she is blessed, and for that recks not:<br/> +Amidst the other primal beings glad<br/> +Rolls on her sphere, and in her bliss exults.<br/> +Now on our way pass we, to heavier woe<br/> +Descending: for each star is falling now,<br/> +That mounted at our entrance, and forbids<br/> +Too long our tarrying.” We the circle cross’d<br/> +To the next steep, arriving at a well,<br/> +That boiling pours itself down to a foss<br/> +Sluic’d from its source. Far murkier was the wave<br/> +Than sablest grain: and we in company<br/> +Of the’ inky waters, journeying by their side,<br/> +Enter’d, though by a different track, beneath.<br/> +Into a lake, the Stygian nam’d, expands<br/> +The dismal stream, when it hath reach’d the foot<br/> +Of the grey wither’d cliffs. Intent I stood<br/> +To gaze, and in the marish sunk descried<br/> +A miry tribe, all naked, and with looks<br/> +Betok’ning rage. They with their hands alone<br/> +Struck not, but with the head, the breast, the feet,<br/> +Cutting each other piecemeal with their fangs. +</p> + +<p> +The good instructor spake; “Now seest thou, son!<br/> +The souls of those, whom anger overcame.<br/> +This too for certain know, that underneath<br/> +The water dwells a multitude, whose sighs<br/> +Into these bubbles make the surface heave,<br/> +As thine eye tells thee wheresoe’er it turn.”<br/> +Fix’d in the slime they say: “Sad once were we<br/> +In the sweet air made gladsome by the sun,<br/> +Carrying a foul and lazy mist within:<br/> +Now in these murky settlings are we sad.”<br/> +Such dolorous strain they gurgle in their throats.<br/> +But word distinct can utter none.” Our route<br/> +Thus compass’d we, a segment widely stretch’d<br/> +Between the dry embankment, and the core<br/> +Of the loath’d pool, turning meanwhile our eyes<br/> +Downward on those who gulp’d its muddy lees;<br/> +Nor stopp’d, till to a tower’s low base we came. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.VIII"></a>CANTO VIII</h2> + +<p> +My theme pursuing, I relate that ere<br/> +We reach’d the lofty turret’s base, our eyes<br/> +Its height ascended, where two cressets hung<br/> +We mark’d, and from afar another light<br/> +Return the signal, so remote, that scarce<br/> +The eye could catch its beam. I turning round<br/> +To the deep source of knowledge, thus inquir’d:<br/> +“Say what this means? and what that other light<br/> +In answer set? what agency doth this?” +</p> + +<p> +“There on the filthy waters,” he replied,<br/> +“E’en now what next awaits us mayst thou see,<br/> +If the marsh-gender’d fog conceal it not.” +</p> + +<p> +Never was arrow from the cord dismiss’d,<br/> +That ran its way so nimbly through the air,<br/> +As a small bark, that through the waves I spied<br/> +Toward us coming, under the sole sway<br/> +Of one that ferried it, who cried aloud:<br/> +“Art thou arriv’d, fell spirit?”—“Phlegyas, Phlegyas,<br/> +This time thou criest in vain,” my lord replied;<br/> +“No longer shalt thou have us, but while o’er<br/> +The slimy pool we pass.” As one who hears<br/> +Of some great wrong he hath sustain’d, whereat<br/> +Inly he pines; so Phlegyas inly pin’d<br/> +In his fierce ire. My guide descending stepp’d<br/> +Into the skiff, and bade me enter next<br/> +Close at his side; nor till my entrance seem’d<br/> +The vessel freighted. Soon as both embark’d,<br/> +Cutting the waves, goes on the ancient prow,<br/> +More deeply than with others it is wont. +</p> + +<p> +While we our course o’er the dead channel held.<br/> +One drench’d in mire before me came, and said;<br/> +“Who art thou, that thou comest ere thine hour?” +</p> + +<p> +I answer’d: “Though I come, I tarry not;<br/> +But who art thou, that art become so foul?” +</p> + +<p> +“One, as thou seest, who mourn:” he straight replied. +</p> + +<p> +To which I thus: “In mourning and in woe,<br/> +Curs’d spirit! tarry thou.g I know thee well,<br/> +E’en thus in filth disguis’d.” Then stretch’d he forth<br/> +Hands to the bark; whereof my teacher sage<br/> +Aware, thrusting him back: “Away! down there; +</p> + +<p> +“To the’ other dogs!” then, with his arms my neck<br/> +Encircling, kiss’d my cheek, and spake: “O soul<br/> +Justly disdainful! blest was she in whom<br/> +Thou was conceiv’d! He in the world was one<br/> +For arrogance noted; to his memory<br/> +No virtue lends its lustre; even so<br/> +Here is his shadow furious. There above<br/> +How many now hold themselves mighty kings<br/> +Who here like swine shall wallow in the mire,<br/> +Leaving behind them horrible dispraise!” +</p> + +<p> +I then: “Master! him fain would I behold<br/> +Whelm’d in these dregs, before we quit the lake.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus: “Or ever to thy view the shore<br/> +Be offer’d, satisfied shall be that wish,<br/> +Which well deserves completion.” Scarce his words<br/> +Were ended, when I saw the miry tribes<br/> +Set on him with such violence, that yet<br/> +For that render I thanks to God and praise<br/> +“To Filippo Argenti:” cried they all:<br/> +And on himself the moody Florentine<br/> +Turn’d his avenging fangs. Him here we left,<br/> +Nor speak I of him more. But on mine ear<br/> +Sudden a sound of lamentation smote,<br/> +Whereat mine eye unbarr’d I sent abroad. +</p> + +<p> +And thus the good instructor: “Now, my son!<br/> +Draws near the city, that of Dis is nam’d,<br/> +With its grave denizens, a mighty throng.” +</p> + +<p> +I thus: “The minarets already, Sir!<br/> +There certes in the valley I descry,<br/> +Gleaming vermilion, as if they from fire<br/> +Had issu’d.” He replied: “Eternal fire,<br/> +That inward burns, shows them with ruddy flame<br/> +Illum’d; as in this nether hell thou seest.” +</p> + +<p> +We came within the fosses deep, that moat<br/> +This region comfortless. The walls appear’d<br/> +As they were fram’d of iron. We had made<br/> +Wide circuit, ere a place we reach’d, where loud<br/> +The mariner cried vehement: “Go forth!<br/> +The’ entrance is here!” Upon the gates I spied<br/> +More than a thousand, who of old from heaven<br/> +Were hurl’d. With ireful gestures, “Who is this,”<br/> +They cried, “that without death first felt, goes through<br/> +The regions of the dead?” My sapient guide<br/> +Made sign that he for secret parley wish’d;<br/> +Whereat their angry scorn abating, thus<br/> +They spake: “Come thou alone; and let him go<br/> +Who hath so hardily enter’d this realm.<br/> +Alone return he by his witless way;<br/> +If well he know it, let him prove. For thee,<br/> +Here shalt thou tarry, who through clime so dark<br/> +Hast been his escort.” Now bethink thee, reader!<br/> +What cheer was mine at sound of those curs’d words.<br/> +I did believe I never should return. +</p> + +<p> +“O my lov’d guide! who more than seven times<br/> +Security hast render’d me, and drawn<br/> +From peril deep, whereto I stood expos’d,<br/> +Desert me not,” I cried, “in this extreme.<br/> +And if our onward going be denied,<br/> +Together trace we back our steps with speed.” +</p> + +<p> +My liege, who thither had conducted me,<br/> +Replied: “Fear not: for of our passage none<br/> +Hath power to disappoint us, by such high<br/> +Authority permitted. But do thou<br/> +Expect me here; meanwhile thy wearied spirit<br/> +Comfort, and feed with kindly hope, assur’d<br/> +I will not leave thee in this lower world.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, departs the sire benevolent,<br/> +And quits me. Hesitating I remain<br/> +At war ’twixt will and will not in my thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +I could not hear what terms he offer’d them,<br/> +But they conferr’d not long, for all at once<br/> +To trial fled within. Clos’d were the gates<br/> +By those our adversaries on the breast<br/> +Of my liege lord: excluded he return’d<br/> +To me with tardy steps. Upon the ground<br/> +His eyes were bent, and from his brow eras’d<br/> +All confidence, while thus with sighs he spake:<br/> +“Who hath denied me these abodes of woe?”<br/> +Then thus to me: “That I am anger’d, think<br/> +No ground of terror: in this trial I<br/> +Shall vanquish, use what arts they may within<br/> +For hindrance. This their insolence, not new,<br/> +Erewhile at gate less secret they display’d,<br/> +Which still is without bolt; upon its arch<br/> +Thou saw’st the deadly scroll: and even now<br/> +On this side of its entrance, down the steep,<br/> +Passing the circles, unescorted, comes<br/> +One whose strong might can open us this land.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.IX"></a>CANTO IX</h2> + +<p> +The hue, which coward dread on my pale cheeks<br/> +Imprinted, when I saw my guide turn back,<br/> +Chas’d that from his which newly they had worn,<br/> +And inwardly restrain’d it. He, as one<br/> +Who listens, stood attentive: for his eye<br/> +Not far could lead him through the sable air,<br/> +And the thick-gath’ring cloud. “It yet behooves<br/> +We win this fight”—thus he began—“if not—<br/> +Such aid to us is offer’d.—Oh, how long<br/> +Me seems it, ere the promis’d help arrive!” +</p> + +<p> +I noted, how the sequel of his words<br/> +Clok’d their beginning; for the last he spake<br/> +Agreed not with the first. But not the less<br/> +My fear was at his saying; sith I drew<br/> +To import worse perchance, than that he held,<br/> +His mutilated speech. “Doth ever any<br/> +Into this rueful concave’s extreme depth<br/> +Descend, out of the first degree, whose pain<br/> +Is deprivation merely of sweet hope?” +</p> + +<p> +Thus I inquiring. “Rarely,” he replied,<br/> +“It chances, that among us any makes<br/> +This journey, which I wend. Erewhile ’tis true<br/> +Once came I here beneath, conjur’d by fell<br/> +Erictho, sorceress, who compell’d the shades<br/> +Back to their bodies. No long space my flesh<br/> +Was naked of me, when within these walls<br/> +She made me enter, to draw forth a spirit<br/> +From out of Judas’ circle. Lowest place<br/> +Is that of all, obscurest, and remov’d<br/> +Farthest from heav’n’s all-circling orb. The road<br/> +Full well I know: thou therefore rest secure.<br/> +That lake, the noisome stench exhaling, round<br/> +The city’ of grief encompasses, which now<br/> +We may not enter without rage.” Yet more<br/> +He added: but I hold it not in mind,<br/> +For that mine eye toward the lofty tower<br/> +Had drawn me wholly, to its burning top.<br/> +Where in an instant I beheld uprisen<br/> +At once three hellish furies stain’d with blood:<br/> +In limb and motion feminine they seem’d;<br/> +Around them greenest hydras twisting roll’d<br/> +Their volumes; adders and cerastes crept<br/> +Instead of hair, and their fierce temples bound. +</p> + +<p> +He knowing well the miserable hags<br/> +Who tend the queen of endless woe, thus spake: +</p> + +<p> +“Mark thou each dire Erinnys. To the left<br/> +This is Megaera; on the right hand she,<br/> +Who wails, Alecto; and Tisiphone<br/> +I’ th’ midst.” This said, in silence he remain’d<br/> +Their breast they each one clawing tore; themselves<br/> +Smote with their palms, and such shrill clamour rais’d,<br/> +That to the bard I clung, suspicion-bound.<br/> +“Hasten Medusa: so to adamant<br/> +Him shall we change;” all looking down exclaim’d.<br/> +“E’en when by Theseus’ might assail’d, we took<br/> +No ill revenge.” “Turn thyself round, and keep<br/> +Thy count’nance hid; for if the Gorgon dire<br/> +Be shown, and thou shouldst view it, thy return<br/> +Upwards would be for ever lost.” This said,<br/> +Himself my gentle master turn’d me round,<br/> +Nor trusted he my hands, but with his own<br/> +He also hid me. Ye of intellect<br/> +Sound and entire, mark well the lore conceal’d<br/> +Under close texture of the mystic strain! +</p> + +<p> +And now there came o’er the perturbed waves<br/> +Loud-crashing, terrible, a sound that made<br/> +Either shore tremble, as if of a wind<br/> +Impetuous, from conflicting vapours sprung,<br/> +That ’gainst some forest driving all its might,<br/> +Plucks off the branches, beats them down and hurls<br/> +Afar; then onward passing proudly sweeps<br/> +Its whirlwind rage, while beasts and shepherds fly. +</p> + +<p> +Mine eyes he loos’d, and spake: “And now direct<br/> +Thy visual nerve along that ancient foam,<br/> +There, thickest where the smoke ascends.” As frogs<br/> +Before their foe the serpent, through the wave<br/> +Ply swiftly all, till at the ground each one<br/> +Lies on a heap; more than a thousand spirits<br/> +Destroy’d, so saw I fleeing before one<br/> +Who pass’d with unwet feet the Stygian sound.<br/> +He, from his face removing the gross air,<br/> +Oft his left hand forth stretch’d, and seem’d alone<br/> +By that annoyance wearied. I perceiv’d<br/> +That he was sent from heav’n, and to my guide<br/> +Turn’d me, who signal made that I should stand<br/> +Quiet, and bend to him. Ah me! how full<br/> +Of noble anger seem’d he! To the gate<br/> +He came, and with his wand touch’d it, whereat<br/> +Open without impediment it flew. +</p> + +<p> +“Outcasts of heav’n! O abject race and scorn’d!”<br/> +Began he on the horrid grunsel standing,<br/> +“Whence doth this wild excess of insolence<br/> +Lodge in you? wherefore kick you ’gainst that will<br/> +Ne’er frustrate of its end, and which so oft<br/> +Hath laid on you enforcement of your pangs?<br/> +What profits at the fays to but the horn?<br/> +Your Cerberus, if ye remember, hence<br/> +Bears still, peel’d of their hair, his throat and maw.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, he turn’d back o’er the filthy way,<br/> +And syllable to us spake none, but wore<br/> +The semblance of a man by other care<br/> +Beset, and keenly press’d, than thought of him<br/> +Who in his presence stands. Then we our steps<br/> +Toward that territory mov’d, secure<br/> +After the hallow’d words. We unoppos’d<br/> +There enter’d; and my mind eager to learn<br/> +What state a fortress like to that might hold,<br/> +I soon as enter’d throw mine eye around,<br/> +And see on every part wide-stretching space<br/> +Replete with bitter pain and torment ill. +</p> + +<p> +As where Rhone stagnates on the plains of Arles,<br/> +Or as at Pola, near Quarnaro’s gulf,<br/> +That closes Italy and laves her bounds,<br/> +The place is all thick spread with sepulchres;<br/> +So was it here, save what in horror here<br/> +Excell’d: for ’midst the graves were scattered flames,<br/> +Wherewith intensely all throughout they burn’d,<br/> +That iron for no craft there hotter needs. +</p> + +<p> +Their lids all hung suspended, and beneath<br/> +From them forth issu’d lamentable moans,<br/> +Such as the sad and tortur’d well might raise. +</p> + +<p> +I thus: “Master! say who are these, interr’d<br/> +Within these vaults, of whom distinct we hear<br/> +The dolorous sighs?” He answer thus return’d: +</p> + +<p> +“The arch-heretics are here, accompanied<br/> +By every sect their followers; and much more,<br/> +Than thou believest, tombs are freighted: like<br/> +With like is buried; and the monuments<br/> +Are different in degrees of heat.” This said,<br/> +He to the right hand turning, on we pass’d<br/> +Betwixt the afflicted and the ramparts high. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.X"></a>CANTO X</h2> + +<p> +Now by a secret pathway we proceed,<br/> +Between the walls, that hem the region round,<br/> +And the tormented souls: my master first,<br/> +I close behind his steps. “Virtue supreme!”<br/> +I thus began; “who through these ample orbs<br/> +In circuit lead’st me, even as thou will’st,<br/> +Speak thou, and satisfy my wish. May those,<br/> +Who lie within these sepulchres, be seen?<br/> +Already all the lids are rais’d, and none<br/> +O’er them keeps watch.” He thus in answer spake<br/> +“They shall be closed all, what-time they here<br/> +From Josaphat return’d shall come, and bring<br/> +Their bodies, which above they now have left.<br/> +The cemetery on this part obtain<br/> +With Epicurus all his followers,<br/> +Who with the body make the spirit die.<br/> +Here therefore satisfaction shall be soon<br/> +Both to the question ask’d, and to the wish,<br/> +Which thou conceal’st in silence.” I replied:<br/> +“I keep not, guide belov’d! from thee my heart<br/> +Secreted, but to shun vain length of words,<br/> +A lesson erewhile taught me by thyself.” +</p> + +<p> +“O Tuscan! thou who through the city of fire<br/> +Alive art passing, so discreet of speech!<br/> +Here please thee stay awhile. Thy utterance<br/> +Declares the place of thy nativity<br/> +To be that noble land, with which perchance<br/> +I too severely dealt.” Sudden that sound<br/> +Forth issu’d from a vault, whereat in fear<br/> +I somewhat closer to my leader’s side<br/> +Approaching, he thus spake: “What dost thou? Turn.<br/> +Lo, Farinata, there! who hath himself<br/> +Uplifted: from his girdle upwards all<br/> +Expos’d behold him.” On his face was mine<br/> +Already fix’d; his breast and forehead there<br/> +Erecting, seem’d as in high scorn he held<br/> +E’en hell. Between the sepulchres to him<br/> +My guide thrust me with fearless hands and prompt,<br/> +This warning added: “See thy words be clear!” +</p> + +<p> +He, soon as there I stood at the tomb’s foot,<br/> +Ey’d me a space, then in disdainful mood<br/> +Address’d me: “Say, what ancestors were thine?” +</p> + +<p> +I, willing to obey him, straight reveal’d<br/> +The whole, nor kept back aught: whence he, his brow<br/> +Somewhat uplifting, cried: “Fiercely were they<br/> +Adverse to me, my party, and the blood<br/> +From whence I sprang: twice therefore I abroad<br/> +Scatter’d them.” “Though driv’n out, yet they each time<br/> +From all parts,” answer’d I, “return’d; an art<br/> +Which yours have shown, they are not skill’d to learn.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, peering forth from the unclosed jaw,<br/> +Rose from his side a shade, high as the chin,<br/> +Leaning, methought, upon its knees uprais’d.<br/> +It look’d around, as eager to explore<br/> +If there were other with me; but perceiving<br/> +That fond imagination quench’d, with tears<br/> +Thus spake: “If thou through this blind prison go’st.<br/> +Led by thy lofty genius and profound,<br/> +Where is my son? and wherefore not with thee?” +</p> + +<p> +I straight replied: “Not of myself I come,<br/> +By him, who there expects me, through this clime<br/> +Conducted, whom perchance Guido thy son<br/> +Had in contempt.” Already had his words<br/> +And mode of punishment read me his name,<br/> +Whence I so fully answer’d. He at once<br/> +Exclaim’d, up starting, “How! said’st thou he HAD?<br/> +No longer lives he? Strikes not on his eye<br/> +The blessed daylight?” Then of some delay<br/> +I made ere my reply aware, down fell<br/> +Supine, not after forth appear’d he more. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the other, great of soul, near whom<br/> +I yet was station’d, chang’d not count’nance stern,<br/> +Nor mov’d the neck, nor bent his ribbed side.<br/> +“And if,” continuing the first discourse,<br/> +“They in this art,” he cried, “small skill have shown,<br/> +That doth torment me more e’en than this bed.<br/> +But not yet fifty times shall be relum’d<br/> +Her aspect, who reigns here Queen of this realm,<br/> +Ere thou shalt know the full weight of that art.<br/> +So to the pleasant world mayst thou return,<br/> +As thou shalt tell me, why in all their laws,<br/> +Against my kin this people is so fell?” +</p> + +<p> +“The slaughter and great havoc,” I replied,<br/> +“That colour’d Arbia’s flood with crimson stain—<br/> +To these impute, that in our hallow’d dome<br/> +Such orisons ascend.” Sighing he shook<br/> +The head, then thus resum’d: “In that affray<br/> +I stood not singly, nor without just cause<br/> +Assuredly should with the rest have stirr’d;<br/> +But singly there I stood, when by consent<br/> +Of all, Florence had to the ground been raz’d,<br/> +The one who openly forbad the deed.” +</p> + +<p> +“So may thy lineage find at last repose,”<br/> +I thus adjur’d him, “as thou solve this knot,<br/> +Which now involves my mind. If right I hear,<br/> +Ye seem to view beforehand, that which time<br/> +Leads with him, of the present uninform’d.” +</p> + +<p> +“We view, as one who hath an evil sight,”<br/> +He answer’d, “plainly, objects far remote:<br/> +So much of his large spendour yet imparts<br/> +The’ Almighty Ruler; but when they approach<br/> +Or actually exist, our intellect<br/> +Then wholly fails, nor of your human state<br/> +Except what others bring us know we aught.<br/> +Hence therefore mayst thou understand, that all<br/> +Our knowledge in that instant shall expire,<br/> +When on futurity the portals close.” +</p> + +<p> +Then conscious of my fault, and by remorse<br/> +Smitten, I added thus: “Now shalt thou say<br/> +To him there fallen, that his offspring still<br/> +Is to the living join’d; and bid him know,<br/> +That if from answer silent I abstain’d,<br/> +’Twas that my thought was occupied intent<br/> +Upon that error, which thy help hath solv’d.” +</p> + +<p> +But now my master summoning me back<br/> +I heard, and with more eager haste besought<br/> +The spirit to inform me, who with him<br/> +Partook his lot. He answer thus return’d: +</p> + +<p> +“More than a thousand with me here are laid<br/> +Within is Frederick, second of that name,<br/> +And the Lord Cardinal, and of the rest<br/> +I speak not.” He, this said, from sight withdrew.<br/> +But I my steps towards the ancient bard<br/> +Reverting, ruminated on the words<br/> +Betokening me such ill. Onward he mov’d,<br/> +And thus in going question’d: “Whence the’ amaze<br/> +That holds thy senses wrapt?” I satisfied<br/> +The’ inquiry, and the sage enjoin’d me straight:<br/> +“Let thy safe memory store what thou hast heard<br/> +To thee importing harm; and note thou this,”<br/> +With his rais’d finger bidding me take heed, +</p> + +<p> +“When thou shalt stand before her gracious beam,<br/> +Whose bright eye all surveys, she of thy life<br/> +The future tenour will to thee unfold.” +</p> + +<p> +Forthwith he to the left hand turn’d his feet:<br/> +We left the wall, and tow’rds the middle space<br/> +Went by a path, that to a valley strikes;<br/> +Which e’en thus high exhal’d its noisome steam. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XI"></a>CANTO XI</h2> + +<p> +Upon the utmost verge of a high bank,<br/> +By craggy rocks environ’d round, we came,<br/> +Where woes beneath more cruel yet were stow’d:<br/> +And here to shun the horrible excess<br/> +Of fetid exhalation, upward cast<br/> +From the profound abyss, behind the lid<br/> +Of a great monument we stood retir’d, +</p> + +<p> +Whereon this scroll I mark’d: “I have in charge<br/> +Pope Anastasius, whom Photinus drew<br/> +From the right path.—Ere our descent behooves<br/> +We make delay, that somewhat first the sense,<br/> +To the dire breath accustom’d, afterward<br/> +Regard it not.” My master thus; to whom<br/> +Answering I spake: “Some compensation find<br/> +That the time past not wholly lost.” He then:<br/> +“Lo! how my thoughts e’en to thy wishes tend!<br/> +My son! within these rocks,” he thus began,<br/> +“Are three close circles in gradation plac’d,<br/> +As these which now thou leav’st. Each one is full<br/> +Of spirits accurs’d; but that the sight alone<br/> +Hereafter may suffice thee, listen how<br/> +And for what cause in durance they abide. +</p> + +<p> +“Of all malicious act abhorr’d in heaven,<br/> +The end is injury; and all such end<br/> +Either by force or fraud works other’s woe<br/> +But fraud, because of man peculiar evil,<br/> +To God is more displeasing; and beneath<br/> +The fraudulent are therefore doom’d to’ endure<br/> +Severer pang. The violent occupy<br/> +All the first circle; and because to force<br/> +Three persons are obnoxious, in three rounds<br/> +Hach within other sep’rate is it fram’d.<br/> +To God, his neighbour, and himself, by man<br/> +Force may be offer’d; to himself I say<br/> +And his possessions, as thou soon shalt hear<br/> +At full. Death, violent death, and painful wounds<br/> +Upon his neighbour he inflicts; and wastes<br/> +By devastation, pillage, and the flames,<br/> +His substance. Slayers, and each one that smites<br/> +In malice, plund’rers, and all robbers, hence<br/> +The torment undergo of the first round<br/> +In different herds. Man can do violence<br/> +To himself and his own blessings: and for this<br/> +He in the second round must aye deplore<br/> +With unavailing penitence his crime,<br/> +Whoe’er deprives himself of life and light,<br/> +In reckless lavishment his talent wastes,<br/> +And sorrows there where he should dwell in joy.<br/> +To God may force be offer’d, in the heart<br/> +Denying and blaspheming his high power,<br/> +And nature with her kindly law contemning.<br/> +And thence the inmost round marks with its seal<br/> +Sodom and Cahors, and all such as speak<br/> +Contemptuously’ of the Godhead in their hearts. +</p> + +<p> +“Fraud, that in every conscience leaves a sting,<br/> +May be by man employ’d on one, whose trust<br/> +He wins, or on another who withholds<br/> +Strict confidence. Seems as the latter way<br/> +Broke but the bond of love which Nature makes.<br/> +Whence in the second circle have their nest<br/> +Dissimulation, witchcraft, flatteries,<br/> +Theft, falsehood, simony, all who seduce<br/> +To lust, or set their honesty at pawn,<br/> +With such vile scum as these. The other way<br/> +Forgets both Nature’s general love, and that<br/> +Which thereto added afterwards gives birth<br/> +To special faith. Whence in the lesser circle,<br/> +Point of the universe, dread seat of Dis,<br/> +The traitor is eternally consum’d.” +</p> + +<p> +I thus: “Instructor, clearly thy discourse<br/> +Proceeds, distinguishing the hideous chasm<br/> +And its inhabitants with skill exact.<br/> +But tell me this: they of the dull, fat pool,<br/> +Whom the rain beats, or whom the tempest drives,<br/> +Or who with tongues so fierce conflicting meet,<br/> +Wherefore within the city fire-illum’d<br/> +Are not these punish’d, if God’s wrath be on them?<br/> +And if it be not, wherefore in such guise<br/> +Are they condemned?” He answer thus return’d:<br/> +“Wherefore in dotage wanders thus thy mind,<br/> +Not so accustom’d? or what other thoughts<br/> +Possess it? Dwell not in thy memory<br/> +The words, wherein thy ethic page describes<br/> +Three dispositions adverse to Heav’n’s will,<br/> +Incont’nence, malice, and mad brutishness,<br/> +And how incontinence the least offends<br/> +God, and least guilt incurs? If well thou note<br/> +This judgment, and remember who they are,<br/> +Without these walls to vain repentance doom’d,<br/> +Thou shalt discern why they apart are plac’d<br/> +From these fell spirits, and less wreakful pours<br/> +Justice divine on them its vengeance down.” +</p> + +<p> +“O Sun! who healest all imperfect sight,<br/> +Thou so content’st me, when thou solv’st my doubt,<br/> +That ignorance not less than knowledge charms.<br/> +Yet somewhat turn thee back,” I in these words<br/> +Continu’d, “where thou saidst, that usury<br/> +Offends celestial Goodness; and this knot<br/> +Perplex’d unravel.” He thus made reply:<br/> +“Philosophy, to an attentive ear,<br/> +Clearly points out, not in one part alone,<br/> +How imitative nature takes her course<br/> +From the celestial mind and from its art:<br/> +And where her laws the Stagyrite unfolds,<br/> +Not many leaves scann’d o’er, observing well<br/> +Thou shalt discover, that your art on her<br/> +Obsequious follows, as the learner treads<br/> +In his instructor’s step, so that your art<br/> +Deserves the name of second in descent<br/> +From God. These two, if thou recall to mind<br/> +Creation’s holy book, from the beginning<br/> +Were the right source of life and excellence<br/> +To human kind. But in another path<br/> +The usurer walks; and Nature in herself<br/> +And in her follower thus he sets at nought,<br/> +Placing elsewhere his hope. But follow now<br/> +My steps on forward journey bent; for now<br/> +The Pisces play with undulating glance<br/> +Along the’ horizon, and the Wain lies all<br/> +O’er the north-west; and onward there a space<br/> +Is our steep passage down the rocky height.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XII"></a>CANTO XII</h2> + +<p> +The place where to descend the precipice<br/> +We came, was rough as Alp, and on its verge<br/> +Such object lay, as every eye would shun. +</p> + +<p> +As is that ruin, which Adice’s stream<br/> +On this side Trento struck, should’ring the wave,<br/> +Or loos’d by earthquake or for lack of prop;<br/> +For from the mountain’s summit, whence it mov’d<br/> +To the low level, so the headlong rock<br/> +Is shiver’d, that some passage it might give<br/> +To him who from above would pass; e’en such<br/> +Into the chasm was that descent: and there<br/> +At point of the disparted ridge lay stretch’d<br/> +The infamy of Crete, detested brood<br/> +Of the feign’d heifer: and at sight of us<br/> +It gnaw’d itself, as one with rage distract. +</p> + +<p> +To him my guide exclaim’d: “Perchance thou deem’st<br/> +The King of Athens here, who, in the world<br/> +Above, thy death contriv’d. Monster! avaunt!<br/> +He comes not tutor’d by thy sister’s art,<br/> +But to behold your torments is he come.” +</p> + +<p> +Like to a bull, that with impetuous spring<br/> +Darts, at the moment when the fatal blow<br/> +Hath struck him, but unable to proceed<br/> +Plunges on either side; so saw I plunge<br/> +The Minotaur; whereat the sage exclaim’d:<br/> +“Run to the passage! while he storms, ’t is well<br/> +That thou descend.” Thus down our road we took<br/> +Through those dilapidated crags, that oft<br/> +Mov’d underneath my feet, to weight like theirs<br/> +Unus’d. I pond’ring went, and thus he spake: +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps thy thoughts are of this ruin’d steep,<br/> +Guarded by the brute violence, which I<br/> +Have vanquish’d now. Know then, that when I erst<br/> +Hither descended to the nether hell,<br/> +This rock was not yet fallen. But past doubt<br/> +(If well I mark) not long ere He arrived,<br/> +Who carried off from Dis the mighty spoil<br/> +Of the highest circle, then through all its bounds<br/> +Such trembling seiz’d the deep concave and foul,<br/> +I thought the universe was thrill’d with love,<br/> +Whereby, there are who deem, the world hath oft<br/> +Been into chaos turn’d: and in that point,<br/> +Here, and elsewhere, that old rock toppled down.<br/> +But fix thine eyes beneath: the river of blood<br/> +Approaches, in the which all those are steep’d,<br/> +Who have by violence injur’d.” O blind lust!<br/> +O foolish wrath! who so dost goad us on<br/> +In the brief life, and in the eternal then<br/> +Thus miserably o’erwhelm us. I beheld<br/> +An ample foss, that in a bow was bent,<br/> +As circling all the plain; for so my guide<br/> +Had told. Between it and the rampart’s base<br/> +On trail ran Centaurs, with keen arrows arm’d,<br/> +As to the chase they on the earth were wont. +</p> + +<p> +At seeing us descend they each one stood;<br/> +And issuing from the troop, three sped with bows<br/> +And missile weapons chosen first; of whom<br/> +One cried from far: “Say to what pain ye come<br/> +Condemn’d, who down this steep have journied? Speak<br/> +From whence ye stand, or else the bow I draw.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom my guide: “Our answer shall be made<br/> +To Chiron, there, when nearer him we come.<br/> +Ill was thy mind, thus ever quick and rash.” +</p> + +<p> +Then me he touch’d, and spake: “Nessus is this,<br/> +Who for the fair Deianira died,<br/> +And wrought himself revenge for his own fate.<br/> +He in the midst, that on his breast looks down,<br/> +Is the great Chiron who Achilles nurs’d;<br/> +That other Pholus, prone to wrath.” Around<br/> +The foss these go by thousands, aiming shafts<br/> +At whatsoever spirit dares emerge<br/> +From out the blood, more than his guilt allows. +</p> + +<p> +We to those beasts, that rapid strode along,<br/> +Drew near, when Chiron took an arrow forth,<br/> +And with the notch push’d back his shaggy beard<br/> +To the cheek-bone, then his great mouth to view<br/> +Exposing, to his fellows thus exclaim’d:<br/> +“Are ye aware, that he who comes behind<br/> +Moves what he touches? The feet of the dead<br/> +Are not so wont.” My trusty guide, who now<br/> +Stood near his breast, where the two natures join,<br/> +Thus made reply: “He is indeed alive,<br/> +And solitary so must needs by me<br/> +Be shown the gloomy vale, thereto induc’d<br/> +By strict necessity, not by delight.<br/> +She left her joyful harpings in the sky,<br/> +Who this new office to my care consign’d.<br/> +He is no robber, no dark spirit I.<br/> +But by that virtue, which empowers my step<br/> +To treat so wild a path, grant us, I pray,<br/> +One of thy band, whom we may trust secure,<br/> +Who to the ford may lead us, and convey<br/> +Across, him mounted on his back; for he<br/> +Is not a spirit that may walk the air.” +</p> + +<p> +Then on his right breast turning, Chiron thus<br/> +To Nessus spake: “Return, and be their guide.<br/> +And if ye chance to cross another troop,<br/> +Command them keep aloof.” Onward we mov’d,<br/> +The faithful escort by our side, along<br/> +The border of the crimson-seething flood,<br/> +Whence from those steep’d within loud shrieks arose. +</p> + +<p> +Some there I mark’d, as high as to their brow<br/> +Immers’d, of whom the mighty Centaur thus:<br/> +“These are the souls of tyrants, who were given<br/> +To blood and rapine. Here they wail aloud<br/> +Their merciless wrongs. Here Alexander dwells,<br/> +And Dionysius fell, who many a year<br/> +Of woe wrought for fair Sicily. That brow<br/> +Whereon the hair so jetty clust’ring hangs,<br/> +Is Azzolino; that with flaxen locks<br/> +Obizzo’ of Este, in the world destroy’d<br/> +By his foul step-son.” To the bard rever’d<br/> +I turned me round, and thus he spake; “Let him<br/> +Be to thee now first leader, me but next<br/> +To him in rank.” Then farther on a space<br/> +The Centaur paus’d, near some, who at the throat<br/> +Were extant from the wave; and showing us<br/> +A spirit by itself apart retir’d,<br/> +Exclaim’d: “He in God’s bosom smote the heart,<br/> +Which yet is honour’d on the bank of Thames.” +</p> + +<p> +A race I next espied, who held the head,<br/> +And even all the bust above the stream.<br/> +’Midst these I many a face remember’d well.<br/> +Thus shallow more and more the blood became,<br/> +So that at last it but imbru’d the feet;<br/> +And there our passage lay athwart the foss. +</p> + +<p> +“As ever on this side the boiling wave<br/> +Thou seest diminishing,” the Centaur said,<br/> +“So on the other, be thou well assur’d,<br/> +It lower still and lower sinks its bed,<br/> +Till in that part it reuniting join,<br/> +Where ’t is the lot of tyranny to mourn.<br/> +There Heav’n’s stern justice lays chastising hand<br/> +On Attila, who was the scourge of earth,<br/> +On Sextus, and on Pyrrhus, and extracts<br/> +Tears ever by the seething flood unlock’d<br/> +From the Rinieri, of Corneto this,<br/> +Pazzo the other nam’d, who fill’d the ways<br/> +With violence and war.” This said, he turn’d,<br/> +And quitting us, alone repass’d the ford. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XIII"></a>CANTO XIII</h2> + +<p> +Ere Nessus yet had reach’d the other bank,<br/> +We enter’d on a forest, where no track<br/> +Of steps had worn a way. Not verdant there<br/> +The foliage, but of dusky hue; not light<br/> +The boughs and tapering, but with knares deform’d<br/> +And matted thick: fruits there were none, but thorns<br/> +Instead, with venom fill’d. Less sharp than these,<br/> +Less intricate the brakes, wherein abide<br/> +Those animals, that hate the cultur’d fields,<br/> +Betwixt Corneto and Cecina’s stream. +</p> + +<p> +Here the brute Harpies make their nest, the same<br/> +Who from the Strophades the Trojan band<br/> +Drove with dire boding of their future woe.<br/> +Broad are their pennons, of the human form<br/> +Their neck and count’nance, arm’d with talons keen<br/> +The feet, and the huge belly fledge with wings<br/> +These sit and wail on the drear mystic wood. +</p> + +<p> +The kind instructor in these words began:<br/> +“Ere farther thou proceed, know thou art now<br/> +I’ th’ second round, and shalt be, till thou come<br/> +Upon the horrid sand: look therefore well<br/> +Around thee, and such things thou shalt behold,<br/> +As would my speech discredit.” On all sides<br/> +I heard sad plainings breathe, and none could see<br/> +From whom they might have issu’d. In amaze<br/> +Fast bound I stood. He, as it seem’d, believ’d,<br/> +That I had thought so many voices came<br/> +From some amid those thickets close conceal’d,<br/> +And thus his speech resum’d: “If thou lop off<br/> +A single twig from one of those ill plants,<br/> +The thought thou hast conceiv’d shall vanish quite.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereat a little stretching forth my hand,<br/> +From a great wilding gather’d I a branch,<br/> +And straight the trunk exclaim’d: “Why pluck’st thou me?” +</p> + +<p> +Then as the dark blood trickled down its side,<br/> +These words it added: “Wherefore tear’st me thus?<br/> +Is there no touch of mercy in thy breast?<br/> +Men once were we, that now are rooted here.<br/> +Thy hand might well have spar’d us, had we been<br/> +The souls of serpents.” As a brand yet green,<br/> +That burning at one end from the’ other sends<br/> +A groaning sound, and hisses with the wind<br/> +That forces out its way, so burst at once,<br/> +Forth from the broken splinter words and blood. +</p> + +<p> +I, letting fall the bough, remain’d as one<br/> +Assail’d by terror, and the sage replied:<br/> +“If he, O injur’d spirit! could have believ’d<br/> +What he hath seen but in my verse describ’d,<br/> +He never against thee had stretch’d his hand.<br/> +But I, because the thing surpass’d belief,<br/> +Prompted him to this deed, which even now<br/> +Myself I rue. But tell me, who thou wast;<br/> +That, for this wrong to do thee some amends,<br/> +In the upper world (for thither to return<br/> +Is granted him) thy fame he may revive.” +</p> + +<p> +“That pleasant word of thine,” the trunk replied<br/> +“Hath so inveigled me, that I from speech<br/> +Cannot refrain, wherein if I indulge<br/> +A little longer, in the snare detain’d,<br/> +Count it not grievous. I it was, who held<br/> +Both keys to Frederick’s heart, and turn’d the wards,<br/> +Opening and shutting, with a skill so sweet,<br/> +That besides me, into his inmost breast<br/> +Scarce any other could admittance find.<br/> +The faith I bore to my high charge was such,<br/> +It cost me the life-blood that warm’d my veins.<br/> +The harlot, who ne’er turn’d her gloating eyes<br/> +From Caesar’s household, common vice and pest<br/> +Of courts, ’gainst me inflam’d the minds of all;<br/> +And to Augustus they so spread the flame,<br/> +That my glad honours chang’d to bitter woes.<br/> +My soul, disdainful and disgusted, sought<br/> +Refuge in death from scorn, and I became,<br/> +Just as I was, unjust toward myself.<br/> +By the new roots, which fix this stem, I swear,<br/> +That never faith I broke to my liege lord,<br/> +Who merited such honour; and of you,<br/> +If any to the world indeed return,<br/> +Clear he from wrong my memory, that lies<br/> +Yet prostrate under envy’s cruel blow.” +</p> + +<p> +First somewhat pausing, till the mournful words<br/> +Were ended, then to me the bard began:<br/> +“Lose not the time; but speak and of him ask,<br/> +If more thou wish to learn.” Whence I replied:<br/> +“Question thou him again of whatsoe’er<br/> +Will, as thou think’st, content me; for no power<br/> +Have I to ask, such pity’ is at my heart.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus resum’d; “So may he do for thee<br/> +Freely what thou entreatest, as thou yet<br/> +Be pleas’d, imprison’d Spirit! to declare,<br/> +How in these gnarled joints the soul is tied;<br/> +And whether any ever from such frame<br/> +Be loosen’d, if thou canst, that also tell.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereat the trunk breath’d hard, and the wind soon<br/> +Chang’d into sounds articulate like these; +</p> + +<p> +“Briefly ye shall be answer’d. When departs<br/> +The fierce soul from the body, by itself<br/> +Thence torn asunder, to the seventh gulf<br/> +By Minos doom’d, into the wood it falls,<br/> +No place assign’d, but wheresoever chance<br/> +Hurls it, there sprouting, as a grain of spelt,<br/> +It rises to a sapling, growing thence<br/> +A savage plant. The Harpies, on its leaves<br/> +Then feeding, cause both pain and for the pain<br/> +A vent to grief. We, as the rest, shall come<br/> +For our own spoils, yet not so that with them<br/> +We may again be clad; for what a man<br/> +Takes from himself it is not just he have.<br/> +Here we perforce shall drag them; and throughout<br/> +The dismal glade our bodies shall be hung,<br/> +Each on the wild thorn of his wretched shade.” +</p> + +<p> +Attentive yet to listen to the trunk<br/> +We stood, expecting farther speech, when us<br/> +A noise surpris’d, as when a man perceives<br/> +The wild boar and the hunt approach his place<br/> +Of station’d watch, who of the beasts and boughs<br/> +Loud rustling round him hears. And lo! there came<br/> +Two naked, torn with briers, in headlong flight,<br/> +That they before them broke each fan o’ th’ wood.<br/> +“Haste now,” the foremost cried, “now haste thee death!” +</p> + +<p> +The’ other, as seem’d, impatient of delay<br/> +Exclaiming, “Lano! not so bent for speed<br/> +Thy sinews, in the lists of Toppo’s field.”<br/> +And then, for that perchance no longer breath<br/> +Suffic’d him, of himself and of a bush<br/> +One group he made. Behind them was the wood<br/> +Full of black female mastiffs, gaunt and fleet,<br/> +As greyhounds that have newly slipp’d the leash.<br/> +On him, who squatted down, they stuck their fangs,<br/> +And having rent him piecemeal bore away<br/> +The tortur’d limbs. My guide then seiz’d my hand,<br/> +And led me to the thicket, which in vain<br/> +Mourn’d through its bleeding wounds: “O Giacomo<br/> +Of Sant’ Andrea! what avails it thee,”<br/> +It cried, “that of me thou hast made thy screen?<br/> +For thy ill life what blame on me recoils?” +</p> + +<p> +When o’er it he had paus’d, my master spake:<br/> +“Say who wast thou, that at so many points<br/> +Breath’st out with blood thy lamentable speech?” +</p> + +<p> +He answer’d: “Oh, ye spirits: arriv’d in time<br/> +To spy the shameful havoc, that from me<br/> +My leaves hath sever’d thus, gather them up,<br/> +And at the foot of their sad parent-tree<br/> +Carefully lay them. In that city’ I dwelt,<br/> +Who for the Baptist her first patron chang’d,<br/> +Whence he for this shall cease not with his art<br/> +To work her woe: and if there still remain’d not<br/> +On Arno’s passage some faint glimpse of him,<br/> +Those citizens, who rear’d once more her walls<br/> +Upon the ashes left by Attila,<br/> +Had labour’d without profit of their toil.<br/> +I slung the fatal noose from my own roof.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XIV"></a>CANTO XIV</h2> + +<p> +Soon as the charity of native land<br/> +Wrought in my bosom, I the scatter’d leaves<br/> +Collected, and to him restor’d, who now<br/> +Was hoarse with utt’rance. To the limit thence<br/> +We came, which from the third the second round<br/> +Divides, and where of justice is display’d<br/> +Contrivance horrible. Things then first seen<br/> +Clearlier to manifest, I tell how next<br/> +A plain we reach’d, that from its sterile bed<br/> +Each plant repell’d. The mournful wood waves round<br/> +Its garland on all sides, as round the wood<br/> +Spreads the sad foss. There, on the very edge,<br/> +Our steps we stay’d. It was an area wide<br/> +Of arid sand and thick, resembling most<br/> +The soil that erst by Cato’s foot was trod. +</p> + +<p> +Vengeance of Heav’n! Oh! how shouldst thou be fear’d<br/> +By all, who read what here my eyes beheld! +</p> + +<p> +Of naked spirits many a flock I saw,<br/> +All weeping piteously, to different laws<br/> +Subjected: for on the’ earth some lay supine,<br/> +Some crouching close were seated, others pac’d<br/> +Incessantly around; the latter tribe,<br/> +More numerous, those fewer who beneath<br/> +The torment lay, but louder in their grief. +</p> + +<p> +O’er all the sand fell slowly wafting down<br/> +Dilated flakes of fire, as flakes of snow<br/> +On Alpine summit, when the wind is hush’d.<br/> +As in the torrid Indian clime, the son<br/> +Of Ammon saw upon his warrior band<br/> +Descending, solid flames, that to the ground<br/> +Came down: whence he bethought him with his troop<br/> +To trample on the soil; for easier thus<br/> +The vapour was extinguish’d, while alone;<br/> +So fell the eternal fiery flood, wherewith<br/> +The marble glow’d underneath, as under stove<br/> +The viands, doubly to augment the pain. +</p> + +<p> +Unceasing was the play of wretched hands,<br/> +Now this, now that way glancing, to shake off<br/> +The heat, still falling fresh. I thus began:<br/> +“Instructor! thou who all things overcom’st,<br/> +Except the hardy demons, that rush’d forth<br/> +To stop our entrance at the gate, say who<br/> +Is yon huge spirit, that, as seems, heeds not<br/> +The burning, but lies writhen in proud scorn,<br/> +As by the sultry tempest immatur’d?” +</p> + +<p> +Straight he himself, who was aware I ask’d<br/> +My guide of him, exclaim’d: “Such as I was<br/> +When living, dead such now I am. If Jove<br/> +Weary his workman out, from whom in ire<br/> +He snatch’d the lightnings, that at my last day<br/> +Transfix’d me, if the rest be weary out<br/> +At their black smithy labouring by turns<br/> +In Mongibello, while he cries aloud;<br/> +“Help, help, good Mulciber!” as erst he cried<br/> +In the Phlegraean warfare, and the bolts<br/> +Launch he full aim’d at me with all his might,<br/> +He never should enjoy a sweet revenge.” +</p> + +<p> +Then thus my guide, in accent higher rais’d<br/> +Than I before had heard him: “Capaneus!<br/> +Thou art more punish’d, in that this thy pride<br/> +Lives yet unquench’d: no torrent, save thy rage,<br/> +Were to thy fury pain proportion’d full.” +</p> + +<p> +Next turning round to me with milder lip<br/> +He spake: “This of the seven kings was one,<br/> +Who girt the Theban walls with siege, and held,<br/> +As still he seems to hold, God in disdain,<br/> +And sets his high omnipotence at nought.<br/> +But, as I told him, his despiteful mood<br/> +Is ornament well suits the breast that wears it.<br/> +Follow me now; and look thou set not yet<br/> +Thy foot in the hot sand, but to the wood<br/> +Keep ever close.” Silently on we pass’d<br/> +To where there gushes from the forest’s bound<br/> +A little brook, whose crimson’d wave yet lifts<br/> +My hair with horror. As the rill, that runs<br/> +From Bulicame, to be portion’d out<br/> +Among the sinful women; so ran this<br/> +Down through the sand, its bottom and each bank<br/> +Stone-built, and either margin at its side,<br/> +Whereon I straight perceiv’d our passage lay. +</p> + +<p> +“Of all that I have shown thee, since that gate<br/> +We enter’d first, whose threshold is to none<br/> +Denied, nought else so worthy of regard,<br/> +As is this river, has thine eye discern’d,<br/> +O’er which the flaming volley all is quench’d.” +</p> + +<p> +So spake my guide; and I him thence besought,<br/> +That having giv’n me appetite to know,<br/> +The food he too would give, that hunger crav’d. +</p> + +<p> +“In midst of ocean,” forthwith he began,<br/> +“A desolate country lies, which Crete is nam’d,<br/> +Under whose monarch in old times the world<br/> +Liv’d pure and chaste. A mountain rises there,<br/> +Call’d Ida, joyous once with leaves and streams,<br/> +Deserted now like a forbidden thing.<br/> +It was the spot which Rhea, Saturn’s spouse,<br/> +Chose for the secret cradle of her son;<br/> +And better to conceal him, drown’d in shouts<br/> +His infant cries. Within the mount, upright<br/> +An ancient form there stands and huge, that turns<br/> +His shoulders towards Damiata, and at Rome<br/> +As in his mirror looks. Of finest gold<br/> +His head is shap’d, pure silver are the breast<br/> +And arms; thence to the middle is of brass.<br/> +And downward all beneath well-temper’d steel,<br/> +Save the right foot of potter’s clay, on which<br/> +Than on the other more erect he stands,<br/> +Each part except the gold, is rent throughout;<br/> +And from the fissure tears distil, which join’d<br/> +Penetrate to that cave. They in their course<br/> +Thus far precipitated down the rock<br/> +Form Acheron, and Styx, and Phlegethon;<br/> +Then by this straiten’d channel passing hence<br/> +Beneath, e’en to the lowest depth of all,<br/> +Form there Cocytus, of whose lake (thyself<br/> +Shall see it) I here give thee no account.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I to him: “If from our world this sluice<br/> +Be thus deriv’d; wherefore to us but now<br/> +Appears it at this edge?” He straight replied:<br/> +“The place, thou know’st, is round; and though great part<br/> +Thou have already pass’d, still to the left<br/> +Descending to the nethermost, not yet<br/> +Hast thou the circuit made of the whole orb.<br/> +Wherefore if aught of new to us appear,<br/> +It needs not bring up wonder in thy looks.” +</p> + +<p> +Then I again inquir’d: “Where flow the streams<br/> +Of Phlegethon and Lethe? for of one<br/> +Thou tell’st not, and the other of that shower,<br/> +Thou say’st, is form’d.” He answer thus return’d:<br/> +“Doubtless thy questions all well pleas’d I hear.<br/> +Yet the red seething wave might have resolv’d<br/> +One thou proposest. Lethe thou shalt see,<br/> +But not within this hollow, in the place,<br/> +Whither to lave themselves the spirits go,<br/> +Whose blame hath been by penitence remov’d.”<br/> +He added: “Time is now we quit the wood.<br/> +Look thou my steps pursue: the margins give<br/> +Safe passage, unimpeded by the flames;<br/> +For over them all vapour is extinct.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XV"></a>CANTO XV</h2> + +<p> +One of the solid margins bears us now<br/> +Envelop’d in the mist, that from the stream<br/> +Arising, hovers o’er, and saves from fire<br/> +Both piers and water. As the Flemings rear<br/> +Their mound, ’twixt Ghent and Bruges, to chase back<br/> +The ocean, fearing his tumultuous tide<br/> +That drives toward them, or the Paduans theirs<br/> +Along the Brenta, to defend their towns<br/> +And castles, ere the genial warmth be felt<br/> +On Chiarentana’s top; such were the mounds,<br/> +So fram’d, though not in height or bulk to these<br/> +Made equal, by the master, whosoe’er<br/> +He was, that rais’d them here. We from the wood<br/> +Were not so far remov’d, that turning round<br/> +I might not have discern’d it, when we met<br/> +A troop of spirits, who came beside the pier. +</p> + +<p> +They each one ey’d us, as at eventide<br/> +One eyes another under a new moon,<br/> +And toward us sharpen’d their sight as keen,<br/> +As an old tailor at his needle’s eye. +</p> + +<p> +Thus narrowly explor’d by all the tribe,<br/> +I was agniz’d of one, who by the skirt<br/> +Caught me, and cried, “What wonder have we here!” +</p> + +<p> +And I, when he to me outstretch’d his arm,<br/> +Intently fix’d my ken on his parch’d looks,<br/> +That although smirch’d with fire, they hinder’d not<br/> +But I remember’d him; and towards his face<br/> +My hand inclining, answer’d: “Sir! Brunetto! +</p> + +<p> +“And art thou here?” He thus to me: “My son!<br/> +Oh let it not displease thee, if Brunetto<br/> +Latini but a little space with thee<br/> +Turn back, and leave his fellows to proceed.” +</p> + +<p> +I thus to him replied: “Much as I can,<br/> +I thereto pray thee; and if thou be willing,<br/> +That I here seat me with thee, I consent;<br/> +His leave, with whom I journey, first obtain’d.” +</p> + +<p> +“O son!” said he, “whoever of this throng<br/> +One instant stops, lies then a hundred years,<br/> +No fan to ventilate him, when the fire<br/> +Smites sorest. Pass thou therefore on. I close<br/> +Will at thy garments walk, and then rejoin<br/> +My troop, who go mourning their endless doom.” +</p> + +<p> +I dar’d not from the path descend to tread<br/> +On equal ground with him, but held my head<br/> +Bent down, as one who walks in reverent guise. +</p> + +<p> +“What chance or destiny,” thus he began,<br/> +“Ere the last day conducts thee here below?<br/> +And who is this, that shows to thee the way?” +</p> + +<p> +“There up aloft,” I answer’d, “in the life<br/> +Serene, I wander’d in a valley lost,<br/> +Before mine age had to its fullness reach’d.<br/> +But yester-morn I left it: then once more<br/> +Into that vale returning, him I met;<br/> +And by this path homeward he leads me back.” +</p> + +<p> +“If thou,” he answer’d, “follow but thy star,<br/> +Thou canst not miss at last a glorious haven:<br/> +Unless in fairer days my judgment err’d.<br/> +And if my fate so early had not chanc’d,<br/> +Seeing the heav’ns thus bounteous to thee, I<br/> +Had gladly giv’n thee comfort in thy work.<br/> +But that ungrateful and malignant race,<br/> +Who in old times came down from Fesole,<br/> +Ay and still smack of their rough mountain-flint,<br/> +Will for thy good deeds shew thee enmity.<br/> +Nor wonder; for amongst ill-savour’d crabs<br/> +It suits not the sweet fig-tree lay her fruit.<br/> +Old fame reports them in the world for blind,<br/> +Covetous, envious, proud. Look to it well:<br/> +Take heed thou cleanse thee of their ways. For thee<br/> +Thy fortune hath such honour in reserve,<br/> +That thou by either party shalt be crav’d<br/> +With hunger keen: but be the fresh herb far<br/> +From the goat’s tooth. The herd of Fesole<br/> +May of themselves make litter, not touch the plant,<br/> +If any such yet spring on their rank bed,<br/> +In which the holy seed revives, transmitted<br/> +From those true Romans, who still there remain’d,<br/> +When it was made the nest of so much ill.” +</p> + +<p> +“Were all my wish fulfill’d,” I straight replied,<br/> +“Thou from the confines of man’s nature yet<br/> +Hadst not been driven forth; for in my mind<br/> +Is fix’d, and now strikes full upon my heart<br/> +The dear, benign, paternal image, such<br/> +As thine was, when so lately thou didst teach me<br/> +The way for man to win eternity;<br/> +And how I priz’d the lesson, it behooves,<br/> +That, long as life endures, my tongue should speak,<br/> +What of my fate thou tell’st, that write I down:<br/> +And with another text to comment on<br/> +For her I keep it, the celestial dame,<br/> +Who will know all, if I to her arrive.<br/> +This only would I have thee clearly note:<br/> +That so my conscience have no plea against me;<br/> +Do fortune as she list, I stand prepar’d.<br/> +Not new or strange such earnest to mine ear.<br/> +Speed fortune then her wheel, as likes her best,<br/> +The clown his mattock; all things have their course.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereat my sapient guide upon his right<br/> +Turn’d himself back, then look’d at me and spake:<br/> +“He listens to good purpose who takes note.” +</p> + +<p> +I not the less still on my way proceed,<br/> +Discoursing with Brunetto, and inquire<br/> +Who are most known and chief among his tribe. +</p> + +<p> +“To know of some is well;” thus he replied,<br/> +“But of the rest silence may best beseem.<br/> +Time would not serve us for report so long.<br/> +In brief I tell thee, that all these were clerks,<br/> +Men of great learning and no less renown,<br/> +By one same sin polluted in the world.<br/> +With them is Priscian, and Accorso’s son<br/> +Francesco herds among that wretched throng:<br/> +And, if the wish of so impure a blotch<br/> +Possess’d thee, him thou also might’st have seen,<br/> +Who by the servants’ servant was transferr’d<br/> +From Arno’s seat to Bacchiglione, where<br/> +His ill-strain’d nerves he left. I more would add,<br/> +But must from farther speech and onward way<br/> +Alike desist, for yonder I behold<br/> +A mist new-risen on the sandy plain.<br/> +A company, with whom I may not sort,<br/> +Approaches. I commend my TREASURE to thee,<br/> +Wherein I yet survive; my sole request.” +</p> + +<p> +This said he turn’d, and seem’d as one of those,<br/> +Who o’er Verona’s champain try their speed<br/> +For the green mantle, and of them he seem’d,<br/> +Not he who loses but who gains the prize. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XVI"></a>CANTO XVI</h2> + +<p> +Now came I where the water’s din was heard,<br/> +As down it fell into the other round,<br/> +Resounding like the hum of swarming bees:<br/> +When forth together issu’d from a troop,<br/> +That pass’d beneath the fierce tormenting storm,<br/> +Three spirits, running swift. They towards us came,<br/> +And each one cried aloud, “Oh do thou stay!<br/> +Whom by the fashion of thy garb we deem<br/> +To be some inmate of our evil land.” +</p> + +<p> +Ah me! what wounds I mark’d upon their limbs,<br/> +Recent and old, inflicted by the flames!<br/> +E’en the remembrance of them grieves me yet. +</p> + +<p> +Attentive to their cry my teacher paus’d,<br/> +And turn’d to me his visage, and then spake;<br/> +“Wait now! our courtesy these merit well:<br/> +And were ’t not for the nature of the place,<br/> +Whence glide the fiery darts, I should have said,<br/> +That haste had better suited thee than them.” +</p> + +<p> +They, when we stopp’d, resum’d their ancient wail,<br/> +And soon as they had reach’d us, all the three<br/> +Whirl’d round together in one restless wheel.<br/> +As naked champions, smear’d with slippery oil,<br/> +Are wont intent to watch their place of hold<br/> +And vantage, ere in closer strife they meet;<br/> +Thus each one, as he wheel’d, his countenance<br/> +At me directed, so that opposite<br/> +The neck mov’d ever to the twinkling feet. +</p> + +<p> +“If misery of this drear wilderness,”<br/> +Thus one began, “added to our sad cheer<br/> +And destitute, do call forth scorn on us<br/> +And our entreaties, let our great renown<br/> +Incline thee to inform us who thou art,<br/> +That dost imprint with living feet unharm’d<br/> +The soil of Hell. He, in whose track thou see’st<br/> +My steps pursuing, naked though he be<br/> +And reft of all, was of more high estate<br/> +Than thou believest; grandchild of the chaste<br/> +Gualdrada, him they Guidoguerra call’d,<br/> +Who in his lifetime many a noble act<br/> +Achiev’d, both by his wisdom and his sword.<br/> +The other, next to me that beats the sand,<br/> +Is Aldobrandi, name deserving well,<br/> +In the’ upper world, of honour; and myself<br/> +Who in this torment do partake with them,<br/> +Am Rusticucci, whom, past doubt, my wife<br/> +Of savage temper, more than aught beside<br/> +Hath to this evil brought.” If from the fire<br/> +I had been shelter’d, down amidst them straight<br/> +I then had cast me, nor my guide, I deem,<br/> +Would have restrain’d my going; but that fear<br/> +Of the dire burning vanquish’d the desire,<br/> +Which made me eager of their wish’d embrace. +</p> + +<p> +I then began: “Not scorn, but grief much more,<br/> +Such as long time alone can cure, your doom<br/> +Fix’d deep within me, soon as this my lord<br/> +Spake words, whose tenour taught me to expect<br/> +That such a race, as ye are, was at hand.<br/> +I am a countryman of yours, who still<br/> +Affectionate have utter’d, and have heard<br/> +Your deeds and names renown’d. Leaving the gall<br/> +For the sweet fruit I go, that a sure guide<br/> +Hath promis’d to me. But behooves, that far<br/> +As to the centre first I downward tend.” +</p> + +<p> +“So may long space thy spirit guide thy limbs,”<br/> +He answer straight return’d; “and so thy fame<br/> +Shine bright, when thou art gone; as thou shalt tell,<br/> +If courtesy and valour, as they wont,<br/> +Dwell in our city, or have vanish’d clean?<br/> +For one amidst us late condemn’d to wail,<br/> +Borsiere, yonder walking with his peers,<br/> +Grieves us no little by the news he brings.” +</p> + +<p> +“An upstart multitude and sudden gains,<br/> +Pride and excess, O Florence! have in thee<br/> +Engender’d, so that now in tears thou mourn’st!”<br/> +Thus cried I with my face uprais’d, and they<br/> +All three, who for an answer took my words,<br/> +Look’d at each other, as men look when truth<br/> +Comes to their ear. “If thou at other times,”<br/> +They all at once rejoin’d, “so easily<br/> +Satisfy those, who question, happy thou,<br/> +Gifted with words, so apt to speak thy thought!<br/> +Wherefore if thou escape this darksome clime,<br/> +Returning to behold the radiant stars,<br/> +When thou with pleasure shalt retrace the past,<br/> +See that of us thou speak among mankind.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, they broke the circle, and so swift<br/> +Fled, that as pinions seem’d their nimble feet. +</p> + +<p> +Not in so short a time might one have said<br/> +“Amen,” as they had vanish’d. Straight my guide<br/> +Pursu’d his track. I follow’d; and small space<br/> +Had we pass’d onward, when the water’s sound<br/> +Was now so near at hand, that we had scarce<br/> +Heard one another’s speech for the loud din. +</p> + +<p> +E’en as the river, that holds on its course<br/> +Unmingled, from the mount of Vesulo,<br/> +On the left side of Apennine, toward<br/> +The east, which Acquacheta higher up<br/> +They call, ere it descend into the vale,<br/> +At Forli by that name no longer known,<br/> +Rebellows o’er Saint Benedict, roll’d on<br/> +From the’ Alpine summit down a precipice,<br/> +Where space enough to lodge a thousand spreads;<br/> +Thus downward from a craggy steep we found,<br/> +That this dark wave resounded, roaring loud,<br/> +So that the ear its clamour soon had stunn’d. +</p> + +<p> +I had a cord that brac’d my girdle round,<br/> +Wherewith I erst had thought fast bound to take<br/> +The painted leopard. This when I had all<br/> +Unloosen’d from me (so my master bade)<br/> +I gather’d up, and stretch’d it forth to him.<br/> +Then to the right he turn’d, and from the brink<br/> +Standing few paces distant, cast it down<br/> +Into the deep abyss. “And somewhat strange,”<br/> +Thus to myself I spake, “signal so strange<br/> +Betokens, which my guide with earnest eye<br/> +Thus follows.” Ah! what caution must men use<br/> +With those who look not at the deed alone,<br/> +But spy into the thoughts with subtle skill! +</p> + +<p> +“Quickly shall come,” he said, “what I expect,<br/> +Thine eye discover quickly, that whereof<br/> +Thy thought is dreaming.” Ever to that truth,<br/> +Which but the semblance of a falsehood wears,<br/> +A man, if possible, should bar his lip;<br/> +Since, although blameless, he incurs reproach.<br/> +But silence here were vain; and by these notes<br/> +Which now I sing, reader! I swear to thee,<br/> +So may they favour find to latest times!<br/> +That through the gross and murky air I spied<br/> +A shape come swimming up, that might have quell’d<br/> +The stoutest heart with wonder, in such guise<br/> +As one returns, who hath been down to loose<br/> +An anchor grappled fast against some rock,<br/> +Or to aught else that in the salt wave lies,<br/> +Who upward springing close draws in his feet. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XVII"></a>CANTO XVII</h2> + +<p> +“Lo! the fell monster with the deadly sting!<br/> +Who passes mountains, breaks through fenced walls<br/> +And firm embattled spears, and with his filth<br/> +Taints all the world!” Thus me my guide address’d,<br/> +And beckon’d him, that he should come to shore,<br/> +Near to the stony causeway’s utmost edge. +</p> + +<p> +Forthwith that image vile of fraud appear’d,<br/> +His head and upper part expos’d on land,<br/> +But laid not on the shore his bestial train.<br/> +His face the semblance of a just man’s wore,<br/> +So kind and gracious was its outward cheer;<br/> +The rest was serpent all: two shaggy claws<br/> +Reach’d to the armpits, and the back and breast,<br/> +And either side, were painted o’er with nodes<br/> +And orbits. Colours variegated more<br/> +Nor Turks nor Tartars e’er on cloth of state<br/> +With interchangeable embroidery wove,<br/> +Nor spread Arachne o’er her curious loom.<br/> +As ofttimes a light skiff, moor’d to the shore,<br/> +Stands part in water, part upon the land;<br/> +Or, as where dwells the greedy German boor,<br/> +The beaver settles watching for his prey;<br/> +So on the rim, that fenc’d the sand with rock,<br/> +Sat perch’d the fiend of evil. In the void<br/> +Glancing, his tail upturn’d its venomous fork,<br/> +With sting like scorpion’s arm’d. Then thus my guide:<br/> +“Now need our way must turn few steps apart,<br/> +Far as to that ill beast, who couches there.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereat toward the right our downward course<br/> +We shap’d, and, better to escape the flame<br/> +And burning marle, ten paces on the verge<br/> +Proceeded. Soon as we to him arrive,<br/> +A little further on mine eye beholds<br/> +A tribe of spirits, seated on the sand<br/> +Near the wide chasm. Forthwith my master spake:<br/> +“That to the full thy knowledge may extend<br/> +Of all this round contains, go now, and mark<br/> +The mien these wear: but hold not long discourse.<br/> +Till thou returnest, I with him meantime<br/> +Will parley, that to us he may vouchsafe<br/> +The aid of his strong shoulders.” Thus alone<br/> +Yet forward on the’ extremity I pac’d<br/> +Of that seventh circle, where the mournful tribe<br/> +Were seated. At the eyes forth gush’d their pangs.<br/> +Against the vapours and the torrid soil<br/> +Alternately their shifting hands they plied.<br/> +Thus use the dogs in summer still to ply<br/> +Their jaws and feet by turns, when bitten sore<br/> +By gnats, or flies, or gadflies swarming round. +</p> + +<p> +Noting the visages of some, who lay<br/> +Beneath the pelting of that dolorous fire,<br/> +One of them all I knew not; but perceiv’d,<br/> +That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch<br/> +With colours and with emblems various mark’d,<br/> +On which it seem’d as if their eye did feed. +</p> + +<p> +And when amongst them looking round I came,<br/> +A yellow purse I saw with azure wrought,<br/> +That wore a lion’s countenance and port.<br/> +Then still my sight pursuing its career,<br/> +Another I beheld, than blood more red.<br/> +A goose display of whiter wing than curd.<br/> +And one, who bore a fat and azure swine<br/> +Pictur’d on his white scrip, addressed me thus:<br/> +“What dost thou in this deep? Go now and know,<br/> +Since yet thou livest, that my neighbour here<br/> +Vitaliano on my left shall sit.<br/> +A Paduan with these Florentines am I.<br/> +Ofttimes they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming<br/> +‘O haste that noble knight! he who the pouch<br/> +With the three beaks will bring!’” This said, he writh’d<br/> +The mouth, and loll’d the tongue out, like an ox<br/> +That licks his nostrils. I, lest longer stay<br/> +He ill might brook, who bade me stay not long,<br/> +Backward my steps from those sad spirits turn’d. +</p> + +<p> +My guide already seated on the haunch<br/> +Of the fierce animal I found; and thus<br/> +He me encourag’d. “Be thou stout; be bold.<br/> +Down such a steep flight must we now descend!<br/> +Mount thou before: for that no power the tail<br/> +May have to harm thee, I will be i’ th’ midst.” +</p> + +<p> +As one, who hath an ague fit so near,<br/> +His nails already are turn’d blue, and he<br/> +Quivers all o’er, if he but eye the shade;<br/> +Such was my cheer at hearing of his words.<br/> +But shame soon interpos’d her threat, who makes<br/> +The servant bold in presence of his lord. +</p> + +<p> +I settled me upon those shoulders huge,<br/> +And would have said, but that the words to aid<br/> +My purpose came not, “Look thou clasp me firm!” +</p> + +<p> +But he whose succour then not first I prov’d,<br/> +Soon as I mounted, in his arms aloft,<br/> +Embracing, held me up, and thus he spake:<br/> +“Geryon! now move thee! be thy wheeling gyres<br/> +Of ample circuit, easy thy descent.<br/> +Think on th’ unusual burden thou sustain’st.” +</p> + +<p> +As a small vessel, back’ning out from land,<br/> +Her station quits; so thence the monster loos’d,<br/> +And when he felt himself at large, turn’d round<br/> +There where the breast had been, his forked tail.<br/> +Thus, like an eel, outstretch’d at length he steer’d,<br/> +Gath’ring the air up with retractile claws. +</p> + +<p> +Not greater was the dread when Phaeton<br/> +The reins let drop at random, whence high heaven,<br/> +Whereof signs yet appear, was wrapt in flames;<br/> +Nor when ill-fated Icarus perceiv’d,<br/> +By liquefaction of the scalded wax,<br/> +The trusted pennons loosen’d from his loins,<br/> +His sire exclaiming loud, “Ill way thou keep’st!”<br/> +Than was my dread, when round me on each part<br/> +The air I view’d, and other object none<br/> +Save the fell beast. He slowly sailing, wheels<br/> +His downward motion, unobserv’d of me,<br/> +But that the wind, arising to my face,<br/> +Breathes on me from below. Now on our right<br/> +I heard the cataract beneath us leap<br/> +With hideous crash; whence bending down to’ explore,<br/> +New terror I conceiv’d at the steep plunge: +</p> + +<p> +For flames I saw, and wailings smote mine ear:<br/> +So that all trembling close I crouch’d my limbs,<br/> +And then distinguish’d, unperceiv’d before,<br/> +By the dread torments that on every side<br/> +Drew nearer, how our downward course we wound. +</p> + +<p> +As falcon, that hath long been on the wing,<br/> +But lure nor bird hath seen, while in despair<br/> +The falconer cries, “Ah me! thou stoop’st to earth!”<br/> +Wearied descends, and swiftly down the sky<br/> +In many an orbit wheels, then lighting sits<br/> +At distance from his lord in angry mood;<br/> +So Geryon lighting places us on foot<br/> +Low down at base of the deep-furrow’d rock,<br/> +And, of his burden there discharg’d, forthwith<br/> +Sprang forward, like an arrow from the string. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XVIII"></a>CANTO XVIII</h2> + +<p> +There is a place within the depths of hell<br/> +Call’d Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain’d<br/> +With hue ferruginous, e’en as the steep<br/> +That round it circling winds. Right in the midst<br/> +Of that abominable region, yawns<br/> +A spacious gulf profound, whereof the frame<br/> +Due time shall tell. The circle, that remains,<br/> +Throughout its round, between the gulf and base<br/> +Of the high craggy banks, successive forms<br/> +Ten trenches, in its hollow bottom sunk. +</p> + +<p> +As where to guard the walls, full many a foss<br/> +Begirds some stately castle, sure defence<br/> +Affording to the space within, so here<br/> +Were model’d these; and as like fortresses<br/> +E’en from their threshold to the brink without,<br/> +Are flank’d with bridges; from the rock’s low base<br/> +Thus flinty paths advanc’d, that ’cross the moles<br/> +And dikes, struck onward far as to the gulf,<br/> +That in one bound collected cuts them off.<br/> +Such was the place, wherein we found ourselves<br/> +From Geryon’s back dislodg’d. The bard to left<br/> +Held on his way, and I behind him mov’d. +</p> + +<p> +On our right hand new misery I saw,<br/> +New pains, new executioners of wrath,<br/> +That swarming peopled the first chasm. Below<br/> +Were naked sinners. Hitherward they came,<br/> +Meeting our faces from the middle point,<br/> +With us beyond but with a larger stride.<br/> +E’en thus the Romans, when the year returns<br/> +Of Jubilee, with better speed to rid<br/> +The thronging multitudes, their means devise<br/> +For such as pass the bridge; that on one side<br/> +All front toward the castle, and approach<br/> +Saint Peter’s fane, on th’ other towards the mount. +</p> + +<p> +Each divers way along the grisly rock,<br/> +Horn’d demons I beheld, with lashes huge,<br/> +That on their back unmercifully smote.<br/> +Ah! how they made them bound at the first stripe! +</p> + +<p> +None for the second waited nor the third. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime as on I pass’d, one met my sight<br/> +Whom soon as view’d; “Of him,” cried I, “not yet<br/> +Mine eye hath had his fill.” With fixed gaze<br/> +I therefore scann’d him. Straight the teacher kind<br/> +Paus’d with me, and consented I should walk<br/> +Backward a space, and the tormented spirit,<br/> +Who thought to hide him, bent his visage down.<br/> +But it avail’d him nought; for I exclaim’d:<br/> +“Thou who dost cast thy eye upon the ground,<br/> +Unless thy features do belie thee much,<br/> +Venedico art thou. But what brings thee<br/> +Into this bitter seas’ning?” He replied:<br/> +“Unwillingly I answer to thy words.<br/> +But thy clear speech, that to my mind recalls<br/> +The world I once inhabited, constrains me.<br/> +Know then ’twas I who led fair Ghisola<br/> +To do the Marquis’ will, however fame<br/> +The shameful tale have bruited. Nor alone<br/> +Bologna hither sendeth me to mourn<br/> +Rather with us the place is so o’erthrong’d<br/> +That not so many tongues this day are taught,<br/> +Betwixt the Reno and Savena’s stream,<br/> +To answer SIPA in their country’s phrase.<br/> +And if of that securer proof thou need,<br/> +Remember but our craving thirst for gold.” +</p> + +<p> +Him speaking thus, a demon with his thong<br/> +Struck, and exclaim’d, “Away! corrupter! here<br/> +Women are none for sale.” Forthwith I join’d<br/> +My escort, and few paces thence we came<br/> +To where a rock forth issued from the bank.<br/> +That easily ascended, to the right<br/> +Upon its splinter turning, we depart<br/> +From those eternal barriers. When arriv’d,<br/> +Where underneath the gaping arch lets pass<br/> +The scourged souls: “Pause here,” the teacher said,<br/> +“And let these others miserable, now<br/> +Strike on thy ken, faces not yet beheld,<br/> +For that together they with us have walk’d.” +</p> + +<p> +From the old bridge we ey’d the pack, who came<br/> +From th’ other side towards us, like the rest,<br/> +Excoriate from the lash. My gentle guide,<br/> +By me unquestion’d, thus his speech resum’d:<br/> +“Behold that lofty shade, who this way tends,<br/> +And seems too woe-begone to drop a tear.<br/> +How yet the regal aspect he retains!<br/> +Jason is he, whose skill and prowess won<br/> +The ram from Colchos. To the Lemnian isle<br/> +His passage thither led him, when those bold<br/> +And pitiless women had slain all their males.<br/> +There he with tokens and fair witching words<br/> +Hypsipyle beguil’d, a virgin young,<br/> +Who first had all the rest herself beguil’d.<br/> +Impregnated he left her there forlorn.<br/> +Such is the guilt condemns him to this pain.<br/> +Here too Medea’s inj’ries are avenged.<br/> +All bear him company, who like deceit<br/> +To his have practis’d. And thus much to know<br/> +Of the first vale suffice thee, and of those<br/> +Whom its keen torments urge.” Now had we come<br/> +Where, crossing the next pier, the straighten’d path<br/> +Bestrides its shoulders to another arch. +</p> + +<p> +Hence in the second chasm we heard the ghosts,<br/> +Who jibber in low melancholy sounds,<br/> +With wide-stretch’d nostrils snort, and on themselves<br/> +Smite with their palms. Upon the banks a scurf<br/> +From the foul steam condens’d, encrusting hung,<br/> +That held sharp combat with the sight and smell. +</p> + +<p> +So hollow is the depth, that from no part,<br/> +Save on the summit of the rocky span,<br/> +Could I distinguish aught. Thus far we came;<br/> +And thence I saw, within the foss below,<br/> +A crowd immers’d in ordure, that appear’d<br/> +Draff of the human body. There beneath<br/> +Searching with eye inquisitive, I mark’d<br/> +One with his head so grim’d, ’t were hard to deem,<br/> +If he were clerk or layman. Loud he cried:<br/> +“Why greedily thus bendest more on me,<br/> +Than on these other filthy ones, thy ken?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because if true my mem’ry,” I replied,<br/> +“I heretofore have seen thee with dry locks,<br/> +And thou Alessio art of Lucca sprung.<br/> +Therefore than all the rest I scan thee more.” +</p> + +<p> +Then beating on his brain these words he spake:<br/> +“Me thus low down my flatteries have sunk,<br/> +Wherewith I ne’er enough could glut my tongue.” +</p> + +<p> +My leader thus: “A little further stretch<br/> +Thy face, that thou the visage well mayst note<br/> +Of that besotted, sluttish courtezan,<br/> +Who there doth rend her with defiled nails,<br/> +Now crouching down, now risen on her feet. +</p> + +<p> +“Thais is this, the harlot, whose false lip<br/> +Answer’d her doting paramour that ask’d,<br/> +‘Thankest me much!’—‘Say rather wondrously,’<br/> +And seeing this here satiate be our view.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XIX"></a>CANTO XIX</h2> + +<p> +Woe to thee, Simon Magus! woe to you,<br/> +His wretched followers! who the things of God,<br/> +Which should be wedded unto goodness, them,<br/> +Rapacious as ye are, do prostitute<br/> +For gold and silver in adultery!<br/> +Now must the trumpet sound for you, since yours<br/> +Is the third chasm. Upon the following vault<br/> +We now had mounted, where the rock impends<br/> +Directly o’er the centre of the foss. +</p> + +<p> +Wisdom Supreme! how wonderful the art,<br/> +Which thou dost manifest in heaven, in earth,<br/> +And in the evil world, how just a meed<br/> +Allotting by thy virtue unto all! +</p> + +<p> +I saw the livid stone, throughout the sides<br/> +And in its bottom full of apertures,<br/> +All equal in their width, and circular each,<br/> +Nor ample less nor larger they appear’d<br/> +Than in Saint John’s fair dome of me belov’d<br/> +Those fram’d to hold the pure baptismal streams,<br/> +One of the which I brake, some few years past,<br/> +To save a whelming infant; and be this<br/> +A seal to undeceive whoever doubts<br/> +The motive of my deed. From out the mouth<br/> +Of every one, emerg’d a sinner’s feet<br/> +And of the legs high upward as the calf<br/> +The rest beneath was hid. On either foot<br/> +The soles were burning, whence the flexile joints<br/> +Glanc’d with such violent motion, as had snapt<br/> +Asunder cords or twisted withs. As flame,<br/> +Feeding on unctuous matter, glides along<br/> +The surface, scarcely touching where it moves;<br/> +So here, from heel to point, glided the flames. +</p> + +<p> +“Master! say who is he, than all the rest<br/> +Glancing in fiercer agony, on whom<br/> +A ruddier flame doth prey?” I thus inquir’d. +</p> + +<p> +“If thou be willing,” he replied, “that I<br/> +Carry thee down, where least the slope bank falls,<br/> +He of himself shall tell thee and his wrongs.” +</p> + +<p> +I then: “As pleases thee to me is best.<br/> +Thou art my lord; and know’st that ne’er I quit<br/> +Thy will: what silence hides that knowest thou.”<br/> +Thereat on the fourth pier we came, we turn’d,<br/> +And on our left descended to the depth,<br/> +A narrow strait and perforated close.<br/> +Nor from his side my leader set me down,<br/> +Till to his orifice he brought, whose limb<br/> +Quiv’ring express’d his pang. “Whoe’er thou art,<br/> +Sad spirit! thus revers’d, and as a stake<br/> +Driv’n in the soil!” I in these words began,<br/> +“If thou be able, utter forth thy voice.” +</p> + +<p> +There stood I like the friar, that doth shrive<br/> +A wretch for murder doom’d, who e’en when fix’d,<br/> +Calleth him back, whence death awhile delays. +</p> + +<p> +He shouted: “Ha! already standest there?<br/> +Already standest there, O Boniface!<br/> +By many a year the writing play’d me false.<br/> +So early dost thou surfeit with the wealth,<br/> +For which thou fearedst not in guile to take<br/> +The lovely lady, and then mangle her?” +</p> + +<p> +I felt as those who, piercing not the drift<br/> +Of answer made them, stand as if expos’d<br/> +In mockery, nor know what to reply,<br/> +When Virgil thus admonish’d: “Tell him quick,<br/> +I am not he, not he, whom thou believ’st.” +</p> + +<p> +And I, as was enjoin’d me, straight replied. +</p> + +<p> +That heard, the spirit all did wrench his feet,<br/> +And sighing next in woeful accent spake:<br/> +“What then of me requirest? If to know<br/> +So much imports thee, who I am, that thou<br/> +Hast therefore down the bank descended, learn<br/> +That in the mighty mantle I was rob’d,<br/> +And of a she-bear was indeed the son,<br/> +So eager to advance my whelps, that there<br/> +My having in my purse above I stow’d,<br/> +And here myself. Under my head are dragg’d<br/> +The rest, my predecessors in the guilt<br/> +Of simony. Stretch’d at their length they lie<br/> +Along an opening in the rock. ’Midst them<br/> +I also low shall fall, soon as he comes,<br/> +For whom I took thee, when so hastily<br/> +I question’d. But already longer time<br/> +Hath pass’d, since my souls kindled, and I thus<br/> +Upturn’d have stood, than is his doom to stand<br/> +Planted with fiery feet. For after him,<br/> +One yet of deeds more ugly shall arrive,<br/> +From forth the west, a shepherd without law,<br/> +Fated to cover both his form and mine.<br/> +He a new Jason shall be call’d, of whom<br/> +In Maccabees we read; and favour such<br/> +As to that priest his king indulgent show’d,<br/> +Shall be of France’s monarch shown to him.” +</p> + +<p> +I know not if I here too far presum’d,<br/> +But in this strain I answer’d: “Tell me now,<br/> +What treasures from St. Peter at the first<br/> +Our Lord demanded, when he put the keys<br/> +Into his charge? Surely he ask’d no more<br/> +But, Follow me! Nor Peter nor the rest<br/> +Or gold or silver of Matthias took,<br/> +When lots were cast upon the forfeit place<br/> +Of the condemned soul. Abide thou then;<br/> +Thy punishment of right is merited:<br/> +And look thou well to that ill-gotten coin,<br/> +Which against Charles thy hardihood inspir’d.<br/> +If reverence of the keys restrain’d me not,<br/> +Which thou in happier time didst hold, I yet<br/> +Severer speech might use. Your avarice<br/> +O’ercasts the world with mourning, under foot<br/> +Treading the good, and raising bad men up.<br/> +Of shepherds, like to you, th’ Evangelist<br/> +Was ware, when her, who sits upon the waves,<br/> +With kings in filthy whoredom he beheld,<br/> +She who with seven heads tower’d at her birth,<br/> +And from ten horns her proof of glory drew,<br/> +Long as her spouse in virtue took delight.<br/> +Of gold and silver ye have made your god,<br/> +Diff’ring wherein from the idolater,<br/> +But he that worships one, a hundred ye?<br/> +Ah, Constantine! to how much ill gave birth,<br/> +Not thy conversion, but that plenteous dower,<br/> +Which the first wealthy Father gain’d from thee!” +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, as thus I sung, he, whether wrath<br/> +Or conscience smote him, violent upsprang<br/> +Spinning on either sole. I do believe<br/> +My teacher well was pleas’d, with so compos’d<br/> +A lip, he listen’d ever to the sound<br/> +Of the true words I utter’d. In both arms<br/> +He caught, and to his bosom lifting me<br/> +Upward retrac’d the way of his descent. +</p> + +<p> +Nor weary of his weight he press’d me close,<br/> +Till to the summit of the rock we came,<br/> +Our passage from the fourth to the fifth pier.<br/> +His cherish’d burden there gently he plac’d<br/> +Upon the rugged rock and steep, a path<br/> +Not easy for the clamb’ring goat to mount. +</p> + +<p> +Thence to my view another vale appear’d +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XX"></a>CANTO XX</h2> + +<p> +And now the verse proceeds to torments new,<br/> +Fit argument of this the twentieth strain<br/> +Of the first song, whose awful theme records<br/> +The spirits whelm’d in woe. Earnest I look’d<br/> +Into the depth, that open’d to my view,<br/> +Moisten’d with tears of anguish, and beheld<br/> +A tribe, that came along the hollow vale,<br/> +In silence weeping: such their step as walk<br/> +Quires chanting solemn litanies on earth. +</p> + +<p> +As on them more direct mine eye descends,<br/> +Each wondrously seem’d to be revers’d<br/> +At the neck-bone, so that the countenance<br/> +Was from the reins averted: and because<br/> +None might before him look, they were compell’d<br/> +To’ advance with backward gait. Thus one perhaps<br/> +Hath been by force of palsy clean transpos’d,<br/> +But I ne’er saw it nor believe it so. +</p> + +<p> +Now, reader! think within thyself, so God<br/> +Fruit of thy reading give thee! how I long<br/> +Could keep my visage dry, when I beheld<br/> +Near me our form distorted in such guise,<br/> +That on the hinder parts fall’n from the face<br/> +The tears down-streaming roll’d. Against a rock<br/> +I leant and wept, so that my guide exclaim’d:<br/> +“What, and art thou too witless as the rest?<br/> +Here pity most doth show herself alive,<br/> +When she is dead. What guilt exceedeth his,<br/> +Who with Heaven’s judgment in his passion strives?<br/> +Raise up thy head, raise up, and see the man,<br/> +Before whose eyes earth gap’d in Thebes, when all<br/> +Cried out, ‘Amphiaraus, whither rushest?<br/> +‘Why leavest thou the war?’ He not the less<br/> +Fell ruining far as to Minos down,<br/> +Whose grapple none eludes. Lo! how he makes<br/> +The breast his shoulders, and who once too far<br/> +Before him wish’d to see, now backward looks,<br/> +And treads reverse his path. Tiresias note,<br/> +Who semblance chang’d, when woman he became<br/> +Of male, through every limb transform’d, and then<br/> +Once more behov’d him with his rod to strike<br/> +The two entwining serpents, ere the plumes,<br/> +That mark’d the better sex, might shoot again. +</p> + +<p> +“Aruns, with more his belly facing, comes.<br/> +On Luni’s mountains ’midst the marbles white,<br/> +Where delves Carrara’s hind, who wons beneath,<br/> +A cavern was his dwelling, whence the stars<br/> +And main-sea wide in boundless view he held. +</p> + +<p> +“The next, whose loosen’d tresses overspread<br/> +Her bosom, which thou seest not (for each hair<br/> +On that side grows) was Manto, she who search’d<br/> +Through many regions, and at length her seat<br/> +Fix’d in my native land, whence a short space<br/> +My words detain thy audience. When her sire<br/> +From life departed, and in servitude<br/> +The city dedicate to Bacchus mourn’d,<br/> +Long time she went a wand’rer through the world.<br/> +Aloft in Italy’s delightful land<br/> +A lake there lies, at foot of that proud Alp,<br/> +That o’er the Tyrol locks Germania in,<br/> +Its name Benacus, which a thousand rills,<br/> +Methinks, and more, water between the vale<br/> +Camonica and Garda and the height<br/> +Of Apennine remote. There is a spot<br/> +At midway of that lake, where he who bears<br/> +Of Trento’s flock the past’ral staff, with him<br/> +Of Brescia, and the Veronese, might each<br/> +Passing that way his benediction give.<br/> +A garrison of goodly site and strong<br/> +Peschiera stands, to awe with front oppos’d<br/> +The Bergamese and Brescian, whence the shore<br/> +More slope each way descends. There, whatsoev’er<br/> +Benacus’ bosom holds not, tumbling o’er<br/> +Down falls, and winds a river flood beneath<br/> +Through the green pastures. Soon as in his course<br/> +The steam makes head, Benacus then no more<br/> +They call the name, but Mincius, till at last<br/> +Reaching Governo into Po he falls.<br/> +Not far his course hath run, when a wide flat<br/> +It finds, which overstretchmg as a marsh<br/> +It covers, pestilent in summer oft.<br/> +Hence journeying, the savage maiden saw<br/> +’Midst of the fen a territory waste<br/> +And naked of inhabitants. To shun<br/> +All human converse, here she with her slaves<br/> +Plying her arts remain’d, and liv’d, and left<br/> +Her body tenantless. Thenceforth the tribes,<br/> +Who round were scatter’d, gath’ring to that place<br/> +Assembled; for its strength was great, enclos’d<br/> +On all parts by the fen. On those dead bones<br/> +They rear’d themselves a city, for her sake,<br/> +Calling it Mantua, who first chose the spot,<br/> +Nor ask’d another omen for the name,<br/> +Wherein more numerous the people dwelt,<br/> +Ere Casalodi’s madness by deceit<br/> +Was wrong’d of Pinamonte. If thou hear<br/> +Henceforth another origin assign’d<br/> +Of that my country, I forewarn thee now,<br/> +That falsehood none beguile thee of the truth.” +</p> + +<p> +I answer’d: “Teacher, I conclude thy words<br/> +So certain, that all else shall be to me<br/> +As embers lacking life. But now of these,<br/> +Who here proceed, instruct me, if thou see<br/> +Any that merit more especial note.<br/> +For thereon is my mind alone intent.” +</p> + +<p> +He straight replied: “That spirit, from whose cheek<br/> +The beard sweeps o’er his shoulders brown, what time<br/> +Graecia was emptied of her males, that scarce<br/> +The cradles were supplied, the seer was he<br/> +In Aulis, who with Calchas gave the sign<br/> +When first to cut the cable. Him they nam’d<br/> +Eurypilus: so sings my tragic strain,<br/> +In which majestic measure well thou know’st,<br/> +Who know’st it all. That other, round the loins<br/> +So slender of his shape, was Michael Scot,<br/> +Practis’d in ev’ry slight of magic wile. +</p> + +<p> +“Guido Bonatti see: Asdente mark,<br/> +Who now were willing, he had tended still<br/> +The thread and cordwain; and too late repents. +</p> + +<p> +“See next the wretches, who the needle left,<br/> +The shuttle and the spindle, and became<br/> +Diviners: baneful witcheries they wrought<br/> +With images and herbs. But onward now:<br/> +For now doth Cain with fork of thorns confine<br/> +On either hemisphere, touching the wave<br/> +Beneath the towers of Seville. Yesternight<br/> +The moon was round. Thou mayst remember well:<br/> +For she good service did thee in the gloom<br/> +Of the deep wood.” This said, both onward mov’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXI"></a>CANTO XXI</h2> + +<p> +Thus we from bridge to bridge, with other talk,<br/> +The which my drama cares not to rehearse,<br/> +Pass’d on; and to the summit reaching, stood<br/> +To view another gap, within the round<br/> +Of Malebolge, other bootless pangs. +</p> + +<p> +Marvelous darkness shadow’d o’er the place. +</p> + +<p> +In the Venetians’ arsenal as boils<br/> +Through wintry months tenacious pitch, to smear<br/> +Their unsound vessels; for th’ inclement time<br/> +Sea-faring men restrains, and in that while<br/> +His bark one builds anew, another stops<br/> +The ribs of his, that hath made many a voyage;<br/> +One hammers at the prow, one at the poop;<br/> +This shapeth oars, that other cables twirls,<br/> +The mizen one repairs and main-sail rent<br/> +So not by force of fire but art divine<br/> +Boil’d here a glutinous thick mass, that round<br/> +Lim’d all the shore beneath. I that beheld,<br/> +But therein nought distinguish’d, save the surge,<br/> +Rais’d by the boiling, in one mighty swell<br/> +Heave, and by turns subsiding and fall. While there<br/> +I fix’d my ken below, “Mark! mark!” my guide<br/> +Exclaiming, drew me towards him from the place,<br/> +Wherein I stood. I turn’d myself as one,<br/> +Impatient to behold that which beheld<br/> +He needs must shun, whom sudden fear unmans,<br/> +That he his flight delays not for the view.<br/> +Behind me I discern’d a devil black,<br/> +That running, up advanc’d along the rock.<br/> +Ah! what fierce cruelty his look bespake!<br/> +In act how bitter did he seem, with wings<br/> +Buoyant outstretch’d and feet of nimblest tread!<br/> +His shoulder proudly eminent and sharp<br/> +Was with a sinner charg’d; by either haunch<br/> +He held him, the foot’s sinew griping fast. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye of our bridge!” he cried, “keen-talon’d fiends!<br/> +Lo! one of Santa Zita’s elders! Him<br/> +Whelm ye beneath, while I return for more.<br/> +That land hath store of such. All men are there,<br/> +Except Bonturo, barterers: of ‘no’<br/> +For lucre there an ‘aye’ is quickly made.” +</p> + +<p> +Him dashing down, o’er the rough rock he turn’d,<br/> +Nor ever after thief a mastiff loos’d<br/> +Sped with like eager haste. That other sank<br/> +And forthwith writing to the surface rose.<br/> +But those dark demons, shrouded by the bridge,<br/> +Cried “Here the hallow’d visage saves not: here<br/> +Is other swimming than in Serchio’s wave.<br/> +Wherefore if thou desire we rend thee not,<br/> +Take heed thou mount not o’er the pitch.” This said,<br/> +They grappled him with more than hundred hooks,<br/> +And shouted: “Cover’d thou must sport thee here;<br/> +So, if thou canst, in secret mayst thou filch.” +</p> + +<p> +E’en thus the cook bestirs him, with his grooms,<br/> +To thrust the flesh into the caldron down<br/> +With flesh-hooks, that it float not on the top. +</p> + +<p> +Me then my guide bespake: “Lest they descry,<br/> +That thou art here, behind a craggy rock<br/> +Bend low and screen thee; and whate’er of force<br/> +Be offer’d me, or insult, fear thou not:<br/> +For I am well advis’d, who have been erst<br/> +In the like fray.” Beyond the bridge’s head<br/> +Therewith he pass’d, and reaching the sixth pier,<br/> +Behov’d him then a forehead terror-proof. +</p> + +<p> +With storm and fury, as when dogs rush forth<br/> +Upon the poor man’s back, who suddenly<br/> +From whence he standeth makes his suit; so rush’d<br/> +Those from beneath the arch, and against him<br/> +Their weapons all they pointed. He aloud:<br/> +“Be none of you outrageous: ere your time<br/> +Dare seize me, come forth from amongst you one, +</p> + +<p> +“Who having heard my words, decide he then<br/> +If he shall tear these limbs.” They shouted loud,<br/> +“Go, Malacoda!” Whereat one advanc’d,<br/> +The others standing firm, and as he came,<br/> +“What may this turn avail him?” he exclaim’d. +</p> + +<p> +“Believ’st thou, Malacoda! I had come<br/> +Thus far from all your skirmishing secure,”<br/> +My teacher answered, “without will divine<br/> +And destiny propitious? Pass we then<br/> +For so Heaven’s pleasure is, that I should lead<br/> +Another through this savage wilderness.” +</p> + +<p> +Forthwith so fell his pride, that he let drop<br/> +The instrument of torture at his feet,<br/> +And to the rest exclaim’d: “We have no power<br/> +To strike him.” Then to me my guide: “O thou!<br/> +Who on the bridge among the crags dost sit<br/> +Low crouching, safely now to me return.” +</p> + +<p> +I rose, and towards him moved with speed: the fiends<br/> +Meantime all forward drew: me terror seiz’d<br/> +Lest they should break the compact they had made.<br/> +Thus issuing from Caprona, once I saw<br/> +Th’ infantry dreading, lest his covenant<br/> +The foe should break; so close he hemm’d them round. +</p> + +<p> +I to my leader’s side adher’d, mine eyes<br/> +With fixt and motionless observance bent<br/> +On their unkindly visage. They their hooks<br/> +Protruding, one the other thus bespake:<br/> +“Wilt thou I touch him on the hip?” To whom<br/> +Was answer’d: “Even so; nor miss thy aim.” +</p> + +<p> +But he, who was in conf’rence with my guide,<br/> +Turn’d rapid round, and thus the demon spake:<br/> +“Stay, stay thee, Scarmiglione!” Then to us<br/> +He added: “Further footing to your step<br/> +This rock affords not, shiver’d to the base<br/> +Of the sixth arch. But would you still proceed,<br/> +Up by this cavern go: not distant far,<br/> +Another rock will yield you passage safe.<br/> +Yesterday, later by five hours than now,<br/> +Twelve hundred threescore years and six had fill’d<br/> +The circuit of their course, since here the way<br/> +Was broken. Thitherward I straight dispatch<br/> +Certain of these my scouts, who shall espy<br/> +If any on the surface bask. With them<br/> +Go ye: for ye shall find them nothing fell.<br/> +Come Alichino forth,” with that he cried,<br/> +“And Calcabrina, and Cagnazzo thou!<br/> +The troop of ten let Barbariccia lead.<br/> +With Libicocco Draghinazzo haste,<br/> +Fang’d Ciriatto, Grafflacane fierce,<br/> +And Farfarello, and mad Rubicant.<br/> +Search ye around the bubbling tar. For these,<br/> +In safety lead them, where the other crag<br/> +Uninterrupted traverses the dens.” +</p> + +<p> +I then: “O master! what a sight is there!<br/> +Ah! without escort, journey we alone,<br/> +Which, if thou know the way, I covet not.<br/> +Unless thy prudence fail thee, dost not mark<br/> +How they do gnarl upon us, and their scowl<br/> +Threatens us present tortures?” He replied:<br/> +“I charge thee fear not: let them, as they will,<br/> +Gnarl on: ’t is but in token of their spite<br/> +Against the souls, who mourn in torment steep’d.” +</p> + +<p> +To leftward o’er the pier they turn’d; but each<br/> +Had first between his teeth prest close the tongue,<br/> +Toward their leader for a signal looking,<br/> +Which he with sound obscene triumphant gave. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXII"></a>CANTO XXII</h2> + +<p> +It hath been heretofore my chance to see<br/> +Horsemen with martial order shifting camp,<br/> +To onset sallying, or in muster rang’d,<br/> +Or in retreat sometimes outstretch’d for flight;<br/> +Light-armed squadrons and fleet foragers<br/> +Scouring thy plains, Arezzo! have I seen,<br/> +And clashing tournaments, and tilting jousts,<br/> +Now with the sound of trumpets, now of bells,<br/> +Tabors, or signals made from castled heights,<br/> +And with inventions multiform, our own,<br/> +Or introduc’d from foreign land; but ne’er<br/> +To such a strange recorder I beheld,<br/> +In evolution moving, horse nor foot,<br/> +Nor ship, that tack’d by sign from land or star. +</p> + +<p> +With the ten demons on our way we went;<br/> +Ah fearful company! but in the church<br/> +With saints, with gluttons at the tavern’s mess. +</p> + +<p> +Still earnest on the pitch I gaz’d, to mark<br/> +All things whate’er the chasm contain’d, and those<br/> +Who burn’d within. As dolphins, that, in sign<br/> +To mariners, heave high their arched backs,<br/> +That thence forewarn’d they may advise to save<br/> +Their threaten’d vessels; so, at intervals,<br/> +To ease the pain his back some sinner show’d,<br/> +Then hid more nimbly than the lightning glance. +</p> + +<p> +E’en as the frogs, that of a wat’ry moat<br/> +Stand at the brink, with the jaws only out,<br/> +Their feet and of the trunk all else concealed,<br/> +Thus on each part the sinners stood, but soon<br/> +As Barbariccia was at hand, so they<br/> +Drew back under the wave. I saw, and yet<br/> +My heart doth stagger, one, that waited thus,<br/> +As it befalls that oft one frog remains,<br/> +While the next springs away: and Graffiacan,<br/> +Who of the fiends was nearest, grappling seiz’d<br/> +His clotted locks, and dragg’d him sprawling up,<br/> +That he appear’d to me an otter. Each<br/> +Already by their names I knew, so well<br/> +When they were chosen, I observ’d, and mark’d<br/> +How one the other call’d. “O Rubicant!<br/> +See that his hide thou with thy talons flay,”<br/> +Shouted together all the cursed crew. +</p> + +<p> +Then I: “Inform thee, master! if thou may,<br/> +What wretched soul is this, on whom their hand<br/> +His foes have laid.” My leader to his side<br/> +Approach’d, and whence he came inquir’d, to whom<br/> +Was answer’d thus: “Born in Navarre’s domain<br/> +My mother plac’d me in a lord’s retinue,<br/> +For she had borne me to a losel vile,<br/> +A spendthrift of his substance and himself.<br/> +The good king Thibault after that I serv’d,<br/> +To peculating here my thoughts were turn’d,<br/> +Whereof I give account in this dire heat.” +</p> + +<p> +Straight Ciriatto, from whose mouth a tusk<br/> +Issued on either side, as from a boar,<br/> +Ript him with one of these. ’Twixt evil claws<br/> +The mouse had fall’n: but Barbariccia cried,<br/> +Seizing him with both arms: “Stand thou apart,<br/> +While I do fix him on my prong transpierc’d.”<br/> +Then added, turning to my guide his face,<br/> +“Inquire of him, if more thou wish to learn,<br/> +Ere he again be rent.” My leader thus:<br/> +“Then tell us of the partners in thy guilt;<br/> +Knowest thou any sprung of Latian land<br/> +Under the tar?”—“I parted,” he replied,<br/> +“But now from one, who sojourn’d not far thence;<br/> +So were I under shelter now with him!<br/> +Nor hook nor talon then should scare me more.”—. +</p> + +<p> +“Too long we suffer,” Libicocco cried,<br/> +Then, darting forth a prong, seiz’d on his arm,<br/> +And mangled bore away the sinewy part.<br/> +Him Draghinazzo by his thighs beneath<br/> +Would next have caught, whence angrily their chief,<br/> +Turning on all sides round, with threat’ning brow<br/> +Restrain’d them. When their strife a little ceas’d,<br/> +Of him, who yet was gazing on his wound,<br/> +My teacher thus without delay inquir’d:<br/> +“Who was the spirit, from whom by evil hap<br/> +Parting, as thou has told, thou cam’st to shore?”— +</p> + +<p> +“It was the friar Gomita,” he rejoin’d,<br/> +“He of Gallura, vessel of all guile,<br/> +Who had his master’s enemies in hand,<br/> +And us’d them so that they commend him well.<br/> +Money he took, and them at large dismiss’d.<br/> +So he reports: and in each other charge<br/> +Committed to his keeping, play’d the part<br/> +Of barterer to the height: with him doth herd<br/> +The chief of Logodoro, Michel Zanche.<br/> +Sardinia is a theme, whereof their tongue<br/> +Is never weary. Out! alas! behold<br/> +That other, how he grins! More would I say,<br/> +But tremble lest he mean to maul me sore.” +</p> + +<p> +Their captain then to Farfarello turning,<br/> +Who roll’d his moony eyes in act to strike,<br/> +Rebuk’d him thus: “Off! cursed bird! Avaunt!”— +</p> + +<p> +“If ye desire to see or hear,” he thus<br/> +Quaking with dread resum’d, “or Tuscan spirits<br/> +Or Lombard, I will cause them to appear.<br/> +Meantime let these ill talons bate their fury,<br/> +So that no vengeance they may fear from them,<br/> +And I, remaining in this self-same place,<br/> +Will for myself but one, make sev’n appear,<br/> +When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for so<br/> +Our custom is to call each other up.” +</p> + +<p> +Cagnazzo at that word deriding grinn’d,<br/> +Then wagg’d the head and spake: “Hear his device,<br/> +Mischievous as he is, to plunge him down.” +</p> + +<p> +Whereto he thus, who fail’d not in rich store<br/> +Of nice-wove toils; “Mischief forsooth extreme,<br/> +Meant only to procure myself more woe!” +</p> + +<p> +No longer Alichino then refrain’d,<br/> +But thus, the rest gainsaying, him bespake:<br/> +“If thou do cast thee down, I not on foot<br/> +Will chase thee, but above the pitch will beat<br/> +My plumes. Quit we the vantage ground, and let<br/> +The bank be as a shield, that we may see<br/> +If singly thou prevail against us all.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, reader, of new sport expect to hear! +</p> + +<p> +They each one turn’d his eyes to the’ other shore,<br/> +He first, who was the hardest to persuade.<br/> +The spirit of Navarre chose well his time,<br/> +Planted his feet on land, and at one leap<br/> +Escaping disappointed their resolve. +</p> + +<p> +Them quick resentment stung, but him the most,<br/> +Who was the cause of failure; in pursuit<br/> +He therefore sped, exclaiming; “Thou art caught.” +</p> + +<p> +But little it avail’d: terror outstripp’d<br/> +His following flight: the other plung’d beneath,<br/> +And he with upward pinion rais’d his breast:<br/> +E’en thus the water-fowl, when she perceives<br/> +The falcon near, dives instant down, while he<br/> +Enrag’d and spent retires. That mockery<br/> +In Calcabrina fury stirr’d, who flew<br/> +After him, with desire of strife inflam’d;<br/> +And, for the barterer had ’scap’d, so turn’d<br/> +His talons on his comrade. O’er the dyke<br/> +In grapple close they join’d; but the’ other prov’d<br/> +A goshawk able to rend well his foe; +</p> + +<p> +And in the boiling lake both fell. The heat<br/> +Was umpire soon between them, but in vain<br/> +To lift themselves they strove, so fast were glued<br/> +Their pennons. Barbariccia, as the rest,<br/> +That chance lamenting, four in flight dispatch’d<br/> +From the’ other coast, with all their weapons arm’d.<br/> +They, to their post on each side speedily<br/> +Descending, stretch’d their hooks toward the fiends,<br/> +Who flounder’d, inly burning from their scars:<br/> +And we departing left them to that broil. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXIII"></a>CANTO XXIII</h2> + +<p> +In silence and in solitude we went,<br/> +One first, the other following his steps,<br/> +As minor friars journeying on their road. +</p> + +<p> +The present fray had turn’d my thoughts to muse<br/> +Upon old Aesop’s fable, where he told<br/> +What fate unto the mouse and frog befell.<br/> +For language hath not sounds more like in sense,<br/> +Than are these chances, if the origin<br/> +And end of each be heedfully compar’d.<br/> +And as one thought bursts from another forth,<br/> +So afterward from that another sprang,<br/> +Which added doubly to my former fear.<br/> +For thus I reason’d: “These through us have been<br/> +So foil’d, with loss and mock’ry so complete,<br/> +As needs must sting them sore. If anger then<br/> +Be to their evil will conjoin’d, more fell<br/> +They shall pursue us, than the savage hound<br/> +Snatches the leveret, panting ’twixt his jaws.” +</p> + +<p> +Already I perceiv’d my hair stand all<br/> +On end with terror, and look’d eager back. +</p> + +<p> +“Teacher,” I thus began, “if speedily<br/> +Thyself and me thou hide not, much I dread<br/> +Those evil talons. Even now behind<br/> +They urge us: quick imagination works<br/> +So forcibly, that I already feel them.” +</p> + +<p> +He answer’d: “Were I form’d of leaded glass,<br/> +I should not sooner draw unto myself<br/> +Thy outward image, than I now imprint<br/> +That from within. This moment came thy thoughts<br/> +Presented before mine, with similar act<br/> +And count’nance similar, so that from both<br/> +I one design have fram’d. If the right coast<br/> +Incline so much, that we may thence descend<br/> +Into the other chasm, we shall escape<br/> +Secure from this imagined pursuit.” +</p> + +<p> +He had not spoke his purpose to the end,<br/> +When I from far beheld them with spread wings<br/> +Approach to take us. Suddenly my guide<br/> +Caught me, ev’n as a mother that from sleep<br/> +Is by the noise arous’d, and near her sees<br/> +The climbing fires, who snatches up her babe<br/> +And flies ne’er pausing, careful more of him<br/> +Than of herself, that but a single vest<br/> +Clings round her limbs. Down from the jutting beach<br/> +Supine he cast him, to that pendent rock,<br/> +Which closes on one part the other chasm. +</p> + +<p> +Never ran water with such hurrying pace<br/> +Adown the tube to turn a landmill’s wheel,<br/> +When nearest it approaches to the spokes,<br/> +As then along that edge my master ran,<br/> +Carrying me in his bosom, as a child,<br/> +Not a companion. Scarcely had his feet<br/> +Reach’d to the lowest of the bed beneath, +</p> + +<p> +When over us the steep they reach’d; but fear<br/> +In him was none; for that high Providence,<br/> +Which plac’d them ministers of the fifth foss,<br/> +Power of departing thence took from them all. +</p> + +<p> +There in the depth we saw a painted tribe,<br/> +Who pac’d with tardy steps around, and wept,<br/> +Faint in appearance and o’ercome with toil.<br/> +Caps had they on, with hoods, that fell low down<br/> +Before their eyes, in fashion like to those<br/> +Worn by the monks in Cologne. Their outside<br/> +Was overlaid with gold, dazzling to view,<br/> +But leaden all within, and of such weight,<br/> +That Frederick’s compar’d to these were straw.<br/> +Oh, everlasting wearisome attire! +</p> + +<p> +We yet once more with them together turn’d<br/> +To leftward, on their dismal moan intent.<br/> +But by the weight oppress’d, so slowly came<br/> +The fainting people, that our company<br/> +Was chang’d at every movement of the step. +</p> + +<p> +Whence I my guide address’d: “See that thou find<br/> +Some spirit, whose name may by his deeds be known,<br/> +And to that end look round thee as thou go’st.” +</p> + +<p> +Then one, who understood the Tuscan voice,<br/> +Cried after us aloud: “Hold in your feet,<br/> +Ye who so swiftly speed through the dusk air.<br/> +Perchance from me thou shalt obtain thy wish.” +</p> + +<p> +Whereat my leader, turning, me bespake:<br/> +“Pause, and then onward at their pace proceed.” +</p> + +<p> +I staid, and saw two Spirits in whose look<br/> +Impatient eagerness of mind was mark’d<br/> +To overtake me; but the load they bare<br/> +And narrow path retarded their approach. +</p> + +<p> +Soon as arriv’d, they with an eye askance<br/> +Perus’d me, but spake not: then turning each<br/> +To other thus conferring said: “This one<br/> +Seems, by the action of his throat, alive.<br/> +And, be they dead, what privilege allows<br/> +They walk unmantled by the cumbrous stole?” +</p> + +<p> +Then thus to me: “Tuscan, who visitest<br/> +The college of the mourning hypocrites,<br/> +Disdain not to instruct us who thou art.” +</p> + +<p> +“By Arno’s pleasant stream,” I thus replied,<br/> +“In the great city I was bred and grew,<br/> +And wear the body I have ever worn.<br/> +but who are ye, from whom such mighty grief,<br/> +As now I witness, courseth down your cheeks?<br/> +What torment breaks forth in this bitter woe?”<br/> +“Our bonnets gleaming bright with orange hue,”<br/> +One of them answer’d, “are so leaden gross,<br/> +That with their weight they make the balances<br/> +To crack beneath them. Joyous friars we were,<br/> +Bologna’s natives, Catalano I,<br/> +He Loderingo nam’d, and by thy land<br/> +Together taken, as men used to take<br/> +A single and indifferent arbiter,<br/> +To reconcile their strifes. How there we sped,<br/> +Gardingo’s vicinage can best declare.” +</p> + +<p> +“O friars!” I began, “your miseries—”<br/> +But there brake off, for one had caught my eye,<br/> +Fix’d to a cross with three stakes on the ground:<br/> +He, when he saw me, writh’d himself, throughout<br/> +Distorted, ruffling with deep sighs his beard.<br/> +And Catalano, who thereof was ’ware, +</p> + +<p> +Thus spake: “That pierced spirit, whom intent<br/> +Thou view’st, was he who gave the Pharisees<br/> +Counsel, that it were fitting for one man<br/> +To suffer for the people. He doth lie<br/> +Transverse; nor any passes, but him first<br/> +Behoves make feeling trial how each weighs.<br/> +In straits like this along the foss are plac’d<br/> +The father of his consort, and the rest<br/> +Partakers in that council, seed of ill<br/> +And sorrow to the Jews.” I noted then,<br/> +How Virgil gaz’d with wonder upon him,<br/> +Thus abjectly extended on the cross<br/> +In banishment eternal. To the friar<br/> +He next his words address’d: “We pray ye tell,<br/> +If so be lawful, whether on our right<br/> +Lies any opening in the rock, whereby<br/> +We both may issue hence, without constraint<br/> +On the dark angels, that compell’d they come<br/> +To lead us from this depth.” He thus replied:<br/> +“Nearer than thou dost hope, there is a rock<br/> +From the next circle moving, which o’ersteps<br/> +Each vale of horror, save that here his cope<br/> +Is shatter’d. By the ruin ye may mount:<br/> +For on the side it slants, and most the height<br/> +Rises below.” With head bent down awhile<br/> +My leader stood, then spake: “He warn’d us ill,<br/> +Who yonder hangs the sinners on his hook.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the friar: At Bologna erst<br/> +“I many vices of the devil heard,<br/> +Among the rest was said, ‘He is a liar,<br/> +And the father of lies!’” When he had spoke,<br/> +My leader with large strides proceeded on,<br/> +Somewhat disturb’d with anger in his look. +</p> + +<p> +I therefore left the spirits heavy laden,<br/> +And following, his beloved footsteps mark’d. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXIV"></a>CANTO XXIV</h2> + +<p> +In the year’s early nonage, when the sun<br/> +Tempers his tresses in Aquarius’ urn,<br/> +And now towards equal day the nights recede,<br/> +When as the rime upon the earth puts on<br/> +Her dazzling sister’s image, but not long<br/> +Her milder sway endures, then riseth up<br/> +The village hind, whom fails his wintry store,<br/> +And looking out beholds the plain around<br/> +All whiten’d, whence impatiently he smites<br/> +His thighs, and to his hut returning in,<br/> +There paces to and fro, wailing his lot,<br/> +As a discomfited and helpless man;<br/> +Then comes he forth again, and feels new hope<br/> +Spring in his bosom, finding e’en thus soon<br/> +The world hath chang’d its count’nance, grasps his crook,<br/> +And forth to pasture drives his little flock:<br/> +So me my guide dishearten’d when I saw<br/> +His troubled forehead, and so speedily<br/> +That ill was cur’d; for at the fallen bridge<br/> +Arriving, towards me with a look as sweet,<br/> +He turn’d him back, as that I first beheld<br/> +At the steep mountain’s foot. Regarding well<br/> +The ruin, and some counsel first maintain’d<br/> +With his own thought, he open’d wide his arm<br/> +And took me up. As one, who, while he works,<br/> +Computes his labour’s issue, that he seems<br/> +Still to foresee the’ effect, so lifting me<br/> +Up to the summit of one peak, he fix’d<br/> +His eye upon another. “Grapple that,”<br/> +Said he, “but first make proof, if it be such<br/> +As will sustain thee.” For one capp’d with lead<br/> +This were no journey. Scarcely he, though light,<br/> +And I, though onward push’d from crag to crag,<br/> +Could mount. And if the precinct of this coast<br/> +Were not less ample than the last, for him<br/> +I know not, but my strength had surely fail’d.<br/> +But Malebolge all toward the mouth<br/> +Inclining of the nethermost abyss,<br/> +The site of every valley hence requires,<br/> +That one side upward slope, the other fall. +</p> + +<p> +At length the point of our descent we reach’d<br/> +From the last flag: soon as to that arriv’d,<br/> +So was the breath exhausted from my lungs,<br/> +I could no further, but did seat me there. +</p> + +<p> +“Now needs thy best of man;” so spake my guide:<br/> +“For not on downy plumes, nor under shade<br/> +Of canopy reposing, fame is won,<br/> +Without which whosoe’er consumes his days<br/> +Leaveth such vestige of himself on earth,<br/> +As smoke in air or foam upon the wave.<br/> +Thou therefore rise: vanish thy weariness<br/> +By the mind’s effort, in each struggle form’d<br/> +To vanquish, if she suffer not the weight<br/> +Of her corporeal frame to crush her down.<br/> +A longer ladder yet remains to scale.<br/> +From these to have escap’d sufficeth not.<br/> +If well thou note me, profit by my words.” +</p> + +<p> +I straightway rose, and show’d myself less spent<br/> +Than I in truth did feel me. “On,” I cried,<br/> +“For I am stout and fearless.” Up the rock<br/> +Our way we held, more rugged than before,<br/> +Narrower and steeper far to climb. From talk<br/> +I ceas’d not, as we journey’d, so to seem<br/> +Least faint; whereat a voice from the other foss<br/> +Did issue forth, for utt’rance suited ill.<br/> +Though on the arch that crosses there I stood,<br/> +What were the words I knew not, but who spake<br/> +Seem’d mov’d in anger. Down I stoop’d to look,<br/> +But my quick eye might reach not to the depth<br/> +For shrouding darkness; wherefore thus I spake:<br/> +“To the next circle, Teacher, bend thy steps,<br/> +And from the wall dismount we; for as hence<br/> +I hear and understand not, so I see<br/> +Beneath, and naught discern.”—“I answer not,”<br/> +Said he, “but by the deed. To fair request<br/> +Silent performance maketh best return.” +</p> + +<p> +We from the bridge’s head descended, where<br/> +To the eighth mound it joins, and then the chasm<br/> +Opening to view, I saw a crowd within<br/> +Of serpents terrible, so strange of shape<br/> +And hideous, that remembrance in my veins<br/> +Yet shrinks the vital current. Of her sands<br/> +Let Lybia vaunt no more: if Jaculus,<br/> +Pareas and Chelyder be her brood,<br/> +Cenchris and Amphisboena, plagues so dire<br/> +Or in such numbers swarming ne’er she shew’d,<br/> +Not with all Ethiopia, and whate’er<br/> +Above the Erythraean sea is spawn’d. +</p> + +<p> +Amid this dread exuberance of woe<br/> +Ran naked spirits wing’d with horrid fear,<br/> +Nor hope had they of crevice where to hide,<br/> +Or heliotrope to charm them out of view.<br/> +With serpents were their hands behind them bound,<br/> +Which through their reins infix’d the tail and head<br/> +Twisted in folds before. And lo! on one<br/> +Near to our side, darted an adder up,<br/> +And, where the neck is on the shoulders tied,<br/> +Transpierc’d him. Far more quickly than e’er pen<br/> +Wrote O or I, he kindled, burn’d, and chang’d<br/> +To ashes, all pour’d out upon the earth.<br/> +When there dissolv’d he lay, the dust again<br/> +Uproll’d spontaneous, and the self-same form<br/> +Instant resumed. So mighty sages tell,<br/> +The’ Arabian Phoenix, when five hundred years<br/> +Have well nigh circled, dies, and springs forthwith<br/> +Renascent. Blade nor herb throughout his life<br/> +He tastes, but tears of frankincense alone<br/> +And odorous amomum: swaths of nard<br/> +And myrrh his funeral shroud. As one that falls,<br/> +He knows not how, by force demoniac dragg’d<br/> +To earth, or through obstruction fettering up<br/> +In chains invisible the powers of man,<br/> +Who, risen from his trance, gazeth around,<br/> +Bewilder’d with the monstrous agony<br/> +He hath endur’d, and wildly staring sighs;<br/> +So stood aghast the sinner when he rose. +</p> + +<p> +Oh! how severe God’s judgment, that deals out<br/> +Such blows in stormy vengeance! Who he was<br/> +My teacher next inquir’d, and thus in few<br/> +He answer’d: “Vanni Fucci am I call’d,<br/> +Not long since rained down from Tuscany<br/> +To this dire gullet. Me the beastial life<br/> +And not the human pleas’d, mule that I was,<br/> +Who in Pistoia found my worthy den.” +</p> + +<p> +I then to Virgil: “Bid him stir not hence,<br/> +And ask what crime did thrust him hither: once<br/> +A man I knew him choleric and bloody.” +</p> + +<p> +The sinner heard and feign’d not, but towards me<br/> +His mind directing and his face, wherein<br/> +Was dismal shame depictur’d, thus he spake:<br/> +“It grieves me more to have been caught by thee<br/> +In this sad plight, which thou beholdest, than<br/> +When I was taken from the other life.<br/> +I have no power permitted to deny<br/> +What thou inquirest. I am doom’d thus low<br/> +To dwell, for that the sacristy by me<br/> +Was rifled of its goodly ornaments,<br/> +And with the guilt another falsely charged.<br/> +But that thou mayst not joy to see me thus,<br/> +So as thou e’er shalt ’scape this darksome realm<br/> +Open thine ears and hear what I forebode.<br/> +Reft of the Neri first Pistoia pines,<br/> +Then Florence changeth citizens and laws.<br/> +From Valdimagra, drawn by wrathful Mars,<br/> +A vapour rises, wrapt in turbid mists,<br/> +And sharp and eager driveth on the storm<br/> +With arrowy hurtling o’er Piceno’s field,<br/> +Whence suddenly the cloud shall burst, and strike<br/> +Each helpless Bianco prostrate to the ground.<br/> +This have I told, that grief may rend thy heart.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXV"></a>CANTO XXV</h2> + +<p> +When he had spoke, the sinner rais’d his hands<br/> +Pointed in mockery, and cried: “Take them, God!<br/> +I level them at thee!” From that day forth<br/> +The serpents were my friends; for round his neck<br/> +One of then rolling twisted, as it said,<br/> +“Be silent, tongue!” Another to his arms<br/> +Upgliding, tied them, riveting itself<br/> +So close, it took from them the power to move. +</p> + +<p> +Pistoia! Ah Pistoia! why dost doubt<br/> +To turn thee into ashes, cumb’ring earth<br/> +No longer, since in evil act so far<br/> +Thou hast outdone thy seed? I did not mark,<br/> +Through all the gloomy circles of the’ abyss,<br/> +Spirit, that swell’d so proudly ’gainst his God,<br/> +Not him, who headlong fell from Thebes. He fled,<br/> +Nor utter’d more; and after him there came<br/> +A centaur full of fury, shouting, “Where<br/> +Where is the caitiff?” On Maremma’s marsh<br/> +Swarm not the serpent tribe, as on his haunch<br/> +They swarm’d, to where the human face begins.<br/> +Behind his head upon the shoulders lay,<br/> +With open wings, a dragon breathing fire<br/> +On whomsoe’er he met. To me my guide:<br/> +“Cacus is this, who underneath the rock<br/> +Of Aventine spread oft a lake of blood.<br/> +He, from his brethren parted, here must tread<br/> +A different journey, for his fraudful theft<br/> +Of the great herd, that near him stall’d; whence found<br/> +His felon deeds their end, beneath the mace<br/> +Of stout Alcides, that perchance laid on<br/> +A hundred blows, and not the tenth was felt.” +</p> + +<p> +While yet he spake, the centaur sped away:<br/> +And under us three spirits came, of whom<br/> +Nor I nor he was ware, till they exclaim’d;<br/> +“Say who are ye?” We then brake off discourse,<br/> +Intent on these alone. I knew them not;<br/> +But, as it chanceth oft, befell, that one<br/> +Had need to name another. “Where,” said he,<br/> +“Doth Cianfa lurk?” I, for a sign my guide<br/> +Should stand attentive, plac’d against my lips<br/> +The finger lifted. If, O reader! now<br/> +Thou be not apt to credit what I tell,<br/> +No marvel; for myself do scarce allow<br/> +The witness of mine eyes. But as I looked<br/> +Toward them, lo! a serpent with six feet<br/> +Springs forth on one, and fastens full upon him:<br/> +His midmost grasp’d the belly, a forefoot<br/> +Seiz’d on each arm (while deep in either cheek<br/> +He flesh’d his fangs); the hinder on the thighs<br/> +Were spread, ’twixt which the tail inserted curl’d<br/> +Upon the reins behind. Ivy ne’er clasp’d<br/> +A dodder’d oak, as round the other’s limbs<br/> +The hideous monster intertwin’d his own.<br/> +Then, as they both had been of burning wax,<br/> +Each melted into other, mingling hues,<br/> +That which was either now was seen no more.<br/> +Thus up the shrinking paper, ere it burns,<br/> +A brown tint glides, not turning yet to black,<br/> +And the clean white expires. The other two<br/> +Look’d on exclaiming: “Ah, how dost thou change,<br/> +Agnello! See! Thou art nor double now, +</p> + +<p> +“Nor only one.” The two heads now became<br/> +One, and two figures blended in one form<br/> +Appear’d, where both were lost. Of the four lengths<br/> +Two arms were made: the belly and the chest<br/> +The thighs and legs into such members chang’d,<br/> +As never eye hath seen. Of former shape<br/> +All trace was vanish’d. Two yet neither seem’d<br/> +That image miscreate, and so pass’d on<br/> +With tardy steps. As underneath the scourge<br/> +Of the fierce dog-star, that lays bare the fields,<br/> +Shifting from brake to brake, the lizard seems<br/> +A flash of lightning, if he thwart the road,<br/> +So toward th’ entrails of the other two<br/> +Approaching seem’d, an adder all on fire,<br/> +As the dark pepper-grain, livid and swart.<br/> +In that part, whence our life is nourish’d first,<br/> +One he transpierc’d; then down before him fell<br/> +Stretch’d out. The pierced spirit look’d on him<br/> +But spake not; yea stood motionless and yawn’d,<br/> +As if by sleep or fev’rous fit assail’d.<br/> +He ey’d the serpent, and the serpent him.<br/> +One from the wound, the other from the mouth<br/> +Breath’d a thick smoke, whose vap’ry columns join’d. +</p> + +<p> +Lucan in mute attention now may hear,<br/> +Nor thy disastrous fate, Sabellus! tell,<br/> +Nor shine, Nasidius! Ovid now be mute.<br/> +What if in warbling fiction he record<br/> +Cadmus and Arethusa, to a snake<br/> +Him chang’d, and her into a fountain clear,<br/> +I envy not; for never face to face<br/> +Two natures thus transmuted did he sing,<br/> +Wherein both shapes were ready to assume<br/> +The other’s substance. They in mutual guise<br/> +So answer’d, that the serpent split his train<br/> +Divided to a fork, and the pierc’d spirit<br/> +Drew close his steps together, legs and thighs<br/> +Compacted, that no sign of juncture soon<br/> +Was visible: the tail disparted took<br/> +The figure which the spirit lost, its skin<br/> +Soft’ning, his indurated to a rind.<br/> +The shoulders next I mark’d, that ent’ring join’d<br/> +The monster’s arm-pits, whose two shorter feet<br/> +So lengthen’d, as the other’s dwindling shrunk.<br/> +The feet behind then twisting up became<br/> +That part that man conceals, which in the wretch<br/> +Was cleft in twain. While both the shadowy smoke<br/> +With a new colour veils, and generates<br/> +Th’ excrescent pile on one, peeling it off<br/> +From th’ other body, lo! upon his feet<br/> +One upright rose, and prone the other fell.<br/> +Not yet their glaring and malignant lamps<br/> +Were shifted, though each feature chang’d beneath.<br/> +Of him who stood erect, the mounting face<br/> +Retreated towards the temples, and what there<br/> +Superfluous matter came, shot out in ears<br/> +From the smooth cheeks, the rest, not backward dragg’d,<br/> +Of its excess did shape the nose; and swell’d<br/> +Into due size protuberant the lips.<br/> +He, on the earth who lay, meanwhile extends<br/> +His sharpen’d visage, and draws down the ears<br/> +Into the head, as doth the slug his horns.<br/> +His tongue continuous before and apt<br/> +For utt’rance, severs; and the other’s fork<br/> +Closing unites. That done the smoke was laid.<br/> +The soul, transform’d into the brute, glides off,<br/> +Hissing along the vale, and after him<br/> +The other talking sputters; but soon turn’d<br/> +His new-grown shoulders on him, and in few<br/> +Thus to another spake: “Along this path<br/> +Crawling, as I have done, speed Buoso now!” +</p> + +<p> +So saw I fluctuate in successive change<br/> +Th’ unsteady ballast of the seventh hold:<br/> +And here if aught my tongue have swerv’d, events<br/> +So strange may be its warrant. O’er mine eyes<br/> +Confusion hung, and on my thoughts amaze. +</p> + +<p> +Yet ’scap’d they not so covertly, but well<br/> +I mark’d Sciancato: he alone it was<br/> +Of the three first that came, who chang’d not: thou,<br/> +The other’s fate, Gaville, still dost rue. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXVI"></a>CANTO XXVI</h2> + +<p> +Florence exult! for thou so mightily<br/> +Hast thriven, that o’er land and sea thy wings<br/> +Thou beatest, and thy name spreads over hell!<br/> +Among the plund’rers such the three I found<br/> +Thy citizens, whence shame to me thy son,<br/> +And no proud honour to thyself redounds. +</p> + +<p> +But if our minds, when dreaming near the dawn,<br/> +Are of the truth presageful, thou ere long<br/> +Shalt feel what Prato, (not to say the rest)<br/> +Would fain might come upon thee; and that chance<br/> +Were in good time, if it befell thee now.<br/> +Would so it were, since it must needs befall!<br/> +For as time wears me, I shall grieve the more. +</p> + +<p> +We from the depth departed; and my guide<br/> +Remounting scal’d the flinty steps, which late<br/> +We downward trac’d, and drew me up the steep.<br/> +Pursuing thus our solitary way<br/> +Among the crags and splinters of the rock,<br/> +Sped not our feet without the help of hands. +</p> + +<p> +Then sorrow seiz’d me, which e’en now revives,<br/> +As my thought turns again to what I saw,<br/> +And, more than I am wont, I rein and curb<br/> +The powers of nature in me, lest they run<br/> +Where Virtue guides not; that if aught of good<br/> +My gentle star, or something better gave me,<br/> +I envy not myself the precious boon. +</p> + +<p> +As in that season, when the sun least veils<br/> +His face that lightens all, what time the fly<br/> +Gives way to the shrill gnat, the peasant then<br/> +Upon some cliff reclin’d, beneath him sees<br/> +Fire-flies innumerous spangling o’er the vale,<br/> +Vineyard or tilth, where his day-labour lies:<br/> +With flames so numberless throughout its space<br/> +Shone the eighth chasm, apparent, when the depth<br/> +Was to my view expos’d. As he, whose wrongs<br/> +The bears aveng’d, at its departure saw<br/> +Elijah’s chariot, when the steeds erect<br/> +Rais’d their steep flight for heav’n; his eyes meanwhile,<br/> +Straining pursu’d them, till the flame alone<br/> +Upsoaring like a misty speck he kenn’d;<br/> +E’en thus along the gulf moves every flame,<br/> +A sinner so enfolded close in each,<br/> +That none exhibits token of the theft. +</p> + +<p> +Upon the bridge I forward bent to look,<br/> +And grasp’d a flinty mass, or else had fall’n,<br/> +Though push’d not from the height. The guide, who mark’d<br/> +How I did gaze attentive, thus began: +</p> + +<p> +“Within these ardours are the spirits, each<br/> +Swath’d in confining fire.”—“Master, thy word,”<br/> +I answer’d, “hath assur’d me; yet I deem’d<br/> +Already of the truth, already wish’d<br/> +To ask thee, who is in yon fire, that comes<br/> +So parted at the summit, as it seem’d<br/> +Ascending from that funeral pile, where lay<br/> +The Theban brothers?” He replied: “Within<br/> +Ulysses there and Diomede endure<br/> +Their penal tortures, thus to vengeance now<br/> +Together hasting, as erewhile to wrath.<br/> +These in the flame with ceaseless groans deplore<br/> +The ambush of the horse, that open’d wide<br/> +A portal for that goodly seed to pass,<br/> +Which sow’d imperial Rome; nor less the guile<br/> +Lament they, whence of her Achilles ’reft<br/> +Deidamia yet in death complains.<br/> +And there is rued the stratagem, that Troy<br/> +Of her Palladium spoil’d.”—“If they have power<br/> +Of utt’rance from within these sparks,” said I,<br/> +“O master! think my prayer a thousand fold<br/> +In repetition urg’d, that thou vouchsafe<br/> +To pause, till here the horned flame arrive.<br/> +See, how toward it with desire I bend.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus: “Thy prayer is worthy of much praise,<br/> +And I accept it therefore: but do thou<br/> +Thy tongue refrain: to question them be mine,<br/> +For I divine thy wish: and they perchance,<br/> +For they were Greeks, might shun discourse with thee.” +</p> + +<p> +When there the flame had come, where time and place<br/> +Seem’d fitting to my guide, he thus began:<br/> +“O ye, who dwell two spirits in one fire!<br/> +If living I of you did merit aught,<br/> +Whate’er the measure were of that desert,<br/> +When in the world my lofty strain I pour’d,<br/> +Move ye not on, till one of you unfold<br/> +In what clime death o’ertook him self-destroy’d.” +</p> + +<p> +Of the old flame forthwith the greater horn<br/> +Began to roll, murmuring, as a fire<br/> +That labours with the wind, then to and fro<br/> +Wagging the top, as a tongue uttering sounds,<br/> +Threw out its voice, and spake: “When I escap’d<br/> +From Circe, who beyond a circling year<br/> +Had held me near Caieta, by her charms,<br/> +Ere thus Aeneas yet had nam’d the shore,<br/> +Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence<br/> +Of my old father, nor return of love,<br/> +That should have crown’d Penelope with joy,<br/> +Could overcome in me the zeal I had<br/> +T’ explore the world, and search the ways of life,<br/> +Man’s evil and his virtue. Forth I sail’d<br/> +Into the deep illimitable main,<br/> +With but one bark, and the small faithful band<br/> +That yet cleav’d to me. As Iberia far,<br/> +Far as Morocco either shore I saw,<br/> +And the Sardinian and each isle beside<br/> +Which round that ocean bathes. Tardy with age<br/> +Were I and my companions, when we came<br/> +To the strait pass, where Hercules ordain’d<br/> +The bound’ries not to be o’erstepp’d by man.<br/> +The walls of Seville to my right I left,<br/> +On the’ other hand already Ceuta past. +</p> + +<p> +“O brothers!” I began, “who to the west<br/> +Through perils without number now have reach’d,<br/> +To this the short remaining watch, that yet<br/> +Our senses have to wake, refuse not proof<br/> +Of the unpeopled world, following the track<br/> +Of Phoebus. Call to mind from whence we sprang:<br/> +Ye were not form’d to live the life of brutes<br/> +But virtue to pursue and knowledge high.<br/> +With these few words I sharpen’d for the voyage<br/> +The mind of my associates, that I then<br/> +Could scarcely have withheld them. To the dawn<br/> +Our poop we turn’d, and for the witless flight<br/> +Made our oars wings, still gaining on the left.<br/> +Each star of the’ other pole night now beheld,<br/> +And ours so low, that from the ocean-floor<br/> +It rose not. Five times re-illum’d, as oft<br/> +Vanish’d the light from underneath the moon<br/> +Since the deep way we enter’d, when from far<br/> +Appear’d a mountain dim, loftiest methought<br/> +Of all I e’er beheld. Joy seiz’d us straight,<br/> +But soon to mourning changed. From the new land<br/> +A whirlwind sprung, and at her foremost side<br/> +Did strike the vessel. Thrice it whirl’d her round<br/> +With all the waves, the fourth time lifted up<br/> +The poop, and sank the prow: so fate decreed:<br/> +And over us the booming billow clos’d.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXVII"></a>CANTO XVII</h2> + +<p> +Now upward rose the flame, and still’d its light<br/> +To speak no more, and now pass’d on with leave<br/> +From the mild poet gain’d, when following came<br/> +Another, from whose top a sound confus’d,<br/> +Forth issuing, drew our eyes that way to look. +</p> + +<p> +As the Sicilian bull, that rightfully<br/> +His cries first echoed, who had shap’d its mould,<br/> +Did so rebellow, with the voice of him<br/> +Tormented, that the brazen monster seem’d<br/> +Pierc’d through with pain; thus while no way they found<br/> +Nor avenue immediate through the flame,<br/> +Into its language turn’d the dismal words:<br/> +But soon as they had won their passage forth,<br/> +Up from the point, which vibrating obey’d<br/> +Their motion at the tongue, these sounds we heard:<br/> +“O thou! to whom I now direct my voice!<br/> +That lately didst exclaim in Lombard phrase, +</p> + +<p> +“Depart thou, I solicit thee no more,<br/> +Though somewhat tardy I perchance arrive<br/> +Let it not irk thee here to pause awhile,<br/> +And with me parley: lo! it irks not me<br/> +And yet I burn. If but e’en now thou fall<br/> +into this blind world, from that pleasant land<br/> +Of Latium, whence I draw my sum of guilt,<br/> +Tell me if those, who in Romagna dwell,<br/> +Have peace or war. For of the mountains there<br/> +Was I, betwixt Urbino and the height,<br/> +Whence Tyber first unlocks his mighty flood.” +</p> + +<p> +Leaning I listen’d yet with heedful ear,<br/> +When, as he touch’d my side, the leader thus:<br/> +“Speak thou: he is a Latian.” My reply<br/> +Was ready, and I spake without delay: +</p> + +<p> +“O spirit! who art hidden here below!<br/> +Never was thy Romagna without war<br/> +In her proud tyrants’ bosoms, nor is now:<br/> +But open war there left I none. The state,<br/> +Ravenna hath maintain’d this many a year,<br/> +Is steadfast. There Polenta’s eagle broods,<br/> +And in his broad circumference of plume<br/> +O’ershadows Cervia. The green talons grasp<br/> +The land, that stood erewhile the proof so long,<br/> +And pil’d in bloody heap the host of France. +</p> + +<p> +“The’ old mastiff of Verruchio and the young,<br/> +That tore Montagna in their wrath, still make,<br/> +Where they are wont, an augre of their fangs. +</p> + +<p> +“Lamone’s city and Santerno’s range<br/> +Under the lion of the snowy lair.<br/> +Inconstant partisan! that changeth sides,<br/> +Or ever summer yields to winter’s frost.<br/> +And she, whose flank is wash’d of Savio’s wave,<br/> +As ’twixt the level and the steep she lies,<br/> +Lives so ’twixt tyrant power and liberty. +</p> + +<p> +“Now tell us, I entreat thee, who art thou?<br/> +Be not more hard than others. In the world,<br/> +So may thy name still rear its forehead high.” +</p> + +<p> +Then roar’d awhile the fire, its sharpen’d point<br/> +On either side wav’d, and thus breath’d at last:<br/> +“If I did think, my answer were to one,<br/> +Who ever could return unto the world,<br/> +This flame should rest unshaken. But since ne’er,<br/> +If true be told me, any from this depth<br/> +Has found his upward way, I answer thee,<br/> +Nor fear lest infamy record the words. +</p> + +<p> +“A man of arms at first, I cloth’d me then<br/> +In good Saint Francis’ girdle, hoping so<br/> +T’ have made amends. And certainly my hope<br/> +Had fail’d not, but that he, whom curses light on,<br/> +The’ high priest again seduc’d me into sin.<br/> +And how and wherefore listen while I tell.<br/> +Long as this spirit mov’d the bones and pulp<br/> +My mother gave me, less my deeds bespake<br/> +The nature of the lion than the fox.<br/> +All ways of winding subtlety I knew,<br/> +And with such art conducted, that the sound<br/> +Reach’d the world’s limit. Soon as to that part<br/> +Of life I found me come, when each behoves<br/> +To lower sails and gather in the lines;<br/> +That which before had pleased me then I rued,<br/> +And to repentance and confession turn’d;<br/> +Wretch that I was! and well it had bested me!<br/> +The chief of the new Pharisees meantime,<br/> +Waging his warfare near the Lateran,<br/> +Not with the Saracens or Jews (his foes<br/> +All Christians were, nor against Acre one<br/> +Had fought, nor traffic’d in the Soldan’s land),<br/> +He his great charge nor sacred ministry<br/> +In himself, rev’renc’d, nor in me that cord,<br/> +Which us’d to mark with leanness whom it girded.<br/> +As in Socrate, Constantine besought<br/> +To cure his leprosy Sylvester’s aid,<br/> +So me to cure the fever of his pride<br/> +This man besought: my counsel to that end<br/> +He ask’d: and I was silent: for his words<br/> +Seem’d drunken: but forthwith he thus resum’d:<br/> +‘From thy heart banish fear: of all offence<br/> +I hitherto absolve thee. In return,<br/> +Teach me my purpose so to execute,<br/> +That Penestrino cumber earth no more.<br/> +Heav’n, as thou knowest, I have power to shut<br/> +And open: and the keys are therefore twain,<br/> +The which my predecessor meanly priz’d.’” +</p> + +<p> +Then, yielding to the forceful arguments,<br/> +Of silence as more perilous I deem’d,<br/> +And answer’d: “Father! since thou washest me<br/> +Clear of that guilt wherein I now must fall,<br/> +Large promise with performance scant, be sure,<br/> +Shall make thee triumph in thy lofty seat.” +</p> + +<p> +“When I was number’d with the dead, then came<br/> +Saint Francis for me; but a cherub dark<br/> +He met, who cried: ‘Wrong me not; he is mine,<br/> +And must below to join the wretched crew,<br/> +For the deceitful counsel which he gave.<br/> +E’er since I watch’d him, hov’ring at his hair,<br/> +No power can the impenitent absolve;<br/> +Nor to repent and will at once consist,<br/> +By contradiction absolute forbid.’”<br/> +Oh mis’ry! how I shook myself, when he<br/> +Seiz’d me, and cried, “Thou haply thought’st me not<br/> +A disputant in logic so exact.”<br/> +To Minos down he bore me, and the judge<br/> +Twin’d eight times round his callous back the tail,<br/> +Which biting with excess of rage, he spake:<br/> +“This is a guilty soul, that in the fire<br/> +Must vanish. Hence perdition-doom’d I rove<br/> +A prey to rankling sorrow in this garb.” +</p> + +<p> +When he had thus fulfill’d his words, the flame<br/> +In dolour parted, beating to and fro,<br/> +And writhing its sharp horn. We onward went,<br/> +I and my leader, up along the rock,<br/> +Far as another arch, that overhangs<br/> +The foss, wherein the penalty is paid<br/> +Of those, who load them with committed sin. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXVIII"></a>CANTO XXVIII</h2> + +<p> +Who, e’en in words unfetter’d, might at full<br/> +Tell of the wounds and blood that now I saw,<br/> +Though he repeated oft the tale? No tongue<br/> +So vast a theme could equal, speech and thought<br/> +Both impotent alike. If in one band<br/> +Collected, stood the people all, who e’er<br/> +Pour’d on Apulia’s happy soil their blood,<br/> +Slain by the Trojans, and in that long war<br/> +When of the rings the measur’d booty made<br/> +A pile so high, as Rome’s historian writes<br/> +Who errs not, with the multitude, that felt<br/> +The grinding force of Guiscard’s Norman steel,<br/> +And those the rest, whose bones are gather’d yet<br/> +At Ceperano, there where treachery<br/> +Branded th’ Apulian name, or where beyond<br/> +Thy walls, O Tagliacozzo, without arms<br/> +The old Alardo conquer’d; and his limbs<br/> +One were to show transpierc’d, another his<br/> +Clean lopt away; a spectacle like this<br/> +Were but a thing of nought, to the’ hideous sight<br/> +Of the ninth chasm. A rundlet, that hath lost<br/> +Its middle or side stave, gapes not so wide,<br/> +As one I mark’d, torn from the chin throughout<br/> +Down to the hinder passage: ’twixt the legs<br/> +Dangling his entrails hung, the midriff lay<br/> +Open to view, and wretched ventricle,<br/> +That turns th’ englutted aliment to dross. +</p> + +<p> +Whilst eagerly I fix on him my gaze,<br/> +He ey’d me, with his hands laid his breast bare,<br/> +And cried; “Now mark how I do rip me! lo! +</p> + +<p> +“How is Mohammed mangled! before me<br/> +Walks Ali weeping, from the chin his face<br/> +Cleft to the forelock; and the others all<br/> +Whom here thou seest, while they liv’d, did sow<br/> +Scandal and schism, and therefore thus are rent.<br/> +A fiend is here behind, who with his sword<br/> +Hacks us thus cruelly, slivering again<br/> +Each of this ream, when we have compast round<br/> +The dismal way, for first our gashes close<br/> +Ere we repass before him. But say who<br/> +Art thou, that standest musing on the rock,<br/> +Haply so lingering to delay the pain<br/> +Sentenc’d upon thy crimes?”—“Him death not yet,”<br/> +My guide rejoin’d, “hath overta’en, nor sin<br/> +Conducts to torment; but, that he may make<br/> +Full trial of your state, I who am dead<br/> +Must through the depths of hell, from orb to orb,<br/> +Conduct him. Trust my words, for they are true.” +</p> + +<p> +More than a hundred spirits, when that they heard,<br/> +Stood in the foss to mark me, through amazed,<br/> +Forgetful of their pangs. “Thou, who perchance<br/> +Shalt shortly view the sun, this warning thou<br/> +Bear to Dolcino: bid him, if he wish not<br/> +Here soon to follow me, that with good store<br/> +Of food he arm him, lest impris’ning snows<br/> +Yield him a victim to Novara’s power,<br/> +No easy conquest else.” With foot uprais’d<br/> +For stepping, spake Mohammed, on the ground<br/> +Then fix’d it to depart. Another shade,<br/> +Pierc’d in the throat, his nostrils mutilate<br/> +E’en from beneath the eyebrows, and one ear<br/> +Lopt off, who with the rest through wonder stood<br/> +Gazing, before the rest advanc’d, and bar’d<br/> +His wind-pipe, that without was all o’ersmear’d<br/> +With crimson stain. “O thou!” said he, “whom sin<br/> +Condemns not, and whom erst (unless too near<br/> +Resemblance do deceive me) I aloft<br/> +Have seen on Latian ground, call thou to mind<br/> +Piero of Medicina, if again<br/> +Returning, thou behold’st the pleasant land<br/> +That from Vercelli slopes to Mercabo; +</p> + +<p> +“And there instruct the twain, whom Fano boasts<br/> +Her worthiest sons, Guido and Angelo,<br/> +That if ’t is giv’n us here to scan aright<br/> +The future, they out of life’s tenement<br/> +Shall be cast forth, and whelm’d under the waves<br/> +Near to Cattolica, through perfidy<br/> +Of a fell tyrant. ’Twixt the Cyprian isle<br/> +And Balearic, ne’er hath Neptune seen<br/> +An injury so foul, by pirates done<br/> +Or Argive crew of old. That one-ey’d traitor<br/> +(Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain<br/> +His eye had still lack’d sight of) them shall bring<br/> +To conf’rence with him, then so shape his end,<br/> +That they shall need not ’gainst Focara’s wind<br/> +Offer up vow nor pray’r.” I answering thus: +</p> + +<p> +“Declare, as thou dost wish that I above<br/> +May carry tidings of thee, who is he,<br/> +In whom that sight doth wake such sad remembrance?” +</p> + +<p> +Forthwith he laid his hand on the cheek-bone<br/> +Of one, his fellow-spirit, and his jaws<br/> +Expanding, cried: “Lo! this is he I wot of;<br/> +He speaks not for himself: the outcast this<br/> +Who overwhelm’d the doubt in Caesar’s mind,<br/> +Affirming that delay to men prepar’d<br/> +Was ever harmful.” Oh how terrified<br/> +Methought was Curio, from whose throat was cut<br/> +The tongue, which spake that hardy word. Then one<br/> +Maim’d of each hand, uplifted in the gloom<br/> +The bleeding stumps, that they with gory spots<br/> +Sullied his face, and cried: “‘Remember thee<br/> +Of Mosca, too, I who, alas! exclaim’d,<br/> +‘The deed once done there is an end,’ that prov’d<br/> +A seed of sorrow to the Tuscan race.” +</p> + +<p> +I added: “Ay, and death to thine own tribe.” +</p> + +<p> +Whence heaping woe on woe he hurried off,<br/> +As one grief stung to madness. But I there<br/> +Still linger’d to behold the troop, and saw<br/> +Things, such as I may fear without more proof<br/> +To tell of, but that conscience makes me firm,<br/> +The boon companion, who her strong breast-plate<br/> +Buckles on him, that feels no guilt within<br/> +And bids him on and fear not. Without doubt<br/> +I saw, and yet it seems to pass before me,<br/> +A headless trunk, that even as the rest<br/> +Of the sad flock pac’d onward. By the hair<br/> +It bore the sever’d member, lantern-wise<br/> +Pendent in hand, which look’d at us and said, +</p> + +<p> +“Woe’s me!” The spirit lighted thus himself,<br/> +And two there were in one, and one in two.<br/> +How that may be he knows who ordereth so. +</p> + +<p> +When at the bridge’s foot direct he stood,<br/> +His arm aloft he rear’d, thrusting the head<br/> +Full in our view, that nearer we might hear<br/> +The words, which thus it utter’d: “Now behold<br/> +This grievous torment, thou, who breathing go’st<br/> +To spy the dead; behold if any else<br/> +Be terrible as this. And that on earth<br/> +Thou mayst bear tidings of me, know that I<br/> +Am Bertrand, he of Born, who gave King John<br/> +The counsel mischievous. Father and son<br/> +I set at mutual war. For Absalom<br/> +And David more did not Ahitophel,<br/> +Spurring them on maliciously to strife.<br/> +For parting those so closely knit, my brain<br/> +Parted, alas! I carry from its source,<br/> +That in this trunk inhabits. Thus the law<br/> +Of retribution fiercely works in me.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXIX"></a>CANTO XXIX</h2> + +<p> +So were mine eyes inebriate with view<br/> +Of the vast multitude, whom various wounds<br/> +Disfigur’d, that they long’d to stay and weep. +</p> + +<p> +But Virgil rous’d me: “What yet gazest on?<br/> +Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight below<br/> +Among the maim’d and miserable shades?<br/> +Thou hast not shewn in any chasm beside<br/> +This weakness. Know, if thou wouldst number them<br/> +That two and twenty miles the valley winds<br/> +Its circuit, and already is the moon<br/> +Beneath our feet: the time permitted now<br/> +Is short, and more not seen remains to see.” +</p> + +<p> +“If thou,” I straight replied, “hadst weigh’d the cause<br/> +For which I look’d, thou hadst perchance excus’d<br/> +The tarrying still.” My leader part pursu’d<br/> +His way, the while I follow’d, answering him,<br/> +And adding thus: “Within that cave I deem,<br/> +Whereon so fixedly I held my ken,<br/> +There is a spirit dwells, one of my blood,<br/> +Wailing the crime that costs him now so dear.” +</p> + +<p> +Then spake my master: “Let thy soul no more<br/> +Afflict itself for him. Direct elsewhere<br/> +Its thought, and leave him. At the bridge’s foot<br/> +I mark’d how he did point with menacing look<br/> +At thee, and heard him by the others nam’d<br/> +Geri of Bello. Thou so wholly then<br/> +Wert busied with his spirit, who once rul’d<br/> +The towers of Hautefort, that thou lookedst not<br/> +That way, ere he was gone.”—“O guide belov’d!<br/> +His violent death yet unaveng’d,” said I,<br/> +“By any, who are partners in his shame,<br/> +Made him contemptuous: therefore, as I think,<br/> +He pass’d me speechless by; and doing so<br/> +Hath made me more compassionate his fate.” +</p> + +<p> +So we discours’d to where the rock first show’d<br/> +The other valley, had more light been there,<br/> +E’en to the lowest depth. Soon as we came<br/> +O’er the last cloister in the dismal rounds<br/> +Of Malebolge, and the brotherhood<br/> +Were to our view expos’d, then many a dart<br/> +Of sore lament assail’d me, headed all<br/> +With points of thrilling pity, that I clos’d<br/> +Both ears against the volley with mine hands. +</p> + +<p> +As were the torment, if each lazar-house<br/> +Of Valdichiana, in the sultry time<br/> +’Twixt July and September, with the isle<br/> +Sardinia and Maremma’s pestilent fen,<br/> +Had heap’d their maladies all in one foss<br/> +Together; such was here the torment: dire<br/> +The stench, as issuing steams from fester’d limbs. +</p> + +<p> +We on the utmost shore of the long rock<br/> +Descended still to leftward. Then my sight<br/> +Was livelier to explore the depth, wherein<br/> +The minister of the most mighty Lord,<br/> +All-searching Justice, dooms to punishment<br/> +The forgers noted on her dread record. +</p> + +<p> +More rueful was it not methinks to see<br/> +The nation in Aegina droop, what time<br/> +Each living thing, e’en to the little worm,<br/> +All fell, so full of malice was the air<br/> +(And afterward, as bards of yore have told,<br/> +The ancient people were restor’d anew<br/> +From seed of emmets) than was here to see<br/> +The spirits, that languish’d through the murky vale<br/> +Up-pil’d on many a stack. Confus’d they lay,<br/> +One o’er the belly, o’er the shoulders one<br/> +Roll’d of another; sideling crawl’d a third<br/> +Along the dismal pathway. Step by step<br/> +We journey’d on, in silence looking round<br/> +And list’ning those diseas’d, who strove in vain<br/> +To lift their forms. Then two I mark’d, that sat<br/> +Propp’d ’gainst each other, as two brazen pans<br/> +Set to retain the heat. From head to foot,<br/> +A tetter bark’d them round. Nor saw I e’er<br/> +Groom currying so fast, for whom his lord<br/> +Impatient waited, or himself perchance<br/> +Tir’d with long watching, as of these each one<br/> +Plied quickly his keen nails, through furiousness<br/> +Of ne’er abated pruriency. The crust<br/> +Came drawn from underneath in flakes, like scales<br/> +Scrap’d from the bream or fish of broader mail. +</p> + +<p> +“O thou, who with thy fingers rendest off<br/> +Thy coat of proof,” thus spake my guide to one,<br/> +“And sometimes makest tearing pincers of them,<br/> +Tell me if any born of Latian land<br/> +Be among these within: so may thy nails<br/> +Serve thee for everlasting to this toil.” +</p> + +<p> +“Both are of Latium,” weeping he replied,<br/> +“Whom tortur’d thus thou seest: but who art thou<br/> +That hast inquir’d of us?” To whom my guide:<br/> +“One that descend with this man, who yet lives,<br/> +From rock to rock, and show him hell’s abyss.” +</p> + +<p> +Then started they asunder, and each turn’d<br/> +Trembling toward us, with the rest, whose ear<br/> +Those words redounding struck. To me my liege<br/> +Address’d him: “Speak to them whate’er thou list.” +</p> + +<p> +And I therewith began: “So may no time<br/> +Filch your remembrance from the thoughts of men<br/> +In th’ upper world, but after many suns<br/> +Survive it, as ye tell me, who ye are,<br/> +And of what race ye come. Your punishment,<br/> +Unseemly and disgustful in its kind,<br/> +Deter you not from opening thus much to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Arezzo was my dwelling,” answer’d one,<br/> +“And me Albero of Sienna brought<br/> +To die by fire; but that, for which I died,<br/> +Leads me not here. True is in sport I told him,<br/> +That I had learn’d to wing my flight in air.<br/> +And he admiring much, as he was void<br/> +Of wisdom, will’d me to declare to him<br/> +The secret of mine art: and only hence,<br/> +Because I made him not a Daedalus,<br/> +Prevail’d on one suppos’d his sire to burn me.<br/> +But Minos to this chasm last of the ten,<br/> +For that I practis’d alchemy on earth,<br/> +Has doom’d me. Him no subterfuge eludes.” +</p> + +<p> +Then to the bard I spake: “Was ever race<br/> +Light as Sienna’s? Sure not France herself<br/> +Can show a tribe so frivolous and vain.” +</p> + +<p> +The other leprous spirit heard my words,<br/> +And thus return’d: “Be Stricca from this charge<br/> +Exempted, he who knew so temp’rately<br/> +To lay out fortune’s gifts; and Niccolo<br/> +Who first the spice’s costly luxury<br/> +Discover’d in that garden, where such seed<br/> +Roots deepest in the soil: and be that troop<br/> +Exempted, with whom Caccia of Asciano<br/> +Lavish’d his vineyards and wide-spreading woods,<br/> +And his rare wisdom Abbagliato show’d<br/> +A spectacle for all. That thou mayst know<br/> +Who seconds thee against the Siennese<br/> +Thus gladly, bend this way thy sharpen’d sight,<br/> +That well my face may answer to thy ken;<br/> +So shalt thou see I am Capocchio’s ghost,<br/> +Who forg’d transmuted metals by the power<br/> +Of alchemy; and if I scan thee right,<br/> +Thus needs must well remember how I aped<br/> +Creative nature by my subtle art.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXX"></a>CANTO XXX</h2> + +<p> +What time resentment burn’d in Juno’s breast<br/> +For Semele against the Theban blood,<br/> +As more than once in dire mischance was rued,<br/> +Such fatal frenzy seiz’d on Athamas,<br/> +That he his spouse beholding with a babe<br/> +Laden on either arm, “Spread out,” he cried,<br/> +“The meshes, that I take the lioness<br/> +And the young lions at the pass:” then forth<br/> +Stretch’d he his merciless talons, grasping one,<br/> +One helpless innocent, Learchus nam’d,<br/> +Whom swinging down he dash’d upon a rock,<br/> +And with her other burden self-destroy’d<br/> +The hapless mother plung’d: and when the pride<br/> +Of all-presuming Troy fell from its height,<br/> +By fortune overwhelm’d, and the old king<br/> +With his realm perish’d, then did Hecuba,<br/> +A wretch forlorn and captive, when she saw<br/> +Polyxena first slaughter’d, and her son,<br/> +Her Polydorus, on the wild sea-beach<br/> +Next met the mourner’s view, then reft of sense<br/> +Did she run barking even as a dog;<br/> +Such mighty power had grief to wrench her soul.<br/> +Bet ne’er the Furies or of Thebes or Troy<br/> +With such fell cruelty were seen, their goads<br/> +Infixing in the limbs of man or beast,<br/> +As now two pale and naked ghost I saw<br/> +That gnarling wildly scamper’d, like the swine<br/> +Excluded from his stye. One reach’d Capocchio,<br/> +And in the neck-joint sticking deep his fangs,<br/> +Dragg’d him, that o’er the solid pavement rubb’d<br/> +His belly stretch’d out prone. The other shape,<br/> +He of Arezzo, there left trembling, spake;<br/> +“That sprite of air is Schicchi; in like mood<br/> +Of random mischief vent he still his spite.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom I answ’ring: “Oh! as thou dost hope,<br/> +The other may not flesh its jaws on thee,<br/> +Be patient to inform us, who it is,<br/> +Ere it speed hence.”—“That is the ancient soul<br/> +Of wretched Myrrha,” he replied, “who burn’d<br/> +With most unholy flame for her own sire, +</p> + +<p> +“And a false shape assuming, so perform’d<br/> +The deed of sin; e’en as the other there,<br/> +That onward passes, dar’d to counterfeit<br/> +Donati’s features, to feign’d testament<br/> +The seal affixing, that himself might gain,<br/> +For his own share, the lady of the herd.” +</p> + +<p> +When vanish’d the two furious shades, on whom<br/> +Mine eye was held, I turn’d it back to view<br/> +The other cursed spirits. One I saw<br/> +In fashion like a lute, had but the groin<br/> +Been sever’d, where it meets the forked part.<br/> +Swoln dropsy, disproportioning the limbs<br/> +With ill-converted moisture, that the paunch<br/> +Suits not the visage, open’d wide his lips<br/> +Gasping as in the hectic man for drought,<br/> +One towards the chin, the other upward curl’d. +</p> + +<p> +“O ye, who in this world of misery,<br/> +Wherefore I know not, are exempt from pain,”<br/> +Thus he began, “attentively regard<br/> +Adamo’s woe. When living, full supply<br/> +Ne’er lack’d me of what most I coveted;<br/> +One drop of water now, alas! I crave.<br/> +The rills, that glitter down the grassy slopes<br/> +Of Casentino, making fresh and soft<br/> +The banks whereby they glide to Arno’s stream,<br/> +Stand ever in my view; and not in vain;<br/> +For more the pictur’d semblance dries me up,<br/> +Much more than the disease, which makes the flesh<br/> +Desert these shrivel’d cheeks. So from the place,<br/> +Where I transgress’d, stern justice urging me,<br/> +Takes means to quicken more my lab’ring sighs.<br/> +There is Romena, where I falsified<br/> +The metal with the Baptist’s form imprest,<br/> +For which on earth I left my body burnt.<br/> +But if I here might see the sorrowing soul<br/> +Of Guido, Alessandro, or their brother,<br/> +For Branda’s limpid spring I would not change<br/> +The welcome sight. One is e’en now within,<br/> +If truly the mad spirits tell, that round<br/> +Are wand’ring. But wherein besteads me that?<br/> +My limbs are fetter’d. Were I but so light,<br/> +That I each hundred years might move one inch,<br/> +I had set forth already on this path,<br/> +Seeking him out amidst the shapeless crew,<br/> +Although eleven miles it wind, not more<br/> +Than half of one across. They brought me down<br/> +Among this tribe; induc’d by them I stamp’d<br/> +The florens with three carats of alloy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who are that abject pair,” I next inquir’d,<br/> +“That closely bounding thee upon thy right<br/> +Lie smoking, like a band in winter steep’d<br/> +In the chill stream?”—“When to this gulf I dropt,”<br/> +He answer’d, “here I found them; since that hour<br/> +They have not turn’d, nor ever shall, I ween,<br/> +Till time hath run his course. One is that dame<br/> +The false accuser of the Hebrew youth;<br/> +Sinon the other, that false Greek from Troy.<br/> +Sharp fever drains the reeky moistness out,<br/> +In such a cloud upsteam’d.” When that he heard,<br/> +One, gall’d perchance to be so darkly nam’d,<br/> +With clench’d hand smote him on the braced paunch,<br/> +That like a drum resounded: but forthwith<br/> +Adamo smote him on the face, the blow<br/> +Returning with his arm, that seem’d as hard. +</p> + +<p> +“Though my o’erweighty limbs have ta’en from me<br/> +The power to move,” said he, “I have an arm<br/> +At liberty for such employ.” To whom<br/> +Was answer’d: “When thou wentest to the fire,<br/> +Thou hadst it not so ready at command,<br/> +Then readier when it coin’d th’ impostor gold.” +</p> + +<p> +And thus the dropsied: “Ay, now speak’st thou true.<br/> +But there thou gav’st not such true testimony,<br/> +When thou wast question’d of the truth, at Troy.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I spake false, thou falsely stamp’dst the coin,”<br/> +Said Sinon; “I am here but for one fault,<br/> +And thou for more than any imp beside.” +</p> + +<p> +“Remember,” he replied, “O perjur’d one,<br/> +The horse remember, that did teem with death,<br/> +And all the world be witness to thy guilt.” +</p> + +<p> +“To thine,” return’d the Greek, “witness the thirst<br/> +Whence thy tongue cracks, witness the fluid mound,<br/> +Rear’d by thy belly up before thine eyes,<br/> +A mass corrupt.” To whom the coiner thus:<br/> +“Thy mouth gapes wide as ever to let pass<br/> +Its evil saying. Me if thirst assails,<br/> +Yet I am stuff’d with moisture. Thou art parch’d,<br/> +Pains rack thy head, no urging would’st thou need<br/> +To make thee lap Narcissus’ mirror up.” +</p> + +<p> +I was all fix’d to listen, when my guide<br/> +Admonish’d: “Now beware: a little more.<br/> +And I do quarrel with thee.” I perceiv’d<br/> +How angrily he spake, and towards him turn’d<br/> +With shame so poignant, as remember’d yet<br/> +Confounds me. As a man that dreams of harm<br/> +Befall’n him, dreaming wishes it a dream,<br/> +And that which is, desires as if it were not,<br/> +Such then was I, who wanting power to speak<br/> +Wish’d to excuse myself, and all the while<br/> +Excus’d me, though unweeting that I did. +</p> + +<p> +“More grievous fault than thine has been, less shame,”<br/> +My master cried, “might expiate. Therefore cast<br/> +All sorrow from thy soul; and if again<br/> +Chance bring thee, where like conference is held,<br/> +Think I am ever at thy side. To hear<br/> +Such wrangling is a joy for vulgar minds.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXXI"></a>CANTO XXXI</h2> + +<p> +The very tongue, whose keen reproof before<br/> +Had wounded me, that either cheek was stain’d,<br/> +Now minister’d my cure. So have I heard,<br/> +Achilles and his father’s javelin caus’d<br/> +Pain first, and then the boon of health restor’d. +</p> + +<p> +Turning our back upon the vale of woe,<br/> +W cross’d th’ encircled mound in silence. There<br/> +Was twilight dim, that far long the gloom<br/> +Mine eye advanc’d not: but I heard a horn<br/> +Sounded aloud. The peal it blew had made<br/> +The thunder feeble. Following its course<br/> +The adverse way, my strained eyes were bent<br/> +On that one spot. So terrible a blast<br/> +Orlando blew not, when that dismal rout<br/> +O’erthrew the host of Charlemagne, and quench’d<br/> +His saintly warfare. Thitherward not long<br/> +My head was rais’d, when many lofty towers<br/> +Methought I spied. “Master,” said I, “what land<br/> +Is this?” He answer’d straight: “Too long a space<br/> +Of intervening darkness has thine eye<br/> +To traverse: thou hast therefore widely err’d<br/> +In thy imagining. Thither arriv’d<br/> +Thou well shalt see, how distance can delude<br/> +The sense. A little therefore urge thee on.” +</p> + +<p> +Then tenderly he caught me by the hand;<br/> +“Yet know,” said he, “ere farther we advance,<br/> +That it less strange may seem, these are not towers,<br/> +But giants. In the pit they stand immers’d,<br/> +Each from his navel downward, round the bank.” +</p> + +<p> +As when a fog disperseth gradually,<br/> +Our vision traces what the mist involves<br/> +Condens’d in air; so piercing through the gross<br/> +And gloomy atmosphere, as more and more<br/> +We near’d toward the brink, mine error fled,<br/> +And fear came o’er me. As with circling round<br/> +Of turrets, Montereggion crowns his walls,<br/> +E’en thus the shore, encompassing th’ abyss,<br/> +Was turreted with giants, half their length<br/> +Uprearing, horrible, whom Jove from heav’n<br/> +Yet threatens, when his mutt’ring thunder rolls. +</p> + +<p> +Of one already I descried the face,<br/> +Shoulders, and breast, and of the belly huge<br/> +Great part, and both arms down along his ribs. +</p> + +<p> +All-teeming nature, when her plastic hand<br/> +Left framing of these monsters, did display<br/> +Past doubt her wisdom, taking from mad War<br/> +Such slaves to do his bidding; and if she<br/> +Repent her not of th’ elephant and whale,<br/> +Who ponders well confesses her therein<br/> +Wiser and more discreet; for when brute force<br/> +And evil will are back’d with subtlety,<br/> +Resistance none avails. His visage seem’d<br/> +In length and bulk, as doth the pine, that tops<br/> +Saint Peter’s Roman fane; and th’ other bones<br/> +Of like proportion, so that from above<br/> +The bank, which girdled him below, such height<br/> +Arose his stature, that three Friezelanders<br/> +Had striv’n in vain to reach but to his hair.<br/> +Full thirty ample palms was he expos’d<br/> +Downward from whence a man his garments loops.<br/> +“Raphel bai ameth sabi almi,”<br/> +So shouted his fierce lips, which sweeter hymns<br/> +Became not; and my guide address’d him thus: +</p> + +<p> +“O senseless spirit! let thy horn for thee<br/> +Interpret: therewith vent thy rage, if rage<br/> +Or other passion wring thee. Search thy neck,<br/> +There shalt thou find the belt that binds it on.<br/> +Wild spirit! lo, upon thy mighty breast<br/> +Where hangs the baldrick!” Then to me he spake:<br/> +“He doth accuse himself. Nimrod is this,<br/> +Through whose ill counsel in the world no more<br/> +One tongue prevails. But pass we on, nor waste<br/> +Our words; for so each language is to him,<br/> +As his to others, understood by none.” +</p> + +<p> +Then to the leftward turning sped we forth,<br/> +And at a sling’s throw found another shade<br/> +Far fiercer and more huge. I cannot say<br/> +What master hand had girt him; but he held<br/> +Behind the right arm fetter’d, and before<br/> +The other with a chain, that fasten’d him<br/> +From the neck down, and five times round his form<br/> +Apparent met the wreathed links. “This proud one<br/> +Would of his strength against almighty Jove<br/> +Make trial,” said my guide; “whence he is thus<br/> +Requited: Ephialtes him they call. +</p> + +<p> +“Great was his prowess, when the giants brought<br/> +Fear on the gods: those arms, which then he piled,<br/> +Now moves he never.” Forthwith I return’d:<br/> +“Fain would I, if ’t were possible, mine eyes<br/> +Of Briareus immeasurable gain’d<br/> +Experience next.” He answer’d: “Thou shalt see<br/> +Not far from hence Antaeus, who both speaks<br/> +And is unfetter’d, who shall place us there<br/> +Where guilt is at its depth. Far onward stands<br/> +Whom thou wouldst fain behold, in chains, and made<br/> +Like to this spirit, save that in his looks<br/> +More fell he seems.” By violent earthquake rock’d<br/> +Ne’er shook a tow’r, so reeling to its base,<br/> +As Ephialtes. More than ever then<br/> +I dreaded death, nor than the terror more<br/> +Had needed, if I had not seen the cords<br/> +That held him fast. We, straightway journeying on,<br/> +Came to Antaeus, who five ells complete<br/> +Without the head, forth issued from the cave. +</p> + +<p> +“O thou, who in the fortunate vale, that made<br/> +Great Scipio heir of glory, when his sword<br/> +Drove back the troop of Hannibal in flight,<br/> +Who thence of old didst carry for thy spoil<br/> +An hundred lions; and if thou hadst fought<br/> +In the high conflict on thy brethren’s side,<br/> +Seems as men yet believ’d, that through thine arm<br/> +The sons of earth had conquer’d, now vouchsafe<br/> +To place us down beneath, where numbing cold<br/> +Locks up Cocytus. Force not that we crave<br/> +Or Tityus’ help or Typhon’s. Here is one<br/> +Can give what in this realm ye covet. Stoop<br/> +Therefore, nor scornfully distort thy lip.<br/> +He in the upper world can yet bestow<br/> +Renown on thee, for he doth live, and looks<br/> +For life yet longer, if before the time<br/> +Grace call him not unto herself.” Thus spake<br/> +The teacher. He in haste forth stretch’d his hands,<br/> +And caught my guide. Alcides whilom felt<br/> +That grapple straighten’d score. Soon as my guide<br/> +Had felt it, he bespake me thus: “This way<br/> +That I may clasp thee;” then so caught me up,<br/> +That we were both one burden. As appears<br/> +The tower of Carisenda, from beneath<br/> +Where it doth lean, if chance a passing cloud<br/> +So sail across, that opposite it hangs,<br/> +Such then Antaeus seem’d, as at mine ease<br/> +I mark’d him stooping. I were fain at times<br/> +T’ have pass’d another way. Yet in th’ abyss,<br/> +That Lucifer with Judas low ingulfs,<br/> +Lightly he plac’d us; nor there leaning stay’d,<br/> +But rose as in a bark the stately mast. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXXII"></a>CANTO XXXII</h2> + +<p> +Could I command rough rhimes and hoarse, to suit<br/> +That hole of sorrow, o’er which ev’ry rock<br/> +His firm abutment rears, then might the vein<br/> +Of fancy rise full springing: but not mine<br/> +Such measures, and with falt’ring awe I touch<br/> +The mighty theme; for to describe the depth<br/> +Of all the universe, is no emprize<br/> +To jest with, and demands a tongue not us’d<br/> +To infant babbling. But let them assist<br/> +My song, the tuneful maidens, by whose aid<br/> +Amphion wall’d in Thebes, so with the truth<br/> +My speech shall best accord. Oh ill-starr’d folk,<br/> +Beyond all others wretched! who abide<br/> +In such a mansion, as scarce thought finds words<br/> +To speak of, better had ye here on earth<br/> +Been flocks or mountain goats. As down we stood<br/> +In the dark pit beneath the giants’ feet,<br/> +But lower far than they, and I did gaze<br/> +Still on the lofty battlement, a voice<br/> +Bespoke me thus: “Look how thou walkest. Take<br/> +Good heed, thy soles do tread not on the heads<br/> +Of thy poor brethren.” Thereupon I turn’d,<br/> +And saw before and underneath my feet<br/> +A lake, whose frozen surface liker seem’d<br/> +To glass than water. Not so thick a veil<br/> +In winter e’er hath Austrian Danube spread<br/> +O’er his still course, nor Tanais far remote<br/> +Under the chilling sky. Roll’d o’er that mass<br/> +Had Tabernich or Pietrapana fall’n, +</p> + +<p> +Not e’en its rim had creak’d. As peeps the frog<br/> +Croaking above the wave, what time in dreams<br/> +The village gleaner oft pursues her toil,<br/> +So, to where modest shame appears, thus low<br/> +Blue pinch’d and shrin’d in ice the spirits stood,<br/> +Moving their teeth in shrill note like the stork.<br/> +His face each downward held; their mouth the cold,<br/> +Their eyes express’d the dolour of their heart. +</p> + +<p> +A space I look’d around, then at my feet<br/> +Saw two so strictly join’d, that of their head<br/> +The very hairs were mingled. “Tell me ye,<br/> +Whose bosoms thus together press,” said I,<br/> +“Who are ye?” At that sound their necks they bent,<br/> +And when their looks were lifted up to me,<br/> +Straightway their eyes, before all moist within,<br/> +Distill’d upon their lips, and the frost bound<br/> +The tears betwixt those orbs and held them there.<br/> +Plank unto plank hath never cramp clos’d up<br/> +So stoutly. Whence like two enraged goats<br/> +They clash’d together; them such fury seiz’d. +</p> + +<p> +And one, from whom the cold both ears had reft,<br/> +Exclaim’d, still looking downward: “Why on us<br/> +Dost speculate so long? If thou wouldst know<br/> +Who are these two, the valley, whence his wave<br/> +Bisenzio slopes, did for its master own<br/> +Their sire Alberto, and next him themselves.<br/> +They from one body issued; and throughout<br/> +Caina thou mayst search, nor find a shade<br/> +More worthy in congealment to be fix’d,<br/> +Not him, whose breast and shadow Arthur’s land<br/> +At that one blow dissever’d, not Focaccia,<br/> +No not this spirit, whose o’erjutting head<br/> +Obstructs my onward view: he bore the name<br/> +Of Mascheroni: Tuscan if thou be,<br/> +Well knowest who he was: and to cut short<br/> +All further question, in my form behold<br/> +What once was Camiccione. I await<br/> +Carlino here my kinsman, whose deep guilt<br/> +Shall wash out mine.” A thousand visages<br/> +Then mark’d I, which the keen and eager cold<br/> +Had shap’d into a doggish grin; whence creeps<br/> +A shiv’ring horror o’er me, at the thought<br/> +Of those frore shallows. While we journey’d on<br/> +Toward the middle, at whose point unites<br/> +All heavy substance, and I trembling went<br/> +Through that eternal chillness, I know not<br/> +If will it were or destiny, or chance,<br/> +But, passing ’midst the heads, my foot did strike<br/> +With violent blow against the face of one. +</p> + +<p> +“Wherefore dost bruise me?” weeping, he exclaim’d,<br/> +“Unless thy errand be some fresh revenge<br/> +For Montaperto, wherefore troublest me?” +</p> + +<p> +I thus: “Instructor, now await me here,<br/> +That I through him may rid me of my doubt.<br/> +Thenceforth what haste thou wilt.” The teacher paus’d,<br/> +And to that shade I spake, who bitterly<br/> +Still curs’d me in his wrath. “What art thou, speak,<br/> +That railest thus on others?” He replied:<br/> +“Now who art thou, that smiting others’ cheeks<br/> +Through Antenora roamest, with such force<br/> +As were past suff’rance, wert thou living still?” +</p> + +<p> +“And I am living, to thy joy perchance,”<br/> +Was my reply, “if fame be dear to thee,<br/> +That with the rest I may thy name enrol.” +</p> + +<p> +“The contrary of what I covet most,”<br/> +Said he, “thou tender’st: hence; nor vex me more.<br/> +Ill knowest thou to flatter in this vale.” +</p> + +<p> +Then seizing on his hinder scalp, I cried:<br/> +“Name thee, or not a hair shall tarry here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Rend all away,” he answer’d, “yet for that<br/> +I will not tell nor show thee who I am,<br/> +Though at my head thou pluck a thousand times.” +</p> + +<p> +Now I had grasp’d his tresses, and stript off<br/> +More than one tuft, he barking, with his eyes<br/> +Drawn in and downward, when another cried,<br/> +“What ails thee, Bocca? Sound not loud enough<br/> +Thy chatt’ring teeth, but thou must bark outright?<br/> +What devil wrings thee?”—“Now,” said I, “be dumb,<br/> +Accursed traitor! to thy shame of thee<br/> +True tidings will I bear.”—“Off,” he replied,<br/> +“Tell what thou list; but as thou escape from hence<br/> +To speak of him whose tongue hath been so glib,<br/> +Forget not: here he wails the Frenchman’s gold.<br/> +‘Him of Duera,’ thou canst say, ‘I mark’d,<br/> +Where the starv’d sinners pine.’ If thou be ask’d<br/> +What other shade was with them, at thy side<br/> +Is Beccaria, whose red gorge distain’d<br/> +The biting axe of Florence. Farther on,<br/> +If I misdeem not, Soldanieri bides,<br/> +With Ganellon, and Tribaldello, him<br/> +Who op’d Faenza when the people slept.” +</p> + +<p> +We now had left him, passing on our way,<br/> +When I beheld two spirits by the ice<br/> +Pent in one hollow, that the head of one<br/> +Was cowl unto the other; and as bread<br/> +Is raven’d up through hunger, th’ uppermost<br/> +Did so apply his fangs to th’ other’s brain,<br/> +Where the spine joins it. Not more furiously<br/> +On Menalippus’ temples Tydeus gnaw’d,<br/> +Than on that skull and on its garbage he. +</p> + +<p> +“O thou who show’st so beastly sign of hate<br/> +’Gainst him thou prey’st on, let me hear,” said I<br/> +“The cause, on such condition, that if right<br/> +Warrant thy grievance, knowing who ye are,<br/> +And what the colour of his sinning was,<br/> +I may repay thee in the world above,<br/> +If that, wherewith I speak be moist so long.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXXIII"></a>CANTO XXXIII</h2> + +<p> +His jaws uplifting from their fell repast,<br/> +That sinner wip’d them on the hairs o’ th’ head,<br/> +Which he behind had mangled, then began:<br/> +“Thy will obeying, I call up afresh<br/> +Sorrow past cure, which but to think of wrings<br/> +My heart, or ere I tell on’t. But if words,<br/> +That I may utter, shall prove seed to bear<br/> +Fruit of eternal infamy to him,<br/> +The traitor whom I gnaw at, thou at once<br/> +Shalt see me speak and weep. Who thou mayst be<br/> +I know not, nor how here below art come:<br/> +But Florentine thou seemest of a truth,<br/> +When I do hear thee. Know I was on earth<br/> +Count Ugolino, and th’ Archbishop he<br/> +Ruggieri. Why I neighbour him so close,<br/> +Now list. That through effect of his ill thoughts<br/> +In him my trust reposing, I was ta’en<br/> +And after murder’d, need is not I tell.<br/> +What therefore thou canst not have heard, that is,<br/> +How cruel was the murder, shalt thou hear,<br/> +And know if he have wrong’d me. A small grate<br/> +Within that mew, which for my sake the name<br/> +Of famine bears, where others yet must pine,<br/> +Already through its opening sev’ral moons<br/> +Had shown me, when I slept the evil sleep,<br/> +That from the future tore the curtain off.<br/> +This one, methought, as master of the sport,<br/> +Rode forth to chase the gaunt wolf and his whelps<br/> +Unto the mountain, which forbids the sight<br/> +Of Lucca to the Pisan. With lean brachs<br/> +Inquisitive and keen, before him rang’d<br/> +Lanfranchi with Sismondi and Gualandi.<br/> +After short course the father and the sons<br/> +Seem’d tir’d and lagging, and methought I saw<br/> +The sharp tusks gore their sides. When I awoke<br/> +Before the dawn, amid their sleep I heard<br/> +My sons (for they were with me) weep and ask<br/> +For bread. Right cruel art thou, if no pang<br/> +Thou feel at thinking what my heart foretold;<br/> +And if not now, why use thy tears to flow?<br/> +Now had they waken’d; and the hour drew near<br/> +When they were wont to bring us food; the mind<br/> +Of each misgave him through his dream, and I<br/> +Heard, at its outlet underneath lock’d up<br/> +The’ horrible tower: whence uttering not a word<br/> +I look’d upon the visage of my sons.<br/> +I wept not: so all stone I felt within.<br/> +They wept: and one, my little Anslem, cried:<br/> +“Thou lookest so! Father what ails thee?” Yet<br/> +I shed no tear, nor answer’d all that day<br/> +Nor the next night, until another sun<br/> +Came out upon the world. When a faint beam<br/> +Had to our doleful prison made its way,<br/> +And in four countenances I descry’d<br/> +The image of my own, on either hand<br/> +Through agony I bit, and they who thought<br/> +I did it through desire of feeding, rose<br/> +O’ th’ sudden, and cried, ‘Father, we should grieve<br/> +Far less, if thou wouldst eat of us: thou gav’st<br/> +These weeds of miserable flesh we wear, +</p> + +<p> +‘And do thou strip them off from us again.’<br/> +Then, not to make them sadder, I kept down<br/> +My spirit in stillness. That day and the next<br/> +We all were silent. Ah, obdurate earth!<br/> +Why open’dst not upon us? When we came<br/> +To the fourth day, then Geddo at my feet<br/> +Outstretch’d did fling him, crying, ‘Hast no help<br/> +For me, my father!’ There he died, and e’en<br/> +Plainly as thou seest me, saw I the three<br/> +Fall one by one ’twixt the fifth day and sixth: +</p> + +<p> +“Whence I betook me now grown blind to grope<br/> +Over them all, and for three days aloud<br/> +Call’d on them who were dead. Then fasting got<br/> +The mastery of grief.” Thus having spoke, +</p> + +<p> +Once more upon the wretched skull his teeth<br/> +He fasten’d, like a mastiff’s ’gainst the bone<br/> +Firm and unyielding. Oh thou Pisa! shame<br/> +Of all the people, who their dwelling make<br/> +In that fair region, where th’ Italian voice<br/> +Is heard, since that thy neighbours are so slack<br/> +To punish, from their deep foundations rise<br/> +Capraia and Gorgona, and dam up<br/> +The mouth of Arno, that each soul in thee<br/> +May perish in the waters! What if fame<br/> +Reported that thy castles were betray’d<br/> +By Ugolino, yet no right hadst thou<br/> +To stretch his children on the rack. For them,<br/> +Brigata, Ugaccione, and the pair<br/> +Of gentle ones, of whom my song hath told,<br/> +Their tender years, thou modern Thebes! did make<br/> +Uncapable of guilt. Onward we pass’d,<br/> +Where others skarf’d in rugged folds of ice<br/> +Not on their feet were turn’d, but each revers’d. +</p> + +<p> +There very weeping suffers not to weep;<br/> +For at their eyes grief seeking passage finds<br/> +Impediment, and rolling inward turns<br/> +For increase of sharp anguish: the first tears<br/> +Hang cluster’d, and like crystal vizors show,<br/> +Under the socket brimming all the cup. +</p> + +<p> +Now though the cold had from my face dislodg’d<br/> +Each feeling, as ’t were callous, yet me seem’d<br/> +Some breath of wind I felt. “Whence cometh this,”<br/> +Said I, “my master? Is not here below<br/> +All vapour quench’d?”—“‘Thou shalt be speedily,”<br/> +He answer’d, “where thine eye shall tell thee whence<br/> +The cause descrying of this airy shower.” +</p> + +<p> +Then cried out one in the chill crust who mourn’d:<br/> +“O souls so cruel! that the farthest post<br/> +Hath been assign’d you, from this face remove<br/> +The harden’d veil, that I may vent the grief<br/> +Impregnate at my heart, some little space<br/> +Ere it congeal again!” I thus replied:<br/> +“Say who thou wast, if thou wouldst have mine aid;<br/> +And if I extricate thee not, far down<br/> +As to the lowest ice may I descend!” +</p> + +<p> +“The friar Alberigo,” answered he,<br/> +“Am I, who from the evil garden pluck’d<br/> +Its fruitage, and am here repaid, the date<br/> +More luscious for my fig.”—“Hah!” I exclaim’d,<br/> +“Art thou too dead!”—“How in the world aloft<br/> +It fareth with my body,” answer’d he,<br/> +“I am right ignorant. Such privilege<br/> +Hath Ptolomea, that ofttimes the soul<br/> +Drops hither, ere by Atropos divorc’d.<br/> +And that thou mayst wipe out more willingly<br/> +The glazed tear-drops that o’erlay mine eyes,<br/> +Know that the soul, that moment she betrays,<br/> +As I did, yields her body to a fiend<br/> +Who after moves and governs it at will,<br/> +Till all its time be rounded; headlong she<br/> +Falls to this cistern. And perchance above<br/> +Doth yet appear the body of a ghost,<br/> +Who here behind me winters. Him thou know’st,<br/> +If thou but newly art arriv’d below.<br/> +The years are many that have pass’d away,<br/> +Since to this fastness Branca Doria came.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” answer’d I, “methinks thou mockest me,<br/> +For Branca Doria never yet hath died,<br/> +But doth all natural functions of a man,<br/> +Eats, drinks, and sleeps, and putteth raiment on.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus: “Not yet unto that upper foss<br/> +By th’ evil talons guarded, where the pitch<br/> +Tenacious boils, had Michael Zanche reach’d,<br/> +When this one left a demon in his stead<br/> +In his own body, and of one his kin,<br/> +Who with him treachery wrought. But now put forth<br/> +Thy hand, and ope mine eyes.” I op’d them not.<br/> +Ill manners were best courtesy to him. +</p> + +<p> +Ah Genoese! men perverse in every way,<br/> +With every foulness stain’d, why from the earth<br/> +Are ye not cancel’d? Such an one of yours<br/> +I with Romagna’s darkest spirit found,<br/> +As for his doings even now in soul<br/> +Is in Cocytus plung’d, and yet doth seem<br/> +In body still alive upon the earth. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="cantoI.XXXIV"></a>CANTO XXXIV</h2> + +<p> +“The banners of Hell’s Monarch do come forth<br/> +Towards us; therefore look,” so spake my guide,<br/> +“If thou discern him.” As, when breathes a cloud<br/> +Heavy and dense, or when the shades of night<br/> +Fall on our hemisphere, seems view’d from far<br/> +A windmill, which the blast stirs briskly round,<br/> +Such was the fabric then methought I saw, +</p> + +<p> +To shield me from the wind, forthwith I drew<br/> +Behind my guide: no covert else was there. +</p> + +<p> +Now came I (and with fear I bid my strain<br/> +Record the marvel) where the souls were all<br/> +Whelm’d underneath, transparent, as through glass<br/> +Pellucid the frail stem. Some prone were laid,<br/> +Others stood upright, this upon the soles,<br/> +That on his head, a third with face to feet<br/> +Arch’d like a bow. When to the point we came,<br/> +Whereat my guide was pleas’d that I should see<br/> +The creature eminent in beauty once,<br/> +He from before me stepp’d and made me pause. +</p> + +<p> +“Lo!” he exclaim’d, “lo Dis! and lo the place,<br/> +Where thou hast need to arm thy heart with strength.” +</p> + +<p> +How frozen and how faint I then became,<br/> +Ask me not, reader! for I write it not,<br/> +Since words would fail to tell thee of my state.<br/> +I was not dead nor living. Think thyself<br/> +If quick conception work in thee at all,<br/> +How I did feel. That emperor, who sways<br/> +The realm of sorrow, at mid breast from th’ ice<br/> +Stood forth; and I in stature am more like<br/> +A giant, than the giants are in his arms.<br/> +Mark now how great that whole must be, which suits<br/> +With such a part. If he were beautiful<br/> +As he is hideous now, and yet did dare<br/> +To scowl upon his Maker, well from him<br/> +May all our mis’ry flow. Oh what a sight!<br/> +How passing strange it seem’d, when I did spy<br/> +Upon his head three faces: one in front<br/> +Of hue vermilion, th’ other two with this<br/> +Midway each shoulder join’d and at the crest;<br/> +The right ’twixt wan and yellow seem’d: the left<br/> +To look on, such as come from whence old Nile<br/> +Stoops to the lowlands. Under each shot forth<br/> +Two mighty wings, enormous as became<br/> +A bird so vast. Sails never such I saw<br/> +Outstretch’d on the wide sea. No plumes had they,<br/> +But were in texture like a bat, and these<br/> +He flapp’d i’ th’ air, that from him issued still<br/> +Three winds, wherewith Cocytus to its depth<br/> +Was frozen. At six eyes he wept: the tears<br/> +Adown three chins distill’d with bloody foam.<br/> +At every mouth his teeth a sinner champ’d<br/> +Bruis’d as with pond’rous engine, so that three<br/> +Were in this guise tormented. But far more<br/> +Than from that gnawing, was the foremost pang’d<br/> +By the fierce rending, whence ofttimes the back<br/> +Was stript of all its skin. “That upper spirit,<br/> +Who hath worse punishment,” so spake my guide,<br/> +“Is Judas, he that hath his head within<br/> +And plies the feet without. Of th’ other two,<br/> +Whose heads are under, from the murky jaw<br/> +Who hangs, is Brutus: lo! how he doth writhe<br/> +And speaks not! Th’ other Cassius, that appears<br/> +So large of limb. But night now re-ascends,<br/> +And it is time for parting. All is seen.” +</p> + +<p> +I clipp’d him round the neck, for so he bade;<br/> +And noting time and place, he, when the wings<br/> +Enough were op’d, caught fast the shaggy sides,<br/> +And down from pile to pile descending stepp’d<br/> +Between the thick fell and the jagged ice. +</p> + +<p> +Soon as he reach’d the point, whereat the thigh<br/> +Upon the swelling of the haunches turns,<br/> +My leader there with pain and struggling hard<br/> +Turn’d round his head, where his feet stood before,<br/> +And grappled at the fell, as one who mounts,<br/> +That into hell methought we turn’d again. +</p> + +<p> +“Expect that by such stairs as these,” thus spake<br/> +The teacher, panting like a man forespent,<br/> +“We must depart from evil so extreme.”<br/> +Then at a rocky opening issued forth,<br/> +And plac’d me on a brink to sit, next join’d<br/> +With wary step my side. I rais’d mine eyes,<br/> +Believing that I Lucifer should see<br/> +Where he was lately left, but saw him now<br/> +With legs held upward. Let the grosser sort,<br/> +Who see not what the point was I had pass’d,<br/> +Bethink them if sore toil oppress’d me then. +</p> + +<p> +“Arise,” my master cried, “upon thy feet.<br/> +The way is long, and much uncouth the road;<br/> +And now within one hour and half of noon<br/> +The sun returns.” It was no palace-hall<br/> +Lofty and luminous wherein we stood,<br/> +But natural dungeon where ill footing was<br/> +And scant supply of light. “Ere from th’ abyss<br/> +I sep’rate,” thus when risen I began,<br/> +“My guide! vouchsafe few words to set me free<br/> +From error’s thralldom. Where is now the ice?<br/> +How standeth he in posture thus revers’d?<br/> +And how from eve to morn in space so brief<br/> +Hath the sun made his transit?” He in few<br/> +Thus answering spake: “Thou deemest thou art still<br/> +On th’ other side the centre, where I grasp’d<br/> +Th’ abhorred worm, that boreth through the world.<br/> +Thou wast on th’ other side, so long as I<br/> +Descended; when I turn’d, thou didst o’erpass<br/> +That point, to which from ev’ry part is dragg’d<br/> +All heavy substance. Thou art now arriv’d<br/> +Under the hemisphere opposed to that,<br/> +Which the great continent doth overspread,<br/> +And underneath whose canopy expir’d<br/> +The Man, that was born sinless, and so liv’d.<br/> +Thy feet are planted on the smallest sphere,<br/> +Whose other aspect is Judecca. Morn<br/> +Here rises, when there evening sets: and he,<br/> +Whose shaggy pile was scal’d, yet standeth fix’d,<br/> +As at the first. On this part he fell down<br/> +From heav’n; and th’ earth, here prominent before,<br/> +Through fear of him did veil her with the sea,<br/> +And to our hemisphere retir’d. Perchance<br/> +To shun him was the vacant space left here<br/> +By what of firm land on this side appears,<br/> +That sprang aloof.” There is a place beneath,<br/> +From Belzebub as distant, as extends<br/> +The vaulted tomb, discover’d not by sight,<br/> +But by the sound of brooklet, that descends<br/> +This way along the hollow of a rock,<br/> +Which, as it winds with no precipitous course,<br/> +The wave hath eaten. By that hidden way<br/> +My guide and I did enter, to return<br/> +To the fair world: and heedless of repose<br/> +We climbed, he first, I following his steps,<br/> +Till on our view the beautiful lights of heav’n<br/> +Dawn’d through a circular opening in the cave:<br/> +Thus issuing we again beheld the stars. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DIVINE COMEDY, HELL ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Hell + The Inferno from The Divine Comedy + +Author: Dante Alighieri + +Release Date: August 7, 2004 [EBook #1005] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HELL *** + + + + +Produced by Judith Smith and Natalie Salter + + + + +HELL + +OR THE INFERNO FROM THE DIVINE COMEDY + +BY + +DANTE ALIGHIERI + + + +TRANSLATED BY + +THE REV. H. F. CARY, M.A. + + + + + +HELL + + +Cantos 1 - 34 + + + +CANTO I + + +IN the midway of this our mortal life, +I found me in a gloomy wood, astray +Gone from the path direct: and e'en to tell +It were no easy task, how savage wild +That forest, how robust and rough its growth, +Which to remember only, my dismay +Renews, in bitterness not far from death. +Yet to discourse of what there good befell, +All else will I relate discover'd there. +How first I enter'd it I scarce can say, +Such sleepy dullness in that instant weigh'd +My senses down, when the true path I left, +But when a mountain's foot I reach'd, where clos'd +The valley, that had pierc'd my heart with dread, +I look'd aloft, and saw his shoulders broad +Already vested with that planet's beam, +Who leads all wanderers safe through every way. + +Then was a little respite to the fear, +That in my heart's recesses deep had lain, +All of that night, so pitifully pass'd: +And as a man, with difficult short breath, +Forespent with toiling, 'scap'd from sea to shore, +Turns to the perilous wide waste, and stands +At gaze; e'en so my spirit, that yet fail'd +Struggling with terror, turn'd to view the straits, +That none hath pass'd and liv'd. My weary frame +After short pause recomforted, again +I journey'd on over that lonely steep, + +The hinder foot still firmer. Scarce the ascent +Began, when, lo! a panther, nimble, light, +And cover'd with a speckled skin, appear'd, +Nor, when it saw me, vanish'd, rather strove +To check my onward going; that ofttimes +With purpose to retrace my steps I turn'd. + +The hour was morning's prime, and on his way +Aloft the sun ascended with those stars, +That with him rose, when Love divine first mov'd +Those its fair works: so that with joyous hope +All things conspir'd to fill me, the gay skin +Of that swift animal, the matin dawn +And the sweet season. Soon that joy was chas'd, +And by new dread succeeded, when in view +A lion came, 'gainst me, as it appear'd, + +With his head held aloft and hunger-mad, +That e'en the air was fear-struck. A she-wolf +Was at his heels, who in her leanness seem'd +Full of all wants, and many a land hath made +Disconsolate ere now. She with such fear +O'erwhelmed me, at the sight of her appall'd, +That of the height all hope I lost. As one, +Who with his gain elated, sees the time +When all unwares is gone, he inwardly +Mourns with heart-griping anguish; such was I, +Haunted by that fell beast, never at peace, +Who coming o'er against me, by degrees +Impell'd me where the sun in silence rests. + +While to the lower space with backward step +I fell, my ken discern'd the form one of one, +Whose voice seem'd faint through long disuse of speech. +When him in that great desert I espied, +"Have mercy on me!" cried I out aloud, +"Spirit! or living man! what e'er thou be!" + +He answer'd: "Now not man, man once I was, +And born of Lombard parents, Mantuana both +By country, when the power of Julius yet +Was scarcely firm. At Rome my life was past +Beneath the mild Augustus, in the time +Of fabled deities and false. A bard +Was I, and made Anchises' upright son +The subject of my song, who came from Troy, +When the flames prey'd on Ilium's haughty towers. +But thou, say wherefore to such perils past +Return'st thou? wherefore not this pleasant mount +Ascendest, cause and source of all delight?" +"And art thou then that Virgil, that well-spring, +From which such copious floods of eloquence +Have issued?" I with front abash'd replied. +"Glory and light of all the tuneful train! +May it avail me that I long with zeal +Have sought thy volume, and with love immense +Have conn'd it o'er. My master thou and guide! +Thou he from whom alone I have deriv'd +That style, which for its beauty into fame +Exalts me. See the beast, from whom I fled. +O save me from her, thou illustrious sage!" + +"For every vein and pulse throughout my frame +She hath made tremble." He, soon as he saw +That I was weeping, answer'd, "Thou must needs +Another way pursue, if thou wouldst 'scape +From out that savage wilderness. This beast, +At whom thou criest, her way will suffer none +To pass, and no less hindrance makes than death: +So bad and so accursed in her kind, +That never sated is her ravenous will, +Still after food more craving than before. +To many an animal in wedlock vile +She fastens, and shall yet to many more, +Until that greyhound come, who shall destroy +Her with sharp pain. He will not life support +By earth nor its base metals, but by love, +Wisdom, and virtue, and his land shall be +The land 'twixt either Feltro. In his might +Shall safety to Italia's plains arise, +For whose fair realm, Camilla, virgin pure, +Nisus, Euryalus, and Turnus fell. +He with incessant chase through every town +Shall worry, until he to hell at length +Restore her, thence by envy first let loose. +I for thy profit pond'ring now devise, +That thou mayst follow me, and I thy guide +Will lead thee hence through an eternal space, +Where thou shalt hear despairing shrieks, and see +Spirits of old tormented, who invoke +A second death; and those next view, who dwell +Content in fire, for that they hope to come, +Whene'er the time may be, among the blest, +Into whose regions if thou then desire +T' ascend, a spirit worthier then I +Must lead thee, in whose charge, when I depart, +Thou shalt be left: for that Almighty King, +Who reigns above, a rebel to his law, +Adjudges me, and therefore hath decreed, +That to his city none through me should come. +He in all parts hath sway; there rules, there holds +His citadel and throne. O happy those, +Whom there he chooses!" I to him in few: +"Bard! by that God, whom thou didst not adore, +I do beseech thee (that this ill and worse +I may escape) to lead me, where thou saidst, +That I Saint Peter's gate may view, and those +Who as thou tell'st, are in such dismal plight." + +Onward he mov'd, I close his steps pursu'd. + + + + +CANTO II + +NOW was the day departing, and the air, +Imbrown'd with shadows, from their toils releas'd +All animals on earth; and I alone +Prepar'd myself the conflict to sustain, +Both of sad pity, and that perilous road, +Which my unerring memory shall retrace. + +O Muses! O high genius! now vouchsafe +Your aid! O mind! that all I saw hast kept +Safe in a written record, here thy worth +And eminent endowments come to proof. + +I thus began: "Bard! thou who art my guide, +Consider well, if virtue be in me +Sufficient, ere to this high enterprise +Thou trust me. Thou hast told that Silvius' sire, +Yet cloth'd in corruptible flesh, among +Th' immortal tribes had entrance, and was there +Sensible present. Yet if heaven's great Lord, +Almighty foe to ill, such favour shew'd, +In contemplation of the high effect, +Both what and who from him should issue forth, +It seems in reason's judgment well deserv'd: +Sith he of Rome, and of Rome's empire wide, +In heaven's empyreal height was chosen sire: +Both which, if truth be spoken, were ordain'd +And 'stablish'd for the holy place, where sits +Who to great Peter's sacred chair succeeds. +He from this journey, in thy song renown'd, +Learn'd things, that to his victory gave rise +And to the papal robe. In after-times +The chosen vessel also travel'd there, +To bring us back assurance in that faith, +Which is the entrance to salvation's way. +But I, why should I there presume? or who +Permits it? not, Aeneas I nor Paul. +Myself I deem not worthy, and none else +Will deem me. I, if on this voyage then +I venture, fear it will in folly end. +Thou, who art wise, better my meaning know'st, +Than I can speak." As one, who unresolves +What he hath late resolv'd, and with new thoughts +Changes his purpose, from his first intent +Remov'd; e'en such was I on that dun coast, +Wasting in thought my enterprise, at first +So eagerly embrac'd. "If right thy words +I scan," replied that shade magnanimous, +"Thy soul is by vile fear assail'd, which oft +So overcasts a man, that he recoils +From noblest resolution, like a beast +At some false semblance in the twilight gloom. +That from this terror thou mayst free thyself, +I will instruct thee why I came, and what +I heard in that same instant, when for thee +Grief touch'd me first. I was among the tribe, +Who rest suspended, when a dame, so blest +And lovely, I besought her to command, +Call'd me; her eyes were brighter than the star +Of day; and she with gentle voice and soft +Angelically tun'd her speech address'd: +"O courteous shade of Mantua! thou whose fame +Yet lives, and shall live long as nature lasts! +A friend, not of my fortune but myself, +On the wide desert in his road has met +Hindrance so great, that he through fear has turn'd. +Now much I dread lest he past help have stray'd, +And I be ris'n too late for his relief, +From what in heaven of him I heard. Speed now, +And by thy eloquent persuasive tongue, +And by all means for his deliverance meet, +Assist him. So to me will comfort spring. +I who now bid thee on this errand forth +Am Beatrice; from a place I come + +(Note: Beatrice. I use this word, as it is +pronounced in the Italian, as consisting of four +syllables, of which the third is a long one.) + +Revisited with joy. Love brought me thence, +Who prompts my speech. When in my Master's sight +I stand, thy praise to him I oft will tell." + +She then was silent, and I thus began: +"O Lady! by whose influence alone, +Mankind excels whatever is contain'd +Within that heaven which hath the smallest orb, +So thy command delights me, that to obey, +If it were done already, would seem late. +No need hast thou farther to speak thy will; +Yet tell the reason, why thou art not loth +To leave that ample space, where to return +Thou burnest, for this centre here beneath." + +She then: "Since thou so deeply wouldst inquire, +I will instruct thee briefly, why no dread +Hinders my entrance here. Those things alone +Are to be fear'd, whence evil may proceed, +None else, for none are terrible beside. +I am so fram'd by God, thanks to his grace! +That any suff'rance of your misery +Touches me not, nor flame of that fierce fire +Assails me. In high heaven a blessed dame +Besides, who mourns with such effectual grief +That hindrance, which I send thee to remove, +That God's stern judgment to her will inclines." +To Lucia calling, her she thus bespake: +"Now doth thy faithful servant need thy aid +And I commend him to thee." At her word +Sped Lucia, of all cruelty the foe, +And coming to the place, where I abode +Seated with Rachel, her of ancient days, +She thus address'd me: "Thou true praise of God! +Beatrice! why is not thy succour lent +To him, who so much lov'd thee, as to leave +For thy sake all the multitude admires? +Dost thou not hear how pitiful his wail, +Nor mark the death, which in the torrent flood, +Swoln mightier than a sea, him struggling holds?" +"Ne'er among men did any with such speed +Haste to their profit, flee from their annoy, +As when these words were spoken, I came here, +Down from my blessed seat, trusting the force +Of thy pure eloquence, which thee, and all +Who well have mark'd it, into honour brings." + +"When she had ended, her bright beaming eyes +Tearful she turn'd aside; whereat I felt +Redoubled zeal to serve thee. As she will'd, +Thus am I come: I sav'd thee from the beast, +Who thy near way across the goodly mount +Prevented. What is this comes o'er thee then? +Why, why dost thou hang back? why in thy breast +Harbour vile fear? why hast not courage there +And noble daring? Since three maids so blest +Thy safety plan, e'en in the court of heaven; +And so much certain good my words forebode." + +As florets, by the frosty air of night +Bent down and clos'd, when day has blanch'd their leaves, +Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems; +So was my fainting vigour new restor'd, +And to my heart such kindly courage ran, +That I as one undaunted soon replied: +"O full of pity she, who undertook +My succour! and thou kind who didst perform +So soon her true behest! With such desire +Thou hast dispos'd me to renew my voyage, +That my first purpose fully is resum'd. +Lead on: one only will is in us both. +Thou art my guide, my master thou, and lord." + +So spake I; and when he had onward mov'd, +I enter'd on the deep and woody way. + + + + +CANTO III + +"THROUGH me you pass into the city of woe: +Through me you pass into eternal pain: +Through me among the people lost for aye. +Justice the founder of my fabric mov'd: +To rear me was the task of power divine, +Supremest wisdom, and primeval love. +Before me things create were none, save things +Eternal, and eternal I endure. + +"All hope abandon ye who enter here." + +Such characters in colour dim I mark'd +Over a portal's lofty arch inscrib'd: +Whereat I thus: "Master, these words import +Hard meaning." He as one prepar'd replied: +"Here thou must all distrust behind thee leave; +Here be vile fear extinguish'd. We are come +Where I have told thee we shall see the souls +To misery doom'd, who intellectual good +Have lost." And when his hand he had stretch'd forth +To mine, with pleasant looks, whence I was cheer'd, +Into that secret place he led me on. + +Here sighs with lamentations and loud moans +Resounded through the air pierc'd by no star, +That e'en I wept at entering. Various tongues, +Horrible languages, outcries of woe, +Accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse, +With hands together smote that swell'd the sounds, +Made up a tumult, that for ever whirls +Round through that air with solid darkness stain'd, +Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies. + +I then, with error yet encompass'd, cried: +"O master! What is this I hear? What race +Are these, who seem so overcome with woe?" + +He thus to me: "This miserable fate +Suffer the wretched souls of those, who liv'd +Without or praise or blame, with that ill band +Of angels mix'd, who nor rebellious prov'd +Nor yet were true to God, but for themselves +Were only. From his bounds Heaven drove them forth, +Not to impair his lustre, nor the depth +Of Hell receives them, lest th' accursed tribe +Should glory thence with exultation vain." + +I then: "Master! what doth aggrieve them thus, +That they lament so loud?" He straight replied: +"That will I tell thee briefly. These of death +No hope may entertain: and their blind life +So meanly passes, that all other lots +They envy. Fame of them the world hath none, +Nor suffers; mercy and justice scorn them both. +Speak not of them, but look, and pass them by." + +And I, who straightway look'd, beheld a flag, +Which whirling ran around so rapidly, +That it no pause obtain'd: and following came +Such a long train of spirits, I should ne'er +Have thought, that death so many had despoil'd. + +When some of these I recogniz'd, I saw +And knew the shade of him, who to base fear +Yielding, abjur'd his high estate. Forthwith +I understood for certain this the tribe +Of those ill spirits both to God displeasing +And to his foes. These wretches, who ne'er lived, +Went on in nakedness, and sorely stung +By wasps and hornets, which bedew'd their cheeks +With blood, that mix'd with tears dropp'd to their feet, +And by disgustful worms was gather'd there. + +Then looking farther onwards I beheld +A throng upon the shore of a great stream: +Whereat I thus: "Sir! grant me now to know +Whom here we view, and whence impell'd they seem +So eager to pass o'er, as I discern +Through the blear light?" He thus to me in few: +"This shalt thou know, soon as our steps arrive +Beside the woeful tide of Acheron." + +Then with eyes downward cast and fill'd with shame, +Fearing my words offensive to his ear, +Till we had reach'd the river, I from speech +Abstain'd. And lo! toward us in a bark +Comes on an old man hoary white with eld, + +Crying, "Woe to you wicked spirits! hope not +Ever to see the sky again. I come +To take you to the other shore across, +Into eternal darkness, there to dwell +In fierce heat and in ice. And thou, who there +Standest, live spirit! get thee hence, and leave +These who are dead." But soon as he beheld +I left them not, "By other way," said he, +"By other haven shalt thou come to shore, +Not by this passage; thee a nimbler boat +Must carry." Then to him thus spake my guide: +"Charon! thyself torment not: so 't is will'd, +Where will and power are one: ask thou no more." + +Straightway in silence fell the shaggy cheeks +Of him the boatman o'er the livid lake, +Around whose eyes glar'd wheeling flames. Meanwhile +Those spirits, faint and naked, color chang'd, +And gnash'd their teeth, soon as the cruel words +They heard. God and their parents they blasphem'd, +The human kind, the place, the time, and seed +That did engender them and give them birth. + +Then all together sorely wailing drew +To the curs'd strand, that every man must pass +Who fears not God. Charon, demoniac form, +With eyes of burning coal, collects them all, +Beck'ning, and each, that lingers, with his oar +Strikes. As fall off the light autumnal leaves, +One still another following, till the bough +Strews all its honours on the earth beneath; + +E'en in like manner Adam's evil brood +Cast themselves one by one down from the shore, +Each at a beck, as falcon at his call. + +Thus go they over through the umber'd wave, +And ever they on the opposing bank +Be landed, on this side another throng +Still gathers. "Son," thus spake the courteous guide, +"Those, who die subject to the wrath of God, +All here together come from every clime, +And to o'erpass the river are not loth: +For so heaven's justice goads them on, that fear +Is turn'd into desire. Hence ne'er hath past +Good spirit. If of thee Charon complain, +Now mayst thou know the import of his words." + +This said, the gloomy region trembling shook +So terribly, that yet with clammy dews +Fear chills my brow. The sad earth gave a blast, +That, lightening, shot forth a vermilion flame, +Which all my senses conquer'd quite, and I +Down dropp'd, as one with sudden slumber seiz'd. + + + + +CANTO IV + +BROKE the deep slumber in my brain a crash +Of heavy thunder, that I shook myself, +As one by main force rous'd. Risen upright, +My rested eyes I mov'd around, and search'd +With fixed ken to know what place it was, +Wherein I stood. For certain on the brink +I found me of the lamentable vale, +The dread abyss, that joins a thund'rous sound +Of plaints innumerable. Dark and deep, +And thick with clouds o'erspread, mine eye in vain +Explor'd its bottom, nor could aught discern. + +"Now let us to the blind world there beneath +Descend;" the bard began all pale of look: +"I go the first, and thou shalt follow next." + +Then I his alter'd hue perceiving, thus: +"How may I speed, if thou yieldest to dread, +Who still art wont to comfort me in doubt?" + +He then: "The anguish of that race below +With pity stains my cheek, which thou for fear +Mistakest. Let us on. Our length of way +Urges to haste." Onward, this said, he mov'd; +And ent'ring led me with him on the bounds +Of the first circle, that surrounds th' abyss. +Here, as mine ear could note, no plaint was heard +Except of sighs, that made th' eternal air +Tremble, not caus'd by tortures, but from grief +Felt by those multitudes, many and vast, +Of men, women, and infants. Then to me +The gentle guide: "Inquir'st thou not what spirits +Are these, which thou beholdest? Ere thou pass +Farther, I would thou know, that these of sin +Were blameless; and if aught they merited, +It profits not, since baptism was not theirs, +The portal to thy faith. If they before +The Gospel liv'd, they serv'd not God aright; +And among such am I. For these defects, +And for no other evil, we are lost;" + +"Only so far afflicted, that we live +Desiring without hope." So grief assail'd +My heart at hearing this, for well I knew +Suspended in that Limbo many a soul +Of mighty worth. "O tell me, sire rever'd! +Tell me, my master!" I began through wish +Of full assurance in that holy faith, +Which vanquishes all error; "say, did e'er +Any, or through his own or other's merit, +Come forth from thence, whom afterward was blest?" + +Piercing the secret purport of my speech, +He answer'd: "I was new to that estate, +When I beheld a puissant one arrive +Amongst us, with victorious trophy crown'd. +He forth the shade of our first parent drew, +Abel his child, and Noah righteous man, +Of Moses lawgiver for faith approv'd, +Of patriarch Abraham, and David king, +Israel with his sire and with his sons, +Nor without Rachel whom so hard he won, +And others many more, whom he to bliss +Exalted. Before these, be thou assur'd, +No spirit of human kind was ever sav'd." + +We, while he spake, ceas'd not our onward road, +Still passing through the wood; for so I name +Those spirits thick beset. We were not far +On this side from the summit, when I kenn'd +A flame, that o'er the darken'd hemisphere +Prevailing shin'd. Yet we a little space +Were distant, not so far but I in part +Discover'd, that a tribe in honour high +That place possess'd. "O thou, who every art +And science valu'st! who are these, that boast +Such honour, separate from all the rest?" + +He answer'd: "The renown of their great names +That echoes through your world above, acquires +Favour in heaven, which holds them thus advanc'd." +Meantime a voice I heard: "Honour the bard +Sublime! his shade returns that left us late!" +No sooner ceas'd the sound, than I beheld +Four mighty spirits toward us bend their steps, +Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad. + +When thus my master kind began: "Mark him, +Who in his right hand bears that falchion keen, +The other three preceding, as their lord. +This is that Homer, of all bards supreme: +Flaccus the next in satire's vein excelling; +The third is Naso; Lucan is the last. +Because they all that appellation own, +With which the voice singly accosted me, +Honouring they greet me thus, and well they judge." + +So I beheld united the bright school +Of him the monarch of sublimest song, +That o'er the others like an eagle soars. +When they together short discourse had held, +They turn'd to me, with salutation kind +Beck'ning me; at the which my master smil'd: +Nor was this all; but greater honour still +They gave me, for they made me of their tribe; +And I was sixth amid so learn'd a band. + +Far as the luminous beacon on we pass'd +Speaking of matters, then befitting well +To speak, now fitter left untold. At foot +Of a magnificent castle we arriv'd, +Seven times with lofty walls begirt, and round +Defended by a pleasant stream. O'er this +As o'er dry land we pass'd. Next through seven gates +I with those sages enter'd, and we came +Into a mead with lively verdure fresh. + +There dwelt a race, who slow their eyes around +Majestically mov'd, and in their port +Bore eminent authority; they spake +Seldom, but all their words were tuneful sweet. + +We to one side retir'd, into a place +Open and bright and lofty, whence each one +Stood manifest to view. Incontinent +There on the green enamel of the plain +Were shown me the great spirits, by whose sight +I am exalted in my own esteem. + +Electra there I saw accompanied +By many, among whom Hector I knew, +Anchises' pious son, and with hawk's eye +Caesar all arm'd, and by Camilla there +Penthesilea. On the other side +Old King Latinus, seated by his child +Lavinia, and that Brutus I beheld, +Who Tarquin chas'd, Lucretia, Cato's wife +Marcia, with Julia and Cornelia there; +And sole apart retir'd, the Soldan fierce. + +Then when a little more I rais'd my brow, +I spied the master of the sapient throng, +Seated amid the philosophic train. +Him all admire, all pay him rev'rence due. +There Socrates and Plato both I mark'd, +Nearest to him in rank; Democritus, +Who sets the world at chance, Diogenes, +With Heraclitus, and Empedocles, +And Anaxagoras, and Thales sage, +Zeno, and Dioscorides well read +In nature's secret lore. Orpheus I mark'd +And Linus, Tully and moral Seneca, +Euclid and Ptolemy, Hippocrates, +Galenus, Avicen, and him who made +That commentary vast, Averroes. + +Of all to speak at full were vain attempt; +For my wide theme so urges, that ofttimes +My words fall short of what bechanc'd. In two +The six associates part. Another way +My sage guide leads me, from that air serene, +Into a climate ever vex'd with storms: +And to a part I come where no light shines. + + + + +CANTO V + +FROM the first circle I descended thus +Down to the second, which, a lesser space +Embracing, so much more of grief contains +Provoking bitter moans. There, Minos stands +Grinning with ghastly feature: he, of all +Who enter, strict examining the crimes, + +Gives sentence, and dismisses them beneath, +According as he foldeth him around: +For when before him comes th' ill fated soul, +It all confesses; and that judge severe +Of sins, considering what place in hell +Suits the transgression, with his tail so oft +Himself encircles, as degrees beneath +He dooms it to descend. Before him stand +Always a num'rous throng; and in his turn +Each one to judgment passing, speaks, and hears +His fate, thence downward to his dwelling hurl'd. + +"O thou! who to this residence of woe +Approachest?" when he saw me coming, cried +Minos, relinquishing his dread employ, +"Look how thou enter here; beware in whom +Thou place thy trust; let not the entrance broad +Deceive thee to thy harm." To him my guide: +"Wherefore exclaimest? Hinder not his way +By destiny appointed; so 'tis will'd +Where will and power are one. Ask thou no more." + +Now 'gin the rueful wailings to be heard. +Now am I come where many a plaining voice +Smites on mine ear. Into a place I came +Where light was silent all. Bellowing there groan'd +A noise as of a sea in tempest torn +By warring winds. The stormy blast of hell +With restless fury drives the spirits on +Whirl'd round and dash'd amain with sore annoy. + +When they arrive before the ruinous sweep, +There shrieks are heard, there lamentations, moans, +And blasphemies 'gainst the good Power in heaven. + +I understood that to this torment sad +The carnal sinners are condemn'd, in whom +Reason by lust is sway'd. As in large troops +And multitudinous, when winter reigns, +The starlings on their wings are borne abroad; +So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls. +On this side and on that, above, below, +It drives them: hope of rest to solace them +Is none, nor e'en of milder pang. As cranes, +Chanting their dol'rous notes, traverse the sky, +Stretch'd out in long array: so I beheld +Spirits, who came loud wailing, hurried on +By their dire doom. Then I: "Instructor! who +Are these, by the black air so scourg'd?"--"The first +'Mong those, of whom thou question'st," he replied, +"O'er many tongues was empress. She in vice +Of luxury was so shameless, that she made +Liking be lawful by promulg'd decree, +To clear the blame she had herself incurr'd. +This is Semiramis, of whom 'tis writ, +That she succeeded Ninus her espous'd; +And held the land, which now the Soldan rules. +The next in amorous fury slew herself, +And to Sicheus' ashes broke her faith: +Then follows Cleopatra, lustful queen." + +There mark'd I Helen, for whose sake so long +The time was fraught with evil; there the great +Achilles, who with love fought to the end. +Paris I saw, and Tristan; and beside +A thousand more he show'd me, and by name +Pointed them out, whom love bereav'd of life. + +When I had heard my sage instructor name +Those dames and knights of antique days, o'erpower'd +By pity, well-nigh in amaze my mind +Was lost; and I began: "Bard! willingly +I would address those two together coming, +Which seem so light before the wind." He thus: +"Note thou, when nearer they to us approach." + +"Then by that love which carries them along, +Entreat; and they will come." Soon as the wind +Sway'd them toward us, I thus fram'd my speech: +"O wearied spirits! come, and hold discourse +With us, if by none else restrain'd." As doves +By fond desire invited, on wide wings +And firm, to their sweet nest returning home, +Cleave the air, wafted by their will along; +Thus issu'd from that troop, where Dido ranks, +They through the ill air speeding; with such force +My cry prevail'd by strong affection urg'd. + +"O gracious creature and benign! who go'st +Visiting, through this element obscure, +Us, who the world with bloody stain imbru'd; +If for a friend the King of all we own'd, +Our pray'r to him should for thy peace arise, +Since thou hast pity on our evil plight. +()f whatsoe'er to hear or to discourse +It pleases thee, that will we hear, of that +Freely with thee discourse, while e'er the wind, +As now, is mute. The land, that gave me birth, +Is situate on the coast, where Po descends +To rest in ocean with his sequent streams. + +"Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt, +Entangled him by that fair form, from me +Ta'en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still: +Love, that denial takes from none belov'd, +Caught me with pleasing him so passing well, +That, as thou see'st, he yet deserts me not. + +"Love brought us to one death: Caina waits +The soul, who spilt our life." Such were their words; +At hearing which downward I bent my looks, +And held them there so long, that the bard cried: +"What art thou pond'ring?" I in answer thus: +"Alas! by what sweet thoughts, what fond desire +Must they at length to that ill pass have reach'd!" + +Then turning, I to them my speech address'd. +And thus began: "Francesca! your sad fate +Even to tears my grief and pity moves. +But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs, +By what, and how love granted, that ye knew +Your yet uncertain wishes?" She replied: +"No greater grief than to remember days +Of joy, when mis'ry is at hand! That kens +Thy learn'd instructor. Yet so eagerly +If thou art bent to know the primal root, +From whence our love gat being, I will do, +As one, who weeps and tells his tale. One day +For our delight we read of Lancelot, +How him love thrall'd. Alone we were, and no +Suspicion near us. Ofttimes by that reading +Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue +Fled from our alter'd cheek. But at one point +Alone we fell. When of that smile we read, +The wished smile, rapturously kiss'd +By one so deep in love, then he, who ne'er +From me shall separate, at once my lips +All trembling kiss'd. The book and writer both +Were love's purveyors. In its leaves that day +We read no more." While thus one spirit spake, +The other wail'd so sorely, that heartstruck +I through compassion fainting, seem'd not far +From death, and like a corpse fell to the ground. + +CANTO VI + +MY sense reviving, that erewhile had droop'd +With pity for the kindred shades, whence grief +O'ercame me wholly, straight around I see +New torments, new tormented souls, which way +Soe'er I move, or turn, or bend my sight. +In the third circle I arrive, of show'rs +Ceaseless, accursed, heavy, and cold, unchang'd +For ever, both in kind and in degree. +Large hail, discolour'd water, sleety flaw +Through the dun midnight air stream'd down amain: +Stank all the land whereon that tempest fell. + +Cerberus, cruel monster, fierce and strange, +Through his wide threefold throat barks as a dog +Over the multitude immers'd beneath. +His eyes glare crimson, black his unctuous beard, +His belly large, and claw'd the hands, with which +He tears the spirits, flays them, and their limbs +Piecemeal disparts. Howling there spread, as curs, +Under the rainy deluge, with one side +The other screening, oft they roll them round, +A wretched, godless crew. When that great worm +Descried us, savage Cerberus, he op'd +His jaws, and the fangs show'd us; not a limb +Of him but trembled. Then my guide, his palms +Expanding on the ground, thence filled with earth +Rais'd them, and cast it in his ravenous maw. + +E'en as a dog, that yelling bays for food +His keeper, when the morsel comes, lets fall +His fury, bent alone with eager haste +To swallow it; so dropp'd the loathsome cheeks +Of demon Cerberus, who thund'ring stuns +The spirits, that they for deafness wish in vain. + +We, o'er the shades thrown prostrate by the brunt +Of the heavy tempest passing, set our feet +Upon their emptiness, that substance seem'd. + +They all along the earth extended lay +Save one, that sudden rais'd himself to sit, +Soon as that way he saw us pass. "O thou!" +He cried, "who through the infernal shades art led, +Own, if again thou know'st me. Thou wast fram'd +Or ere my frame was broken." I replied: +"The anguish thou endur'st perchance so takes +Thy form from my remembrance, that it seems +As if I saw thee never. But inform +Me who thou art, that in a place so sad +Art set, and in such torment, that although +Other be greater, more disgustful none +Can be imagin'd." He in answer thus: + +"Thy city heap'd with envy to the brim, +Ay that the measure overflows its bounds, +Held me in brighter days. Ye citizens +Were wont to name me Ciacco. For the sin +Of glutt'ny, damned vice, beneath this rain, +E'en as thou see'st, I with fatigue am worn; +Nor I sole spirit in this woe: all these +Have by like crime incurr'd like punishment." + +No more he said, and I my speech resum'd: +"Ciacco! thy dire affliction grieves me much, +Even to tears. But tell me, if thou know'st, +What shall at length befall the citizens +Of the divided city; whether any just one +Inhabit there: and tell me of the cause, +Whence jarring discord hath assail'd it thus?" + +He then: "After long striving they will come +To blood; and the wild party from the woods +Will chase the other with much injury forth. +Then it behoves, that this must fall, within +Three solar circles; and the other rise +By borrow'd force of one, who under shore +Now rests. It shall a long space hold aloof +Its forehead, keeping under heavy weight +The other oppress'd, indignant at the load, +And grieving sore. The just are two in number, +But they neglected. Av'rice, envy, pride, +Three fatal sparks, have set the hearts of all +On fire." Here ceas'd the lamentable sound; +And I continu'd thus: "Still would I learn +More from thee, farther parley still entreat. +Of Farinata and Tegghiaio say, +They who so well deserv'd, of Giacopo, +Arrigo, Mosca, and the rest, who bent +Their minds on working good. Oh! tell me where +They bide, and to their knowledge let me come. +For I am press'd with keen desire to hear, +If heaven's sweet cup or poisonous drug of hell +Be to their lip assign'd." He answer'd straight: +"These are yet blacker spirits. Various crimes +Have sunk them deeper in the dark abyss. +If thou so far descendest, thou mayst see them. +But to the pleasant world when thou return'st, +Of me make mention, I entreat thee, there. +No more I tell thee, answer thee no more." + +This said, his fixed eyes he turn'd askance, +A little ey'd me, then bent down his head, +And 'midst his blind companions with it fell. + +When thus my guide: "No more his bed he leaves, +Ere the last angel-trumpet blow. The Power +Adverse to these shall then in glory come, +Each one forthwith to his sad tomb repair, +Resume his fleshly vesture and his form, +And hear the eternal doom re-echoing rend +The vault." So pass'd we through that mixture foul +Of spirits and rain, with tardy steps; meanwhile +Touching, though slightly, on the life to come. +For thus I question'd: "Shall these tortures, Sir! +When the great sentence passes, be increas'd, +Or mitigated, or as now severe?" + +He then: "Consult thy knowledge; that decides +That as each thing to more perfection grows, +It feels more sensibly both good and pain. +Though ne'er to true perfection may arrive +This race accurs'd, yet nearer then than now +They shall approach it." Compassing that path +Circuitous we journeyed, and discourse +Much more than I relate between us pass'd: +Till at the point, where the steps led below, +Arriv'd, there Plutus, the great foe, we found. + + + + +CANTO VII + +"AH me! O Satan! Satan!" loud exclaim'd +Plutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm: +And the kind sage, whom no event surpris'd, +To comfort me thus spake: "Let not thy fear +Harm thee, for power in him, be sure, is none +To hinder down this rock thy safe descent." +Then to that sworn lip turning, "Peace!" he cried, + +"Curs'd wolf! thy fury inward on thyself +Prey, and consume thee! Through the dark profound +Not without cause he passes. So 't is will'd +On high, there where the great Archangel pour'd +Heav'n's vengeance on the first adulterer proud." + +As sails full spread and bellying with the wind +Drop suddenly collaps'd, if the mast split; +So to the ground down dropp'd the cruel fiend. + +Thus we, descending to the fourth steep ledge, +Gain'd on the dismal shore, that all the woe +Hems in of all the universe. Ah me! +Almighty Justice! in what store thou heap'st +New pains, new troubles, as I here beheld! +Wherefore doth fault of ours bring us to this? + +E'en as a billow, on Charybdis rising, +Against encounter'd billow dashing breaks; +Such is the dance this wretched race must lead, +Whom more than elsewhere numerous here I found, +From one side and the other, with loud voice, +Both roll'd on weights by main forge of their breasts, +Then smote together, and each one forthwith +Roll'd them back voluble, turning again, +Exclaiming these, "Why holdest thou so fast?" +Those answering, "And why castest thou away?" +So still repeating their despiteful song, +They to the opposite point on either hand +Travers'd the horrid circle: then arriv'd, +Both turn'd them round, and through the middle space +Conflicting met again. At sight whereof +I, stung with grief, thus spake: "O say, my guide! +What race is this? Were these, whose heads are shorn, +On our left hand, all sep'rate to the church?" + +He straight replied: "In their first life these all +In mind were so distorted, that they made, +According to due measure, of their wealth, +No use. This clearly from their words collect, +Which they howl forth, at each extremity +Arriving of the circle, where their crime +Contrary' in kind disparts them. To the church +Were separate those, that with no hairy cowls +Are crown'd, both Popes and Cardinals, o'er whom +Av'rice dominion absolute maintains." + +I then: "Mid such as these some needs must be, +Whom I shall recognize, that with the blot +Of these foul sins were stain'd." He answering thus: +"Vain thought conceiv'st thou. That ignoble life, +Which made them vile before, now makes them dark, +And to all knowledge indiscernible. +Forever they shall meet in this rude shock: +These from the tomb with clenched grasp shall rise, +Those with close-shaven locks. That ill they gave, +And ill they kept, hath of the beauteous world +Depriv'd, and set them at this strife, which needs +No labour'd phrase of mine to set if off. +Now may'st thou see, my son! how brief, how vain, +The goods committed into fortune's hands, +For which the human race keep such a coil! +Not all the gold, that is beneath the moon, +Or ever hath been, of these toil-worn souls +Might purchase rest for one." I thus rejoin'd: + +"My guide! of thee this also would I learn; +This fortune, that thou speak'st of, what it is, +Whose talons grasp the blessings of the world?" + +He thus: "O beings blind! what ignorance +Besets you? Now my judgment hear and mark. +He, whose transcendent wisdom passes all, +The heavens creating, gave them ruling powers +To guide them, so that each part shines to each, +Their light in equal distribution pour'd. +By similar appointment he ordain'd +Over the world's bright images to rule. +Superintendence of a guiding hand +And general minister, which at due time +May change the empty vantages of life +From race to race, from one to other's blood, +Beyond prevention of man's wisest care: +Wherefore one nation rises into sway, +Another languishes, e'en as her will +Decrees, from us conceal'd, as in the grass +The serpent train. Against her nought avails +Your utmost wisdom. She with foresight plans, +Judges, and carries on her reign, as theirs +The other powers divine. Her changes know +Nore intermission: by necessity +She is made swift, so frequent come who claim +Succession in her favours. This is she, +So execrated e'en by those, whose debt +To her is rather praise; they wrongfully +With blame requite her, and with evil word; +But she is blessed, and for that recks not: +Amidst the other primal beings glad +Rolls on her sphere, and in her bliss exults. +Now on our way pass we, to heavier woe +Descending: for each star is falling now, +That mounted at our entrance, and forbids +Too long our tarrying." We the circle cross'd +To the next steep, arriving at a well, +That boiling pours itself down to a foss +Sluic'd from its source. Far murkier was the wave +Than sablest grain: and we in company +Of the' inky waters, journeying by their side, +Enter'd, though by a different track, beneath. +Into a lake, the Stygian nam'd, expands +The dismal stream, when it hath reach'd the foot +Of the grey wither'd cliffs. Intent I stood +To gaze, and in the marish sunk descried +A miry tribe, all naked, and with looks +Betok'ning rage. They with their hands alone +Struck not, but with the head, the breast, the feet, +Cutting each other piecemeal with their fangs. + +The good instructor spake; "Now seest thou, son! +The souls of those, whom anger overcame. +This too for certain know, that underneath +The water dwells a multitude, whose sighs +Into these bubbles make the surface heave, +As thine eye tells thee wheresoe'er it turn." +Fix'd in the slime they say: "Sad once were we +In the sweet air made gladsome by the sun, +Carrying a foul and lazy mist within: +Now in these murky settlings are we sad." +Such dolorous strain they gurgle in their throats. +But word distinct can utter none." Our route +Thus compass'd we, a segment widely stretch'd +Between the dry embankment, and the core +Of the loath'd pool, turning meanwhile our eyes +Downward on those who gulp'd its muddy lees; +Nor stopp'd, till to a tower's low base we came. + + + + +CANTO VIII + +MY theme pursuing, I relate that ere +We reach'd the lofty turret's base, our eyes +Its height ascended, where two cressets hung +We mark'd, and from afar another light +Return the signal, so remote, that scarce +The eye could catch its beam. I turning round +To the deep source of knowledge, thus inquir'd: +"Say what this means? and what that other light +In answer set? what agency doth this?" + +"There on the filthy waters," he replied, +"E'en now what next awaits us mayst thou see, +If the marsh-gender'd fog conceal it not." + +Never was arrow from the cord dismiss'd, +That ran its way so nimbly through the air, +As a small bark, that through the waves I spied +Toward us coming, under the sole sway +Of one that ferried it, who cried aloud: +"Art thou arriv'd, fell spirit?"--"Phlegyas, Phlegyas, +This time thou criest in vain," my lord replied; +"No longer shalt thou have us, but while o'er +The slimy pool we pass." As one who hears +Of some great wrong he hath sustain'd, whereat +Inly he pines; so Phlegyas inly pin'd +In his fierce ire. My guide descending stepp'd +Into the skiff, and bade me enter next +Close at his side; nor till my entrance seem'd +The vessel freighted. Soon as both embark'd, +Cutting the waves, goes on the ancient prow, +More deeply than with others it is wont. + +While we our course o'er the dead channel held. +One drench'd in mire before me came, and said; +"Who art thou, that thou comest ere thine hour?" + +I answer'd: "Though I come, I tarry not; +But who art thou, that art become so foul?" + +"One, as thou seest, who mourn:" he straight replied. + +To which I thus: "In mourning and in woe, +Curs'd spirit! tarry thou.g I know thee well, +E'en thus in filth disguis'd." Then stretch'd he forth +Hands to the bark; whereof my teacher sage +Aware, thrusting him back: "Away! down there; + +"To the' other dogs!" then, with his arms my neck +Encircling, kiss'd my cheek, and spake: "O soul +Justly disdainful! blest was she in whom +Thou was conceiv'd! He in the world was one +For arrogance noted; to his memory +No virtue lends its lustre; even so +Here is his shadow furious. There above +How many now hold themselves mighty kings +Who here like swine shall wallow in the mire, +Leaving behind them horrible dispraise!" + +I then: "Master! him fain would I behold +Whelm'd in these dregs, before we quit the lake." + +He thus: "Or ever to thy view the shore +Be offer'd, satisfied shall be that wish, +Which well deserves completion." Scarce his words +Were ended, when I saw the miry tribes +Set on him with such violence, that yet +For that render I thanks to God and praise +"To Filippo Argenti:" cried they all: +And on himself the moody Florentine +Turn'd his avenging fangs. Him here we left, +Nor speak I of him more. But on mine ear +Sudden a sound of lamentation smote, +Whereat mine eye unbarr'd I sent abroad. + +And thus the good instructor: "Now, my son! +Draws near the city, that of Dis is nam'd, +With its grave denizens, a mighty throng." + +I thus: "The minarets already, Sir! +There certes in the valley I descry, +Gleaming vermilion, as if they from fire +Had issu'd." He replied: "Eternal fire, +That inward burns, shows them with ruddy flame +Illum'd; as in this nether hell thou seest." + +We came within the fosses deep, that moat +This region comfortless. The walls appear'd +As they were fram'd of iron. We had made +Wide circuit, ere a place we reach'd, where loud +The mariner cried vehement: "Go forth! +The' entrance is here!" Upon the gates I spied +More than a thousand, who of old from heaven +Were hurl'd. With ireful gestures, "Who is this," +They cried, "that without death first felt, goes through +The regions of the dead?" My sapient guide +Made sign that he for secret parley wish'd; +Whereat their angry scorn abating, thus +They spake: "Come thou alone; and let him go +Who hath so hardily enter'd this realm. +Alone return he by his witless way; +If well he know it, let him prove. For thee, +Here shalt thou tarry, who through clime so dark +Hast been his escort." Now bethink thee, reader! +What cheer was mine at sound of those curs'd words. +I did believe I never should return. + +"O my lov'd guide! who more than seven times +Security hast render'd me, and drawn +From peril deep, whereto I stood expos'd, +Desert me not," I cried, "in this extreme. +And if our onward going be denied, +Together trace we back our steps with speed." + +My liege, who thither had conducted me, +Replied: "Fear not: for of our passage none +Hath power to disappoint us, by such high +Authority permitted. But do thou +Expect me here; meanwhile thy wearied spirit +Comfort, and feed with kindly hope, assur'd +I will not leave thee in this lower world." + +This said, departs the sire benevolent, +And quits me. Hesitating I remain +At war 'twixt will and will not in my thoughts. + +I could not hear what terms he offer'd them, +But they conferr'd not long, for all at once +To trial fled within. Clos'd were the gates +By those our adversaries on the breast +Of my liege lord: excluded he return'd +To me with tardy steps. Upon the ground +His eyes were bent, and from his brow eras'd +All confidence, while thus with sighs he spake: +"Who hath denied me these abodes of woe?" +Then thus to me: "That I am anger'd, think +No ground of terror: in this trial I +Shall vanquish, use what arts they may within +For hindrance. This their insolence, not new, +Erewhile at gate less secret they display'd, +Which still is without bolt; upon its arch +Thou saw'st the deadly scroll: and even now +On this side of its entrance, down the steep, +Passing the circles, unescorted, comes +One whose strong might can open us this land." + + + + +CANTO IX + +THE hue, which coward dread on my pale cheeks +Imprinted, when I saw my guide turn back, +Chas'd that from his which newly they had worn, +And inwardly restrain'd it. He, as one +Who listens, stood attentive: for his eye +Not far could lead him through the sable air, +And the thick-gath'ring cloud. "It yet behooves +We win this fight"--thus he began--"if not-- +Such aid to us is offer'd.--Oh, how long +Me seems it, ere the promis'd help arrive!" + +I noted, how the sequel of his words +Clok'd their beginning; for the last he spake +Agreed not with the first. But not the less +My fear was at his saying; sith I drew +To import worse perchance, than that he held, +His mutilated speech. "Doth ever any +Into this rueful concave's extreme depth +Descend, out of the first degree, whose pain +Is deprivation merely of sweet hope?" + +Thus I inquiring. "Rarely," he replied, +"It chances, that among us any makes +This journey, which I wend. Erewhile 'tis true +Once came I here beneath, conjur'd by fell +Erictho, sorceress, who compell'd the shades +Back to their bodies. No long space my flesh +Was naked of me, when within these walls +She made me enter, to draw forth a spirit +From out of Judas' circle. Lowest place +Is that of all, obscurest, and remov'd +Farthest from heav'n's all-circling orb. The road +Full well I know: thou therefore rest secure. +That lake, the noisome stench exhaling, round +The city' of grief encompasses, which now +We may not enter without rage." Yet more +He added: but I hold it not in mind, +For that mine eye toward the lofty tower +Had drawn me wholly, to its burning top. +Where in an instant I beheld uprisen +At once three hellish furies stain'd with blood: +In limb and motion feminine they seem'd; +Around them greenest hydras twisting roll'd +Their volumes; adders and cerastes crept +Instead of hair, and their fierce temples bound. + +He knowing well the miserable hags +Who tend the queen of endless woe, thus spake: + +"Mark thou each dire Erinnys. To the left +This is Megaera; on the right hand she, +Who wails, Alecto; and Tisiphone +I' th' midst." This said, in silence he remain'd +Their breast they each one clawing tore; themselves +Smote with their palms, and such shrill clamour rais'd, +That to the bard I clung, suspicion-bound. +"Hasten Medusa: so to adamant +Him shall we change;" all looking down exclaim'd. +"E'en when by Theseus' might assail'd, we took +No ill revenge." "Turn thyself round, and keep +Thy count'nance hid; for if the Gorgon dire +Be shown, and thou shouldst view it, thy return +Upwards would be for ever lost." This said, +Himself my gentle master turn'd me round, +Nor trusted he my hands, but with his own +He also hid me. Ye of intellect +Sound and entire, mark well the lore conceal'd +Under close texture of the mystic strain! + +And now there came o'er the perturbed waves +Loud-crashing, terrible, a sound that made +Either shore tremble, as if of a wind +Impetuous, from conflicting vapours sprung, +That 'gainst some forest driving all its might, +Plucks off the branches, beats them down and hurls +Afar; then onward passing proudly sweeps +Its whirlwind rage, while beasts and shepherds fly. + +Mine eyes he loos'd, and spake: "And now direct +Thy visual nerve along that ancient foam, +There, thickest where the smoke ascends." As frogs +Before their foe the serpent, through the wave +Ply swiftly all, till at the ground each one +Lies on a heap; more than a thousand spirits +Destroy'd, so saw I fleeing before one +Who pass'd with unwet feet the Stygian sound. +He, from his face removing the gross air, +Oft his left hand forth stretch'd, and seem'd alone +By that annoyance wearied. I perceiv'd +That he was sent from heav'n, and to my guide +Turn'd me, who signal made that I should stand +Quiet, and bend to him. Ah me! how full +Of noble anger seem'd he! To the gate +He came, and with his wand touch'd it, whereat +Open without impediment it flew. + +"Outcasts of heav'n! O abject race and scorn'd!" +Began he on the horrid grunsel standing, +"Whence doth this wild excess of insolence +Lodge in you? wherefore kick you 'gainst that will +Ne'er frustrate of its end, and which so oft +Hath laid on you enforcement of your pangs? +What profits at the fays to but the horn? +Your Cerberus, if ye remember, hence +Bears still, peel'd of their hair, his throat and maw." + +This said, he turn'd back o'er the filthy way, +And syllable to us spake none, but wore +The semblance of a man by other care +Beset, and keenly press'd, than thought of him +Who in his presence stands. Then we our steps +Toward that territory mov'd, secure +After the hallow'd words. We unoppos'd +There enter'd; and my mind eager to learn +What state a fortress like to that might hold, +I soon as enter'd throw mine eye around, +And see on every part wide-stretching space +Replete with bitter pain and torment ill. + +As where Rhone stagnates on the plains of Arles, +Or as at Pola, near Quarnaro's gulf, +That closes Italy and laves her bounds, +The place is all thick spread with sepulchres; +So was it here, save what in horror here +Excell'd: for 'midst the graves were scattered flames, +Wherewith intensely all throughout they burn'd, +That iron for no craft there hotter needs. + +Their lids all hung suspended, and beneath +From them forth issu'd lamentable moans, +Such as the sad and tortur'd well might raise. + +I thus: "Master! say who are these, interr'd +Within these vaults, of whom distinct we hear +The dolorous sighs?" He answer thus return'd: + +"The arch-heretics are here, accompanied +By every sect their followers; and much more, +Than thou believest, tombs are freighted: like +With like is buried; and the monuments +Are different in degrees of heat." This said, +He to the right hand turning, on we pass'd +Betwixt the afflicted and the ramparts high. + + + + +CANTO X + +NOW by a secret pathway we proceed, +Between the walls, that hem the region round, +And the tormented souls: my master first, +I close behind his steps. "Virtue supreme!" +I thus began; "who through these ample orbs +In circuit lead'st me, even as thou will'st, +Speak thou, and satisfy my wish. May those, +Who lie within these sepulchres, be seen? +Already all the lids are rais'd, and none +O'er them keeps watch." He thus in answer spake +"They shall be closed all, what-time they here +From Josaphat return'd shall come, and bring +Their bodies, which above they now have left. +The cemetery on this part obtain +With Epicurus all his followers, +Who with the body make the spirit die. +Here therefore satisfaction shall be soon +Both to the question ask'd, and to the wish, +Which thou conceal'st in silence." I replied: +"I keep not, guide belov'd! from thee my heart +Secreted, but to shun vain length of words, +A lesson erewhile taught me by thyself." + +"O Tuscan! thou who through the city of fire +Alive art passing, so discreet of speech! +Here please thee stay awhile. Thy utterance +Declares the place of thy nativity +To be that noble land, with which perchance +I too severely dealt." Sudden that sound +Forth issu'd from a vault, whereat in fear +I somewhat closer to my leader's side +Approaching, he thus spake: "What dost thou? Turn. +Lo, Farinata, there! who hath himself +Uplifted: from his girdle upwards all +Expos'd behold him." On his face was mine +Already fix'd; his breast and forehead there +Erecting, seem'd as in high scorn he held +E'en hell. Between the sepulchres to him +My guide thrust me with fearless hands and prompt, +This warning added: "See thy words be clear!" + +He, soon as there I stood at the tomb's foot, +Ey'd me a space, then in disdainful mood +Address'd me: "Say, what ancestors were thine?" + +I, willing to obey him, straight reveal'd +The whole, nor kept back aught: whence he, his brow +Somewhat uplifting, cried: "Fiercely were they +Adverse to me, my party, and the blood +From whence I sprang: twice therefore I abroad +Scatter'd them." "Though driv'n out, yet they each time +From all parts," answer'd I, "return'd; an art +Which yours have shown, they are not skill'd to learn." + +Then, peering forth from the unclosed jaw, +Rose from his side a shade, high as the chin, +Leaning, methought, upon its knees uprais'd. +It look'd around, as eager to explore +If there were other with me; but perceiving +That fond imagination quench'd, with tears +Thus spake: "If thou through this blind prison go'st. +Led by thy lofty genius and profound, +Where is my son? and wherefore not with thee?" + +I straight replied: "Not of myself I come, +By him, who there expects me, through this clime +Conducted, whom perchance Guido thy son +Had in contempt." Already had his words +And mode of punishment read me his name, +Whence I so fully answer'd. He at once +Exclaim'd, up starting, "How! said'st thou he HAD? +No longer lives he? Strikes not on his eye +The blessed daylight?" Then of some delay +I made ere my reply aware, down fell +Supine, not after forth appear'd he more. + +Meanwhile the other, great of soul, near whom +I yet was station'd, chang'd not count'nance stern, +Nor mov'd the neck, nor bent his ribbed side. +"And if," continuing the first discourse, +"They in this art," he cried, "small skill have shown, +That doth torment me more e'en than this bed. +But not yet fifty times shall be relum'd +Her aspect, who reigns here Queen of this realm, +Ere thou shalt know the full weight of that art. +So to the pleasant world mayst thou return, +As thou shalt tell me, why in all their laws, +Against my kin this people is so fell?" + +"The slaughter and great havoc," I replied, +"That colour'd Arbia's flood with crimson stain-- +To these impute, that in our hallow'd dome +Such orisons ascend." Sighing he shook +The head, then thus resum'd: "In that affray +I stood not singly, nor without just cause +Assuredly should with the rest have stirr'd; +But singly there I stood, when by consent +Of all, Florence had to the ground been raz'd, +The one who openly forbad the deed." + +"So may thy lineage find at last repose," +I thus adjur'd him, "as thou solve this knot, +Which now involves my mind. If right I hear, +Ye seem to view beforehand, that which time +Leads with him, of the present uninform'd." + +"We view, as one who hath an evil sight," +He answer'd, "plainly, objects far remote: +So much of his large spendour yet imparts +The' Almighty Ruler; but when they approach +Or actually exist, our intellect +Then wholly fails, nor of your human state +Except what others bring us know we aught. +Hence therefore mayst thou understand, that all +Our knowledge in that instant shall expire, +When on futurity the portals close." + +Then conscious of my fault, and by remorse +Smitten, I added thus: "Now shalt thou say +To him there fallen, that his offspring still +Is to the living join'd; and bid him know, +That if from answer silent I abstain'd, +'Twas that my thought was occupied intent +Upon that error, which thy help hath solv'd." + +But now my master summoning me back +I heard, and with more eager haste besought +The spirit to inform me, who with him +Partook his lot. He answer thus return'd: + +"More than a thousand with me here are laid +Within is Frederick, second of that name, +And the Lord Cardinal, and of the rest +I speak not." He, this said, from sight withdrew. +But I my steps towards the ancient bard +Reverting, ruminated on the words +Betokening me such ill. Onward he mov'd, +And thus in going question'd: "Whence the' amaze +That holds thy senses wrapt?" I satisfied +The' inquiry, and the sage enjoin'd me straight: +"Let thy safe memory store what thou hast heard +To thee importing harm; and note thou this," +With his rais'd finger bidding me take heed, + +"When thou shalt stand before her gracious beam, +Whose bright eye all surveys, she of thy life +The future tenour will to thee unfold." + +Forthwith he to the left hand turn'd his feet: +We left the wall, and tow'rds the middle space +Went by a path, that to a valley strikes; +Which e'en thus high exhal'd its noisome steam. + + + + +CANTO XI + +UPON the utmost verge of a high bank, +By craggy rocks environ'd round, we came, +Where woes beneath more cruel yet were stow'd: +And here to shun the horrible excess +Of fetid exhalation, upward cast +From the profound abyss, behind the lid +Of a great monument we stood retir'd, + +Whereon this scroll I mark'd: "I have in charge +Pope Anastasius, whom Photinus drew +From the right path.--Ere our descent behooves +We make delay, that somewhat first the sense, +To the dire breath accustom'd, afterward +Regard it not." My master thus; to whom +Answering I spake: "Some compensation find +That the time past not wholly lost." He then: +"Lo! how my thoughts e'en to thy wishes tend! +My son! within these rocks," he thus began, +"Are three close circles in gradation plac'd, +As these which now thou leav'st. Each one is full +Of spirits accurs'd; but that the sight alone +Hereafter may suffice thee, listen how +And for what cause in durance they abide. + +"Of all malicious act abhorr'd in heaven, +The end is injury; and all such end +Either by force or fraud works other's woe +But fraud, because of man peculiar evil, +To God is more displeasing; and beneath +The fraudulent are therefore doom'd to' endure +Severer pang. The violent occupy +All the first circle; and because to force +Three persons are obnoxious, in three rounds +Hach within other sep'rate is it fram'd. +To God, his neighbour, and himself, by man +Force may be offer'd; to himself I say +And his possessions, as thou soon shalt hear +At full. Death, violent death, and painful wounds +Upon his neighbour he inflicts; and wastes +By devastation, pillage, and the flames, +His substance. Slayers, and each one that smites +In malice, plund'rers, and all robbers, hence +The torment undergo of the first round +In different herds. Man can do violence +To himself and his own blessings: and for this +He in the second round must aye deplore +With unavailing penitence his crime, +Whoe'er deprives himself of life and light, +In reckless lavishment his talent wastes, +And sorrows there where he should dwell in joy. +To God may force be offer'd, in the heart +Denying and blaspheming his high power, +And nature with her kindly law contemning. +And thence the inmost round marks with its seal +Sodom and Cahors, and all such as speak +Contemptuously' of the Godhead in their hearts. + +"Fraud, that in every conscience leaves a sting, +May be by man employ'd on one, whose trust +He wins, or on another who withholds +Strict confidence. Seems as the latter way +Broke but the bond of love which Nature makes. +Whence in the second circle have their nest +Dissimulation, witchcraft, flatteries, +Theft, falsehood, simony, all who seduce +To lust, or set their honesty at pawn, +With such vile scum as these. The other way +Forgets both Nature's general love, and that +Which thereto added afterwards gives birth +To special faith. Whence in the lesser circle, +Point of the universe, dread seat of Dis, +The traitor is eternally consum'd." + +I thus: "Instructor, clearly thy discourse +Proceeds, distinguishing the hideous chasm +And its inhabitants with skill exact. +But tell me this: they of the dull, fat pool, +Whom the rain beats, or whom the tempest drives, +Or who with tongues so fierce conflicting meet, +Wherefore within the city fire-illum'd +Are not these punish'd, if God's wrath be on them? +And if it be not, wherefore in such guise +Are they condemned?" He answer thus return'd: +"Wherefore in dotage wanders thus thy mind, +Not so accustom'd? or what other thoughts +Possess it? Dwell not in thy memory +The words, wherein thy ethic page describes +Three dispositions adverse to Heav'n's will, +Incont'nence, malice, and mad brutishness, +And how incontinence the least offends +God, and least guilt incurs? If well thou note +This judgment, and remember who they are, +Without these walls to vain repentance doom'd, +Thou shalt discern why they apart are plac'd +From these fell spirits, and less wreakful pours +Justice divine on them its vengeance down." + +"O Sun! who healest all imperfect sight, +Thou so content'st me, when thou solv'st my doubt, +That ignorance not less than knowledge charms. +Yet somewhat turn thee back," I in these words +Continu'd, "where thou saidst, that usury +Offends celestial Goodness; and this knot +Perplex'd unravel." He thus made reply: +"Philosophy, to an attentive ear, +Clearly points out, not in one part alone, +How imitative nature takes her course +From the celestial mind and from its art: +And where her laws the Stagyrite unfolds, +Not many leaves scann'd o'er, observing well +Thou shalt discover, that your art on her +Obsequious follows, as the learner treads +In his instructor's step, so that your art +Deserves the name of second in descent +From God. These two, if thou recall to mind +Creation's holy book, from the beginning +Were the right source of life and excellence +To human kind. But in another path +The usurer walks; and Nature in herself +And in her follower thus he sets at nought, +Placing elsewhere his hope. But follow now +My steps on forward journey bent; for now +The Pisces play with undulating glance +Along the' horizon, and the Wain lies all +O'er the north-west; and onward there a space +Is our steep passage down the rocky height." + + + + +CANTO XII + +THE place where to descend the precipice +We came, was rough as Alp, and on its verge +Such object lay, as every eye would shun. + +As is that ruin, which Adice's stream +On this side Trento struck, should'ring the wave, +Or loos'd by earthquake or for lack of prop; +For from the mountain's summit, whence it mov'd +To the low level, so the headlong rock +Is shiver'd, that some passage it might give +To him who from above would pass; e'en such +Into the chasm was that descent: and there +At point of the disparted ridge lay stretch'd +The infamy of Crete, detested brood +Of the feign'd heifer: and at sight of us +It gnaw'd itself, as one with rage distract. + +To him my guide exclaim'd: "Perchance thou deem'st +The King of Athens here, who, in the world +Above, thy death contriv'd. Monster! avaunt! +He comes not tutor'd by thy sister's art, +But to behold your torments is he come." + +Like to a bull, that with impetuous spring +Darts, at the moment when the fatal blow +Hath struck him, but unable to proceed +Plunges on either side; so saw I plunge +The Minotaur; whereat the sage exclaim'd: +"Run to the passage! while he storms, 't is well +That thou descend." Thus down our road we took +Through those dilapidated crags, that oft +Mov'd underneath my feet, to weight like theirs +Unus'd. I pond'ring went, and thus he spake: + +"Perhaps thy thoughts are of this ruin'd steep, +Guarded by the brute violence, which I +Have vanquish'd now. Know then, that when I erst +Hither descended to the nether hell, +This rock was not yet fallen. But past doubt +(If well I mark) not long ere He arrived, +Who carried off from Dis the mighty spoil +Of the highest circle, then through all its bounds +Such trembling seiz'd the deep concave and foul, +I thought the universe was thrill'd with love, +Whereby, there are who deem, the world hath oft +Been into chaos turn'd: and in that point, +Here, and elsewhere, that old rock toppled down. +But fix thine eyes beneath: the river of blood +Approaches, in the which all those are steep'd, +Who have by violence injur'd." O blind lust! +O foolish wrath! who so dost goad us on +In the brief life, and in the eternal then +Thus miserably o'erwhelm us. I beheld +An ample foss, that in a bow was bent, +As circling all the plain; for so my guide +Had told. Between it and the rampart's base +On trail ran Centaurs, with keen arrows arm'd, +As to the chase they on the earth were wont. + +At seeing us descend they each one stood; +And issuing from the troop, three sped with bows +And missile weapons chosen first; of whom +One cried from far: "Say to what pain ye come +Condemn'd, who down this steep have journied? Speak +From whence ye stand, or else the bow I draw." + +To whom my guide: "Our answer shall be made +To Chiron, there, when nearer him we come. +Ill was thy mind, thus ever quick and rash." + +Then me he touch'd, and spake: "Nessus is this, +Who for the fair Deianira died, +And wrought himself revenge for his own fate. +He in the midst, that on his breast looks down, +Is the great Chiron who Achilles nurs'd; +That other Pholus, prone to wrath." Around +The foss these go by thousands, aiming shafts +At whatsoever spirit dares emerge +From out the blood, more than his guilt allows. + +We to those beasts, that rapid strode along, +Drew near, when Chiron took an arrow forth, +And with the notch push'd back his shaggy beard +To the cheek-bone, then his great mouth to view +Exposing, to his fellows thus exclaim'd: +"Are ye aware, that he who comes behind +Moves what he touches? The feet of the dead +Are not so wont." My trusty guide, who now +Stood near his breast, where the two natures join, +Thus made reply: "He is indeed alive, +And solitary so must needs by me +Be shown the gloomy vale, thereto induc'd +By strict necessity, not by delight. +She left her joyful harpings in the sky, +Who this new office to my care consign'd. +He is no robber, no dark spirit I. +But by that virtue, which empowers my step +To treat so wild a path, grant us, I pray, +One of thy band, whom we may trust secure, +Who to the ford may lead us, and convey +Across, him mounted on his back; for he +Is not a spirit that may walk the air." + +Then on his right breast turning, Chiron thus +To Nessus spake: "Return, and be their guide. +And if ye chance to cross another troop, +Command them keep aloof." Onward we mov'd, +The faithful escort by our side, along +The border of the crimson-seething flood, +Whence from those steep'd within loud shrieks arose. + +Some there I mark'd, as high as to their brow +Immers'd, of whom the mighty Centaur thus: +"These are the souls of tyrants, who were given +To blood and rapine. Here they wail aloud +Their merciless wrongs. Here Alexander dwells, +And Dionysius fell, who many a year +Of woe wrought for fair Sicily. That brow +Whereon the hair so jetty clust'ring hangs, +Is Azzolino; that with flaxen locks +Obizzo' of Este, in the world destroy'd +By his foul step-son." To the bard rever'd +I turned me round, and thus he spake; "Let him +Be to thee now first leader, me but next +To him in rank." Then farther on a space +The Centaur paus'd, near some, who at the throat +Were extant from the wave; and showing us +A spirit by itself apart retir'd, +Exclaim'd: "He in God's bosom smote the heart, +Which yet is honour'd on the bank of Thames." + +A race I next espied, who held the head, +And even all the bust above the stream. +'Midst these I many a face remember'd well. +Thus shallow more and more the blood became, +So that at last it but imbru'd the feet; +And there our passage lay athwart the foss. + +"As ever on this side the boiling wave +Thou seest diminishing," the Centaur said, +"So on the other, be thou well assur'd, +It lower still and lower sinks its bed, +Till in that part it reuniting join, +Where 't is the lot of tyranny to mourn. +There Heav'n's stern justice lays chastising hand +On Attila, who was the scourge of earth, +On Sextus, and on Pyrrhus, and extracts +Tears ever by the seething flood unlock'd +From the Rinieri, of Corneto this, +Pazzo the other nam'd, who fill'd the ways +With violence and war." This said, he turn'd, +And quitting us, alone repass'd the ford. + + + + +CANTO XIII + +ERE Nessus yet had reach'd the other bank, +We enter'd on a forest, where no track +Of steps had worn a way. Not verdant there +The foliage, but of dusky hue; not light +The boughs and tapering, but with knares deform'd +And matted thick: fruits there were none, but thorns +Instead, with venom fill'd. Less sharp than these, +Less intricate the brakes, wherein abide +Those animals, that hate the cultur'd fields, +Betwixt Corneto and Cecina's stream. + +Here the brute Harpies make their nest, the same +Who from the Strophades the Trojan band +Drove with dire boding of their future woe. +Broad are their pennons, of the human form +Their neck and count'nance, arm'd with talons keen +The feet, and the huge belly fledge with wings +These sit and wail on the drear mystic wood. + +The kind instructor in these words began: +"Ere farther thou proceed, know thou art now +I' th' second round, and shalt be, till thou come +Upon the horrid sand: look therefore well +Around thee, and such things thou shalt behold, +As would my speech discredit." On all sides +I heard sad plainings breathe, and none could see +From whom they might have issu'd. In amaze +Fast bound I stood. He, as it seem'd, believ'd, +That I had thought so many voices came +From some amid those thickets close conceal'd, +And thus his speech resum'd: "If thou lop off +A single twig from one of those ill plants, +The thought thou hast conceiv'd shall vanish quite." + +Thereat a little stretching forth my hand, +From a great wilding gather'd I a branch, +And straight the trunk exclaim'd: "Why pluck'st thou me?" + +Then as the dark blood trickled down its side, +These words it added: "Wherefore tear'st me thus? +Is there no touch of mercy in thy breast? +Men once were we, that now are rooted here. +Thy hand might well have spar'd us, had we been +The souls of serpents." As a brand yet green, +That burning at one end from the' other sends +A groaning sound, and hisses with the wind +That forces out its way, so burst at once, +Forth from the broken splinter words and blood. + +I, letting fall the bough, remain'd as one +Assail'd by terror, and the sage replied: +"If he, O injur'd spirit! could have believ'd +What he hath seen but in my verse describ'd, +He never against thee had stretch'd his hand. +But I, because the thing surpass'd belief, +Prompted him to this deed, which even now +Myself I rue. But tell me, who thou wast; +That, for this wrong to do thee some amends, +In the upper world (for thither to return +Is granted him) thy fame he may revive." + +"That pleasant word of thine," the trunk replied +"Hath so inveigled me, that I from speech +Cannot refrain, wherein if I indulge +A little longer, in the snare detain'd, +Count it not grievous. I it was, who held +Both keys to Frederick's heart, and turn'd the wards, +Opening and shutting, with a skill so sweet, +That besides me, into his inmost breast +Scarce any other could admittance find. +The faith I bore to my high charge was such, +It cost me the life-blood that warm'd my veins. +The harlot, who ne'er turn'd her gloating eyes +From Caesar's household, common vice and pest +Of courts, 'gainst me inflam'd the minds of all; +And to Augustus they so spread the flame, +That my glad honours chang'd to bitter woes. +My soul, disdainful and disgusted, sought +Refuge in death from scorn, and I became, +Just as I was, unjust toward myself. +By the new roots, which fix this stem, I swear, +That never faith I broke to my liege lord, +Who merited such honour; and of you, +If any to the world indeed return, +Clear he from wrong my memory, that lies +Yet prostrate under envy's cruel blow." + +First somewhat pausing, till the mournful words +Were ended, then to me the bard began: +"Lose not the time; but speak and of him ask, +If more thou wish to learn." Whence I replied: +"Question thou him again of whatsoe'er +Will, as thou think'st, content me; for no power +Have I to ask, such pity' is at my heart." + +He thus resum'd; "So may he do for thee +Freely what thou entreatest, as thou yet +Be pleas'd, imprison'd Spirit! to declare, +How in these gnarled joints the soul is tied; +And whether any ever from such frame +Be loosen'd, if thou canst, that also tell." + +Thereat the trunk breath'd hard, and the wind soon +Chang'd into sounds articulate like these; + +"Briefly ye shall be answer'd. When departs +The fierce soul from the body, by itself +Thence torn asunder, to the seventh gulf +By Minos doom'd, into the wood it falls, +No place assign'd, but wheresoever chance +Hurls it, there sprouting, as a grain of spelt, +It rises to a sapling, growing thence +A savage plant. The Harpies, on its leaves +Then feeding, cause both pain and for the pain +A vent to grief. We, as the rest, shall come +For our own spoils, yet not so that with them +We may again be clad; for what a man +Takes from himself it is not just he have. +Here we perforce shall drag them; and throughout +The dismal glade our bodies shall be hung, +Each on the wild thorn of his wretched shade." + +Attentive yet to listen to the trunk +We stood, expecting farther speech, when us +A noise surpris'd, as when a man perceives +The wild boar and the hunt approach his place +Of station'd watch, who of the beasts and boughs +Loud rustling round him hears. And lo! there came +Two naked, torn with briers, in headlong flight, +That they before them broke each fan o' th' wood. +"Haste now," the foremost cried, "now haste thee death!" + +The' other, as seem'd, impatient of delay +Exclaiming, "Lano! not so bent for speed +Thy sinews, in the lists of Toppo's field." +And then, for that perchance no longer breath +Suffic'd him, of himself and of a bush +One group he made. Behind them was the wood +Full of black female mastiffs, gaunt and fleet, +As greyhounds that have newly slipp'd the leash. +On him, who squatted down, they stuck their fangs, +And having rent him piecemeal bore away +The tortur'd limbs. My guide then seiz'd my hand, +And led me to the thicket, which in vain +Mourn'd through its bleeding wounds: "O Giacomo +Of Sant' Andrea! what avails it thee," +It cried, "that of me thou hast made thy screen? +For thy ill life what blame on me recoils?" + +When o'er it he had paus'd, my master spake: +"Say who wast thou, that at so many points +Breath'st out with blood thy lamentable speech?" + +He answer'd: "Oh, ye spirits: arriv'd in time +To spy the shameful havoc, that from me +My leaves hath sever'd thus, gather them up, +And at the foot of their sad parent-tree +Carefully lay them. In that city' I dwelt, +Who for the Baptist her first patron chang'd, +Whence he for this shall cease not with his art +To work her woe: and if there still remain'd not +On Arno's passage some faint glimpse of him, +Those citizens, who rear'd once more her walls +Upon the ashes left by Attila, +Had labour'd without profit of their toil. +I slung the fatal noose from my own roof." + + + + +CANTO XIV + +SOON as the charity of native land +Wrought in my bosom, I the scatter'd leaves +Collected, and to him restor'd, who now +Was hoarse with utt'rance. To the limit thence +We came, which from the third the second round +Divides, and where of justice is display'd +Contrivance horrible. Things then first seen +Clearlier to manifest, I tell how next +A plain we reach'd, that from its sterile bed +Each plant repell'd. The mournful wood waves round +Its garland on all sides, as round the wood +Spreads the sad foss. There, on the very edge, +Our steps we stay'd. It was an area wide +Of arid sand and thick, resembling most +The soil that erst by Cato's foot was trod. + +Vengeance of Heav'n! Oh! how shouldst thou be fear'd +By all, who read what here my eyes beheld! + +Of naked spirits many a flock I saw, +All weeping piteously, to different laws +Subjected: for on the' earth some lay supine, +Some crouching close were seated, others pac'd +Incessantly around; the latter tribe, +More numerous, those fewer who beneath +The torment lay, but louder in their grief. + +O'er all the sand fell slowly wafting down +Dilated flakes of fire, as flakes of snow +On Alpine summit, when the wind is hush'd. +As in the torrid Indian clime, the son +Of Ammon saw upon his warrior band +Descending, solid flames, that to the ground +Came down: whence he bethought him with his troop +To trample on the soil; for easier thus +The vapour was extinguish'd, while alone; +So fell the eternal fiery flood, wherewith +The marble glow'd underneath, as under stove +The viands, doubly to augment the pain. + +Unceasing was the play of wretched hands, +Now this, now that way glancing, to shake off +The heat, still falling fresh. I thus began: +"Instructor! thou who all things overcom'st, +Except the hardy demons, that rush'd forth +To stop our entrance at the gate, say who +Is yon huge spirit, that, as seems, heeds not +The burning, but lies writhen in proud scorn, +As by the sultry tempest immatur'd?" + +Straight he himself, who was aware I ask'd +My guide of him, exclaim'd: "Such as I was +When living, dead such now I am. If Jove +Weary his workman out, from whom in ire +He snatch'd the lightnings, that at my last day +Transfix'd me, if the rest be weary out +At their black smithy labouring by turns +In Mongibello, while he cries aloud; +"Help, help, good Mulciber!" as erst he cried +In the Phlegraean warfare, and the bolts +Launch he full aim'd at me with all his might, +He never should enjoy a sweet revenge." + +Then thus my guide, in accent higher rais'd +Than I before had heard him: "Capaneus! +Thou art more punish'd, in that this thy pride +Lives yet unquench'd: no torrent, save thy rage, +Were to thy fury pain proportion'd full." + +Next turning round to me with milder lip +He spake: "This of the seven kings was one, +Who girt the Theban walls with siege, and held, +As still he seems to hold, God in disdain, +And sets his high omnipotence at nought. +But, as I told him, his despiteful mood +Is ornament well suits the breast that wears it. +Follow me now; and look thou set not yet +Thy foot in the hot sand, but to the wood +Keep ever close." Silently on we pass'd +To where there gushes from the forest's bound +A little brook, whose crimson'd wave yet lifts +My hair with horror. As the rill, that runs +From Bulicame, to be portion'd out +Among the sinful women; so ran this +Down through the sand, its bottom and each bank +Stone-built, and either margin at its side, +Whereon I straight perceiv'd our passage lay. + +"Of all that I have shown thee, since that gate +We enter'd first, whose threshold is to none +Denied, nought else so worthy of regard, +As is this river, has thine eye discern'd, +O'er which the flaming volley all is quench'd." + +So spake my guide; and I him thence besought, +That having giv'n me appetite to know, +The food he too would give, that hunger crav'd. + +"In midst of ocean," forthwith he began, +"A desolate country lies, which Crete is nam'd, +Under whose monarch in old times the world +Liv'd pure and chaste. A mountain rises there, +Call'd Ida, joyous once with leaves and streams, +Deserted now like a forbidden thing. +It was the spot which Rhea, Saturn's spouse, +Chose for the secret cradle of her son; +And better to conceal him, drown'd in shouts +His infant cries. Within the mount, upright +An ancient form there stands and huge, that turns +His shoulders towards Damiata, and at Rome +As in his mirror looks. Of finest gold +His head is shap'd, pure silver are the breast +And arms; thence to the middle is of brass. +And downward all beneath well-temper'd steel, +Save the right foot of potter's clay, on which +Than on the other more erect he stands, +Each part except the gold, is rent throughout; +And from the fissure tears distil, which join'd +Penetrate to that cave. They in their course +Thus far precipitated down the rock +Form Acheron, and Styx, and Phlegethon; +Then by this straiten'd channel passing hence +Beneath, e'en to the lowest depth of all, +Form there Cocytus, of whose lake (thyself +Shall see it) I here give thee no account." + +Then I to him: "If from our world this sluice +Be thus deriv'd; wherefore to us but now +Appears it at this edge?" He straight replied: +"The place, thou know'st, is round; and though great part +Thou have already pass'd, still to the left +Descending to the nethermost, not yet +Hast thou the circuit made of the whole orb. +Wherefore if aught of new to us appear, +It needs not bring up wonder in thy looks." + +Then I again inquir'd: "Where flow the streams +Of Phlegethon and Lethe? for of one +Thou tell'st not, and the other of that shower, +Thou say'st, is form'd." He answer thus return'd: +"Doubtless thy questions all well pleas'd I hear. +Yet the red seething wave might have resolv'd +One thou proposest. Lethe thou shalt see, +But not within this hollow, in the place, +Whither to lave themselves the spirits go, +Whose blame hath been by penitence remov'd." +He added: "Time is now we quit the wood. +Look thou my steps pursue: the margins give +Safe passage, unimpeded by the flames; +For over them all vapour is extinct." + + + + +CANTO XV + +One of the solid margins bears us now +Envelop'd in the mist, that from the stream +Arising, hovers o'er, and saves from fire +Both piers and water. As the Flemings rear +Their mound, 'twixt Ghent and Bruges, to chase back +The ocean, fearing his tumultuous tide +That drives toward them, or the Paduans theirs +Along the Brenta, to defend their towns +And castles, ere the genial warmth be felt +On Chiarentana's top; such were the mounds, +So fram'd, though not in height or bulk to these +Made equal, by the master, whosoe'er +He was, that rais'd them here. We from the wood +Were not so far remov'd, that turning round +I might not have discern'd it, when we met +A troop of spirits, who came beside the pier. + +They each one ey'd us, as at eventide +One eyes another under a new moon, +And toward us sharpen'd their sight as keen, +As an old tailor at his needle's eye. + +Thus narrowly explor'd by all the tribe, +I was agniz'd of one, who by the skirt +Caught me, and cried, "What wonder have we here!" + +And I, when he to me outstretch'd his arm, +Intently fix'd my ken on his parch'd looks, +That although smirch'd with fire, they hinder'd not +But I remember'd him; and towards his face +My hand inclining, answer'd: "Sir! Brunetto! + +"And art thou here?" He thus to me: "My son! +Oh let it not displease thee, if Brunetto +Latini but a little space with thee +Turn back, and leave his fellows to proceed." + +I thus to him replied: "Much as I can, +I thereto pray thee; and if thou be willing, +That I here seat me with thee, I consent; +His leave, with whom I journey, first obtain'd." + +"O son!" said he, "whoever of this throng +One instant stops, lies then a hundred years, +No fan to ventilate him, when the fire +Smites sorest. Pass thou therefore on. I close +Will at thy garments walk, and then rejoin +My troop, who go mourning their endless doom." + +I dar'd not from the path descend to tread +On equal ground with him, but held my head +Bent down, as one who walks in reverent guise. + +"What chance or destiny," thus he began, +"Ere the last day conducts thee here below? +And who is this, that shows to thee the way?" + +"There up aloft," I answer'd, "in the life +Serene, I wander'd in a valley lost, +Before mine age had to its fullness reach'd. +But yester-morn I left it: then once more +Into that vale returning, him I met; +And by this path homeward he leads me back." + +"If thou," he answer'd, "follow but thy star, +Thou canst not miss at last a glorious haven: +Unless in fairer days my judgment err'd. +And if my fate so early had not chanc'd, +Seeing the heav'ns thus bounteous to thee, I +Had gladly giv'n thee comfort in thy work. +But that ungrateful and malignant race, +Who in old times came down from Fesole, +Ay and still smack of their rough mountain-flint, +Will for thy good deeds shew thee enmity. +Nor wonder; for amongst ill-savour'd crabs +It suits not the sweet fig-tree lay her fruit. +Old fame reports them in the world for blind, +Covetous, envious, proud. Look to it well: +Take heed thou cleanse thee of their ways. For thee +Thy fortune hath such honour in reserve, +That thou by either party shalt be crav'd +With hunger keen: but be the fresh herb far +From the goat's tooth. The herd of Fesole +May of themselves make litter, not touch the plant, +If any such yet spring on their rank bed, +In which the holy seed revives, transmitted +From those true Romans, who still there remain'd, +When it was made the nest of so much ill." + +"Were all my wish fulfill'd," I straight replied, +"Thou from the confines of man's nature yet +Hadst not been driven forth; for in my mind +Is fix'd, and now strikes full upon my heart +The dear, benign, paternal image, such +As thine was, when so lately thou didst teach me +The way for man to win eternity; +And how I priz'd the lesson, it behooves, +That, long as life endures, my tongue should speak, +What of my fate thou tell'st, that write I down: +And with another text to comment on +For her I keep it, the celestial dame, +Who will know all, if I to her arrive. +This only would I have thee clearly note: +That so my conscience have no plea against me; +Do fortune as she list, I stand prepar'd. +Not new or strange such earnest to mine ear. +Speed fortune then her wheel, as likes her best, +The clown his mattock; all things have their course." + +Thereat my sapient guide upon his right +Turn'd himself back, then look'd at me and spake: +"He listens to good purpose who takes note." + +I not the less still on my way proceed, +Discoursing with Brunetto, and inquire +Who are most known and chief among his tribe. + +"To know of some is well;" thus he replied, +"But of the rest silence may best beseem. +Time would not serve us for report so long. +In brief I tell thee, that all these were clerks, +Men of great learning and no less renown, +By one same sin polluted in the world. +With them is Priscian, and Accorso's son +Francesco herds among that wretched throng: +And, if the wish of so impure a blotch +Possess'd thee, him thou also might'st have seen, +Who by the servants' servant was transferr'd +From Arno's seat to Bacchiglione, where +His ill-strain'd nerves he left. I more would add, +But must from farther speech and onward way +Alike desist, for yonder I behold +A mist new-risen on the sandy plain. +A company, with whom I may not sort, +Approaches. I commend my TREASURE to thee, +Wherein I yet survive; my sole request." + +This said he turn'd, and seem'd as one of those, +Who o'er Verona's champain try their speed +For the green mantle, and of them he seem'd, +Not he who loses but who gains the prize. + + + + +CANTO XVI + +NOW came I where the water's din was heard, +As down it fell into the other round, +Resounding like the hum of swarming bees: +When forth together issu'd from a troop, +That pass'd beneath the fierce tormenting storm, +Three spirits, running swift. They towards us came, +And each one cried aloud, "Oh do thou stay! +Whom by the fashion of thy garb we deem +To be some inmate of our evil land." + +Ah me! what wounds I mark'd upon their limbs, +Recent and old, inflicted by the flames! +E'en the remembrance of them grieves me yet. + +Attentive to their cry my teacher paus'd, +And turn'd to me his visage, and then spake; +"Wait now! our courtesy these merit well: +And were 't not for the nature of the place, +Whence glide the fiery darts, I should have said, +That haste had better suited thee than them." + +They, when we stopp'd, resum'd their ancient wail, +And soon as they had reach'd us, all the three +Whirl'd round together in one restless wheel. +As naked champions, smear'd with slippery oil, +Are wont intent to watch their place of hold +And vantage, ere in closer strife they meet; +Thus each one, as he wheel'd, his countenance +At me directed, so that opposite +The neck mov'd ever to the twinkling feet. + +"If misery of this drear wilderness," +Thus one began, "added to our sad cheer +And destitute, do call forth scorn on us +And our entreaties, let our great renown +Incline thee to inform us who thou art, +That dost imprint with living feet unharm'd +The soil of Hell. He, in whose track thou see'st +My steps pursuing, naked though he be +And reft of all, was of more high estate +Than thou believest; grandchild of the chaste +Gualdrada, him they Guidoguerra call'd, +Who in his lifetime many a noble act +Achiev'd, both by his wisdom and his sword. +The other, next to me that beats the sand, +Is Aldobrandi, name deserving well, +In the' upper world, of honour; and myself +Who in this torment do partake with them, +Am Rusticucci, whom, past doubt, my wife +Of savage temper, more than aught beside +Hath to this evil brought." If from the fire +I had been shelter'd, down amidst them straight +I then had cast me, nor my guide, I deem, +Would have restrain'd my going; but that fear +Of the dire burning vanquish'd the desire, +Which made me eager of their wish'd embrace. + +I then began: "Not scorn, but grief much more, +Such as long time alone can cure, your doom +Fix'd deep within me, soon as this my lord +Spake words, whose tenour taught me to expect +That such a race, as ye are, was at hand. +I am a countryman of yours, who still +Affectionate have utter'd, and have heard +Your deeds and names renown'd. Leaving the gall +For the sweet fruit I go, that a sure guide +Hath promis'd to me. But behooves, that far +As to the centre first I downward tend." + +"So may long space thy spirit guide thy limbs," +He answer straight return'd; "and so thy fame +Shine bright, when thou art gone; as thou shalt tell, +If courtesy and valour, as they wont, +Dwell in our city, or have vanish'd clean? +For one amidst us late condemn'd to wail, +Borsiere, yonder walking with his peers, +Grieves us no little by the news he brings." + +"An upstart multitude and sudden gains, +Pride and excess, O Florence! have in thee +Engender'd, so that now in tears thou mourn'st!" +Thus cried I with my face uprais'd, and they +All three, who for an answer took my words, +Look'd at each other, as men look when truth +Comes to their ear. "If thou at other times," +They all at once rejoin'd, "so easily +Satisfy those, who question, happy thou, +Gifted with words, so apt to speak thy thought! +Wherefore if thou escape this darksome clime, +Returning to behold the radiant stars, +When thou with pleasure shalt retrace the past, +See that of us thou speak among mankind." + +This said, they broke the circle, and so swift +Fled, that as pinions seem'd their nimble feet. + +Not in so short a time might one have said +"Amen," as they had vanish'd. Straight my guide +Pursu'd his track. I follow'd; and small space +Had we pass'd onward, when the water's sound +Was now so near at hand, that we had scarce +Heard one another's speech for the loud din. + +E'en as the river, that holds on its course +Unmingled, from the mount of Vesulo, +On the left side of Apennine, toward +The east, which Acquacheta higher up +They call, ere it descend into the vale, +At Forli by that name no longer known, +Rebellows o'er Saint Benedict, roll'd on +From the' Alpine summit down a precipice, +Where space enough to lodge a thousand spreads; +Thus downward from a craggy steep we found, +That this dark wave resounded, roaring loud, +So that the ear its clamour soon had stunn'd. + +I had a cord that brac'd my girdle round, +Wherewith I erst had thought fast bound to take +The painted leopard. This when I had all +Unloosen'd from me (so my master bade) +I gather'd up, and stretch'd it forth to him. +Then to the right he turn'd, and from the brink +Standing few paces distant, cast it down +Into the deep abyss. "And somewhat strange," +Thus to myself I spake, "signal so strange +Betokens, which my guide with earnest eye +Thus follows." Ah! what caution must men use +With those who look not at the deed alone, +But spy into the thoughts with subtle skill! + +"Quickly shall come," he said, "what I expect, +Thine eye discover quickly, that whereof +Thy thought is dreaming." Ever to that truth, +Which but the semblance of a falsehood wears, +A man, if possible, should bar his lip; +Since, although blameless, he incurs reproach. +But silence here were vain; and by these notes +Which now I sing, reader! I swear to thee, +So may they favour find to latest times! +That through the gross and murky air I spied +A shape come swimming up, that might have quell'd +The stoutest heart with wonder, in such guise +As one returns, who hath been down to loose +An anchor grappled fast against some rock, +Or to aught else that in the salt wave lies, +Who upward springing close draws in his feet. + + + + +CANTO XVII + +"LO! the fell monster with the deadly sting! +Who passes mountains, breaks through fenced walls +And firm embattled spears, and with his filth +Taints all the world!" Thus me my guide address'd, +And beckon'd him, that he should come to shore, +Near to the stony causeway's utmost edge. + +Forthwith that image vile of fraud appear'd, +His head and upper part expos'd on land, +But laid not on the shore his bestial train. +His face the semblance of a just man's wore, +So kind and gracious was its outward cheer; +The rest was serpent all: two shaggy claws +Reach'd to the armpits, and the back and breast, +And either side, were painted o'er with nodes +And orbits. Colours variegated more +Nor Turks nor Tartars e'er on cloth of state +With interchangeable embroidery wove, +Nor spread Arachne o'er her curious loom. +As ofttimes a light skiff, moor'd to the shore, +Stands part in water, part upon the land; +Or, as where dwells the greedy German boor, +The beaver settles watching for his prey; +So on the rim, that fenc'd the sand with rock, +Sat perch'd the fiend of evil. In the void +Glancing, his tail upturn'd its venomous fork, +With sting like scorpion's arm'd. Then thus my guide: +"Now need our way must turn few steps apart, +Far as to that ill beast, who couches there." + +Thereat toward the right our downward course +We shap'd, and, better to escape the flame +And burning marle, ten paces on the verge +Proceeded. Soon as we to him arrive, +A little further on mine eye beholds +A tribe of spirits, seated on the sand +Near the wide chasm. Forthwith my master spake: +"That to the full thy knowledge may extend +Of all this round contains, go now, and mark +The mien these wear: but hold not long discourse. +Till thou returnest, I with him meantime +Will parley, that to us he may vouchsafe +The aid of his strong shoulders." Thus alone +Yet forward on the' extremity I pac'd +Of that seventh circle, where the mournful tribe +Were seated. At the eyes forth gush'd their pangs. +Against the vapours and the torrid soil +Alternately their shifting hands they plied. +Thus use the dogs in summer still to ply +Their jaws and feet by turns, when bitten sore +By gnats, or flies, or gadflies swarming round. + +Noting the visages of some, who lay +Beneath the pelting of that dolorous fire, +One of them all I knew not; but perceiv'd, +That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch +With colours and with emblems various mark'd, +On which it seem'd as if their eye did feed. + +And when amongst them looking round I came, +A yellow purse I saw with azure wrought, +That wore a lion's countenance and port. +Then still my sight pursuing its career, +Another I beheld, than blood more red. +A goose display of whiter wing than curd. +And one, who bore a fat and azure swine +Pictur'd on his white scrip, addressed me thus: +"What dost thou in this deep? Go now and know, +Since yet thou livest, that my neighbour here +Vitaliano on my left shall sit. +A Paduan with these Florentines am I. +Ofttimes they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming +'O haste that noble knight! he who the pouch +With the three beaks will bring!'" This said, he writh'd +The mouth, and loll'd the tongue out, like an ox +That licks his nostrils. I, lest longer stay +He ill might brook, who bade me stay not long, +Backward my steps from those sad spirits turn'd. + +My guide already seated on the haunch +Of the fierce animal I found; and thus +He me encourag'd. "Be thou stout; be bold. +Down such a steep flight must we now descend! +Mount thou before: for that no power the tail +May have to harm thee, I will be i' th' midst." + +As one, who hath an ague fit so near, +His nails already are turn'd blue, and he +Quivers all o'er, if he but eye the shade; +Such was my cheer at hearing of his words. +But shame soon interpos'd her threat, who makes +The servant bold in presence of his lord. + +I settled me upon those shoulders huge, +And would have said, but that the words to aid +My purpose came not, "Look thou clasp me firm!" + +But he whose succour then not first I prov'd, +Soon as I mounted, in his arms aloft, +Embracing, held me up, and thus he spake: +"Geryon! now move thee! be thy wheeling gyres +Of ample circuit, easy thy descent. +Think on th' unusual burden thou sustain'st." + +As a small vessel, back'ning out from land, +Her station quits; so thence the monster loos'd, +And when he felt himself at large, turn'd round +There where the breast had been, his forked tail. +Thus, like an eel, outstretch'd at length he steer'd, +Gath'ring the air up with retractile claws. + +Not greater was the dread when Phaeton +The reins let drop at random, whence high heaven, +Whereof signs yet appear, was wrapt in flames; +Nor when ill-fated Icarus perceiv'd, +By liquefaction of the scalded wax, +The trusted pennons loosen'd from his loins, +His sire exclaiming loud, "Ill way thou keep'st!" +Than was my dread, when round me on each part +The air I view'd, and other object none +Save the fell beast. He slowly sailing, wheels +His downward motion, unobserv'd of me, +But that the wind, arising to my face, +Breathes on me from below. Now on our right +I heard the cataract beneath us leap +With hideous crash; whence bending down to' explore, +New terror I conceiv'd at the steep plunge: + +For flames I saw, and wailings smote mine ear: +So that all trembling close I crouch'd my limbs, +And then distinguish'd, unperceiv'd before, +By the dread torments that on every side +Drew nearer, how our downward course we wound. + +As falcon, that hath long been on the wing, +But lure nor bird hath seen, while in despair +The falconer cries, "Ah me! thou stoop'st to earth!" +Wearied descends, and swiftly down the sky +In many an orbit wheels, then lighting sits +At distance from his lord in angry mood; +So Geryon lighting places us on foot +Low down at base of the deep-furrow'd rock, +And, of his burden there discharg'd, forthwith +Sprang forward, like an arrow from the string. + + + + +CANTO XVIII + +THERE is a place within the depths of hell +Call'd Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain'd +With hue ferruginous, e'en as the steep +That round it circling winds. Right in the midst +Of that abominable region, yawns +A spacious gulf profound, whereof the frame +Due time shall tell. The circle, that remains, +Throughout its round, between the gulf and base +Of the high craggy banks, successive forms +Ten trenches, in its hollow bottom sunk. + +As where to guard the walls, full many a foss +Begirds some stately castle, sure defence +Affording to the space within, so here +Were model'd these; and as like fortresses +E'en from their threshold to the brink without, +Are flank'd with bridges; from the rock's low base +Thus flinty paths advanc'd, that 'cross the moles +And dikes, struck onward far as to the gulf, +That in one bound collected cuts them off. +Such was the place, wherein we found ourselves +From Geryon's back dislodg'd. The bard to left +Held on his way, and I behind him mov'd. + +On our right hand new misery I saw, +New pains, new executioners of wrath, +That swarming peopled the first chasm. Below +Were naked sinners. Hitherward they came, +Meeting our faces from the middle point, +With us beyond but with a larger stride. +E'en thus the Romans, when the year returns +Of Jubilee, with better speed to rid +The thronging multitudes, their means devise +For such as pass the bridge; that on one side +All front toward the castle, and approach +Saint Peter's fane, on th' other towards the mount. + +Each divers way along the grisly rock, +Horn'd demons I beheld, with lashes huge, +That on their back unmercifully smote. +Ah! how they made them bound at the first stripe! + +None for the second waited nor the third. + +Meantime as on I pass'd, one met my sight +Whom soon as view'd; "Of him," cried I, "not yet +Mine eye hath had his fill." With fixed gaze +I therefore scann'd him. Straight the teacher kind +Paus'd with me, and consented I should walk +Backward a space, and the tormented spirit, +Who thought to hide him, bent his visage down. +But it avail'd him nought; for I exclaim'd: +"Thou who dost cast thy eye upon the ground, +Unless thy features do belie thee much, +Venedico art thou. But what brings thee +Into this bitter seas'ning?" He replied: +"Unwillingly I answer to thy words. +But thy clear speech, that to my mind recalls +The world I once inhabited, constrains me. +Know then 'twas I who led fair Ghisola +To do the Marquis' will, however fame +The shameful tale have bruited. Nor alone +Bologna hither sendeth me to mourn +Rather with us the place is so o'erthrong'd +That not so many tongues this day are taught, +Betwixt the Reno and Savena's stream, +To answer SIPA in their country's phrase. +And if of that securer proof thou need, +Remember but our craving thirst for gold." + +Him speaking thus, a demon with his thong +Struck, and exclaim'd, "Away! corrupter! here +Women are none for sale." Forthwith I join'd +My escort, and few paces thence we came +To where a rock forth issued from the bank. +That easily ascended, to the right +Upon its splinter turning, we depart +From those eternal barriers. When arriv'd, +Where underneath the gaping arch lets pass +The scourged souls: "Pause here," the teacher said, +"And let these others miserable, now +Strike on thy ken, faces not yet beheld, +For that together they with us have walk'd." + +From the old bridge we ey'd the pack, who came +From th' other side towards us, like the rest, +Excoriate from the lash. My gentle guide, +By me unquestion'd, thus his speech resum'd: +"Behold that lofty shade, who this way tends, +And seems too woe-begone to drop a tear. +How yet the regal aspect he retains! +Jason is he, whose skill and prowess won +The ram from Colchos. To the Lemnian isle +His passage thither led him, when those bold +And pitiless women had slain all their males. +There he with tokens and fair witching words +Hypsipyle beguil'd, a virgin young, +Who first had all the rest herself beguil'd. +Impregnated he left her there forlorn. +Such is the guilt condemns him to this pain. +Here too Medea's inj'ries are avenged. +All bear him company, who like deceit +To his have practis'd. And thus much to know +Of the first vale suffice thee, and of those +Whom its keen torments urge." Now had we come +Where, crossing the next pier, the straighten'd path +Bestrides its shoulders to another arch. + +Hence in the second chasm we heard the ghosts, +Who jibber in low melancholy sounds, +With wide-stretch'd nostrils snort, and on themselves +Smite with their palms. Upon the banks a scurf +From the foul steam condens'd, encrusting hung, +That held sharp combat with the sight and smell. + +So hollow is the depth, that from no part, +Save on the summit of the rocky span, +Could I distinguish aught. Thus far we came; +And thence I saw, within the foss below, +A crowd immers'd in ordure, that appear'd +Draff of the human body. There beneath +Searching with eye inquisitive, I mark'd +One with his head so grim'd, 't were hard to deem, +If he were clerk or layman. Loud he cried: +"Why greedily thus bendest more on me, +Than on these other filthy ones, thy ken?" + +"Because if true my mem'ry," I replied, +"I heretofore have seen thee with dry locks, +And thou Alessio art of Lucca sprung. +Therefore than all the rest I scan thee more." + +Then beating on his brain these words he spake: +"Me thus low down my flatteries have sunk, +Wherewith I ne'er enough could glut my tongue." + +My leader thus: "A little further stretch +Thy face, that thou the visage well mayst note +Of that besotted, sluttish courtezan, +Who there doth rend her with defiled nails, +Now crouching down, now risen on her feet. + +"Thais is this, the harlot, whose false lip +Answer'd her doting paramour that ask'd, +'Thankest me much!'--'Say rather wondrously,' +And seeing this here satiate be our view." + + + + +CANTO XIX + +WOE to thee, Simon Magus! woe to you, +His wretched followers! who the things of God, +Which should be wedded unto goodness, them, +Rapacious as ye are, do prostitute +For gold and silver in adultery! +Now must the trumpet sound for you, since yours +Is the third chasm. Upon the following vault +We now had mounted, where the rock impends +Directly o'er the centre of the foss. + +Wisdom Supreme! how wonderful the art, +Which thou dost manifest in heaven, in earth, +And in the evil world, how just a meed +Allotting by thy virtue unto all! + +I saw the livid stone, throughout the sides +And in its bottom full of apertures, +All equal in their width, and circular each, +Nor ample less nor larger they appear'd +Than in Saint John's fair dome of me belov'd +Those fram'd to hold the pure baptismal streams, +One of the which I brake, some few years past, +To save a whelming infant; and be this +A seal to undeceive whoever doubts +The motive of my deed. From out the mouth +Of every one, emerg'd a sinner's feet +And of the legs high upward as the calf +The rest beneath was hid. On either foot +The soles were burning, whence the flexile joints +Glanc'd with such violent motion, as had snapt +Asunder cords or twisted withs. As flame, +Feeding on unctuous matter, glides along +The surface, scarcely touching where it moves; +So here, from heel to point, glided the flames. + +"Master! say who is he, than all the rest +Glancing in fiercer agony, on whom +A ruddier flame doth prey?" I thus inquir'd. + +"If thou be willing," he replied, "that I +Carry thee down, where least the slope bank falls, +He of himself shall tell thee and his wrongs." + +I then: "As pleases thee to me is best. +Thou art my lord; and know'st that ne'er I quit +Thy will: what silence hides that knowest thou." +Thereat on the fourth pier we came, we turn'd, +And on our left descended to the depth, +A narrow strait and perforated close. +Nor from his side my leader set me down, +Till to his orifice he brought, whose limb +Quiv'ring express'd his pang. "Whoe'er thou art, +Sad spirit! thus revers'd, and as a stake +Driv'n in the soil!" I in these words began, +"If thou be able, utter forth thy voice." + +There stood I like the friar, that doth shrive +A wretch for murder doom'd, who e'en when fix'd, +Calleth him back, whence death awhile delays. + +He shouted: "Ha! already standest there? +Already standest there, O Boniface! +By many a year the writing play'd me false. +So early dost thou surfeit with the wealth, +For which thou fearedst not in guile to take +The lovely lady, and then mangle her?" + +I felt as those who, piercing not the drift +Of answer made them, stand as if expos'd +In mockery, nor know what to reply, +When Virgil thus admonish'd: "Tell him quick, +I am not he, not he, whom thou believ'st." + +And I, as was enjoin'd me, straight replied. + +That heard, the spirit all did wrench his feet, +And sighing next in woeful accent spake: +"What then of me requirest? If to know +So much imports thee, who I am, that thou +Hast therefore down the bank descended, learn +That in the mighty mantle I was rob'd, +And of a she-bear was indeed the son, +So eager to advance my whelps, that there +My having in my purse above I stow'd, +And here myself. Under my head are dragg'd +The rest, my predecessors in the guilt +Of simony. Stretch'd at their length they lie +Along an opening in the rock. 'Midst them +I also low shall fall, soon as he comes, +For whom I took thee, when so hastily +I question'd. But already longer time +Hath pass'd, since my souls kindled, and I thus +Upturn'd have stood, than is his doom to stand +Planted with fiery feet. For after him, +One yet of deeds more ugly shall arrive, +From forth the west, a shepherd without law, +Fated to cover both his form and mine. +He a new Jason shall be call'd, of whom +In Maccabees we read; and favour such +As to that priest his king indulgent show'd, +Shall be of France's monarch shown to him." + +I know not if I here too far presum'd, +But in this strain I answer'd: "Tell me now, +What treasures from St. Peter at the first +Our Lord demanded, when he put the keys +Into his charge? Surely he ask'd no more +But, Follow me! Nor Peter nor the rest +Or gold or silver of Matthias took, +When lots were cast upon the forfeit place +Of the condemned soul. Abide thou then; +Thy punishment of right is merited: +And look thou well to that ill-gotten coin, +Which against Charles thy hardihood inspir'd. +If reverence of the keys restrain'd me not, +Which thou in happier time didst hold, I yet +Severer speech might use. Your avarice +O'ercasts the world with mourning, under foot +Treading the good, and raising bad men up. +Of shepherds, like to you, th' Evangelist +Was ware, when her, who sits upon the waves, +With kings in filthy whoredom he beheld, +She who with seven heads tower'd at her birth, +And from ten horns her proof of glory drew, +Long as her spouse in virtue took delight. +Of gold and silver ye have made your god, +Diff'ring wherein from the idolater, +But he that worships one, a hundred ye? +Ah, Constantine! to how much ill gave birth, +Not thy conversion, but that plenteous dower, +Which the first wealthy Father gain'd from thee!" + +Meanwhile, as thus I sung, he, whether wrath +Or conscience smote him, violent upsprang +Spinning on either sole. I do believe +My teacher well was pleas'd, with so compos'd +A lip, he listen'd ever to the sound +Of the true words I utter'd. In both arms +He caught, and to his bosom lifting me +Upward retrac'd the way of his descent. + +Nor weary of his weight he press'd me close, +Till to the summit of the rock we came, +Our passage from the fourth to the fifth pier. +His cherish'd burden there gently he plac'd +Upon the rugged rock and steep, a path +Not easy for the clamb'ring goat to mount. + +Thence to my view another vale appear'd + + + + +CANTO XX + +AND now the verse proceeds to torments new, +Fit argument of this the twentieth strain +Of the first song, whose awful theme records +The spirits whelm'd in woe. Earnest I look'd +Into the depth, that open'd to my view, +Moisten'd with tears of anguish, and beheld +A tribe, that came along the hollow vale, +In silence weeping: such their step as walk +Quires chanting solemn litanies on earth. + +As on them more direct mine eye descends, +Each wondrously seem'd to be revers'd +At the neck-bone, so that the countenance +Was from the reins averted: and because +None might before him look, they were compell'd +To' advance with backward gait. Thus one perhaps +Hath been by force of palsy clean transpos'd, +But I ne'er saw it nor believe it so. + +Now, reader! think within thyself, so God +Fruit of thy reading give thee! how I long +Could keep my visage dry, when I beheld +Near me our form distorted in such guise, +That on the hinder parts fall'n from the face +The tears down-streaming roll'd. Against a rock +I leant and wept, so that my guide exclaim'd: +"What, and art thou too witless as the rest? +Here pity most doth show herself alive, +When she is dead. What guilt exceedeth his, +Who with Heaven's judgment in his passion strives? +Raise up thy head, raise up, and see the man, +Before whose eyes earth gap'd in Thebes, when all +Cried out, 'Amphiaraus, whither rushest? +'Why leavest thou the war?' He not the less +Fell ruining far as to Minos down, +Whose grapple none eludes. Lo! how he makes +The breast his shoulders, and who once too far +Before him wish'd to see, now backward looks, +And treads reverse his path. Tiresias note, +Who semblance chang'd, when woman he became +Of male, through every limb transform'd, and then +Once more behov'd him with his rod to strike +The two entwining serpents, ere the plumes, +That mark'd the better sex, might shoot again. + +"Aruns, with more his belly facing, comes. +On Luni's mountains 'midst the marbles white, +Where delves Carrara's hind, who wons beneath, +A cavern was his dwelling, whence the stars +And main-sea wide in boundless view he held. + +"The next, whose loosen'd tresses overspread +Her bosom, which thou seest not (for each hair +On that side grows) was Manto, she who search'd +Through many regions, and at length her seat +Fix'd in my native land, whence a short space +My words detain thy audience. When her sire +From life departed, and in servitude +The city dedicate to Bacchus mourn'd, +Long time she went a wand'rer through the world. +Aloft in Italy's delightful land +A lake there lies, at foot of that proud Alp, +That o'er the Tyrol locks Germania in, +Its name Benacus, which a thousand rills, +Methinks, and more, water between the vale +Camonica and Garda and the height +Of Apennine remote. There is a spot +At midway of that lake, where he who bears +Of Trento's flock the past'ral staff, with him +Of Brescia, and the Veronese, might each +Passing that way his benediction give. +A garrison of goodly site and strong +Peschiera stands, to awe with front oppos'd +The Bergamese and Brescian, whence the shore +More slope each way descends. There, whatsoev'er +Benacus' bosom holds not, tumbling o'er +Down falls, and winds a river flood beneath +Through the green pastures. Soon as in his course +The steam makes head, Benacus then no more +They call the name, but Mincius, till at last +Reaching Governo into Po he falls. +Not far his course hath run, when a wide flat +It finds, which overstretchmg as a marsh +It covers, pestilent in summer oft. +Hence journeying, the savage maiden saw +'Midst of the fen a territory waste +And naked of inhabitants. To shun +All human converse, here she with her slaves +Plying her arts remain'd, and liv'd, and left +Her body tenantless. Thenceforth the tribes, +Who round were scatter'd, gath'ring to that place +Assembled; for its strength was great, enclos'd +On all parts by the fen. On those dead bones +They rear'd themselves a city, for her sake, +Calling it Mantua, who first chose the spot, +Nor ask'd another omen for the name, +Wherein more numerous the people dwelt, +Ere Casalodi's madness by deceit +Was wrong'd of Pinamonte. If thou hear +Henceforth another origin assign'd +Of that my country, I forewarn thee now, +That falsehood none beguile thee of the truth." + +I answer'd: "Teacher, I conclude thy words +So certain, that all else shall be to me +As embers lacking life. But now of these, +Who here proceed, instruct me, if thou see +Any that merit more especial note. +For thereon is my mind alone intent." + +He straight replied: "That spirit, from whose cheek +The beard sweeps o'er his shoulders brown, what time +Graecia was emptied of her males, that scarce +The cradles were supplied, the seer was he +In Aulis, who with Calchas gave the sign +When first to cut the cable. Him they nam'd +Eurypilus: so sings my tragic strain, +In which majestic measure well thou know'st, +Who know'st it all. That other, round the loins +So slender of his shape, was Michael Scot, +Practis'd in ev'ry slight of magic wile. + +"Guido Bonatti see: Asdente mark, +Who now were willing, he had tended still +The thread and cordwain; and too late repents. + +"See next the wretches, who the needle left, +The shuttle and the spindle, and became +Diviners: baneful witcheries they wrought +With images and herbs. But onward now: +For now doth Cain with fork of thorns confine +On either hemisphere, touching the wave +Beneath the towers of Seville. Yesternight +The moon was round. Thou mayst remember well: +For she good service did thee in the gloom +Of the deep wood." This said, both onward mov'd. + + + + +CANTO XXI + +THUS we from bridge to bridge, with other talk, +The which my drama cares not to rehearse, +Pass'd on; and to the summit reaching, stood +To view another gap, within the round +Of Malebolge, other bootless pangs. + +Marvelous darkness shadow'd o'er the place. + +In the Venetians' arsenal as boils +Through wintry months tenacious pitch, to smear +Their unsound vessels; for th' inclement time +Sea-faring men restrains, and in that while +His bark one builds anew, another stops +The ribs of his, that hath made many a voyage; +One hammers at the prow, one at the poop; +This shapeth oars, that other cables twirls, +The mizen one repairs and main-sail rent +So not by force of fire but art divine +Boil'd here a glutinous thick mass, that round +Lim'd all the shore beneath. I that beheld, +But therein nought distinguish'd, save the surge, +Rais'd by the boiling, in one mighty swell +Heave, and by turns subsiding and fall. While there +I fix'd my ken below, "Mark! mark!" my guide +Exclaiming, drew me towards him from the place, +Wherein I stood. I turn'd myself as one, +Impatient to behold that which beheld +He needs must shun, whom sudden fear unmans, +That he his flight delays not for the view. +Behind me I discern'd a devil black, +That running, up advanc'd along the rock. +Ah! what fierce cruelty his look bespake! +In act how bitter did he seem, with wings +Buoyant outstretch'd and feet of nimblest tread! +His shoulder proudly eminent and sharp +Was with a sinner charg'd; by either haunch +He held him, the foot's sinew griping fast. + +"Ye of our bridge!" he cried, "keen-talon'd fiends! +Lo! one of Santa Zita's elders! Him +Whelm ye beneath, while I return for more. +That land hath store of such. All men are there, +Except Bonturo, barterers: of 'no' +For lucre there an 'aye' is quickly made." + +Him dashing down, o'er the rough rock he turn'd, +Nor ever after thief a mastiff loos'd +Sped with like eager haste. That other sank +And forthwith writing to the surface rose. +But those dark demons, shrouded by the bridge, +Cried "Here the hallow'd visage saves not: here +Is other swimming than in Serchio's wave. +Wherefore if thou desire we rend thee not, +Take heed thou mount not o'er the pitch." This said, +They grappled him with more than hundred hooks, +And shouted: "Cover'd thou must sport thee here; +So, if thou canst, in secret mayst thou filch." + +E'en thus the cook bestirs him, with his grooms, +To thrust the flesh into the caldron down +With flesh-hooks, that it float not on the top. + +Me then my guide bespake: "Lest they descry, +That thou art here, behind a craggy rock +Bend low and screen thee; and whate'er of force +Be offer'd me, or insult, fear thou not: +For I am well advis'd, who have been erst +In the like fray." Beyond the bridge's head +Therewith he pass'd, and reaching the sixth pier, +Behov'd him then a forehead terror-proof. + +With storm and fury, as when dogs rush forth +Upon the poor man's back, who suddenly +From whence he standeth makes his suit; so rush'd +Those from beneath the arch, and against him +Their weapons all they pointed. He aloud: +"Be none of you outrageous: ere your time +Dare seize me, come forth from amongst you one, + +"Who having heard my words, decide he then +If he shall tear these limbs." They shouted loud, +"Go, Malacoda!" Whereat one advanc'd, +The others standing firm, and as he came, +"What may this turn avail him?" he exclaim'd. + +"Believ'st thou, Malacoda! I had come +Thus far from all your skirmishing secure," +My teacher answered, "without will divine +And destiny propitious? Pass we then +For so Heaven's pleasure is, that I should lead +Another through this savage wilderness." + +Forthwith so fell his pride, that he let drop +The instrument of torture at his feet, +And to the rest exclaim'd: "We have no power +To strike him." Then to me my guide: "O thou! +Who on the bridge among the crags dost sit +Low crouching, safely now to me return." + +I rose, and towards him moved with speed: the fiends +Meantime all forward drew: me terror seiz'd +Lest they should break the compact they had made. +Thus issuing from Caprona, once I saw +Th' infantry dreading, lest his covenant +The foe should break; so close he hemm'd them round. + +I to my leader's side adher'd, mine eyes +With fixt and motionless observance bent +On their unkindly visage. They their hooks +Protruding, one the other thus bespake: +"Wilt thou I touch him on the hip?" To whom +Was answer'd: "Even so; nor miss thy aim." + +But he, who was in conf'rence with my guide, +Turn'd rapid round, and thus the demon spake: +"Stay, stay thee, Scarmiglione!" Then to us +He added: "Further footing to your step +This rock affords not, shiver'd to the base +Of the sixth arch. But would you still proceed, +Up by this cavern go: not distant far, +Another rock will yield you passage safe. +Yesterday, later by five hours than now, +Twelve hundred threescore years and six had fill'd +The circuit of their course, since here the way +Was broken. Thitherward I straight dispatch +Certain of these my scouts, who shall espy +If any on the surface bask. With them +Go ye: for ye shall find them nothing fell. +Come Alichino forth," with that he cried, +"And Calcabrina, and Cagnazzo thou! +The troop of ten let Barbariccia lead. +With Libicocco Draghinazzo haste, +Fang'd Ciriatto, Grafflacane fierce, +And Farfarello, and mad Rubicant. +Search ye around the bubbling tar. For these, +In safety lead them, where the other crag +Uninterrupted traverses the dens." + +I then: "O master! what a sight is there! +Ah! without escort, journey we alone, +Which, if thou know the way, I covet not. +Unless thy prudence fail thee, dost not mark +How they do gnarl upon us, and their scowl +Threatens us present tortures?" He replied: +"I charge thee fear not: let them, as they will, +Gnarl on: 't is but in token of their spite +Against the souls, who mourn in torment steep'd." + +To leftward o'er the pier they turn'd; but each +Had first between his teeth prest close the tongue, +Toward their leader for a signal looking, +Which he with sound obscene triumphant gave. + + + + +CANTO XXII + +IT hath been heretofore my chance to see +Horsemen with martial order shifting camp, +To onset sallying, or in muster rang'd, +Or in retreat sometimes outstretch'd for flight; +Light-armed squadrons and fleet foragers +Scouring thy plains, Arezzo! have I seen, +And clashing tournaments, and tilting jousts, +Now with the sound of trumpets, now of bells, +Tabors, or signals made from castled heights, +And with inventions multiform, our own, +Or introduc'd from foreign land; but ne'er +To such a strange recorder I beheld, +In evolution moving, horse nor foot, +Nor ship, that tack'd by sign from land or star. + +With the ten demons on our way we went; +Ah fearful company! but in the church +With saints, with gluttons at the tavern's mess. + +Still earnest on the pitch I gaz'd, to mark +All things whate'er the chasm contain'd, and those +Who burn'd within. As dolphins, that, in sign +To mariners, heave high their arched backs, +That thence forewarn'd they may advise to save +Their threaten'd vessels; so, at intervals, +To ease the pain his back some sinner show'd, +Then hid more nimbly than the lightning glance. + +E'en as the frogs, that of a wat'ry moat +Stand at the brink, with the jaws only out, +Their feet and of the trunk all else concealed, +Thus on each part the sinners stood, but soon +As Barbariccia was at hand, so they +Drew back under the wave. I saw, and yet +My heart doth stagger, one, that waited thus, +As it befalls that oft one frog remains, +While the next springs away: and Graffiacan, +Who of the fiends was nearest, grappling seiz'd +His clotted locks, and dragg'd him sprawling up, +That he appear'd to me an otter. Each +Already by their names I knew, so well +When they were chosen, I observ'd, and mark'd +How one the other call'd. "O Rubicant! +See that his hide thou with thy talons flay," +Shouted together all the cursed crew. + +Then I: "Inform thee, master! if thou may, +What wretched soul is this, on whom their hand +His foes have laid." My leader to his side +Approach'd, and whence he came inquir'd, to whom +Was answer'd thus: "Born in Navarre's domain +My mother plac'd me in a lord's retinue, +For she had borne me to a losel vile, +A spendthrift of his substance and himself. +The good king Thibault after that I serv'd, +To peculating here my thoughts were turn'd, +Whereof I give account in this dire heat." + +Straight Ciriatto, from whose mouth a tusk +Issued on either side, as from a boar, +Ript him with one of these. 'Twixt evil claws +The mouse had fall'n: but Barbariccia cried, +Seizing him with both arms: "Stand thou apart, +While I do fix him on my prong transpierc'd." +Then added, turning to my guide his face, +"Inquire of him, if more thou wish to learn, +Ere he again be rent." My leader thus: +"Then tell us of the partners in thy guilt; +Knowest thou any sprung of Latian land +Under the tar?"--"I parted," he replied, +"But now from one, who sojourn'd not far thence; +So were I under shelter now with him! +Nor hook nor talon then should scare me more."--. + +"Too long we suffer," Libicocco cried, +Then, darting forth a prong, seiz'd on his arm, +And mangled bore away the sinewy part. +Him Draghinazzo by his thighs beneath +Would next have caught, whence angrily their chief, +Turning on all sides round, with threat'ning brow +Restrain'd them. When their strife a little ceas'd, +Of him, who yet was gazing on his wound, +My teacher thus without delay inquir'd: +"Who was the spirit, from whom by evil hap +Parting, as thou has told, thou cam'st to shore?"-- + +"It was the friar Gomita," he rejoin'd, +"He of Gallura, vessel of all guile, +Who had his master's enemies in hand, +And us'd them so that they commend him well. +Money he took, and them at large dismiss'd. +So he reports: and in each other charge +Committed to his keeping, play'd the part +Of barterer to the height: with him doth herd +The chief of Logodoro, Michel Zanche. +Sardinia is a theme, whereof their tongue +Is never weary. Out! alas! behold +That other, how he grins! More would I say, +But tremble lest he mean to maul me sore." + +Their captain then to Farfarello turning, +Who roll'd his moony eyes in act to strike, +Rebuk'd him thus: "Off! cursed bird! Avaunt!"-- + +"If ye desire to see or hear," he thus +Quaking with dread resum'd, "or Tuscan spirits +Or Lombard, I will cause them to appear. +Meantime let these ill talons bate their fury, +So that no vengeance they may fear from them, +And I, remaining in this self-same place, +Will for myself but one, make sev'n appear, +When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for so +Our custom is to call each other up." + +Cagnazzo at that word deriding grinn'd, +Then wagg'd the head and spake: "Hear his device, +Mischievous as he is, to plunge him down." + +Whereto he thus, who fail'd not in rich store +Of nice-wove toils; "Mischief forsooth extreme, +Meant only to procure myself more woe!" + +No longer Alichino then refrain'd, +But thus, the rest gainsaying, him bespake: +"If thou do cast thee down, I not on foot +Will chase thee, but above the pitch will beat +My plumes. Quit we the vantage ground, and let +The bank be as a shield, that we may see +If singly thou prevail against us all." + +Now, reader, of new sport expect to hear! + +They each one turn'd his eyes to the' other shore, +He first, who was the hardest to persuade. +The spirit of Navarre chose well his time, +Planted his feet on land, and at one leap +Escaping disappointed their resolve. + +Them quick resentment stung, but him the most, +Who was the cause of failure; in pursuit +He therefore sped, exclaiming; "Thou art caught." + +But little it avail'd: terror outstripp'd +His following flight: the other plung'd beneath, +And he with upward pinion rais'd his breast: +E'en thus the water-fowl, when she perceives +The falcon near, dives instant down, while he +Enrag'd and spent retires. That mockery +In Calcabrina fury stirr'd, who flew +After him, with desire of strife inflam'd; +And, for the barterer had 'scap'd, so turn'd +His talons on his comrade. O'er the dyke +In grapple close they join'd; but the' other prov'd +A goshawk able to rend well his foe; + +And in the boiling lake both fell. The heat +Was umpire soon between them, but in vain +To lift themselves they strove, so fast were glued +Their pennons. Barbariccia, as the rest, +That chance lamenting, four in flight dispatch'd +From the' other coast, with all their weapons arm'd. +They, to their post on each side speedily +Descending, stretch'd their hooks toward the fiends, +Who flounder'd, inly burning from their scars: +And we departing left them to that broil. + + + + +CANTO XXIII + +IN silence and in solitude we went, +One first, the other following his steps, +As minor friars journeying on their road. + +The present fray had turn'd my thoughts to muse +Upon old Aesop's fable, where he told +What fate unto the mouse and frog befell. +For language hath not sounds more like in sense, +Than are these chances, if the origin +And end of each be heedfully compar'd. +And as one thought bursts from another forth, +So afterward from that another sprang, +Which added doubly to my former fear. +For thus I reason'd: "These through us have been +So foil'd, with loss and mock'ry so complete, +As needs must sting them sore. If anger then +Be to their evil will conjoin'd, more fell +They shall pursue us, than the savage hound +Snatches the leveret, panting 'twixt his jaws." + +Already I perceiv'd my hair stand all +On end with terror, and look'd eager back. + +"Teacher," I thus began, "if speedily +Thyself and me thou hide not, much I dread +Those evil talons. Even now behind +They urge us: quick imagination works +So forcibly, that I already feel them." + +He answer'd: "Were I form'd of leaded glass, +I should not sooner draw unto myself +Thy outward image, than I now imprint +That from within. This moment came thy thoughts +Presented before mine, with similar act +And count'nance similar, so that from both +I one design have fram'd. If the right coast +Incline so much, that we may thence descend +Into the other chasm, we shall escape +Secure from this imagined pursuit." + +He had not spoke his purpose to the end, +When I from far beheld them with spread wings +Approach to take us. Suddenly my guide +Caught me, ev'n as a mother that from sleep +Is by the noise arous'd, and near her sees +The climbing fires, who snatches up her babe +And flies ne'er pausing, careful more of him +Than of herself, that but a single vest +Clings round her limbs. Down from the jutting beach +Supine he cast him, to that pendent rock, +Which closes on one part the other chasm. + +Never ran water with such hurrying pace +Adown the tube to turn a landmill's wheel, +When nearest it approaches to the spokes, +As then along that edge my master ran, +Carrying me in his bosom, as a child, +Not a companion. Scarcely had his feet +Reach'd to the lowest of the bed beneath, + +When over us the steep they reach'd; but fear +In him was none; for that high Providence, +Which plac'd them ministers of the fifth foss, +Power of departing thence took from them all. + +There in the depth we saw a painted tribe, +Who pac'd with tardy steps around, and wept, +Faint in appearance and o'ercome with toil. +Caps had they on, with hoods, that fell low down +Before their eyes, in fashion like to those +Worn by the monks in Cologne. Their outside +Was overlaid with gold, dazzling to view, +But leaden all within, and of such weight, +That Frederick's compar'd to these were straw. +Oh, everlasting wearisome attire! + +We yet once more with them together turn'd +To leftward, on their dismal moan intent. +But by the weight oppress'd, so slowly came +The fainting people, that our company +Was chang'd at every movement of the step. + +Whence I my guide address'd: "See that thou find +Some spirit, whose name may by his deeds be known, +And to that end look round thee as thou go'st." + +Then one, who understood the Tuscan voice, +Cried after us aloud: "Hold in your feet, +Ye who so swiftly speed through the dusk air. +Perchance from me thou shalt obtain thy wish." + +Whereat my leader, turning, me bespake: +"Pause, and then onward at their pace proceed." + +I staid, and saw two Spirits in whose look +Impatient eagerness of mind was mark'd +To overtake me; but the load they bare +And narrow path retarded their approach. + +Soon as arriv'd, they with an eye askance +Perus'd me, but spake not: then turning each +To other thus conferring said: "This one +Seems, by the action of his throat, alive. +And, be they dead, what privilege allows +They walk unmantled by the cumbrous stole?" + +Then thus to me: "Tuscan, who visitest +The college of the mourning hypocrites, +Disdain not to instruct us who thou art." + +"By Arno's pleasant stream," I thus replied, +"In the great city I was bred and grew, +And wear the body I have ever worn. +but who are ye, from whom such mighty grief, +As now I witness, courseth down your cheeks? +What torment breaks forth in this bitter woe?" +"Our bonnets gleaming bright with orange hue," +One of them answer'd, "are so leaden gross, +That with their weight they make the balances +To crack beneath them. Joyous friars we were, +Bologna's natives, Catalano I, +He Loderingo nam'd, and by thy land +Together taken, as men used to take +A single and indifferent arbiter, +To reconcile their strifes. How there we sped, +Gardingo's vicinage can best declare." + +"O friars!" I began, "your miseries--" +But there brake off, for one had caught my eye, +Fix'd to a cross with three stakes on the ground: +He, when he saw me, writh'd himself, throughout +Distorted, ruffling with deep sighs his beard. +And Catalano, who thereof was 'ware, + +Thus spake: "That pierced spirit, whom intent +Thou view'st, was he who gave the Pharisees +Counsel, that it were fitting for one man +To suffer for the people. He doth lie +Transverse; nor any passes, but him first +Behoves make feeling trial how each weighs. +In straits like this along the foss are plac'd +The father of his consort, and the rest +Partakers in that council, seed of ill +And sorrow to the Jews." I noted then, +How Virgil gaz'd with wonder upon him, +Thus abjectly extended on the cross +In banishment eternal. To the friar +He next his words address'd: "We pray ye tell, +If so be lawful, whether on our right +Lies any opening in the rock, whereby +We both may issue hence, without constraint +On the dark angels, that compell'd they come +To lead us from this depth." He thus replied: +"Nearer than thou dost hope, there is a rock +From the next circle moving, which o'ersteps +Each vale of horror, save that here his cope +Is shatter'd. By the ruin ye may mount: +For on the side it slants, and most the height +Rises below." With head bent down awhile +My leader stood, then spake: "He warn'd us ill, +Who yonder hangs the sinners on his hook." + +To whom the friar: At Bologna erst +"I many vices of the devil heard, +Among the rest was said, 'He is a liar, +And the father of lies!'" When he had spoke, +My leader with large strides proceeded on, +Somewhat disturb'd with anger in his look. + +I therefore left the spirits heavy laden, +And following, his beloved footsteps mark'd. + + + + +CANTO XXIV + +IN the year's early nonage, when the sun +Tempers his tresses in Aquarius' urn, +And now towards equal day the nights recede, +When as 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 chang'd its count'nance, 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 cur'd; for at the fallen bridge +Arriving, towards 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 open'd wide his arm +And took me up. As one, who, while he works, +Computes his labour'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 capp'd with lead +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 of our descent we reach'd +From the last flag: soon as to that arriv'd, +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'er consumes his days +Leaveth such vestige of himself on earth, +As smoke in air or foam upon the wave. +Thou therefore rise: vanish 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 escap'd sufficeth not. +If well thou note me, profit by my words." + +I straightway rose, and show'd myself less spent +Than 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 ceas'd not, as we journey'd, so to seem +Least faint; whereat a voice from the other foss +Did issue forth, for utt'rance suited ill. +Though on the arch that crosses there I stood, +What were the words I knew not, but who spake +Seem'd mov'd 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 Lybia vaunt no more: if Jaculus, +Pareas and Chelyder be her brood, +Cenchris and Amphisboena, plagues so dire +Or in such numbers swarming ne'er she shew'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, +Transpierc'd him. Far more quickly than e'er pen +Wrote O or I, he kindled, burn'd, and chang'd +To ashes, all pour'd out upon the earth. +When there dissolv'd 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 endur'd, 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 inquir'd, and thus in few +He answer'd: "Vanni Fucci am I call'd, +Not long since rained down from Tuscany +To this dire gullet. Me the beastial life +And not the human pleas'd, mule that I was, +Who in Pistoia found my worthy den." + +I then to Virgil: "Bid him stir not hence, +And ask what crime did thrust him hither: once +A man I knew him choleric and bloody." + +The sinner heard and feign'd not, but towards me +His mind directing and his face, wherein +Was dismal shame depictur'd, 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 pines, +Then Florence changeth citizens and laws. +From Valdimagra, drawn by wrathful Mars, +A vapour 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." + + + + +CANTO XXV + +WHEN he had spoke, the sinner rais'd his hands +Pointed in mockery, and cried: "Take them, God! +I level them at thee!" From that day forth +The serpents were my friends; for round his neck +One of then rolling twisted, as it said, +"Be silent, tongue!" Another to his arms +Upgliding, tied them, riveting itself +So close, it took from them the power to move. + +Pistoia! Ah Pistoia! why dost doubt +To turn thee into ashes, cumb'ring earth +No longer, since in evil act so far +Thou hast outdone thy seed? I did not mark, +Through all the gloomy circles of the' abyss, +Spirit, that swell'd so proudly 'gainst his God, +Not him, who headlong fell from Thebes. He fled, +Nor utter'd more; and after him there came +A centaur full of fury, shouting, "Where +Where is the caitiff?" On Maremma's marsh +Swarm not the serpent tribe, as on his haunch +They swarm'd, to where the human face begins. +Behind his head upon the shoulders lay, +With open wings, a dragon breathing fire +On whomsoe'er he met. To me my guide: +"Cacus is this, who underneath the rock +Of Aventine spread oft a lake of blood. +He, from his brethren parted, here must tread +A different journey, for his fraudful theft +Of the great herd, that near him stall'd; whence found +His felon deeds their end, beneath the mace +Of stout Alcides, that perchance laid on +A hundred blows, and not the tenth was felt." + +While yet he spake, the centaur sped away: +And under us three spirits came, of whom +Nor I nor he was ware, till they exclaim'd; +"Say who are ye?" We then brake off discourse, +Intent on these alone. I knew them not; +But, as it chanceth oft, befell, that one +Had need to name another. "Where," said he, +"Doth Cianfa lurk?" I, for a sign my guide +Should stand attentive, plac'd against my lips +The finger lifted. If, O reader! now +Thou be not apt to credit what I tell, +No marvel; for myself do scarce allow +The witness of mine eyes. But as I looked +Toward them, lo! a serpent with six feet +Springs forth on one, and fastens full upon him: +His midmost grasp'd the belly, a forefoot +Seiz'd on each arm (while deep in either cheek +He flesh'd his fangs); the hinder on the thighs +Were spread, 'twixt which the tail inserted curl'd +Upon the reins behind. Ivy ne'er clasp'd +A dodder'd oak, as round the other's limbs +The hideous monster intertwin'd his own. +Then, as they both had been of burning wax, +Each melted into other, mingling hues, +That which was either now was seen no more. +Thus up the shrinking paper, ere it burns, +A brown tint glides, not turning yet to black, +And the clean white expires. The other two +Look'd on exclaiming: "Ah, how dost thou change, +Agnello! See! Thou art nor double now, + +"Nor only one." The two heads now became +One, and two figures blended in one form +Appear'd, where both were lost. Of the four lengths +Two arms were made: the belly and the chest +The thighs and legs into such members chang'd, +As never eye hath seen. Of former shape +All trace was vanish'd. Two yet neither seem'd +That image miscreate, and so pass'd on +With tardy steps. As underneath the scourge +Of the fierce dog-star, that lays bare the fields, +Shifting from brake to brake, the lizard seems +A flash of lightning, if he thwart the road, +So toward th' entrails of the other two +Approaching seem'd, an adder all on fire, +As the dark pepper-grain, livid and swart. +In that part, whence our life is nourish'd first, +One he transpierc'd; then down before him fell +Stretch'd out. The pierced spirit look'd on him +But spake not; yea stood motionless and yawn'd, +As if by sleep or fev'rous fit assail'd. +He ey'd the serpent, and the serpent him. +One from the wound, the other from the mouth +Breath'd a thick smoke, whose vap'ry columns join'd. + +Lucan in mute attention now may hear, +Nor thy disastrous fate, Sabellus! tell, +Nor shine, Nasidius! Ovid now be mute. +What if in warbling fiction he record +Cadmus and Arethusa, to a snake +Him chang'd, and her into a fountain clear, +I envy not; for never face to face +Two natures thus transmuted did he sing, +Wherein both shapes were ready to assume +The other's substance. They in mutual guise +So answer'd, that the serpent split his train +Divided to a fork, and the pierc'd spirit +Drew close his steps together, legs and thighs +Compacted, that no sign of juncture soon +Was visible: the tail disparted took +The figure which the spirit lost, its skin +Soft'ning, his indurated to a rind. +The shoulders next I mark'd, that ent'ring join'd +The monster's arm-pits, whose two shorter feet +So lengthen'd, as the other's dwindling shrunk. +The feet behind then twisting up became +That part that man conceals, which in the wretch +Was cleft in twain. While both the shadowy smoke +With a new colour veils, and generates +Th' excrescent pile on one, peeling it off +From th' other body, lo! upon his feet +One upright rose, and prone the other fell. +Not yet their glaring and malignant lamps +Were shifted, though each feature chang'd beneath. +Of him who stood erect, the mounting face +Retreated towards the temples, and what there +Superfluous matter came, shot out in ears +From the smooth cheeks, the rest, not backward dragg'd, +Of its excess did shape the nose; and swell'd +Into due size protuberant the lips. +He, on the earth who lay, meanwhile extends +His sharpen'd visage, and draws down the ears +Into the head, as doth the slug his horns. +His tongue continuous before and apt +For utt'rance, severs; and the other's fork +Closing unites. That done the smoke was laid. +The soul, transform'd into the brute, glides off, +Hissing along the vale, and after him +The other talking sputters; but soon turn'd +His new-grown shoulders on him, and in few +Thus to another spake: "Along this path +Crawling, as I have done, speed Buoso now!" + +So saw I fluctuate in successive change +Th' unsteady ballast of the seventh hold: +And here if aught my tongue have swerv'd, events +So strange may be its warrant. O'er mine eyes +Confusion hung, and on my thoughts amaze. + +Yet 'scap'd they not so covertly, but well +I mark'd Sciancato: he alone it was +Of the three first that came, who chang'd not: thou, +The other's fate, Gaville, still dost rue. + + + + +CANTO XXVI + +FLORENCE exult! for thou so mightily +Hast thriven, that o'er land and sea thy wings +Thou beatest, and thy name spreads over hell! +Among the plund'rers such the three I found +Thy citizens, whence shame to me thy son, +And no proud honour to thyself redounds. + +But if our minds, when dreaming near the dawn, +Are of the truth presageful, thou ere long +Shalt feel what Prato, (not to say the rest) +Would fain might come upon thee; and that chance +Were in good time, if it befell thee now. +Would so it were, since it must needs befall! +For as time wears me, I shall grieve the more. + +We from the depth departed; and my guide +Remounting scal'd the flinty steps, which late +We downward trac'd, and drew me up the steep. +Pursuing thus our solitary way +Among the crags and splinters of the rock, +Sped not our feet without the help of hands. + +Then sorrow seiz'd me, which e'en now revives, +As my thought turns again to what I saw, +And, more than I am wont, I rein and curb +The powers of nature in me, lest they run +Where Virtue guides not; that if aught of good +My gentle star, or something better gave me, +I envy not myself the precious boon. + +As in that season, when the sun least veils +His face that lightens all, what time the fly +Gives way to the shrill gnat, the peasant then +Upon some cliff reclin'd, beneath him sees +Fire-flies innumerous spangling o'er the vale, +Vineyard or tilth, where his day-labour lies: +With flames so numberless throughout its space +Shone the eighth chasm, apparent, when the depth +Was to my view expos'd. As he, whose wrongs +The bears aveng'd, at its departure saw +Elijah's chariot, when the steeds erect +Rais'd their steep flight for heav'n; his eyes meanwhile, +Straining pursu'd them, till the flame alone +Upsoaring like a misty speck he kenn'd; +E'en thus along the gulf moves every flame, +A sinner so enfolded close in each, +That none exhibits token of the theft. + +Upon the bridge I forward bent to look, +And grasp'd a flinty mass, or else had fall'n, +Though push'd not from the height. The guide, who mark'd +How I did gaze attentive, thus began: + +"Within these ardours are the spirits, each +Swath'd in confining fire."--"Master, thy word," +I answer'd, "hath assur'd me; yet I deem'd +Already of the truth, already wish'd +To ask thee, who is in yon fire, that comes +So parted at the summit, as it seem'd +Ascending from that funeral pile, where lay +The Theban brothers?" He replied: "Within +Ulysses there and Diomede endure +Their penal tortures, thus to vengeance now +Together hasting, as erewhile to wrath. +These in the flame with ceaseless groans deplore +The ambush of the horse, that open'd wide +A portal for that goodly seed to pass, +Which sow'd imperial Rome; nor less the guile +Lament they, whence of her Achilles 'reft +Deidamia yet in death complains. +And there is rued the stratagem, that Troy +Of her Palladium spoil'd."--"If they have power +Of utt'rance from within these sparks," said I, +"O master! think my prayer a thousand fold +In repetition urg'd, that thou vouchsafe +To pause, till here the horned flame arrive. +See, how toward it with desire I bend." + +He thus: "Thy prayer is worthy of much praise, +And I accept it therefore: but do thou +Thy tongue refrain: to question them be mine, +For I divine thy wish: and they perchance, +For they were Greeks, might shun discourse with thee." + +When there the flame had come, where time and place +Seem'd fitting to my guide, he thus began: +"O ye, who dwell two spirits in one fire! +If living I of you did merit aught, +Whate'er the measure were of that desert, +When in the world my lofty strain I pour'd, +Move ye not on, till one of you unfold +In what clime death o'ertook him self-destroy'd." + +Of the old flame forthwith the greater horn +Began to roll, murmuring, as a fire +That labours with the wind, then to and fro +Wagging the top, as a tongue uttering sounds, +Threw out its voice, and spake: "When I escap'd +From Circe, who beyond a circling year +Had held me near Caieta, by her charms, +Ere thus Aeneas yet had nam'd the shore, +Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence +Of my old father, nor return of love, +That should have crown'd Penelope with joy, +Could overcome in me the zeal I had +T' explore the world, and search the ways of life, +Man's evil and his virtue. Forth I sail'd +Into the deep illimitable main, +With but one bark, and the small faithful band +That yet cleav'd to me. As Iberia far, +Far as Morocco either shore I saw, +And the Sardinian and each isle beside +Which round that ocean bathes. Tardy with age +Were I and my companions, when we came +To the strait pass, where Hercules ordain'd +The bound'ries not to be o'erstepp'd by man. +The walls of Seville to my right I left, +On the' other hand already Ceuta past. + +"O brothers!" I began, "who to the west +Through perils without number now have reach'd, +To this the short remaining watch, that yet +Our senses have to wake, refuse not proof +Of the unpeopled world, following the track +Of Phoebus. Call to mind from whence we sprang: +Ye were not form'd to live the life of brutes +But virtue to pursue and knowledge high. +With these few words I sharpen'd for the voyage +The mind of my associates, that I then +Could scarcely have withheld them. To the dawn +Our poop we turn'd, and for the witless flight +Made our oars wings, still gaining on the left. +Each star of the' other pole night now beheld, +And ours so low, that from the ocean-floor +It rose not. Five times re-illum'd, as oft +Vanish'd the light from underneath the moon +Since the deep way we enter'd, when from far +Appear'd a mountain dim, loftiest methought +Of all I e'er beheld. Joy seiz'd us straight, +But soon to mourning changed. From the new land +A whirlwind sprung, and at her foremost side +Did strike the vessel. Thrice it whirl'd her round +With all the waves, the fourth time lifted up +The poop, and sank the prow: so fate decreed: +And over us the booming billow clos'd." + + + + +CANTO XVII + +NOW upward rose the flame, and still'd its light +To speak no more, and now pass'd on with leave +From the mild poet gain'd, when following came +Another, from whose top a sound confus'd, +Forth issuing, drew our eyes that way to look. + +As the Sicilian bull, that rightfully +His cries first echoed, who had shap'd its mould, +Did so rebellow, with the voice of him +Tormented, that the brazen monster seem'd +Pierc'd through with pain; thus while no way they found +Nor avenue immediate through the flame, +Into its language turn'd the dismal words: +But soon as they had won their passage forth, +Up from the point, which vibrating obey'd +Their motion at the tongue, these sounds we heard: +"O thou! to whom I now direct my voice! +That lately didst exclaim in Lombard phrase, + +"Depart thou, I solicit thee no more, +Though somewhat tardy I perchance arrive +Let it not irk thee here to pause awhile, +And with me parley: lo! it irks not me +And yet I burn. If but e'en now thou fall +into this blind world, from that pleasant land +Of Latium, whence I draw my sum of guilt, +Tell me if those, who in Romagna dwell, +Have peace or war. For of the mountains there +Was I, betwixt Urbino and the height, +Whence Tyber first unlocks his mighty flood." + +Leaning I listen'd yet with heedful ear, +When, as he touch'd my side, the leader thus: +"Speak thou: he is a Latian." My reply +Was ready, and I spake without delay: + +"O spirit! who art hidden here below! +Never was thy Romagna without war +In her proud tyrants' bosoms, nor is now: +But open war there left I none. The state, +Ravenna hath maintain'd this many a year, +Is steadfast. There Polenta's eagle broods, +And in his broad circumference of plume +O'ershadows Cervia. The green talons grasp +The land, that stood erewhile the proof so long, +And pil'd in bloody heap the host of France. + +"The' old mastiff of Verruchio and the young, +That tore Montagna in their wrath, still make, +Where they are wont, an augre of their fangs. + +"Lamone's city and Santerno's range +Under the lion of the snowy lair. +Inconstant partisan! that changeth sides, +Or ever summer yields to winter's frost. +And she, whose flank is wash'd of Savio's wave, +As 'twixt the level and the steep she lies, +Lives so 'twixt tyrant power and liberty. + +"Now tell us, I entreat thee, who art thou? +Be not more hard than others. In the world, +So may thy name still rear its forehead high." + +Then roar'd awhile the fire, its sharpen'd point +On either side wav'd, and thus breath'd at last: +"If I did think, my answer were to one, +Who ever could return unto the world, +This flame should rest unshaken. But since ne'er, +If true be told me, any from this depth +Has found his upward way, I answer thee, +Nor fear lest infamy record the words. + +"A man of arms at first, I cloth'd me then +In good Saint Francis' girdle, hoping so +T' have made amends. And certainly my hope +Had fail'd not, but that he, whom curses light on, +The' high priest again seduc'd me into sin. +And how and wherefore listen while I tell. +Long as this spirit mov'd the bones and pulp +My mother gave me, less my deeds bespake +The nature of the lion than the fox. +All ways of winding subtlety I knew, +And with such art conducted, that the sound +Reach'd the world's limit. Soon as to that part +Of life I found me come, when each behoves +To lower sails and gather in the lines; +That which before had pleased me then I rued, +And to repentance and confession turn'd; +Wretch that I was! and well it had bested me! +The chief of the new Pharisees meantime, +Waging his warfare near the Lateran, +Not with the Saracens or Jews (his foes +All Christians were, nor against Acre one +Had fought, nor traffic'd in the Soldan's land), +He his great charge nor sacred ministry +In himself, rev'renc'd, nor in me that cord, +Which us'd to mark with leanness whom it girded. +As in Socrate, Constantine besought +To cure his leprosy Sylvester's aid, +So me to cure the fever of his pride +This man besought: my counsel to that end +He ask'd: and I was silent: for his words +Seem'd drunken: but forthwith he thus resum'd: +'From thy heart banish fear: of all offence +I hitherto absolve thee. In return, +Teach me my purpose so to execute, +That Penestrino cumber earth no more. +Heav'n, as thou knowest, I have power to shut +And open: and the keys are therefore twain, +The which my predecessor meanly priz'd.'" + +Then, yielding to the forceful arguments, +Of silence as more perilous I deem'd, +And answer'd: "Father! since thou washest me +Clear of that guilt wherein I now must fall, +Large promise with performance scant, be sure, +Shall make thee triumph in thy lofty seat." + +"When I was number'd with the dead, then came +Saint Francis for me; but a cherub dark +He met, who cried: 'Wrong me not; he is mine, +And must below to join the wretched crew, +For the deceitful counsel which he gave. +E'er since I watch'd him, hov'ring at his hair, +No power can the impenitent absolve; +Nor to repent and will at once consist, +By contradiction absolute forbid.'" +Oh mis'ry! how I shook myself, when he +Seiz'd me, and cried, "Thou haply thought'st me not +A disputant in logic so exact." +To Minos down he bore me, and the judge +Twin'd eight times round his callous back the tail, +Which biting with excess of rage, he spake: +"This is a guilty soul, that in the fire +Must vanish. Hence perdition-doom'd I rove +A prey to rankling sorrow in this garb." + +When he had thus fulfill'd his words, the flame +In dolour parted, beating to and fro, +And writhing its sharp horn. We onward went, +I and my leader, up along the rock, +Far as another arch, that overhangs +The foss, wherein the penalty is paid +Of those, who load them with committed sin. + + + + +CANTO XXVIII + +WHO, e'en in words unfetter'd, might at full +Tell of the wounds and blood that now I saw, +Though he repeated oft the tale? No tongue +So vast a theme could equal, speech and thought +Both impotent alike. If in one band +Collected, stood the people all, who e'er +Pour'd on Apulia's happy soil their blood, +Slain by the Trojans, and in that long war +When of the rings the measur'd booty made +A pile so high, as Rome's historian writes +Who errs not, with the multitude, that felt +The grinding force of Guiscard's Norman steel, +And those the rest, whose bones are gather'd yet +At Ceperano, there where treachery +Branded th' Apulian name, or where beyond +Thy walls, O Tagliacozzo, without arms +The old Alardo conquer'd; and his limbs +One were to show transpierc'd, another his +Clean lopt away; a spectacle like this +Were but a thing of nought, to the' hideous sight +Of the ninth chasm. A rundlet, that hath lost +Its middle or side stave, gapes not so wide, +As one I mark'd, torn from the chin throughout +Down to the hinder passage: 'twixt the legs +Dangling his entrails hung, the midriff lay +Open to view, and wretched ventricle, +That turns th' englutted aliment to dross. + +Whilst eagerly I fix on him my gaze, +He ey'd me, with his hands laid his breast bare, +And cried; "Now mark how I do rip me! lo! + +"How is Mohammed mangled! before me +Walks Ali weeping, from the chin his face +Cleft to the forelock; and the others all +Whom here thou seest, while they liv'd, did sow +Scandal and schism, and therefore thus are rent. +A fiend is here behind, who with his sword +Hacks us thus cruelly, slivering again +Each of this ream, when we have compast round +The dismal way, for first our gashes close +Ere we repass before him. But say who +Art thou, that standest musing on the rock, +Haply so lingering to delay the pain +Sentenc'd upon thy crimes?"--"Him death not yet," +My guide rejoin'd, "hath overta'en, nor sin +Conducts to torment; but, that he may make +Full trial of your state, I who am dead +Must through the depths of hell, from orb to orb, +Conduct him. Trust my words, for they are true." + +More than a hundred spirits, when that they heard, +Stood in the foss to mark me, through amazed, +Forgetful of their pangs. "Thou, who perchance +Shalt shortly view the sun, this warning thou +Bear to Dolcino: bid him, if he wish not +Here soon to follow me, that with good store +Of food he arm him, lest impris'ning snows +Yield him a victim to Novara's power, +No easy conquest else." With foot uprais'd +For stepping, spake Mohammed, on the ground +Then fix'd it to depart. Another shade, +Pierc'd in the throat, his nostrils mutilate +E'en from beneath the eyebrows, and one ear +Lopt off, who with the rest through wonder stood +Gazing, before the rest advanc'd, and bar'd +His wind-pipe, that without was all o'ersmear'd +With crimson stain. "O thou!" said he, "whom sin +Condemns not, and whom erst (unless too near +Resemblance do deceive me) I aloft +Have seen on Latian ground, call thou to mind +Piero of Medicina, if again +Returning, thou behold'st the pleasant land +That from Vercelli slopes to Mercabo; + +"And there instruct the twain, whom Fano boasts +Her worthiest sons, Guido and Angelo, +That if 't is giv'n us here to scan aright +The future, they out of life's tenement +Shall be cast forth, and whelm'd under the waves +Near to Cattolica, through perfidy +Of a fell tyrant. 'Twixt the Cyprian isle +And Balearic, ne'er hath Neptune seen +An injury so foul, by pirates done +Or Argive crew of old. That one-ey'd traitor +(Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain +His eye had still lack'd sight of) them shall bring +To conf'rence with him, then so shape his end, +That they shall need not 'gainst Focara's wind +Offer up vow nor pray'r." I answering thus: + +"Declare, as thou dost wish that I above +May carry tidings of thee, who is he, +In whom that sight doth wake such sad remembrance?" + +Forthwith he laid his hand on the cheek-bone +Of one, his fellow-spirit, and his jaws +Expanding, cried: "Lo! this is he I wot of; +He speaks not for himself: the outcast this +Who overwhelm'd the doubt in Caesar's mind, +Affirming that delay to men prepar'd +Was ever harmful." Oh how terrified +Methought was Curio, from whose throat was cut +The tongue, which spake that hardy word. Then one +Maim'd of each hand, uplifted in the gloom +The bleeding stumps, that they with gory spots +Sullied his face, and cried: "'Remember thee +Of Mosca, too, I who, alas! exclaim'd, +'The deed once done there is an end,' that prov'd +A seed of sorrow to the Tuscan race." + +I added: "Ay, and death to thine own tribe." + +Whence heaping woe on woe he hurried off, +As one grief stung to madness. But I there +Still linger'd to behold the troop, and saw +Things, such as I may fear without more proof +To tell of, but that conscience makes me firm, +The boon companion, who her strong breast-plate +Buckles on him, that feels no guilt within +And bids him on and fear not. Without doubt +I saw, and yet it seems to pass before me, +A headless trunk, that even as the rest +Of the sad flock pac'd onward. By the hair +It bore the sever'd member, lantern-wise +Pendent in hand, which look'd at us and said, + +"Woe's me!" The spirit lighted thus himself, +And two there were in one, and one in two. +How that may be he knows who ordereth so. + +When at the bridge's foot direct he stood, +His arm aloft he rear'd, thrusting the head +Full in our view, that nearer we might hear +The words, which thus it utter'd: "Now behold +This grievous torment, thou, who breathing go'st +To spy the dead; behold if any else +Be terrible as this. And that on earth +Thou mayst bear tidings of me, know that I +Am Bertrand, he of Born, who gave King John +The counsel mischievous. Father and son +I set at mutual war. For Absalom +And David more did not Ahitophel, +Spurring them on maliciously to strife. +For parting those so closely knit, my brain +Parted, alas! I carry from its source, +That in this trunk inhabits. Thus the law +Of retribution fiercely works in me." + + + + +CANTO XXIX + +SO were mine eyes inebriate with view +Of the vast multitude, whom various wounds +Disfigur'd, that they long'd to stay and weep. + +But Virgil rous'd me: "What yet gazest on? +Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight below +Among the maim'd and miserable shades? +Thou hast not shewn in any chasm beside +This weakness. Know, if thou wouldst number them +That two and twenty miles the valley winds +Its circuit, and already is the moon +Beneath our feet: the time permitted now +Is short, and more not seen remains to see." + +"If thou," I straight replied, "hadst weigh'd the cause +For which I look'd, thou hadst perchance excus'd +The tarrying still." My leader part pursu'd +His way, the while I follow'd, answering him, +And adding thus: "Within that cave I deem, +Whereon so fixedly I held my ken, +There is a spirit dwells, one of my blood, +Wailing the crime that costs him now so dear." + +Then spake my master: "Let thy soul no more +Afflict itself for him. Direct elsewhere +Its thought, and leave him. At the bridge's foot +I mark'd how he did point with menacing look +At thee, and heard him by the others nam'd +Geri of Bello. Thou so wholly then +Wert busied with his spirit, who once rul'd +The towers of Hautefort, that thou lookedst not +That way, ere he was gone."--"O guide belov'd! +His violent death yet unaveng'd," said I, +"By any, who are partners in his shame, +Made him contemptuous: therefore, as I think, +He pass'd me speechless by; and doing so +Hath made me more compassionate his fate." + +So we discours'd to where the rock first show'd +The other valley, had more light been there, +E'en to the lowest depth. Soon as we came +O'er the last cloister in the dismal rounds +Of Malebolge, and the brotherhood +Were to our view expos'd, then many a dart +Of sore lament assail'd me, headed all +With points of thrilling pity, that I clos'd +Both ears against the volley with mine hands. + +As were the torment, if each lazar-house +Of Valdichiana, in the sultry time +'Twixt July and September, with the isle +Sardinia and Maremma's pestilent fen, +Had heap'd their maladies all in one foss +Together; such was here the torment: dire +The stench, as issuing steams from fester'd limbs. + +We on the utmost shore of the long rock +Descended still to leftward. Then my sight +Was livelier to explore the depth, wherein +The minister of the most mighty Lord, +All-searching Justice, dooms to punishment +The forgers noted on her dread record. + +More rueful was it not methinks to see +The nation in Aegina droop, what time +Each living thing, e'en to the little worm, +All fell, so full of malice was the air +(And afterward, as bards of yore have told, +The ancient people were restor'd anew +From seed of emmets) than was here to see +The spirits, that languish'd through the murky vale +Up-pil'd on many a stack. Confus'd they lay, +One o'er the belly, o'er the shoulders one +Roll'd of another; sideling crawl'd a third +Along the dismal pathway. Step by step +We journey'd on, in silence looking round +And list'ning those diseas'd, who strove in vain +To lift their forms. Then two I mark'd, that sat +Propp'd 'gainst each other, as two brazen pans +Set to retain the heat. From head to foot, +A tetter bark'd them round. Nor saw I e'er +Groom currying so fast, for whom his lord +Impatient waited, or himself perchance +Tir'd with long watching, as of these each one +Plied quickly his keen nails, through furiousness +Of ne'er abated pruriency. The crust +Came drawn from underneath in flakes, like scales +Scrap'd from the bream or fish of broader mail. + +"O thou, who with thy fingers rendest off +Thy coat of proof," thus spake my guide to one, +"And sometimes makest tearing pincers of them, +Tell me if any born of Latian land +Be among these within: so may thy nails +Serve thee for everlasting to this toil." + +"Both are of Latium," weeping he replied, +"Whom tortur'd thus thou seest: but who art thou +That hast inquir'd of us?" To whom my guide: +"One that descend with this man, who yet lives, +From rock to rock, and show him hell's abyss." + +Then started they asunder, and each turn'd +Trembling toward us, with the rest, whose ear +Those words redounding struck. To me my liege +Address'd him: "Speak to them whate'er thou list." + +And I therewith began: "So may no time +Filch your remembrance from the thoughts of men +In th' upper world, but after many suns +Survive it, as ye tell me, who ye are, +And of what race ye come. Your punishment, +Unseemly and disgustful in its kind, +Deter you not from opening thus much to me." + +"Arezzo was my dwelling," answer'd one, +"And me Albero of Sienna brought +To die by fire; but that, for which I died, +Leads me not here. True is in sport I told him, +That I had learn'd to wing my flight in air. +And he admiring much, as he was void +Of wisdom, will'd me to declare to him +The secret of mine art: and only hence, +Because I made him not a Daedalus, +Prevail'd on one suppos'd his sire to burn me. +But Minos to this chasm last of the ten, +For that I practis'd alchemy on earth, +Has doom'd me. Him no subterfuge eludes." + +Then to the bard I spake: "Was ever race +Light as Sienna's? Sure not France herself +Can show a tribe so frivolous and vain." + +The other leprous spirit heard my words, +And thus return'd: "Be Stricca from this charge +Exempted, he who knew so temp'rately +To lay out fortune's gifts; and Niccolo +Who first the spice's costly luxury +Discover'd in that garden, where such seed +Roots deepest in the soil: and be that troop +Exempted, with whom Caccia of Asciano +Lavish'd his vineyards and wide-spreading woods, +And his rare wisdom Abbagliato show'd +A spectacle for all. That thou mayst know +Who seconds thee against the Siennese +Thus gladly, bend this way thy sharpen'd sight, +That well my face may answer to thy ken; +So shalt thou see I am Capocchio's ghost, +Who forg'd transmuted metals by the power +Of alchemy; and if I scan thee right, +Thus needs must well remember how I aped +Creative nature by my subtle art." + + + + +CANTO XXX + +WHAT time resentment burn'd in Juno's breast +For Semele against the Theban blood, +As more than once in dire mischance was rued, +Such fatal frenzy seiz'd on Athamas, +That he his spouse beholding with a babe +Laden on either arm, "Spread out," he cried, +"The meshes, that I take the lioness +And the young lions at the pass:" then forth +Stretch'd he his merciless talons, grasping one, +One helpless innocent, Learchus nam'd, +Whom swinging down he dash'd upon a rock, +And with her other burden self-destroy'd +The hapless mother plung'd: and when the pride +Of all-presuming Troy fell from its height, +By fortune overwhelm'd, and the old king +With his realm perish'd, then did Hecuba, +A wretch forlorn and captive, when she saw +Polyxena first slaughter'd, and her son, +Her Polydorus, on the wild sea-beach +Next met the mourner's view, then reft of sense +Did she run barking even as a dog; +Such mighty power had grief to wrench her soul. +Bet ne'er the Furies or of Thebes or Troy +With such fell cruelty were seen, their goads +Infixing in the limbs of man or beast, +As now two pale and naked ghost I saw +That gnarling wildly scamper'd, like the swine +Excluded from his stye. One reach'd Capocchio, +And in the neck-joint sticking deep his fangs, +Dragg'd him, that o'er the solid pavement rubb'd +His belly stretch'd out prone. The other shape, +He of Arezzo, there left trembling, spake; +"That sprite of air is Schicchi; in like mood +Of random mischief vent he still his spite." + +To whom I answ'ring: "Oh! as thou dost hope, +The other may not flesh its jaws on thee, +Be patient to inform us, who it is, +Ere it speed hence."--"That is the ancient soul +Of wretched Myrrha," he replied, "who burn'd +With most unholy flame for her own sire, + +"And a false shape assuming, so perform'd +The deed of sin; e'en as the other there, +That onward passes, dar'd to counterfeit +Donati's features, to feign'd testament +The seal affixing, that himself might gain, +For his own share, the lady of the herd." + +When vanish'd the two furious shades, on whom +Mine eye was held, I turn'd it back to view +The other cursed spirits. One I saw +In fashion like a lute, had but the groin +Been sever'd, where it meets the forked part. +Swoln dropsy, disproportioning the limbs +With ill-converted moisture, that the paunch +Suits not the visage, open'd wide his lips +Gasping as in the hectic man for drought, +One towards the chin, the other upward curl'd. + +"O ye, who in this world of misery, +Wherefore I know not, are exempt from pain," +Thus he began, "attentively regard +Adamo's woe. When living, full supply +Ne'er lack'd me of what most I coveted; +One drop of water now, alas! I crave. +The rills, that glitter down the grassy slopes +Of Casentino, making fresh and soft +The banks whereby they glide to Arno's stream, +Stand ever in my view; and not in vain; +For more the pictur'd semblance dries me up, +Much more than the disease, which makes the flesh +Desert these shrivel'd cheeks. So from the place, +Where I transgress'd, stern justice urging me, +Takes means to quicken more my lab'ring sighs. +There is Romena, where I falsified +The metal with the Baptist's form imprest, +For which on earth I left my body burnt. +But if I here might see the sorrowing soul +Of Guido, Alessandro, or their brother, +For Branda's limpid spring I would not change +The welcome sight. One is e'en now within, +If truly the mad spirits tell, that round +Are wand'ring. But wherein besteads me that? +My limbs are fetter'd. Were I but so light, +That I each hundred years might move one inch, +I had set forth already on this path, +Seeking him out amidst the shapeless crew, +Although eleven miles it wind, not more +Than half of one across. They brought me down +Among this tribe; induc'd by them I stamp'd +The florens with three carats of alloy." + +"Who are that abject pair," I next inquir'd, +"That closely bounding thee upon thy right +Lie smoking, like a band in winter steep'd +In the chill stream?"--"When to this gulf I dropt," +He answer'd, "here I found them; since that hour +They have not turn'd, nor ever shall, I ween, +Till time hath run his course. One is that dame +The false accuser of the Hebrew youth; +Sinon the other, that false Greek from Troy. +Sharp fever drains the reeky moistness out, +In such a cloud upsteam'd." When that he heard, +One, gall'd perchance to be so darkly nam'd, +With clench'd hand smote him on the braced paunch, +That like a drum resounded: but forthwith +Adamo smote him on the face, the blow +Returning with his arm, that seem'd as hard. + +"Though my o'erweighty limbs have ta'en from me +The power to move," said he, "I have an arm +At liberty for such employ." To whom +Was answer'd: "When thou wentest to the fire, +Thou hadst it not so ready at command, +Then readier when it coin'd th' impostor gold." + +And thus the dropsied: "Ay, now speak'st thou true. +But there thou gav'st not such true testimony, +When thou wast question'd of the truth, at Troy." + +"If I spake false, thou falsely stamp'dst the coin," +Said Sinon; "I am here but for one fault, +And thou for more than any imp beside." + +"Remember," he replied, "O perjur'd one, +The horse remember, that did teem with death, +And all the world be witness to thy guilt." + +"To thine," return'd the Greek, "witness the thirst +Whence thy tongue cracks, witness the fluid mound, +Rear'd by thy belly up before thine eyes, +A mass corrupt." To whom the coiner thus: +"Thy mouth gapes wide as ever to let pass +Its evil saying. Me if thirst assails, +Yet I am stuff'd with moisture. Thou art parch'd, +Pains rack thy head, no urging would'st thou need +To make thee lap Narcissus' mirror up." + +I was all fix'd to listen, when my guide +Admonish'd: "Now beware: a little more. +And I do quarrel with thee." I perceiv'd +How angrily he spake, and towards him turn'd +With shame so poignant, as remember'd yet +Confounds me. As a man that dreams of harm +Befall'n him, dreaming wishes it a dream, +And that which is, desires as if it were not, +Such then was I, who wanting power to speak +Wish'd to excuse myself, and all the while +Excus'd me, though unweeting that I did. + +"More grievous fault than thine has been, less shame," +My master cried, "might expiate. Therefore cast +All sorrow from thy soul; and if again +Chance bring thee, where like conference is held, +Think I am ever at thy side. To hear +Such wrangling is a joy for vulgar minds." + + + + +CANTO XXXI + +THE very tongue, whose keen reproof before +Had wounded me, that either cheek was stain'd, +Now minister'd my cure. So have I heard, +Achilles and his father's javelin caus'd +Pain first, and then the boon of health restor'd. + +Turning our back upon the vale of woe, +W cross'd th' encircled mound in silence. There +Was twilight dim, that far long the gloom +Mine eye advanc'd not: but I heard a horn +Sounded aloud. The peal it blew had made +The thunder feeble. Following its course +The adverse way, my strained eyes were bent +On that one spot. So terrible a blast +Orlando blew not, when that dismal rout +O'erthrew the host of Charlemagne, and quench'd +His saintly warfare. Thitherward not long +My head was rais'd, when many lofty towers +Methought I spied. "Master," said I, "what land +Is this?" He answer'd straight: "Too long a space +Of intervening darkness has thine eye +To traverse: thou hast therefore widely err'd +In thy imagining. Thither arriv'd +Thou well shalt see, how distance can delude +The sense. A little therefore urge thee on." + +Then tenderly he caught me by the hand; +"Yet know," said he, "ere farther we advance, +That it less strange may seem, these are not towers, +But giants. In the pit they stand immers'd, +Each from his navel downward, round the bank." + +As when a fog disperseth gradually, +Our vision traces what the mist involves +Condens'd in air; so piercing through the gross +And gloomy atmosphere, as more and more +We near'd toward the brink, mine error fled, +And fear came o'er me. As with circling round +Of turrets, Montereggion crowns his walls, +E'en thus the shore, encompassing th' abyss, +Was turreted with giants, half their length +Uprearing, horrible, whom Jove from heav'n +Yet threatens, when his mutt'ring thunder rolls. + +Of one already I descried the face, +Shoulders, and breast, and of the belly huge +Great part, and both arms down along his ribs. + +All-teeming nature, when her plastic hand +Left framing of these monsters, did display +Past doubt her wisdom, taking from mad War +Such slaves to do his bidding; and if she +Repent her not of th' elephant and whale, +Who ponders well confesses her therein +Wiser and more discreet; for when brute force +And evil will are back'd with subtlety, +Resistance none avails. His visage seem'd +In length and bulk, as doth the pine, that tops +Saint Peter's Roman fane; and th' other bones +Of like proportion, so that from above +The bank, which girdled him below, such height +Arose his stature, that three Friezelanders +Had striv'n in vain to reach but to his hair. +Full thirty ample palms was he expos'd +Downward from whence a man his garments loops. +"Raphel bai ameth sabi almi," +So shouted his fierce lips, which sweeter hymns +Became not; and my guide address'd him thus: + +"O senseless spirit! let thy horn for thee +Interpret: therewith vent thy rage, if rage +Or other passion wring thee. Search thy neck, +There shalt thou find the belt that binds it on. +Wild spirit! lo, upon thy mighty breast +Where hangs the baldrick!" Then to me he spake: +"He doth accuse himself. Nimrod is this, +Through whose ill counsel in the world no more +One tongue prevails. But pass we on, nor waste +Our words; for so each language is to him, +As his to others, understood by none." + +Then to the leftward turning sped we forth, +And at a sling's throw found another shade +Far fiercer and more huge. I cannot say +What master hand had girt him; but he held +Behind the right arm fetter'd, and before +The other with a chain, that fasten'd him +From the neck down, and five times round his form +Apparent met the wreathed links. "This proud one +Would of his strength against almighty Jove +Make trial," said my guide; "whence he is thus +Requited: Ephialtes him they call. + +"Great was his prowess, when the giants brought +Fear on the gods: those arms, which then he piled, +Now moves he never." Forthwith I return'd: +"Fain would I, if 't were possible, mine eyes +Of Briareus immeasurable gain'd +Experience next." He answer'd: "Thou shalt see +Not far from hence Antaeus, who both speaks +And is unfetter'd, who shall place us there +Where guilt is at its depth. Far onward stands +Whom thou wouldst fain behold, in chains, and made +Like to this spirit, save that in his looks +More fell he seems." By violent earthquake rock'd +Ne'er shook a tow'r, so reeling to its base, +As Ephialtes. More than ever then +I dreaded death, nor than the terror more +Had needed, if I had not seen the cords +That held him fast. We, straightway journeying on, +Came to Antaeus, who five ells complete +Without the head, forth issued from the cave. + +"O thou, who in the fortunate vale, that made +Great Scipio heir of glory, when his sword +Drove back the troop of Hannibal in flight, +Who thence of old didst carry for thy spoil +An hundred lions; and if thou hadst fought +In the high conflict on thy brethren's side, +Seems as men yet believ'd, that through thine arm +The sons of earth had conquer'd, now vouchsafe +To place us down beneath, where numbing cold +Locks up Cocytus. Force not that we crave +Or Tityus' help or Typhon's. Here is one +Can give what in this realm ye covet. Stoop +Therefore, nor scornfully distort thy lip. +He in the upper world can yet bestow +Renown on thee, for he doth live, and looks +For life yet longer, if before the time +Grace call him not unto herself." Thus spake +The teacher. He in haste forth stretch'd his hands, +And caught my guide. Alcides whilom felt +That grapple straighten'd score. Soon as my guide +Had felt it, he bespake me thus: "This way +That I may clasp thee;" then so caught me up, +That we were both one burden. As appears +The tower of Carisenda, from beneath +Where it doth lean, if chance a passing cloud +So sail across, that opposite it hangs, +Such then Antaeus seem'd, as at mine ease +I mark'd him stooping. I were fain at times +T' have pass'd another way. Yet in th' abyss, +That Lucifer with Judas low ingulfs, +Lightly he plac'd us; nor there leaning stay'd, +But rose as in a bark the stately mast. + + + + +CANTO XXXII + +COULD I command rough rhimes and hoarse, to suit +That hole of sorrow, o'er which ev'ry rock +His firm abutment rears, then might the vein +Of fancy rise full springing: but not mine +Such measures, and with falt'ring awe I touch +The mighty theme; for to describe the depth +Of all the universe, is no emprize +To jest with, and demands a tongue not us'd +To infant babbling. But let them assist +My song, the tuneful maidens, by whose aid +Amphion wall'd in Thebes, so with the truth +My speech shall best accord. Oh ill-starr'd folk, +Beyond all others wretched! who abide +In such a mansion, as scarce thought finds words +To speak of, better had ye here on earth +Been flocks or mountain goats. As down we stood +In the dark pit beneath the giants' feet, +But lower far than they, and I did gaze +Still on the lofty battlement, a voice +Bespoke me thus: "Look how thou walkest. Take +Good heed, thy soles do tread not on the heads +Of thy poor brethren." Thereupon I turn'd, +And saw before and underneath my feet +A lake, whose frozen surface liker seem'd +To glass than water. Not so thick a veil +In winter e'er hath Austrian Danube spread +O'er his still course, nor Tanais far remote +Under the chilling sky. Roll'd o'er that mass +Had Tabernich or Pietrapana fall'n, + +Not e'en its rim had creak'd. As peeps the frog +Croaking above the wave, what time in dreams +The village gleaner oft pursues her toil, +So, to where modest shame appears, thus low +Blue pinch'd and shrin'd in ice the spirits stood, +Moving their teeth in shrill note like the stork. +His face each downward held; their mouth the cold, +Their eyes express'd the dolour of their heart. + +A space I look'd around, then at my feet +Saw two so strictly join'd, that of their head +The very hairs were mingled. "Tell me ye, +Whose bosoms thus together press," said I, +"Who are ye?" At that sound their necks they bent, +And when their looks were lifted up to me, +Straightway their eyes, before all moist within, +Distill'd upon their lips, and the frost bound +The tears betwixt those orbs and held them there. +Plank unto plank hath never cramp clos'd up +So stoutly. Whence like two enraged goats +They clash'd together; them such fury seiz'd. + +And one, from whom the cold both ears had reft, +Exclaim'd, still looking downward: "Why on us +Dost speculate so long? If thou wouldst know +Who are these two, the valley, whence his wave +Bisenzio slopes, did for its master own +Their sire Alberto, and next him themselves. +They from one body issued; and throughout +Caina thou mayst search, nor find a shade +More worthy in congealment to be fix'd, +Not him, whose breast and shadow Arthur's land +At that one blow dissever'd, not Focaccia, +No not this spirit, whose o'erjutting head +Obstructs my onward view: he bore the name +Of Mascheroni: Tuscan if thou be, +Well knowest who he was: and to cut short +All further question, in my form behold +What once was Camiccione. I await +Carlino here my kinsman, whose deep guilt +Shall wash out mine." A thousand visages +Then mark'd I, which the keen and eager cold +Had shap'd into a doggish grin; whence creeps +A shiv'ring horror o'er me, at the thought +Of those frore shallows. While we journey'd on +Toward the middle, at whose point unites +All heavy substance, and I trembling went +Through that eternal chillness, I know not +If will it were or destiny, or chance, +But, passing 'midst the heads, my foot did strike +With violent blow against the face of one. + +"Wherefore dost bruise me?" weeping, he exclaim'd, +"Unless thy errand be some fresh revenge +For Montaperto, wherefore troublest me?" + +I thus: "Instructor, now await me here, +That I through him may rid me of my doubt. +Thenceforth what haste thou wilt." The teacher paus'd, +And to that shade I spake, who bitterly +Still curs'd me in his wrath. "What art thou, speak, +That railest thus on others?" He replied: +"Now who art thou, that smiting others' cheeks +Through Antenora roamest, with such force +As were past suff'rance, wert thou living still?" + +"And I am living, to thy joy perchance," +Was my reply, "if fame be dear to thee, +That with the rest I may thy name enrol." + +"The contrary of what I covet most," +Said he, "thou tender'st: hence; nor vex me more. +Ill knowest thou to flatter in this vale." + +Then seizing on his hinder scalp, I cried: +"Name thee, or not a hair shall tarry here." + +"Rend all away," he answer'd, "yet for that +I will not tell nor show thee who I am, +Though at my head thou pluck a thousand times." + +Now I had grasp'd his tresses, and stript off +More than one tuft, he barking, with his eyes +Drawn in and downward, when another cried, +"What ails thee, Bocca? Sound not loud enough +Thy chatt'ring teeth, but thou must bark outright? +What devil wrings thee?"--"Now," said I, "be dumb, +Accursed traitor! to thy shame of thee +True tidings will I bear."--"Off," he replied, +"Tell what thou list; but as thou escape from hence +To speak of him whose tongue hath been so glib, +Forget not: here he wails the Frenchman's gold. +'Him of Duera,' thou canst say, 'I mark'd, +Where the starv'd sinners pine.' If thou be ask'd +What other shade was with them, at thy side +Is Beccaria, whose red gorge distain'd +The biting axe of Florence. Farther on, +If I misdeem not, Soldanieri bides, +With Ganellon, and Tribaldello, him +Who op'd Faenza when the people slept." + +We now had left him, passing on our way, +When I beheld two spirits by the ice +Pent in one hollow, that the head of one +Was cowl unto the other; and as bread +Is raven'd up through hunger, th' uppermost +Did so apply his fangs to th' other's brain, +Where the spine joins it. Not more furiously +On Menalippus' temples Tydeus gnaw'd, +Than on that skull and on its garbage he. + +"O thou who show'st so beastly sign of hate +'Gainst him thou prey'st on, let me hear," said I +"The cause, on such condition, that if right +Warrant thy grievance, knowing who ye are, +And what the colour of his sinning was, +I may repay thee in the world above, +If that, wherewith I speak be moist so long." + + + + +CANTO XXXIII + +HIS jaws uplifting from their fell repast, +That sinner wip'd them on the hairs o' th' head, +Which he behind had mangled, then began: +"Thy will obeying, I call up afresh +Sorrow past cure, which but to think of wrings +My heart, or ere I tell on't. But if words, +That I may utter, shall prove seed to bear +Fruit of eternal infamy to him, +The traitor whom I gnaw at, thou at once +Shalt see me speak and weep. Who thou mayst be +I know not, nor how here below art come: +But Florentine thou seemest of a truth, +When I do hear thee. Know I was on earth +Count Ugolino, and th' Archbishop he +Ruggieri. Why I neighbour him so close, +Now list. That through effect of his ill thoughts +In him my trust reposing, I was ta'en +And after murder'd, need is not I tell. +What therefore thou canst not have heard, that is, +How cruel was the murder, shalt thou hear, +And know if he have wrong'd me. A small grate +Within that mew, which for my sake the name +Of famine bears, where others yet must pine, +Already through its opening sev'ral moons +Had shown me, when I slept the evil sleep, +That from the future tore the curtain off. +This one, methought, as master of the sport, +Rode forth to chase the gaunt wolf and his whelps +Unto the mountain, which forbids the sight +Of Lucca to the Pisan. With lean brachs +Inquisitive and keen, before him rang'd +Lanfranchi with Sismondi and Gualandi. +After short course the father and the sons +Seem'd tir'd and lagging, and methought I saw +The sharp tusks gore their sides. When I awoke +Before the dawn, amid their sleep I heard +My sons (for they were with me) weep and ask +For bread. Right cruel art thou, if no pang +Thou feel at thinking what my heart foretold; +And if not now, why use thy tears to flow? +Now had they waken'd; and the hour drew near +When they were wont to bring us food; the mind +Of each misgave him through his dream, and I +Heard, at its outlet underneath lock'd up +The' horrible tower: whence uttering not a word +I look'd upon the visage of my sons. +I wept not: so all stone I felt within. +They wept: and one, my little Anslem, cried: +"Thou lookest so! Father what ails thee?" Yet +I shed no tear, nor answer'd all that day +Nor the next night, until another sun +Came out upon the world. When a faint beam +Had to our doleful prison made its way, +And in four countenances I descry'd +The image of my own, on either hand +Through agony I bit, and they who thought +I did it through desire of feeding, rose +O' th' sudden, and cried, 'Father, we should grieve +Far less, if thou wouldst eat of us: thou gav'st +These weeds of miserable flesh we wear, + +'And do thou strip them off from us again.' +Then, not to make them sadder, I kept down +My spirit in stillness. That day and the next +We all were silent. Ah, obdurate earth! +Why open'dst not upon us? When we came +To the fourth day, then Geddo at my feet +Outstretch'd did fling him, crying, 'Hast no help +For me, my father!' There he died, and e'en +Plainly as thou seest me, saw I the three +Fall one by one 'twixt the fifth day and sixth: + +"Whence I betook me now grown blind to grope +Over them all, and for three days aloud +Call'd on them who were dead. Then fasting got +The mastery of grief." Thus having spoke, + +Once more upon the wretched skull his teeth +He fasten'd, like a mastiff's 'gainst the bone +Firm and unyielding. Oh thou Pisa! shame +Of all the people, who their dwelling make +In that fair region, where th' Italian voice +Is heard, since that thy neighbours are so slack +To punish, from their deep foundations rise +Capraia and Gorgona, and dam up +The mouth of Arno, that each soul in thee +May perish in the waters! What if fame +Reported that thy castles were betray'd +By Ugolino, yet no right hadst thou +To stretch his children on the rack. For them, +Brigata, Ugaccione, and the pair +Of gentle ones, of whom my song hath told, +Their tender years, thou modern Thebes! did make +Uncapable of guilt. Onward we pass'd, +Where others skarf'd in rugged folds of ice +Not on their feet were turn'd, but each revers'd. + +There very weeping suffers not to weep; +For at their eyes grief seeking passage finds +Impediment, and rolling inward turns +For increase of sharp anguish: the first tears +Hang cluster'd, and like crystal vizors show, +Under the socket brimming all the cup. + +Now though the cold had from my face dislodg'd +Each feeling, as 't were callous, yet me seem'd +Some breath of wind I felt. "Whence cometh this," +Said I, "my master? Is not here below +All vapour quench'd?"--"'Thou shalt be speedily," +He answer'd, "where thine eye shall tell thee whence +The cause descrying of this airy shower." + +Then cried out one in the chill crust who mourn'd: +"O souls so cruel! that the farthest post +Hath been assign'd you, from this face remove +The harden'd veil, that I may vent the grief +Impregnate at my heart, some little space +Ere it congeal again!" I thus replied: +"Say who thou wast, if thou wouldst have mine aid; +And if I extricate thee not, far down +As to the lowest ice may I descend!" + +"The friar Alberigo," answered he, +"Am I, who from the evil garden pluck'd +Its fruitage, and am here repaid, the date +More luscious for my fig."--"Hah!" I exclaim'd, +"Art thou too dead!"--"How in the world aloft +It fareth with my body," answer'd he, +"I am right ignorant. Such privilege +Hath Ptolomea, that ofttimes the soul +Drops hither, ere by Atropos divorc'd. +And that thou mayst wipe out more willingly +The glazed tear-drops that o'erlay mine eyes, +Know that the soul, that moment she betrays, +As I did, yields her body to a fiend +Who after moves and governs it at will, +Till all its time be rounded; headlong she +Falls to this cistern. And perchance above +Doth yet appear the body of a ghost, +Who here behind me winters. Him thou know'st, +If thou but newly art arriv'd below. +The years are many that have pass'd away, +Since to this fastness Branca Doria came." + +"Now," answer'd I, "methinks thou mockest me, +For Branca Doria never yet hath died, +But doth all natural functions of a man, +Eats, drinks, and sleeps, and putteth raiment on." + +He thus: "Not yet unto that upper foss +By th' evil talons guarded, where the pitch +Tenacious boils, had Michael Zanche reach'd, +When this one left a demon in his stead +In his own body, and of one his kin, +Who with him treachery wrought. But now put forth +Thy hand, and ope mine eyes." I op'd them not. +Ill manners were best courtesy to him. + +Ah Genoese! men perverse in every way, +With every foulness stain'd, why from the earth +Are ye not cancel'd? Such an one of yours +I with Romagna's darkest spirit found, +As for his doings even now in soul +Is in Cocytus plung'd, and yet doth seem +In body still alive upon the earth. + + + + +CANTO XXXIV + +"THE banners of Hell's Monarch do come forth +Towards us; therefore look," so spake my guide, +"If thou discern him." As, when breathes a cloud +Heavy and dense, or when the shades of night +Fall on our hemisphere, seems view'd from far +A windmill, which the blast stirs briskly round, +Such was the fabric then methought I saw, + +To shield me from the wind, forthwith I drew +Behind my guide: no covert else was there. + +Now came I (and with fear I bid my strain +Record the marvel) where the souls were all +Whelm'd underneath, transparent, as through glass +Pellucid the frail stem. Some prone were laid, +Others stood upright, this upon the soles, +That on his head, a third with face to feet +Arch'd like a bow. When to the point we came, +Whereat my guide was pleas'd that I should see +The creature eminent in beauty once, +He from before me stepp'd and made me pause. + +"Lo!" he exclaim'd, "lo Dis! and lo the place, +Where thou hast need to arm thy heart with strength." + +How frozen and how faint I then became, +Ask me not, reader! for I write it not, +Since words would fail to tell thee of my state. +I was not dead nor living. Think thyself +If quick conception work in thee at all, +How I did feel. That emperor, who sways +The realm of sorrow, at mid breast from th' ice +Stood forth; and I in stature am more like +A giant, than the giants are in his arms. +Mark now how great that whole must be, which suits +With such a part. If he were beautiful +As he is hideous now, and yet did dare +To scowl upon his Maker, well from him +May all our mis'ry flow. Oh what a sight! +How passing strange it seem'd, when I did spy +Upon his head three faces: one in front +Of hue vermilion, th' other two with this +Midway each shoulder join'd and at the crest; +The right 'twixt wan and yellow seem'd: the left +To look on, such as come from whence old Nile +Stoops to the lowlands. Under each shot forth +Two mighty wings, enormous as became +A bird so vast. Sails never such I saw +Outstretch'd on the wide sea. No plumes had they, +But were in texture like a bat, and these +He flapp'd i' th' air, that from him issued still +Three winds, wherewith Cocytus to its depth +Was frozen. At six eyes he wept: the tears +Adown three chins distill'd with bloody foam. +At every mouth his teeth a sinner champ'd +Bruis'd as with pond'rous engine, so that three +Were in this guise tormented. But far more +Than from that gnawing, was the foremost pang'd +By the fierce rending, whence ofttimes the back +Was stript of all its skin. "That upper spirit, +Who hath worse punishment," so spake my guide, +"Is Judas, he that hath his head within +And plies the feet without. Of th' other two, +Whose heads are under, from the murky jaw +Who hangs, is Brutus: lo! how he doth writhe +And speaks not! Th' other Cassius, that appears +So large of limb. But night now re-ascends, +And it is time for parting. All is seen." + +I clipp'd him round the neck, for so he bade; +And noting time and place, he, when the wings +Enough were op'd, caught fast the shaggy sides, +And down from pile to pile descending stepp'd +Between the thick fell and the jagged ice. + +Soon as he reach'd the point, whereat the thigh +Upon the swelling of the haunches turns, +My leader there with pain and struggling hard +Turn'd round his head, where his feet stood before, +And grappled at the fell, as one who mounts, +That into hell methought we turn'd again. + +"Expect that by such stairs as these," thus spake +The teacher, panting like a man forespent, +"We must depart from evil so extreme." +Then at a rocky opening issued forth, +And plac'd me on a brink to sit, next join'd +With wary step my side. I rais'd mine eyes, +Believing that I Lucifer should see +Where he was lately left, but saw him now +With legs held upward. Let the grosser sort, +Who see not what the point was I had pass'd, +Bethink them if sore toil oppress'd me then. + +"Arise," my master cried, "upon thy feet. +The way is long, and much uncouth the road; +And now within one hour and half of noon +The sun returns." It was no palace-hall +Lofty and luminous wherein we stood, +But natural dungeon where ill footing was +And scant supply of light. "Ere from th' abyss +I sep'rate," thus when risen I began, +"My guide! vouchsafe few words to set me free +From error's thralldom. Where is now the ice? +How standeth he in posture thus revers'd? +And how from eve to morn in space so brief +Hath the sun made his transit?" He in few +Thus answering spake: "Thou deemest thou art still +On th' other side the centre, where I grasp'd +Th' abhorred worm, that boreth through the world. +Thou wast on th' other side, so long as I +Descended; when I turn'd, thou didst o'erpass +That point, to which from ev'ry part is dragg'd +All heavy substance. Thou art now arriv'd +Under the hemisphere opposed to that, +Which the great continent doth overspread, +And underneath whose canopy expir'd +The Man, that was born sinless, and so liv'd. +Thy feet are planted on the smallest sphere, +Whose other aspect is Judecca. Morn +Here rises, when there evening sets: and he, +Whose shaggy pile was scal'd, yet standeth fix'd, +As at the first. On this part he fell down +From heav'n; and th' earth, here prominent before, +Through fear of him did veil her with the sea, +And to our hemisphere retir'd. Perchance +To shun him was the vacant space left here +By what of firm land on this side appears, +That sprang aloof." There is a place beneath, +From Belzebub as distant, as extends +The vaulted tomb, discover'd not by sight, +But by the sound of brooklet, that descends +This way along the hollow of a rock, +Which, as it winds with no precipitous course, +The wave hath eaten. By that hidden way +My guide and I did enter, to return +To the fair world: and heedless of repose +We climbed, he first, I following his steps, +Till on our view the beautiful lights of heav'n +Dawn'd through a circular opening in the cave: +Thus issuing we again beheld the stars. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hell, by Dante Alighieri + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HELL *** + +***** This file should be named 1005.txt or 1005.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/0/1005/ + +Produced by Judith Smith and Natalie Salter + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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We would also like to thank Montell Corporation +Inc., Sarnia plant, for the use of scanning equipment to +facilitate the preparation of this electronic text. + +Judith Smith +heyjude@ebtech.net + + + + + +THE VISION +OR, +HELL, PURGATORY, AND PARADISE +OF +DANTE ALIGHIERI + +TRANSLATED BY +THE REV. H. F. CARY, A.M. + + + + + +HELL + +CANTO I + +IN the midway of this our mortal life, +I found me in a gloomy wood, astray +Gone from the path direct: and e'en to tell +It were no easy task, how savage wild +That forest, how robust and rough its growth, +Which to remember only, my dismay +Renews, in bitterness not far from death. +Yet to discourse of what there good befell, +All else will I relate discover'd there. +How first I enter'd it I scarce can say, +Such sleepy dullness in that instant weigh'd +My senses down, when the true path I left, +But when a mountain's foot I reach'd, where clos'd +The valley, that had pierc'd my heart with dread, +I look'd aloft, and saw his shoulders broad +Already vested with that planet's beam, +Who leads all wanderers safe through every way. + Then was a little respite to the fear, +That in my heart's recesses deep had lain, +All of that night, so pitifully pass'd: +And as a man, with difficult short breath, +Forespent with toiling, 'scap'd from sea to shore, +Turns to the perilous wide waste, and stands +At gaze; e'en so my spirit, that yet fail'd +Struggling with terror, turn'd to view the straits, +That none hath pass'd and liv'd. My weary frame +After short pause recomforted, again +I journey'd on over that lonely steep, +The hinder foot still firmer. Scarce the ascent +Began, when, lo! a panther, nimble, light, +And cover'd with a speckled skin, appear'd, +Nor, when it saw me, vanish'd, rather strove +To check my onward going; that ofttimes +With purpose to retrace my steps I turn'd. + The hour was morning's prime, and on his way +Aloft the sun ascended with those stars, +That with him rose, when Love divine first mov'd +Those its fair works: so that with joyous hope +All things conspir'd to fill me, the gay skin +Of that swift animal, the matin dawn +And the sweet season. Soon that joy was chas'd, +And by new dread succeeded, when in view +A lion came, 'gainst me, as it appear'd, +With his head held aloft and hunger-mad, +That e'en the air was fear-struck. A she-wolf +Was at his heels, who in her leanness seem'd +Full of all wants, and many a land hath made +Disconsolate ere now. She with such fear +O'erwhelmed me, at the sight of her appall'd, +That of the height all hope I lost. As one, +Who with his gain elated, sees the time +When all unwares is gone, he inwardly +Mourns with heart-griping anguish; such was I, +Haunted by that fell beast, never at peace, +Who coming o'er against me, by degrees +Impell'd me where the sun in silence rests. + While to the lower space with backward step +I fell, my ken discern'd the form one of one, +Whose voice seem'd faint through long disuse of speech. +When him in that great desert I espied, +"Have mercy on me!" cried I out aloud, +"Spirit! or living man! what e'er thou be!" + He answer'd: "Now not man, man once I was, +And born of Lombard parents, Mantuana both +By country, when the power of Julius yet +Was scarcely firm. At Rome my life was past +Beneath the mild Augustus, in the time +Of fabled deities and false. A bard +Was I, and made Anchises' upright son +The subject of my song, who came from Troy, +When the flames prey'd on Ilium's haughty towers. +But thou, say wherefore to such perils past +Return'st thou? wherefore not this pleasant mount +Ascendest, cause and source of all delight?" +"And art thou then that Virgil, that well-spring, +From which such copious floods of eloquence +Have issued?" I with front abash'd replied. +"Glory and light of all the tuneful train! +May it avail me that I long with zeal +Have sought thy volume, and with love immense +Have conn'd it o'er. My master thou and guide! +Thou he from whom alone I have deriv'd +That style, which for its beauty into fame +Exalts me. See the beast, from whom I fled. +O save me from her, thou illustrious sage! +For every vein and pulse throughout my frame +She hath made tremble." He, soon as he saw +That I was weeping, answer'd, "Thou must needs +Another way pursue, if thou wouldst 'scape +From out that savage wilderness. This beast, +At whom thou criest, her way will suffer none +To pass, and no less hindrance makes than death: +So bad and so accursed in her kind, +That never sated is her ravenous will, +Still after food more craving than before. +To many an animal in wedlock vile +She fastens, and shall yet to many more, +Until that greyhound come, who shall destroy +Her with sharp pain. He will not life support +By earth nor its base metals, but by love, +Wisdom, and virtue, and his land shall be +The land 'twixt either Feltro. In his might +Shall safety to Italia's plains arise, +For whose fair realm, Camilla, virgin pure, +Nisus, Euryalus, and Turnus fell. +He with incessant chase through every town +Shall worry, until he to hell at length +Restore her, thence by envy first let loose. +I for thy profit pond'ring now devise, +That thou mayst follow me, and I thy guide +Will lead thee hence through an eternal space, +Where thou shalt hear despairing shrieks, and see +Spirits of old tormented, who invoke +A second death; and those next view, who dwell +Content in fire, for that they hope to come, +Whene'er the time may be, among the blest, +Into whose regions if thou then desire +T' ascend, a spirit worthier then I +Must lead thee, in whose charge, when I depart, +Thou shalt be left: for that Almighty King, +Who reigns above, a rebel to his law, +Adjudges me, and therefore hath decreed, +That to his city none through me should come. +He in all parts hath sway; there rules, there holds +His citadel and throne. O happy those, +Whom there he chooses!" I to him in few: +"Bard! by that God, whom thou didst not adore, +I do beseech thee (that this ill and worse +I may escape) to lead me, where thou saidst, +That I Saint Peter's gate may view, and those +Who as thou tell'st, are in such dismal plight." + Onward he mov'd, I close his steps pursu'd. + + + +CANTO II + +NOW was the day departing, and the air, +Imbrown'd with shadows, from their toils releas'd +All animals on earth; and I alone +Prepar'd myself the conflict to sustain, +Both of sad pity, and that perilous road, +Which my unerring memory shall retrace. + O Muses! O high genius! now vouchsafe +Your aid! O mind! that all I saw hast kept +Safe in a written record, here thy worth +And eminent endowments come to proof. + I thus began: "Bard! thou who art my guide, +Consider well, if virtue be in me +Sufficient, ere to this high enterprise +Thou trust me. Thou hast told that Silvius' sire, +Yet cloth'd in corruptible flesh, among +Th' immortal tribes had entrance, and was there +Sensible present. Yet if heaven's great Lord, +Almighty foe to ill, such favour shew'd, +In contemplation of the high effect, +Both what and who from him should issue forth, +It seems in reason's judgment well deserv'd: +Sith he of Rome, and of Rome's empire wide, +In heaven's empyreal height was chosen sire: +Both which, if truth be spoken, were ordain'd +And 'stablish'd for the holy place, where sits +Who to great Peter's sacred chair succeeds. +He from this journey, in thy song renown'd, +Learn'd things, that to his victory gave rise +And to the papal robe. In after-times +The chosen vessel also travel'd there, +To bring us back assurance in that faith, +Which is the entrance to salvation's way. +But I, why should I there presume? or who +Permits it? not, Aeneas I nor Paul. +Myself I deem not worthy, and none else +Will deem me. I, if on this voyage then +I venture, fear it will in folly end. +Thou, who art wise, better my meaning know'st, +Than I can speak." As one, who unresolves +What he hath late resolv'd, and with new thoughts +Changes his purpose, from his first intent +Remov'd; e'en such was I on that dun coast, +Wasting in thought my enterprise, at first +So eagerly embrac'd. "If right thy words +I scan," replied that shade magnanimous, +"Thy soul is by vile fear assail'd, which oft +So overcasts a man, that he recoils +From noblest resolution, like a beast +At some false semblance in the twilight gloom. +That from this terror thou mayst free thyself, +I will instruct thee why I came, and what +I heard in that same instant, when for thee +Grief touch'd me first. I was among the tribe, +Who rest suspended, when a dame, so blest +And lovely, I besought her to command, +Call'd me; her eyes were brighter than the star +Of day; and she with gentle voice and soft +Angelically tun'd her speech address'd: +"O courteous shade of Mantua! thou whose fame +Yet lives, and shall live long as nature lasts! +A friend, not of my fortune but myself, +On the wide desert in his road has met +Hindrance so great, that he through fear has turn'd. +Now much I dread lest he past help have stray'd, +And I be ris'n too late for his relief, +From what in heaven of him I heard. Speed now, +And by thy eloquent persuasive tongue, +And by all means for his deliverance meet, +Assist him. So to me will comfort spring. +I who now bid thee on this errand forth +Am Beatrice; from a place I come + +(Note: Beatrice. I use this word, as it is +pronounced in the Italian, as consisting of four +syllables, of which the third is a long one.) + +Revisited with joy. Love brought me thence, +Who prompts my speech. When in my Master's sight +I stand, thy praise to him I oft will tell." + She then was silent, and I thus began: +"O Lady! by whose influence alone, +Mankind excels whatever is contain'd +Within that heaven which hath the smallest orb, +So thy command delights me, that to obey, +If it were done already, would seem late. +No need hast thou farther to speak thy will; +Yet tell the reason, why thou art not loth +To leave that ample space, where to return +Thou burnest, for this centre here beneath." + She then: "Since thou so deeply wouldst inquire, +I will instruct thee briefly, why no dread +Hinders my entrance here. Those things alone +Are to be fear'd, whence evil may proceed, +None else, for none are terrible beside. +I am so fram'd by God, thanks to his grace! +That any suff'rance of your misery +Touches me not, nor flame of that fierce fire +Assails me. In high heaven a blessed dame +Besides, who mourns with such effectual grief +That hindrance, which I send thee to remove, +That God's stern judgment to her will inclines. +To Lucia calling, her she thus bespake: +"Now doth thy faithful servant need thy aid +And I commend him to thee." At her word +Sped Lucia, of all cruelty the foe, +And coming to the place, where I abode +Seated with Rachel, her of ancient days, +She thus address'd me: "Thou true praise of God! +Beatrice! why is not thy succour lent +To him, who so much lov'd thee, as to leave +For thy sake all the multitude admires? +Dost thou not hear how pitiful his wail, +Nor mark the death, which in the torrent flood, +Swoln mightier than a sea, him struggling holds?" +Ne'er among men did any with such speed +Haste to their profit, flee from their annoy, +As when these words were spoken, I came here, +Down from my blessed seat, trusting the force +Of thy pure eloquence, which thee, and all +Who well have mark'd it, into honour brings." + "When she had ended, her bright beaming eyes +Tearful she turn'd aside; whereat I felt +Redoubled zeal to serve thee. As she will'd, +Thus am I come: I sav'd thee from the beast, +Who thy near way across the goodly mount +Prevented. What is this comes o'er thee then? +Why, why dost thou hang back? why in thy breast +Harbour vile fear? why hast not courage there +And noble daring? Since three maids so blest +Thy safety plan, e'en in the court of heaven; +And so much certain good my words forebode." + As florets, by the frosty air of night +Bent down and clos'd, when day has blanch'd their leaves, +Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems; +So was my fainting vigour new restor'd, +And to my heart such kindly courage ran, +That I as one undaunted soon replied: +"O full of pity she, who undertook +My succour! and thou kind who didst perform +So soon her true behest! With such desire +Thou hast dispos'd me to renew my voyage, +That my first purpose fully is resum'd. +Lead on: one only will is in us both. +Thou art my guide, my master thou, and lord." + So spake I; and when he had onward mov'd, +I enter'd on the deep and woody way. + + + +CANTO III + +"THROUGH me you pass into the city of woe: +Through me you pass into eternal pain: +Through me among the people lost for aye. +Justice the founder of my fabric mov'd: +To rear me was the task of power divine, +Supremest wisdom, and primeval love. +Before me things create were none, save things +Eternal, and eternal I endure. +All hope abandon ye who enter here." + Such characters in colour dim I mark'd +Over a portal's lofty arch inscrib'd: +Whereat I thus: "Master, these words import +Hard meaning." He as one prepar'd replied: +"Here thou must all distrust behind thee leave; +Here be vile fear extinguish'd. We are come +Where I have told thee we shall see the souls +To misery doom'd, who intellectual good +Have lost." And when his hand he had stretch'd forth +To mine, with pleasant looks, whence I was cheer'd, +Into that secret place he led me on. + Here sighs with lamentations and loud moans +Resounded through the air pierc'd by no star, +That e'en I wept at entering. Various tongues, +Horrible languages, outcries of woe, +Accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse, +With hands together smote that swell'd the sounds, +Made up a tumult, that for ever whirls +Round through that air with solid darkness stain'd, +Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies. + I then, with error yet encompass'd, cried: +"O master! What is this I hear? What race +Are these, who seem so overcome with woe?" + He thus to me: "This miserable fate +Suffer the wretched souls of those, who liv'd +Without or praise or blame, with that ill band +Of angels mix'd, who nor rebellious prov'd +Nor yet were true to God, but for themselves +Were only. From his bounds Heaven drove them forth, +Not to impair his lustre, nor the depth +Of Hell receives them, lest th' accursed tribe +Should glory thence with exultation vain." + I then: "Master! what doth aggrieve them thus, +That they lament so loud?" He straight replied: +"That will I tell thee briefly. These of death +No hope may entertain: and their blind life +So meanly passes, that all other lots +They envy. Fame of them the world hath none, +Nor suffers; mercy and justice scorn them both. +Speak not of them, but look, and pass them by." + And I, who straightway look'd, beheld a flag, +Which whirling ran around so rapidly, +That it no pause obtain'd: and following came +Such a long train of spirits, I should ne'er +Have thought, that death so many had despoil'd. + When some of these I recogniz'd, I saw +And knew the shade of him, who to base fear +Yielding, abjur'd his high estate. Forthwith +I understood for certain this the tribe +Of those ill spirits both to God displeasing +And to his foes. These wretches, who ne'er lived, +Went on in nakedness, and sorely stung +By wasps and hornets, which bedew'd their cheeks +With blood, that mix'd with tears dropp'd to their feet, +And by disgustful worms was gather'd there. + Then looking farther onwards I beheld +A throng upon the shore of a great stream: +Whereat I thus: "Sir! grant me now to know +Whom here we view, and whence impell'd they seem +So eager to pass o'er, as I discern +Through the blear light?" He thus to me in few: +"This shalt thou know, soon as our steps arrive +Beside the woeful tide of Acheron." + Then with eyes downward cast and fill'd with shame, +Fearing my words offensive to his ear, +Till we had reach'd the river, I from speech +Abstain'd. And lo! toward us in a bark +Comes on an old man hoary white with eld, +Crying, "Woe to you wicked spirits! hope not +Ever to see the sky again. I come +To take you to the other shore across, +Into eternal darkness, there to dwell +In fierce heat and in ice. And thou, who there +Standest, live spirit! get thee hence, and leave +These who are dead." But soon as he beheld +I left them not, "By other way," said he, +"By other haven shalt thou come to shore, +Not by this passage; thee a nimbler boat +Must carry." Then to him thus spake my guide: +"Charon! thyself torment not: so 't is will'd, +Where will and power are one: ask thou no more." + Straightway in silence fell the shaggy cheeks +Of him the boatman o'er the livid lake, +Around whose eyes glar'd wheeling flames. Meanwhile +Those spirits, faint and naked, color chang'd, +And gnash'd their teeth, soon as the cruel words +They heard. God and their parents they blasphem'd, +The human kind, the place, the time, and seed +That did engender them and give them birth. + Then all together sorely wailing drew +To the curs'd strand, that every man must pass +Who fears not God. Charon, demoniac form, +With eyes of burning coal, collects them all, +Beck'ning, and each, that lingers, with his oar +Strikes. As fall off the light autumnal leaves, +One still another following, till the bough +Strews all its honours on the earth beneath; +E'en in like manner Adam's evil brood +Cast themselves one by one down from the shore, +Each at a beck, as falcon at his call. + Thus go they over through the umber'd wave, +And ever they on the opposing bank +Be landed, on this side another throng +Still gathers. "Son," thus spake the courteous guide, +"Those, who die subject to the wrath of God, +All here together come from every clime, +And to o'erpass the river are not loth: +For so heaven's justice goads them on, that fear +Is turn'd into desire. Hence ne'er hath past +Good spirit. If of thee Charon complain, +Now mayst thou know the import of his words." + This said, the gloomy region trembling shook +So terribly, that yet with clammy dews +Fear chills my brow. The sad earth gave a blast, +That, lightening, shot forth a vermilion flame, +Which all my senses conquer'd quite, and I +Down dropp'd, as one with sudden slumber seiz'd. + + + +CANTO IV + +BROKE the deep slumber in my brain a crash +Of heavy thunder, that I shook myself, +As one by main force rous'd. Risen upright, +My rested eyes I mov'd around, and search'd +With fixed ken to know what place it was, +Wherein I stood. For certain on the brink +I found me of the lamentable vale, +The dread abyss, that joins a thund'rous sound +Of plaints innumerable. Dark and deep, +And thick with clouds o'erspread, mine eye in vain +Explor'd its bottom, nor could aught discern. + "Now let us to the blind world there beneath +Descend;" the bard began all pale of look: +"I go the first, and thou shalt follow next." + Then I his alter'd hue perceiving, thus: +"How may I speed, if thou yieldest to dread, +Who still art wont to comfort me in doubt?" + He then: "The anguish of that race below +With pity stains my cheek, which thou for fear +Mistakest. Let us on. Our length of way +Urges to haste." Onward, this said, he mov'd; +And ent'ring led me with him on the bounds +Of the first circle, that surrounds th' abyss. +Here, as mine ear could note, no plaint was heard +Except of sighs, that made th' eternal air +Tremble, not caus'd by tortures, but from grief +Felt by those multitudes, many and vast, +Of men, women, and infants. Then to me +The gentle guide: "Inquir'st thou not what spirits +Are these, which thou beholdest? Ere thou pass +Farther, I would thou know, that these of sin +Were blameless; and if aught they merited, +It profits not, since baptism was not theirs, +The portal to thy faith. If they before +The Gospel liv'd, they serv'd not God aright; +And among such am I. For these defects, +And for no other evil, we are lost; +Only so far afflicted, that we live +Desiring without hope." So grief assail'd +My heart at hearing this, for well I knew +Suspended in that Limbo many a soul +Of mighty worth. "O tell me, sire rever'd! +Tell me, my master!" I began through wish +Of full assurance in that holy faith, +Which vanquishes all error; "say, did e'er +Any, or through his own or other's merit, +Come forth from thence, whom afterward was blest?" + Piercing the secret purport of my speech, +He answer'd: "I was new to that estate, +When I beheld a puissant one arrive +Amongst us, with victorious trophy crown'd. +He forth the shade of our first parent drew, +Abel his child, and Noah righteous man, +Of Moses lawgiver for faith approv'd, +Of patriarch Abraham, and David king, +Israel with his sire and with his sons, +Nor without Rachel whom so hard he won, +And others many more, whom he to bliss +Exalted. Before these, be thou assur'd, +No spirit of human kind was ever sav'd." + We, while he spake, ceas'd not our onward road, +Still passing through the wood; for so I name +Those spirits thick beset. We were not far +On this side from the summit, when I kenn'd +A flame, that o'er the darken'd hemisphere +Prevailing shin'd. Yet we a little space +Were distant, not so far but I in part +Discover'd, that a tribe in honour high +That place possess'd. "O thou, who every art +And science valu'st! who are these, that boast +Such honour, separate from all the rest?" + He answer'd: "The renown of their great names +That echoes through your world above, acquires +Favour in heaven, which holds them thus advanc'd." +Meantime a voice I heard: "Honour the bard +Sublime! his shade returns that left us late!" +No sooner ceas'd the sound, than I beheld +Four mighty spirits toward us bend their steps, +Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad. + When thus my master kind began: "Mark him, +Who in his right hand bears that falchion keen, +The other three preceding, as their lord. +This is that Homer, of all bards supreme: +Flaccus the next in satire's vein excelling; +The third is Naso; Lucan is the last. +Because they all that appellation own, +With which the voice singly accosted me, +Honouring they greet me thus, and well they judge." + So I beheld united the bright school +Of him the monarch of sublimest song, +That o'er the others like an eagle soars. +When they together short discourse had held, +They turn'd to me, with salutation kind +Beck'ning me; at the which my master smil'd: +Nor was this all; but greater honour still +They gave me, for they made me of their tribe; +And I was sixth amid so learn'd a band. + Far as the luminous beacon on we pass'd +Speaking of matters, then befitting well +To speak, now fitter left untold. At foot +Of a magnificent castle we arriv'd, +Seven times with lofty walls begirt, and round +Defended by a pleasant stream. O'er this +As o'er dry land we pass'd. Next through seven gates +I with those sages enter'd, and we came +Into a mead with lively verdure fresh. + There dwelt a race, who slow their eyes around +Majestically mov'd, and in their port +Bore eminent authority; they spake +Seldom, but all their words were tuneful sweet. + We to one side retir'd, into a place +Open and bright and lofty, whence each one +Stood manifest to view. Incontinent +There on the green enamel of the plain +Were shown me the great spirits, by whose sight +I am exalted in my own esteem. + Electra there I saw accompanied +By many, among whom Hector I knew, +Anchises' pious son, and with hawk's eye +Caesar all arm'd, and by Camilla there +Penthesilea. On the other side +Old King Latinus, seated by his child +Lavinia, and that Brutus I beheld, +Who Tarquin chas'd, Lucretia, Cato's wife +Marcia, with Julia and Cornelia there; +And sole apart retir'd, the Soldan fierce. + Then when a little more I rais'd my brow, +I spied the master of the sapient throng, +Seated amid the philosophic train. +Him all admire, all pay him rev'rence due. +There Socrates and Plato both I mark'd, +Nearest to him in rank; Democritus, +Who sets the world at chance, Diogenes, +With Heraclitus, and Empedocles, +And Anaxagoras, and Thales sage, +Zeno, and Dioscorides well read +In nature's secret lore. Orpheus I mark'd +And Linus, Tully and moral Seneca, +Euclid and Ptolemy, Hippocrates, +Galenus, Avicen, and him who made +That commentary vast, Averroes. + Of all to speak at full were vain attempt; +For my wide theme so urges, that ofttimes +My words fall short of what bechanc'd. In two +The six associates part. Another way +My sage guide leads me, from that air serene, +Into a climate ever vex'd with storms: +And to a part I come where no light shines. + + + +CANTO V + +FROM the first circle I descended thus +Down to the second, which, a lesser space +Embracing, so much more of grief contains +Provoking bitter moans. There, Minos stands +Grinning with ghastly feature: he, of all +Who enter, strict examining the crimes, +Gives sentence, and dismisses them beneath, +According as he foldeth him around: +For when before him comes th' ill fated soul, +It all confesses; and that judge severe +Of sins, considering what place in hell +Suits the transgression, with his tail so oft +Himself encircles, as degrees beneath +He dooms it to descend. Before him stand +Always a num'rous throng; and in his turn +Each one to judgment passing, speaks, and hears +His fate, thence downward to his dwelling hurl'd. + "O thou! who to this residence of woe +Approachest?" when he saw me coming, cried +Minos, relinquishing his dread employ, +"Look how thou enter here; beware in whom +Thou place thy trust; let not the entrance broad +Deceive thee to thy harm." To him my guide: +"Wherefore exclaimest? Hinder not his way +By destiny appointed; so 'tis will'd +Where will and power are one. Ask thou no more." + Now 'gin the rueful wailings to be heard. +Now am I come where many a plaining voice +Smites on mine ear. Into a place I came +Where light was silent all. Bellowing there groan'd +A noise as of a sea in tempest torn +By warring winds. The stormy blast of hell +With restless fury drives the spirits on +Whirl'd round and dash'd amain with sore annoy. +When they arrive before the ruinous sweep, +There shrieks are heard, there lamentations, moans, +And blasphemies 'gainst the good Power in heaven. + I understood that to this torment sad +The carnal sinners are condemn'd, in whom +Reason by lust is sway'd. As in large troops +And multitudinous, when winter reigns, +The starlings on their wings are borne abroad; +So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls. +On this side and on that, above, below, +It drives them: hope of rest to solace them +Is none, nor e'en of milder pang. As cranes, +Chanting their dol'rous notes, traverse the sky, +Stretch'd out in long array: so I beheld +Spirits, who came loud wailing, hurried on +By their dire doom. Then I: "Instructor! who +Are these, by the black air so scourg'd?"--" The first +'Mong those, of whom thou question'st," he replied, +"O'er many tongues was empress. She in vice +Of luxury was so shameless, that she made +Liking be lawful by promulg'd decree, +To clear the blame she had herself incurr'd. +This is Semiramis, of whom 'tis writ, +That she succeeded Ninus her espous'd; +And held the land, which now the Soldan rules. +The next in amorous fury slew herself, +And to Sicheus' ashes broke her faith: +Then follows Cleopatra, lustful queen." + There mark'd I Helen, for whose sake so long +The time was fraught with evil; there the great +Achilles, who with love fought to the end. +Paris I saw, and Tristan; and beside +A thousand more he show'd me, and by name +Pointed them out, whom love bereav'd of life. + When I had heard my sage instructor name +Those dames and knights of antique days, o'erpower'd +By pity, well-nigh in amaze my mind +Was lost; and I began: "Bard! willingly +I would address those two together coming, +Which seem so light before the wind." He thus: +"Note thou, when nearer they to us approach. +Then by that love which carries them along, +Entreat; and they will come." Soon as the wind +Sway'd them toward us, I thus fram'd my speech: +"O wearied spirits! come, and hold discourse +With us, if by none else restrain'd." As doves +By fond desire invited, on wide wings +And firm, to their sweet nest returning home, +Cleave the air, wafted by their will along; +Thus issu'd from that troop, where Dido ranks, +They through the ill air speeding; with such force +My cry prevail'd by strong affection urg'd. + "O gracious creature and benign! who go'st +Visiting, through this element obscure, +Us, who the world with bloody stain imbru'd; +If for a friend the King of all we own'd, +Our pray'r to him should for thy peace arise, +Since thou hast pity on our evil plight. +()f whatsoe'er to hear or to discourse +It pleases thee, that will we hear, of that +Freely with thee discourse, while e'er the wind, +As now, is mute. The land, that gave me birth, +Is situate on the coast, where Po descends +To rest in ocean with his sequent streams. + "Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt, +Entangled him by that fair form, from me +Ta'en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still: +Love, that denial takes from none belov'd, +Caught me with pleasing him so passing well, +That, as thou see'st, he yet deserts me not. +Love brought us to one death: Caina waits +The soul, who spilt our life." Such were their words; +At hearing which downward I bent my looks, +And held them there so long, that the bard cried: +"What art thou pond'ring?" I in answer thus: +"Alas! by what sweet thoughts, what fond desire +Must they at length to that ill pass have reach'd!" + Then turning, I to them my speech address'd. +And thus began: "Francesca! your sad fate +Even to tears my grief and pity moves. +But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs, +By what, and how love granted, that ye knew +Your yet uncertain wishes?" She replied: +"No greater grief than to remember days +Of joy, when mis'ry is at hand! That kens +Thy learn'd instructor. Yet so eagerly +If thou art bent to know the primal root, +From whence our love gat being, I will do, +As one, who weeps and tells his tale. One day +For our delight we read of Lancelot, +How him love thrall'd. Alone we were, and no +Suspicion near us. Ofttimes by that reading +Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue +Fled from our alter'd cheek. But at one point +Alone we fell. When of that smile we read, +The wished smile, rapturously kiss'd +By one so deep in love, then he, who ne'er +From me shall separate, at once my lips +All trembling kiss'd. The book and writer both +Were love's purveyors. In its leaves that day +We read no more." While thus one spirit spake, +The other wail'd so sorely, that heartstruck +I through compassion fainting, seem'd not far +From death, and like a corpse fell to the ground. + + + +CANTO VI + +MY sense reviving, that erewhile had droop'd +With pity for the kindred shades, whence grief +O'ercame me wholly, straight around I see +New torments, new tormented souls, which way +Soe'er I move, or turn, or bend my sight. +In the third circle I arrive, of show'rs +Ceaseless, accursed, heavy, and cold, unchang'd +For ever, both in kind and in degree. +Large hail, discolour'd water, sleety flaw +Through the dun midnight air stream'd down amain: +Stank all the land whereon that tempest fell. + Cerberus, cruel monster, fierce and strange, +Through his wide threefold throat barks as a dog +Over the multitude immers'd beneath. +His eyes glare crimson, black his unctuous beard, +His belly large, and claw'd the hands, with which +He tears the spirits, flays them, and their limbs +Piecemeal disparts. Howling there spread, as curs, +Under the rainy deluge, with one side +The other screening, oft they roll them round, +A wretched, godless crew. When that great worm +Descried us, savage Cerberus, he op'd +His jaws, and the fangs show'd us; not a limb +Of him but trembled. Then my guide, his palms +Expanding on the ground, thence filled with earth +Rais'd them, and cast it in his ravenous maw. +E'en as a dog, that yelling bays for food +His keeper, when the morsel comes, lets fall +His fury, bent alone with eager haste +To swallow it; so dropp'd the loathsome cheeks +Of demon Cerberus, who thund'ring stuns +The spirits, that they for deafness wish in vain. + We, o'er the shades thrown prostrate by the brunt +Of the heavy tempest passing, set our feet +Upon their emptiness, that substance seem'd. + They all along the earth extended lay +Save one, that sudden rais'd himself to sit, +Soon as that way he saw us pass. "O thou!" +He cried, "who through the infernal shades art led, +Own, if again thou know'st me. Thou wast fram'd +Or ere my frame was broken." I replied: +"The anguish thou endur'st perchance so takes +Thy form from my remembrance, that it seems +As if I saw thee never. But inform +Me who thou art, that in a place so sad +Art set, and in such torment, that although +Other be greater, more disgustful none +Can be imagin'd." He in answer thus: +"Thy city heap'd with envy to the brim, +Ay that the measure overflows its bounds, +Held me in brighter days. Ye citizens +Were wont to name me Ciacco. For the sin +Of glutt'ny, damned vice, beneath this rain, +E'en as thou see'st, I with fatigue am worn; +Nor I sole spirit in this woe: all these +Have by like crime incurr'd like punishment." + No more he said, and I my speech resum'd: +"Ciacco! thy dire affliction grieves me much, +Even to tears. But tell me, if thou know'st, +What shall at length befall the citizens +Of the divided city; whether any just one +Inhabit there: and tell me of the cause, +Whence jarring discord hath assail'd it thus?" + He then: "After long striving they will come +To blood; and the wild party from the woods +Will chase the other with much injury forth. +Then it behoves, that this must fall, within +Three solar circles; and the other rise +By borrow'd force of one, who under shore +Now rests. It shall a long space hold aloof +Its forehead, keeping under heavy weight +The other oppress'd, indignant at the load, +And grieving sore. The just are two in number, +But they neglected. Av'rice, envy, pride, +Three fatal sparks, have set the hearts of all +On fire." Here ceas'd the lamentable sound; +And I continu'd thus: "Still would I learn +More from thee, farther parley still entreat. +Of Farinata and Tegghiaio say, +They who so well deserv'd, of Giacopo, +Arrigo, Mosca, and the rest, who bent +Their minds on working good. Oh! tell me where +They bide, and to their knowledge let me come. +For I am press'd with keen desire to hear, +If heaven's sweet cup or poisonous drug of hell +Be to their lip assign'd." He answer'd straight: +"These are yet blacker spirits. Various crimes +Have sunk them deeper in the dark abyss. +If thou so far descendest, thou mayst see them. +But to the pleasant world when thou return'st, +Of me make mention, I entreat thee, there. +No more I tell thee, answer thee no more." + This said, his fixed eyes he turn'd askance, +A little ey'd me, then bent down his head, +And 'midst his blind companions with it fell. + When thus my guide: "No more his bed he leaves, +Ere the last angel-trumpet blow. The Power +Adverse to these shall then in glory come, +Each one forthwith to his sad tomb repair, +Resume his fleshly vesture and his form, +And hear the eternal doom re-echoing rend +The vault." So pass'd we through that mixture foul +Of spirits and rain, with tardy steps; meanwhile +Touching, though slightly, on the life to come. +For thus I question'd: "Shall these tortures, Sir! +When the great sentence passes, be increas'd, +Or mitigated, or as now severe?" + He then: "Consult thy knowledge; that decides +That as each thing to more perfection grows, +It feels more sensibly both good and pain. +Though ne'er to true perfection may arrive +This race accurs'd, yet nearer then than now +They shall approach it." Compassing that path +Circuitous we journeyed, and discourse +Much more than I relate between us pass'd: +Till at the point, where the steps led below, +Arriv'd, there Plutus, the great foe, we found. + + + +CANTO VII + +"AH me! O Satan! Satan!" loud exclaim'd +Plutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm: +And the kind sage, whom no event surpris'd, +To comfort me thus spake: "Let not thy fear +Harm thee, for power in him, be sure, is none +To hinder down this rock thy safe descent." +Then to that sworn lip turning, " Peace!" he cried, +"Curs'd wolf! thy fury inward on thyself +Prey, and consume thee! Through the dark profound +Not without cause he passes. So 't is will'd +On high, there where the great Archangel pour'd +Heav'n's vengeance on the first adulterer proud." + As sails full spread and bellying with the wind +Drop suddenly collaps'd, if the mast split; +So to the ground down dropp'd the cruel fiend. + Thus we, descending to the fourth steep ledge, +Gain'd on the dismal shore, that all the woe +Hems in of all the universe. Ah me! +Almighty Justice! in what store thou heap'st +New pains, new troubles, as I here beheld! +Wherefore doth fault of ours bring us to this? + E'en as a billow, on Charybdis rising, +Against encounter'd billow dashing breaks; +Such is the dance this wretched race must lead, +Whom more than elsewhere numerous here I found, +From one side and the other, with loud voice, +Both roll'd on weights by main forge of their breasts, +Then smote together, and each one forthwith +Roll'd them back voluble, turning again, +Exclaiming these, "Why holdest thou so fast?" +Those answering, "And why castest thou away?" +So still repeating their despiteful song, +They to the opposite point on either hand +Travers'd the horrid circle: then arriv'd, +Both turn'd them round, and through the middle space +Conflicting met again. At sight whereof +I, stung with grief, thus spake: "O say, my guide! +What race is this? Were these, whose heads are shorn, +On our left hand, all sep'rate to the church?" + He straight replied: "In their first life these all +In mind were so distorted, that they made, +According to due measure, of their wealth, +No use. This clearly from their words collect, +Which they howl forth, at each extremity +Arriving of the circle, where their crime +Contrary' in kind disparts them. To the church +Were separate those, that with no hairy cowls +Are crown'd, both Popes and Cardinals, o'er whom +Av'rice dominion absolute maintains." + I then: "Mid such as these some needs must be, +Whom I shall recognize, that with the blot +Of these foul sins were stain'd." He answering thus: +"Vain thought conceiv'st thou. That ignoble life, +Which made them vile before, now makes them dark, +And to all knowledge indiscernible. +Forever they shall meet in this rude shock: +These from the tomb with clenched grasp shall rise, +Those with close-shaven locks. That ill they gave, +And ill they kept, hath of the beauteous world +Depriv'd, and set them at this strife, which needs +No labour'd phrase of mine to set if off. +Now may'st thou see, my son! how brief, how vain, +The goods committed into fortune's hands, +For which the human race keep such a coil! +Not all the gold, that is beneath the moon, +Or ever hath been, of these toil-worn souls +Might purchase rest for one." I thus rejoin'd: + "My guide! of thee this also would I learn; +This fortune, that thou speak'st of, what it is, +Whose talons grasp the blessings of the world?" + He thus: "O beings blind! what ignorance +Besets you? Now my judgment hear and mark. +He, whose transcendent wisdom passes all, +The heavens creating, gave them ruling powers +To guide them, so that each part shines to each, +Their light in equal distribution pour'd. +By similar appointment he ordain'd +Over the world's bright images to rule. +Superintendence of a guiding hand +And general minister, which at due time +May change the empty vantages of life +From race to race, from one to other's blood, +Beyond prevention of man's wisest care: +Wherefore one nation rises into sway, +Another languishes, e'en as her will +Decrees, from us conceal'd, as in the grass +The serpent train. Against her nought avails +Your utmost wisdom. She with foresight plans, +Judges, and carries on her reign, as theirs +The other powers divine. Her changes know +Nore intermission: by necessity +She is made swift, so frequent come who claim +Succession in her favours. This is she, +So execrated e'en by those, whose debt +To her is rather praise; they wrongfully +With blame requite her, and with evil word; +But she is blessed, and for that recks not: +Amidst the other primal beings glad +Rolls on her sphere, and in her bliss exults. +Now on our way pass we, to heavier woe +Descending: for each star is falling now, +That mounted at our entrance, and forbids +Too long our tarrying." We the circle cross'd +To the next steep, arriving at a well, +That boiling pours itself down to a foss +Sluic'd from its source. Far murkier was the wave +Than sablest grain: and we in company +Of the' inky waters, journeying by their side, +Enter'd, though by a different track, beneath. +Into a lake, the Stygian nam'd, expands +The dismal stream, when it hath reach'd the foot +Of the grey wither'd cliffs. Intent I stood +To gaze, and in the marish sunk descried +A miry tribe, all naked, and with looks +Betok'ning rage. They with their hands alone +Struck not, but with the head, the breast, the feet, +Cutting each other piecemeal with their fangs. + The good instructor spake; "Now seest thou, son! +The souls of those, whom anger overcame. +This too for certain know, that underneath +The water dwells a multitude, whose sighs +Into these bubbles make the surface heave, +As thine eye tells thee wheresoe'er it turn. +Fix'd in the slime they say: "Sad once were we +In the sweet air made gladsome by the sun, +Carrying a foul and lazy mist within: +Now in these murky settlings are we sad." +Such dolorous strain they gurgle in their throats. +But word distinct can utter none." Our route +Thus compass'd we, a segment widely stretch'd +Between the dry embankment, and the core +Of the loath'd pool, turning meanwhile our eyes +Downward on those who gulp'd its muddy lees; +Nor stopp'd, till to a tower's low base we came. + + + +CANTO VIII + +MY theme pursuing, I relate that ere +We reach'd the lofty turret's base, our eyes +Its height ascended, where two cressets hung +We mark'd, and from afar another light +Return the signal, so remote, that scarce +The eye could catch its beam. I turning round +To the deep source of knowledge, thus inquir'd: +"Say what this means? and what that other light +In answer set? what agency doth this?" + "There on the filthy waters," he replied, +"E'en now what next awaits us mayst thou see, +If the marsh-gender'd fog conceal it not." + Never was arrow from the cord dismiss'd, +That ran its way so nimbly through the air, +As a small bark, that through the waves I spied +Toward us coming, under the sole sway +Of one that ferried it, who cried aloud: +"Art thou arriv'd, fell spirit?"--"Phlegyas, Phlegyas, +This time thou criest in vain," my lord replied; +"No longer shalt thou have us, but while o'er +The slimy pool we pass." As one who hears +Of some great wrong he hath sustain'd, whereat +Inly he pines; so Phlegyas inly pin'd +In his fierce ire. My guide descending stepp'd +Into the skiff, and bade me enter next +Close at his side; nor till my entrance seem'd +The vessel freighted. Soon as both embark'd, +Cutting the waves, goes on the ancient prow, +More deeply than with others it is wont. + While we our course o'er the dead channel held. +One drench'd in mire before me came, and said; +"Who art thou, that thou comest ere thine hour?" + I answer'd: "Though I come, I tarry not; +But who art thou, that art become so foul?" + "One, as thou seest, who mourn: " he straight replied. + To which I thus: " In mourning and in woe, +Curs'd spirit! tarry thou. I know thee well, +E'en thus in filth disguis'd." Then stretch'd he forth +Hands to the bark; whereof my teacher sage +Aware, thrusting him back: "Away! down there +To the' other dogs!" then, with his arms my neck +Encircling, kiss'd my cheek, and spake: "O soul +Justly disdainful! blest was she in whom +Thou was conceiv'd! He in the world was one +For arrogance noted; to his memory +No virtue lends its lustre; even so +Here is his shadow furious. There above +How many now hold themselves mighty kings +Who here like swine shall wallow in the mire, +Leaving behind them horrible dispraise!" + I then: "Master! him fain would I behold +Whelm'd in these dregs, before we quit the lake." + He thus: "Or ever to thy view the shore +Be offer'd, satisfied shall be that wish, +Which well deserves completion." Scarce his words +Were ended, when I saw the miry tribes +Set on him with such violence, that yet +For that render I thanks to God and praise +"To Filippo Argenti:" cried they all: +And on himself the moody Florentine +Turn'd his avenging fangs. Him here we left, +Nor speak I of him more. But on mine ear +Sudden a sound of lamentation smote, +Whereat mine eye unbarr'd I sent abroad. + And thus the good instructor: "Now, my son! +Draws near the city, that of Dis is nam'd, +With its grave denizens, a mighty throng." + I thus: "The minarets already, Sir! +There certes in the valley I descry, +Gleaming vermilion, as if they from fire +Had issu'd." He replied: "Eternal fire, +That inward burns, shows them with ruddy flame +Illum'd; as in this nether hell thou seest." + We came within the fosses deep, that moat +This region comfortless. The walls appear'd +As they were fram'd of iron. We had made +Wide circuit, ere a place we reach'd, where loud +The mariner cried vehement: "Go forth! +The' entrance is here!" Upon the gates I spied +More than a thousand, who of old from heaven +Were hurl'd. With ireful gestures, "Who is this," +They cried, "that without death first felt, goes through +The regions of the dead?" My sapient guide +Made sign that he for secret parley wish'd; +Whereat their angry scorn abating, thus +They spake: "Come thou alone; and let him go +Who hath so hardily enter'd this realm. +Alone return he by his witless way; +If well he know it, let him prove. For thee, +Here shalt thou tarry, who through clime so dark +Hast been his escort." Now bethink thee, reader! +What cheer was mine at sound of those curs'd words. +I did believe I never should return. + "O my lov'd guide! who more than seven times +Security hast render'd me, and drawn +From peril deep, whereto I stood expos'd, +Desert me not," I cried, "in this extreme. +And if our onward going be denied, +Together trace we back our steps with speed." + My liege, who thither had conducted me, +Replied: "Fear not: for of our passage none +Hath power to disappoint us, by such high +Authority permitted. But do thou +Expect me here; meanwhile thy wearied spirit +Comfort, and feed with kindly hope, assur'd +I will not leave thee in this lower world." + This said, departs the sire benevolent, +And quits me. Hesitating I remain +At war 'twixt will and will not in my thoughts. + I could not hear what terms he offer'd them, +But they conferr'd not long, for all at once +To trial fled within. Clos'd were the gates +By those our adversaries on the breast +Of my liege lord: excluded he return'd +To me with tardy steps. Upon the ground +His eyes were bent, and from his brow eras'd +All confidence, while thus with sighs he spake: +"Who hath denied me these abodes of woe?" +Then thus to me: "That I am anger'd, think +No ground of terror: in this trial I +Shall vanquish, use what arts they may within +For hindrance. This their insolence, not new, +Erewhile at gate less secret they display'd, +Which still is without bolt; upon its arch +Thou saw'st the deadly scroll: and even now +On this side of its entrance, down the steep, +Passing the circles, unescorted, comes +One whose strong might can open us this land." + + + +CANTO IX + +THE hue, which coward dread on my pale cheeks +Imprinted, when I saw my guide turn back, +Chas'd that from his which newly they had worn, +And inwardly restrain'd it. He, as one +Who listens, stood attentive: for his eye +Not far could lead him through the sable air, +And the thick-gath'ring cloud. "It yet behooves +We win this fight"--thus he began--" if not-- +Such aid to us is offer'd. --Oh, how long +Me seems it, ere the promis'd help arrive!" + I noted, how the sequel of his words +Clok'd their beginning; for the last he spake +Agreed not with the first. But not the less +My fear was at his saying; sith I drew +To import worse perchance, than that he held, +His mutilated speech. "Doth ever any +Into this rueful concave's extreme depth +Descend, out of the first degree, whose pain +Is deprivation merely of sweet hope?" + Thus I inquiring. "Rarely," he replied, +"It chances, that among us any makes +This journey, which I wend. Erewhile 'tis true +Once came I here beneath, conjur'd by fell +Erictho, sorceress, who compell'd the shades +Back to their bodies. No long space my flesh +Was naked of me, when within these walls +She made me enter, to draw forth a spirit +From out of Judas' circle. Lowest place +Is that of all, obscurest, and remov'd +Farthest from heav'n's all-circling orb. The road +Full well I know: thou therefore rest secure. +That lake, the noisome stench exhaling, round +The city' of grief encompasses, which now +We may not enter without rage." Yet more +He added: but I hold it not in mind, +For that mine eye toward the lofty tower +Had drawn me wholly, to its burning top. +Where in an instant I beheld uprisen +At once three hellish furies stain'd with blood: +In limb and motion feminine they seem'd; +Around them greenest hydras twisting roll'd +Their volumes; adders and cerastes crept +Instead of hair, and their fierce temples bound. + He knowing well the miserable hags +Who tend the queen of endless woe, thus spake: +"Mark thou each dire Erinnys. To the left +This is Megaera; on the right hand she, +Who wails, Alecto; and Tisiphone +I' th' midst." This said, in silence he remain'd +Their breast they each one clawing tore; themselves +Smote with their palms, and such shrill clamour rais'd, +That to the bard I clung, suspicion-bound. +"Hasten Medusa: so to adamant +Him shall we change;" all looking down exclaim'd. +"E'en when by Theseus' might assail'd, we took +No ill revenge." "Turn thyself round, and keep +Thy count'nance hid; for if the Gorgon dire +Be shown, and thou shouldst view it, thy return +Upwards would be for ever lost." This said, +Himself my gentle master turn'd me round, +Nor trusted he my hands, but with his own +He also hid me. Ye of intellect +Sound and entire, mark well the lore conceal'd +Under close texture of the mystic strain! + And now there came o'er the perturbed waves +Loud-crashing, terrible, a sound that made +Either shore tremble, as if of a wind +Impetuous, from conflicting vapours sprung, +That 'gainst some forest driving all its might, +Plucks off the branches, beats them down and hurls +Afar; then onward passing proudly sweeps +Its whirlwind rage, while beasts and shepherds fly. + Mine eyes he loos'd, and spake: "And now direct +Thy visual nerve along that ancient foam, +There, thickest where the smoke ascends." As frogs +Before their foe the serpent, through the wave +Ply swiftly all, till at the ground each one +Lies on a heap; more than a thousand spirits +Destroy'd, so saw I fleeing before one +Who pass'd with unwet feet the Stygian sound. +He, from his face removing the gross air, +Oft his left hand forth stretch'd, and seem'd alone +By that annoyance wearied. I perceiv'd +That he was sent from heav'n, and to my guide +Turn'd me, who signal made that I should stand +Quiet, and bend to him. Ah me! how full +Of noble anger seem'd he! To the gate +He came, and with his wand touch'd it, whereat +Open without impediment it flew. + "Outcasts of heav'n! O abject race and scorn'd!" +Began he on the horrid grunsel standing, +"Whence doth this wild excess of insolence +Lodge in you? wherefore kick you 'gainst that will +Ne'er frustrate of its end, and which so oft +Hath laid on you enforcement of your pangs? +What profits at the fays to but the horn? +Your Cerberus, if ye remember, hence +Bears still, peel'd of their hair, his throat and maw." + This said, he turn'd back o'er the filthy way, +And syllable to us spake none, but wore +The semblance of a man by other care +Beset, and keenly press'd, than thought of him +Who in his presence stands. Then we our steps +Toward that territory mov'd, secure +After the hallow'd words. We unoppos'd +There enter'd; and my mind eager to learn +What state a fortress like to that might hold, +I soon as enter'd throw mine eye around, +And see on every part wide-stretching space +Replete with bitter pain and torment ill. + As where Rhone stagnates on the plains of Arles, +Or as at Pola, near Quarnaro's gulf, +That closes Italy and laves her bounds, +The place is all thick spread with sepulchres; +So was it here, save what in horror here +Excell'd: for 'midst the graves were scattered flames, +Wherewith intensely all throughout they burn'd, +That iron for no craft there hotter needs. + Their lids all hung suspended, and beneath +From them forth issu'd lamentable moans, +Such as the sad and tortur'd well might raise. + I thus: "Master! say who are these, interr'd +Within these vaults, of whom distinct we hear +The dolorous sighs?" He answer thus return'd: + "The arch-heretics are here, accompanied +By every sect their followers; and much more, +Than thou believest, tombs are freighted: like +With like is buried; and the monuments +Are different in degrees of heat. "This said, +He to the right hand turning, on we pass'd +Betwixt the afflicted and the ramparts high. + + + +CANTO X + +NOW by a secret pathway we proceed, +Between the walls, that hem the region round, +And the tormented souls: my master first, +I close behind his steps. "Virtue supreme!" +I thus began; "who through these ample orbs +In circuit lead'st me, even as thou will'st, +Speak thou, and satisfy my wish. May those, +Who lie within these sepulchres, be seen? +Already all the lids are rais'd, and none +O'er them keeps watch." He thus in answer spake +"They shall be closed all, what-time they here +From Josaphat return'd shall come, and bring +Their bodies, which above they now have left. +The cemetery on this part obtain +With Epicurus all his followers, +Who with the body make the spirit die. +Here therefore satisfaction shall be soon +Both to the question ask'd, and to the wish, +Which thou conceal'st in silence." I replied: +"I keep not, guide belov'd! from thee my heart +Secreted, but to shun vain length of words, +A lesson erewhile taught me by thyself." + "O Tuscan! thou who through the city of fire +Alive art passing, so discreet of speech! +Here please thee stay awhile. Thy utterance +Declares the place of thy nativity +To be that noble land, with which perchance +I too severely dealt." Sudden that sound +Forth issu'd from a vault, whereat in fear +I somewhat closer to my leader's side +Approaching, he thus spake: "What dost thou? Turn. +Lo, Farinata, there! who hath himself +Uplifted: from his girdle upwards all +Expos'd behold him." On his face was mine +Already fix'd; his breast and forehead there +Erecting, seem'd as in high scorn he held +E'en hell. Between the sepulchres to him +My guide thrust me with fearless hands and prompt, +This warning added: "See thy words be clear!" + He, soon as there I stood at the tomb's foot, +Ey'd me a space, then in disdainful mood +Address'd me: "Say, what ancestors were thine?" + I, willing to obey him, straight reveal'd +The whole, nor kept back aught: whence he, his brow +Somewhat uplifting, cried: "Fiercely were they +Adverse to me, my party, and the blood +From whence I sprang: twice therefore I abroad +Scatter'd them." "Though driv'n out, yet they each time +From all parts," answer'd I, "return'd; an art +Which yours have shown, they are not skill'd to learn." + Then, peering forth from the unclosed jaw, +Rose from his side a shade, high as the chin, +Leaning, methought, upon its knees uprais'd. +It look'd around, as eager to explore +If there were other with me; but perceiving +That fond imagination quench'd, with tears +Thus spake: "If thou through this blind prison go'st. +Led by thy lofty genius and profound, +Where is my son? and wherefore not with thee?" + I straight replied: "Not of myself I come, +By him, who there expects me, through this clime +Conducted, whom perchance Guido thy son +Had in contempt." Already had his words +And mode of punishment read me his name, +Whence I so fully answer'd. He at once +Exclaim'd, up starting, "How! said'st thou he HAD? +No longer lives he? Strikes not on his eye +The blessed daylight?" Then of some delay +I made ere my reply aware, down fell +Supine, not after forth appear'd he more. + Meanwhile the other, great of soul, near whom +I yet was station'd, chang'd not count'nance stern, +Nor mov'd the neck, nor bent his ribbed side. +"And if," continuing the first discourse, +"They in this art," he cried, "small skill have shown, +That doth torment me more e'en than this bed. +But not yet fifty times shall be relum'd +Her aspect, who reigns here Queen of this realm, +Ere thou shalt know the full weight of that art. +So to the pleasant world mayst thou return, +As thou shalt tell me, why in all their laws, +Against my kin this people is so fell?" + "The slaughter and great havoc," I replied, +"That colour'd Arbia's flood with crimson stain-- +To these impute, that in our hallow'd dome +Such orisons ascend." Sighing he shook +The head, then thus resum'd: "In that affray +I stood not singly, nor without just cause +Assuredly should with the rest have stirr'd; +But singly there I stood, when by consent +Of all, Florence had to the ground been raz'd, +The one who openly forbad the deed." + "So may thy lineage find at last repose," +I thus adjur'd him, "as thou solve this knot, +Which now involves my mind. If right I hear, +Ye seem to view beforehand, that which time +Leads with him, of the present uninform'd." + "We view, as one who hath an evil sight," +He answer'd, "plainly, objects far remote: +So much of his large spendour yet imparts +The' Almighty Ruler; but when they approach +Or actually exist, our intellect +Then wholly fails, nor of your human state +Except what others bring us know we aught. +Hence therefore mayst thou understand, that all +Our knowledge in that instant shall expire, +When on futurity the portals close." + Then conscious of my fault, and by remorse +Smitten, I added thus: "Now shalt thou say +To him there fallen, that his offspring still +Is to the living join'd; and bid him know, +That if from answer silent I abstain'd, +'Twas that my thought was occupied intent +Upon that error, which thy help hath solv'd." + But now my master summoning me back +I heard, and with more eager haste besought +The spirit to inform me, who with him +Partook his lot. He answer thus return'd: + "More than a thousand with me here are laid +Within is Frederick, second of that name, +And the Lord Cardinal, and of the rest +I speak not." He, this said, from sight withdrew. +But I my steps towards the ancient bard +Reverting, ruminated on the words +Betokening me such ill. Onward he mov'd, +And thus in going question'd: "Whence the' amaze +That holds thy senses wrapt?" I satisfied +The' inquiry, and the sage enjoin'd me straight: +"Let thy safe memory store what thou hast heard +To thee importing harm; and note thou this," +With his rais'd finger bidding me take heed, + "When thou shalt stand before her gracious beam, +Whose bright eye all surveys, she of thy life +The future tenour will to thee unfold." + Forthwith he to the left hand turn'd his feet: +We left the wall, and tow'rds the middle space +Went by a path, that to a valley strikes; +Which e'en thus high exhal'd its noisome steam. + + + +CANTO XI + +UPON the utmost verge of a high bank, +By craggy rocks environ'd round, we came, +Where woes beneath more cruel yet were stow'd: +And here to shun the horrible excess +Of fetid exhalation, upward cast +From the profound abyss, behind the lid +Of a great monument we stood retir'd, +Whereon this scroll I mark'd: "I have in charge +Pope Anastasius, whom Photinus drew +From the right path.--Ere our descent behooves +We make delay, that somewhat first the sense, +To the dire breath accustom'd, afterward +Regard it not." My master thus; to whom +Answering I spake: "Some compensation find +That the time past not wholly lost." He then: +"Lo! how my thoughts e'en to thy wishes tend! +My son! within these rocks," he thus began, +"Are three close circles in gradation plac'd, +As these which now thou leav'st. Each one is full +Of spirits accurs'd; but that the sight alone +Hereafter may suffice thee, listen how +And for what cause in durance they abide. + "Of all malicious act abhorr'd in heaven, +The end is injury; and all such end +Either by force or fraud works other's woe +But fraud, because of man peculiar evil, +To God is more displeasing; and beneath +The fraudulent are therefore doom'd to' endure +Severer pang. The violent occupy +All the first circle; and because to force +Three persons are obnoxious, in three rounds +Hach within other sep'rate is it fram'd. +To God, his neighbour, and himself, by man +Force may be offer'd; to himself I say +And his possessions, as thou soon shalt hear +At full. Death, violent death, and painful wounds +Upon his neighbour he inflicts; and wastes +By devastation, pillage, and the flames, +His substance. Slayers, and each one that smites +In malice, plund'rers, and all robbers, hence +The torment undergo of the first round +In different herds. Man can do violence +To himself and his own blessings: and for this +He in the second round must aye deplore +With unavailing penitence his crime, +Whoe'er deprives himself of life and light, +In reckless lavishment his talent wastes, +And sorrows there where he should dwell in joy. +To God may force be offer'd, in the heart +Denying and blaspheming his high power, +And nature with her kindly law contemning. +And thence the inmost round marks with its seal +Sodom and Cahors, and all such as speak +Contemptuously' of the Godhead in their hearts. + "Fraud, that in every conscience leaves a sting, +May be by man employ'd on one, whose trust +He wins, or on another who withholds +Strict confidence. Seems as the latter way +Broke but the bond of love which Nature makes. +Whence in the second circle have their nest +Dissimulation, witchcraft, flatteries, +Theft, falsehood, simony, all who seduce +To lust, or set their honesty at pawn, +With such vile scum as these. The other way +Forgets both Nature's general love, and that +Which thereto added afterwards gives birth +To special faith. Whence in the lesser circle, +Point of the universe, dread seat of Dis, +The traitor is eternally consum'd." + I thus: "Instructor, clearly thy discourse +Proceeds, distinguishing the hideous chasm +And its inhabitants with skill exact. +But tell me this: they of the dull, fat pool, +Whom the rain beats, or whom the tempest drives, +Or who with tongues so fierce conflicting meet, +Wherefore within the city fire-illum'd +Are not these punish'd, if God's wrath be on them? +And if it be not, wherefore in such guise +Are they condemned?" He answer thus return'd: +"Wherefore in dotage wanders thus thy mind, +Not so accustom'd? or what other thoughts +Possess it? Dwell not in thy memory +The words, wherein thy ethic page describes +Three dispositions adverse to Heav'n's will, +Incont'nence, malice, and mad brutishness, +And how incontinence the least offends +God, and least guilt incurs? If well thou note +This judgment, and remember who they are, +Without these walls to vain repentance doom'd, +Thou shalt discern why they apart are plac'd +From these fell spirits, and less wreakful pours +Justice divine on them its vengeance down." + "O Sun! who healest all imperfect sight, +Thou so content'st me, when thou solv'st my doubt, +That ignorance not less than knowledge charms. +Yet somewhat turn thee back," I in these words +Continu'd, "where thou saidst, that usury +Offends celestial Goodness; and this knot +Perplex'd unravel." He thus made reply: +"Philosophy, to an attentive ear, +Clearly points out, not in one part alone, +How imitative nature takes her course +From the celestial mind and from its art: +And where her laws the Stagyrite unfolds, +Not many leaves scann'd o'er, observing well +Thou shalt discover, that your art on her +Obsequious follows, as the learner treads +In his instructor's step, so that your art +Deserves the name of second in descent +From God. These two, if thou recall to mind +Creation's holy book, from the beginning +Were the right source of life and excellence +To human kind. But in another path +The usurer walks; and Nature in herself +And in her follower thus he sets at nought, +Placing elsewhere his hope. But follow now +My steps on forward journey bent; for now +The Pisces play with undulating glance +Along the' horizon, and the Wain lies all +O'er the north-west; and onward there a space +Is our steep passage down the rocky height." + + + +CANTO XII + +THE place where to descend the precipice +We came, was rough as Alp, and on its verge +Such object lay, as every eye would shun. + As is that ruin, which Adice's stream +On this side Trento struck, should'ring the wave, +Or loos'd by earthquake or for lack of prop; +For from the mountain's summit, whence it mov'd +To the low level, so the headlong rock +Is shiver'd, that some passage it might give +To him who from above would pass; e'en such +Into the chasm was that descent: and there +At point of the disparted ridge lay stretch'd +The infamy of Crete, detested brood +Of the feign'd heifer: and at sight of us +It gnaw'd itself, as one with rage distract. +To him my guide exclaim'd: "Perchance thou deem'st +The King of Athens here, who, in the world +Above, thy death contriv'd. Monster! avaunt! +He comes not tutor'd by thy sister's art, +But to behold your torments is he come." + Like to a bull, that with impetuous spring +Darts, at the moment when the fatal blow +Hath struck him, but unable to proceed +Plunges on either side; so saw I plunge +The Minotaur; whereat the sage exclaim'd: +"Run to the passage! while he storms, 't is well +That thou descend." Thus down our road we took +Through those dilapidated crags, that oft +Mov'd underneath my feet, to weight like theirs +Unus'd. I pond'ring went, and thus he spake: + "Perhaps thy thoughts are of this ruin'd steep, +Guarded by the brute violence, which I +Have vanquish'd now. Know then, that when I erst +Hither descended to the nether hell, +This rock was not yet fallen. But past doubt +(If well I mark) not long ere He arrived, +Who carried off from Dis the mighty spoil +Of the highest circle, then through all its bounds +Such trembling seiz'd the deep concave and foul, +I thought the universe was thrill'd with love, +Whereby, there are who deem, the world hath oft +Been into chaos turn'd: and in that point, +Here, and elsewhere, that old rock toppled down. +But fix thine eyes beneath: the river of blood +Approaches, in the which all those are steep'd, +Who have by violence injur'd." O blind lust! +O foolish wrath! who so dost goad us on +In the brief life, and in the eternal then +Thus miserably o'erwhelm us. I beheld +An ample foss, that in a bow was bent, +As circling all the plain; for so my guide +Had told. Between it and the rampart's base +On trail ran Centaurs, with keen arrows arm'd, +As to the chase they on the earth were wont. + At seeing us descend they each one stood; +And issuing from the troop, three sped with bows +And missile weapons chosen first; of whom +One cried from far: "Say to what pain ye come +Condemn'd, who down this steep have journied? Speak +From whence ye stand, or else the bow I draw." + To whom my guide: "Our answer shall be made +To Chiron, there, when nearer him we come. +Ill was thy mind, thus ever quick and rash." + Then me he touch'd, and spake: "Nessus is this, +Who for the fair Deianira died, +And wrought himself revenge for his own fate. +He in the midst, that on his breast looks down, +Is the great Chiron who Achilles nurs'd; +That other Pholus, prone to wrath." Around +The foss these go by thousands, aiming shafts +At whatsoever spirit dares emerge +From out the blood, more than his guilt allows. + We to those beasts, that rapid strode along, +Drew near, when Chiron took an arrow forth, +And with the notch push'd back his shaggy beard +To the cheek-bone, then his great mouth to view +Exposing, to his fellows thus exclaim'd: +"Are ye aware, that he who comes behind +Moves what he touches? The feet of the dead +Are not so wont." My trusty guide, who now +Stood near his breast, where the two natures join, +Thus made reply: "He is indeed alive, +And solitary so must needs by me +Be shown the gloomy vale, thereto induc'd +By strict necessity, not by delight. +She left her joyful harpings in the sky, +Who this new office to my care consign'd. +He is no robber, no dark spirit I. +But by that virtue, which empowers my step +To treat so wild a path, grant us, I pray, +One of thy band, whom we may trust secure, +Who to the ford may lead us, and convey +Across, him mounted on his back; for he +Is not a spirit that may walk the air." + Then on his right breast turning, Chiron thus +To Nessus spake: "Return, and be their guide. +And if ye chance to cross another troop, +Command them keep aloof." Onward we mov'd, +The faithful escort by our side, along +The border of the crimson-seething flood, +Whence from those steep'd within loud shrieks arose. + Some there I mark'd, as high as to their brow +Immers'd, of whom the mighty Centaur thus: +"These are the souls of tyrants, who were given +To blood and rapine. Here they wail aloud +Their merciless wrongs. Here Alexander dwells, +And Dionysius fell, who many a year +Of woe wrought for fair Sicily. That brow +Whereon the hair so jetty clust'ring hangs, +Is Azzolino; that with flaxen locks +Obizzo' of Este, in the world destroy'd +By his foul step-son." To the bard rever'd +I turned me round, and thus he spake; "Let him +Be to thee now first leader, me but next +To him in rank." Then farther on a space +The Centaur paus'd, near some, who at the throat +Were extant from the wave; and showing us +A spirit by itself apart retir'd, +Exclaim'd: "He in God's bosom smote the heart, +Which yet is honour'd on the bank of Thames." + A race I next espied, who held the head, +And even all the bust above the stream. +'Midst these I many a face remember'd well. +Thus shallow more and more the blood became, +So that at last it but imbru'd the feet; +And there our passage lay athwart the foss. + "As ever on this side the boiling wave +Thou seest diminishing," the Centaur said, +"So on the other, be thou well assur'd, +It lower still and lower sinks its bed, +Till in that part it reuniting join, +Where 't is the lot of tyranny to mourn. +There Heav'n's stern justice lays chastising hand +On Attila, who was the scourge of earth, +On Sextus, and on Pyrrhus, and extracts +Tears ever by the seething flood unlock'd +From the Rinieri, of Corneto this, +Pazzo the other nam'd, who fill'd the ways +With violence and war." This said, he turn'd, +And quitting us, alone repass'd the ford. + + + +CANTO XIII + +ERE Nessus yet had reach'd the other bank, +We enter'd on a forest, where no track +Of steps had worn a way. Not verdant there +The foliage, but of dusky hue; not light +The boughs and tapering, but with knares deform'd +And matted thick: fruits there were none, but thorns +Instead, with venom fill'd. Less sharp than these, +Less intricate the brakes, wherein abide +Those animals, that hate the cultur'd fields, +Betwixt Corneto and Cecina's stream. + Here the brute Harpies make their nest, the same +Who from the Strophades the Trojan band +Drove with dire boding of their future woe. +Broad are their pennons, of the human form +Their neck and count'nance, arm'd with talons keen +The feet, and the huge belly fledge with wings +These sit and wail on the drear mystic wood. + The kind instructor in these words began: +"Ere farther thou proceed, know thou art now +I' th' second round, and shalt be, till thou come +Upon the horrid sand: look therefore well +Around thee, and such things thou shalt behold, +As would my speech discredit." On all sides +I heard sad plainings breathe, and none could see +From whom they might have issu'd. In amaze +Fast bound I stood. He, as it seem'd, believ'd, +That I had thought so many voices came +From some amid those thickets close conceal'd, +And thus his speech resum'd: "If thou lop off +A single twig from one of those ill plants, +The thought thou hast conceiv'd shall vanish quite." + Thereat a little stretching forth my hand, +From a great wilding gather'd I a branch, +And straight the trunk exclaim'd: "Why pluck'st thou me?" +Then as the dark blood trickled down its side, +These words it added: "Wherefore tear'st me thus? +Is there no touch of mercy in thy breast? +Men once were we, that now are rooted here. +Thy hand might well have spar'd us, had we been +The souls of serpents." As a brand yet green, +That burning at one end from the' other sends +A groaning sound, and hisses with the wind +That forces out its way, so burst at once, +Forth from the broken splinter words and blood. + I, letting fall the bough, remain'd as one +Assail'd by terror, and the sage replied: +"If he, O injur'd spirit! could have believ'd +What he hath seen but in my verse describ'd, +He never against thee had stretch'd his hand. +But I, because the thing surpass'd belief, +Prompted him to this deed, which even now +Myself I rue. But tell me, who thou wast; +That, for this wrong to do thee some amends, +In the upper world (for thither to return +Is granted him) thy fame he may revive." + "That pleasant word of thine," the trunk replied +"Hath so inveigled me, that I from speech +Cannot refrain, wherein if I indulge +A little longer, in the snare detain'd, +Count it not grievous. I it was, who held +Both keys to Frederick's heart, and turn'd the wards, +Opening and shutting, with a skill so sweet, +That besides me, into his inmost breast +Scarce any other could admittance find. +The faith I bore to my high charge was such, +It cost me the life-blood that warm'd my veins. +The harlot, who ne'er turn'd her gloating eyes +From Caesar's household, common vice and pest +Of courts, 'gainst me inflam'd the minds of all; +And to Augustus they so spread the flame, +That my glad honours chang'd to bitter woes. +My soul, disdainful and disgusted, sought +Refuge in death from scorn, and I became, +Just as I was, unjust toward myself. +By the new roots, which fix this stem, I swear, +That never faith I broke to my liege lord, +Who merited such honour; and of you, +If any to the world indeed return, +Clear he from wrong my memory, that lies +Yet prostrate under envy's cruel blow." + First somewhat pausing, till the mournful words +Were ended, then to me the bard began: +"Lose not the time; but speak and of him ask, +If more thou wish to learn." Whence I replied: +"Question thou him again of whatsoe'er +Will, as thou think'st, content me; for no power +Have I to ask, such pity' is at my heart." + He thus resum'd; "So may he do for thee +Freely what thou entreatest, as thou yet +Be pleas'd, imprison'd Spirit! to declare, +How in these gnarled joints the soul is tied; +And whether any ever from such frame +Be loosen'd, if thou canst, that also tell." + Thereat the trunk breath'd hard, and the wind soon +Chang'd into sounds articulate like these; + Briefly ye shall be answer'd. When departs +The fierce soul from the body, by itself +Thence torn asunder, to the seventh gulf +By Minos doom'd, into the wood it falls, +No place assign'd, but wheresoever chance +Hurls it, there sprouting, as a grain of spelt, +It rises to a sapling, growing thence +A savage plant. The Harpies, on its leaves +Then feeding, cause both pain and for the pain +A vent to grief. We, as the rest, shall come +For our own spoils, yet not so that with them +We may again be clad; for what a man +Takes from himself it is not just he have. +Here we perforce shall drag them; and throughout +The dismal glade our bodies shall be hung, +Each on the wild thorn of his wretched shade." + Attentive yet to listen to the trunk +We stood, expecting farther speech, when us +A noise surpris'd, as when a man perceives +The wild boar and the hunt approach his place +Of station'd watch, who of the beasts and boughs +Loud rustling round him hears. And lo! there came +Two naked, torn with briers, in headlong flight, +That they before them broke each fan o' th' wood. +"Haste now," the foremost cried, "now haste thee death!" +The' other, as seem'd, impatient of delay +Exclaiming, "Lano! not so bent for speed +Thy sinews, in the lists of Toppo's field." +And then, for that perchance no longer breath +Suffic'd him, of himself and of a bush +One group he made. Behind them was the wood +Full of black female mastiffs, gaunt and fleet, +As greyhounds that have newly slipp'd the leash. +On him, who squatted down, they stuck their fangs, +And having rent him piecemeal bore away +The tortur'd limbs. My guide then seiz'd my hand, +And led me to the thicket, which in vain +Mourn'd through its bleeding wounds: "O Giacomo +Of Sant' Andrea! what avails it thee," +It cried, "that of me thou hast made thy screen? +For thy ill life what blame on me recoils?" + When o'er it he had paus'd, my master spake: +"Say who wast thou, that at so many points +Breath'st out with blood thy lamentable speech?" + He answer'd: "Oh, ye spirits: arriv'd in time +To spy the shameful havoc, that from me +My leaves hath sever'd thus, gather them up, +And at the foot of their sad parent-tree +Carefully lay them. In that city' I dwelt, +Who for the Baptist her first patron chang'd, +Whence he for this shall cease not with his art +To work her woe: and if there still remain'd not +On Arno's passage some faint glimpse of him, +Those citizens, who rear'd once more her walls +Upon the ashes left by Attila, +Had labour'd without profit of their toil. +I slung the fatal noose from my own roof." + + + +CANTO XIV + +SOON as the charity of native land +Wrought in my bosom, I the scatter'd leaves +Collected, and to him restor'd, who now +Was hoarse with utt'rance. To the limit thence +We came, which from the third the second round +Divides, and where of justice is display'd +Contrivance horrible. Things then first seen +Clearlier to manifest, I tell how next +A plain we reach'd, that from its sterile bed +Each plant repell'd. The mournful wood waves round +Its garland on all sides, as round the wood +Spreads the sad foss. There, on the very edge, +Our steps we stay'd. It was an area wide +Of arid sand and thick, resembling most +The soil that erst by Cato's foot was trod. + Vengeance of Heav'n! Oh ! how shouldst thou be fear'd +By all, who read what here my eyes beheld! + Of naked spirits many a flock I saw, +All weeping piteously, to different laws +Subjected: for on the' earth some lay supine, +Some crouching close were seated, others pac'd +Incessantly around; the latter tribe, +More numerous, those fewer who beneath +The torment lay, but louder in their grief. + O'er all the sand fell slowly wafting down +Dilated flakes of fire, as flakes of snow +On Alpine summit, when the wind is hush'd. +As in the torrid Indian clime, the son +Of Ammon saw upon his warrior band +Descending, solid flames, that to the ground +Came down: whence he bethought him with his troop +To trample on the soil; for easier thus +The vapour was extinguish'd, while alone; +So fell the eternal fiery flood, wherewith +The marble glow'd underneath, as under stove +The viands, doubly to augment the pain. +Unceasing was the play of wretched hands, +Now this, now that way glancing, to shake off +The heat, still falling fresh. I thus began: +"Instructor! thou who all things overcom'st, +Except the hardy demons, that rush'd forth +To stop our entrance at the gate, say who +Is yon huge spirit, that, as seems, heeds not +The burning, but lies writhen in proud scorn, +As by the sultry tempest immatur'd?" + Straight he himself, who was aware I ask'd +My guide of him, exclaim'd: "Such as I was +When living, dead such now I am. If Jove +Weary his workman out, from whom in ire +He snatch'd the lightnings, that at my last day +Transfix'd me, if the rest be weary out +At their black smithy labouring by turns +In Mongibello, while he cries aloud; +"Help, help, good Mulciber!" as erst he cried +In the Phlegraean warfare, and the bolts +Launch he full aim'd at me with all his might, +He never should enjoy a sweet revenge." + Then thus my guide, in accent higher rais'd +Than I before had heard him: "Capaneus! +Thou art more punish'd, in that this thy pride +Lives yet unquench'd: no torrent, save thy rage, +Were to thy fury pain proportion'd full." + Next turning round to me with milder lip +He spake: "This of the seven kings was one, +Who girt the Theban walls with siege, and held, +As still he seems to hold, God in disdain, +And sets his high omnipotence at nought. +But, as I told him, his despiteful mood +Is ornament well suits the breast that wears it. +Follow me now; and look thou set not yet +Thy foot in the hot sand, but to the wood +Keep ever close." Silently on we pass'd +To where there gushes from the forest's bound +A little brook, whose crimson'd wave yet lifts +My hair with horror. As the rill, that runs +From Bulicame, to be portion'd out +Among the sinful women; so ran this +Down through the sand, its bottom and each bank +Stone-built, and either margin at its side, +Whereon I straight perceiv'd our passage lay. + "Of all that I have shown thee, since that gate +We enter'd first, whose threshold is to none +Denied, nought else so worthy of regard, +As is this river, has thine eye discern'd, +O'er which the flaming volley all is quench'd." + So spake my guide; and I him thence besought, +That having giv'n me appetite to know, +The food he too would give, that hunger crav'd. + "In midst of ocean," forthwith he began, +"A desolate country lies, which Crete is nam'd, +Under whose monarch in old times the world +Liv'd pure and chaste. A mountain rises there, +Call'd Ida, joyous once with leaves and streams, +Deserted now like a forbidden thing. +It was the spot which Rhea, Saturn's spouse, +Chose for the secret cradle of her son; +And better to conceal him, drown'd in shouts +His infant cries. Within the mount, upright +An ancient form there stands and huge, that turns +His shoulders towards Damiata, and at Rome +As in his mirror looks. Of finest gold +His head is shap'd, pure silver are the breast +And arms; thence to the middle is of brass. +And downward all beneath well-temper'd steel, +Save the right foot of potter's clay, on which +Than on the other more erect he stands, +Each part except the gold, is rent throughout; +And from the fissure tears distil, which join'd +Penetrate to that cave. They in their course +Thus far precipitated down the rock +Form Acheron, and Styx, and Phlegethon; +Then by this straiten'd channel passing hence +Beneath, e'en to the lowest depth of all, +Form there Cocytus, of whose lake (thyself +Shall see it) I here give thee no account." + Then I to him: "If from our world this sluice +Be thus deriv'd; wherefore to us but now +Appears it at this edge?" He straight replied: +"The place, thou know'st, is round; and though great part +Thou have already pass'd, still to the left +Descending to the nethermost, not yet +Hast thou the circuit made of the whole orb. +Wherefore if aught of new to us appear, +It needs not bring up wonder in thy looks." + Then I again inquir'd: "Where flow the streams +Of Phlegethon and Lethe? for of one +Thou tell'st not, and the other of that shower, +Thou say'st, is form'd." He answer thus return'd: +"Doubtless thy questions all well pleas'd I hear. +Yet the red seething wave might have resolv'd +One thou proposest. Lethe thou shalt see, +But not within this hollow, in the place, +Whither to lave themselves the spirits go, +Whose blame hath been by penitence remov'd." +He added: "Time is now we quit the wood. +Look thou my steps pursue: the margins give +Safe passage, unimpeded by the flames; +For over them all vapour is extinct." + + + +CANTO XV + +One of the solid margins bears us now +Envelop'd in the mist, that from the stream +Arising, hovers o'er, and saves from fire +Both piers and water. As the Flemings rear +Their mound, 'twixt Ghent and Bruges, to chase back +The ocean, fearing his tumultuous tide +That drives toward them, or the Paduans theirs +Along the Brenta, to defend their towns +And castles, ere the genial warmth be felt +On Chiarentana's top; such were the mounds, +So fram'd, though not in height or bulk to these +Made equal, by the master, whosoe'er +He was, that rais'd them here. We from the wood +Were not so far remov'd, that turning round +I might not have discern'd it, when we met +A troop of spirits, who came beside the pier. + They each one ey'd us, as at eventide +One eyes another under a new moon, +And toward us sharpen'd their sight as keen, +As an old tailor at his needle's eye. + Thus narrowly explor'd by all the tribe, +I was agniz'd of one, who by the skirt +Caught me, and cried, "What wonder have we here!" + And I, when he to me outstretch'd his arm, +Intently fix'd my ken on his parch'd looks, +That although smirch'd with fire, they hinder'd not +But I remember'd him; and towards his face +My hand inclining, answer'd: "Sir! Brunetto! +And art thou here?" He thus to me: "My son! +Oh let it not displease thee, if Brunetto +Latini but a little space with thee +Turn back, and leave his fellows to proceed." + I thus to him replied: "Much as I can, +I thereto pray thee; and if thou be willing, +That I here seat me with thee, I consent; +His leave, with whom I journey, first obtain'd." + "O son!" said he, " whoever of this throng +One instant stops, lies then a hundred years, +No fan to ventilate him, when the fire +Smites sorest. Pass thou therefore on. I close +Will at thy garments walk, and then rejoin +My troop, who go mourning their endless doom." + I dar'd not from the path descend to tread +On equal ground with him, but held my head +Bent down, as one who walks in reverent guise. + "What chance or destiny," thus be began, +"Ere the last day conducts thee here below? +And who is this, that shows to thee the way?" + "There up aloft," I answer'd, "in the life +Serene, I wander'd in a valley lost, +Before mine age had to its fullness reach'd. +But yester-morn I left it: then once more +Into that vale returning, him I met; +And by this path homeward he leads me back." + "If thou," he answer'd, "follow but thy star, +Thou canst not miss at last a glorious haven: +Unless in fairer days my judgment err'd. +And if my fate so early had not chanc'd, +Seeing the heav'ns thus bounteous to thee, I +Had gladly giv'n thee comfort in thy work. +But that ungrateful and malignant race, +Who in old times came down from Fesole, +Ay and still smack of their rough mountain-flint, +Will for thy good deeds shew thee enmity. +Nor wonder; for amongst ill-savour'd crabs +It suits not the sweet fig-tree lay her fruit. +Old fame reports them in the world for blind, +Covetous, envious, proud. Look to it well: +Take heed thou cleanse thee of their ways. For thee +Thy fortune hath such honour in reserve, +That thou by either party shalt be crav'd +With hunger keen: but be the fresh herb far +From the goat's tooth. The herd of Fesole +May of themselves make litter, not touch the plant, +If any such yet spring on their rank bed, +In which the holy seed revives, transmitted +From those true Romans, who still there remain'd, +When it was made the nest of so much ill." + "Were all my wish fulfill'd," I straight replied, +"Thou from the confines of man's nature yet +Hadst not been driven forth; for in my mind +Is fix'd, and now strikes full upon my heart +The dear, benign, paternal image, such +As thine was, when so lately thou didst teach me +The way for man to win eternity; +And how I priz'd the lesson, it behooves, +That, long as life endures, my tongue should speak, +What of my fate thou tell'st, that write I down: +And with another text to comment on +For her I keep it, the celestial dame, +Who will know all, if I to her arrive. +This only would I have thee clearly note: +That so my conscience have no plea against me; +Do fortune as she list, I stand prepar'd. +Not new or strange such earnest to mine ear. +Speed fortune then her wheel, as likes her best, +The clown his mattock; all things have their course." + Thereat my sapient guide upon his right +Turn'd himself back, then look'd at me and spake: +"He listens to good purpose who takes note." + I not the less still on my way proceed, +Discoursing with Brunetto, and inquire +Who are most known and chief among his tribe. + "To know of some is well;" thus he replied, +"But of the rest silence may best beseem. +Time would not serve us for report so long. +In brief I tell thee, that all these were clerks, +Men of great learning and no less renown, +By one same sin polluted in the world. +With them is Priscian, and Accorso's son +Francesco herds among that wretched throng: +And, if the wish of so impure a blotch +Possess'd thee, him thou also might'st have seen, +Who by the servants' servant was transferr'd +From Arno's seat to Bacchiglione, where +His ill-strain'd nerves he left. I more would add, +But must from farther speech and onward way +Alike desist, for yonder I behold +A mist new-risen on the sandy plain. +A company, with whom I may not sort, +Approaches. I commend my TREASURE to thee, +Wherein I yet survive; my sole request." + This said he turn'd, and seem'd as one of those, +Who o'er Verona's champain try their speed +For the green mantle, and of them he seem'd, +Not he who loses but who gains the prize. + + + +CANTO XVI + +NOW came I where the water's din was heard, +As down it fell into the other round, +Resounding like the hum of swarming bees: +When forth together issu'd from a troop, +That pass'd beneath the fierce tormenting storm, +Three spirits, running swift. They towards us came, +And each one cried aloud, "Oh do thou stay! +Whom by the fashion of thy garb we deem +To be some inmate of our evil land." + Ah me! what wounds I mark'd upon their limbs, +Recent and old, inflicted by the flames! +E'en the remembrance of them grieves me yet. + Attentive to their cry my teacher paus'd, +And turn'd to me his visage, and then spake; +"Wait now! our courtesy these merit well: +And were 't not for the nature of the place, +Whence glide the fiery darts, I should have said, +That haste had better suited thee than them.'' + They, when we stopp'd, resum'd their ancient wail, +And soon as they had reach'd us, all the three +Whirl'd round together in one restless wheel. +As naked champions, smear'd with slippery oil, +Are wont intent to watch their place of hold +And vantage, ere in closer strife they meet; +Thus each one, as he wheel'd, his countenance +At me directed, so that opposite +The neck mov'd ever to the twinkling feet. + "If misery of this drear wilderness," +Thus one began, "added to our sad cheer +And destitute, do call forth scorn on us +And our entreaties, let our great renown +Incline thee to inform us who thou art, +That dost imprint with living feet unharm'd +The soil of Hell. He, in whose track thou see'st +My steps pursuing, naked though he be +And reft of all, was of more high estate +Than thou believest; grandchild of the chaste +Gualdrada, him they Guidoguerra call'd, +Who in his lifetime many a noble act +Achiev'd, both by his wisdom and his sword. +The other, next to me that beats the sand, +Is Aldobrandi, name deserving well, +In the' upper world, of honour; and myself +Who in this torment do partake with them, +Am Rusticucci, whom, past doubt, my wife +Of savage temper, more than aught beside +Hath to this evil brought." If from the fire +I had been shelter'd, down amidst them straight +I then had cast me, nor my guide, I deem, +Would have restrain'd my going; but that fear +Of the dire burning vanquish'd the desire, +Which made me eager of their wish'd embrace. + I then began: "Not scorn, but grief much more, +Such as long time alone can cure, your doom +Fix'd deep within me, soon as this my lord +Spake words, whose tenour taught me to expect +That such a race, as ye are, was at hand. +I am a countryman of yours, who still +Affectionate have utter'd, and have heard +Your deeds and names renown'd. Leaving the gall +For the sweet fruit I go, that a sure guide +Hath promis'd to me. But behooves, that far +As to the centre first I downward tend." + "So may long space thy spirit guide thy limbs," +He answer straight return'd; "and so thy fame +Shine bright, when thou art gone; as thou shalt tell, +If courtesy and valour, as they wont, +Dwell in our city, or have vanish'd clean? +For one amidst us late condemn'd to wail, +Borsiere, yonder walking with his peers, +Grieves us no little by the news he brings." + "An upstart multitude and sudden gains, +Pride and excess, O Florence! have in thee +Engender'd, so that now in tears thou mourn'st!" +Thus cried I with my face uprais'd, and they +All three, who for an answer took my words, +Look'd at each other, as men look when truth +Comes to their ear. "If thou at other times," +They all at once rejoin'd, "so easily +Satisfy those, who question, happy thou, +Gifted with words, so apt to speak thy thought! +Wherefore if thou escape this darksome clime, +Returning to behold the radiant stars, +When thou with pleasure shalt retrace the past, +See that of us thou speak among mankind." + This said, they broke the circle, and so swift +Fled, that as pinions seem'd their nimble feet. + Not in so short a time might one have said +"Amen," as they had vanish'd. Straight my guide +Pursu'd his track. I follow'd; and small space +Had we pass'd onward, when the water's sound +Was now so near at hand, that we had scarce +Heard one another's speech for the loud din. + E'en as the river, that holds on its course +Unmingled, from the mount of Vesulo, +On the left side of Apennine, toward +The east, which Acquacheta higher up +They call, ere it descend into the vale, +At Forli by that name no longer known, +Rebellows o'er Saint Benedict, roll'd on +From the' Alpine summit down a precipice, +Where space enough to lodge a thousand spreads; +Thus downward from a craggy steep we found, +That this dark wave resounded, roaring loud, +So that the ear its clamour soon had stunn'd. + I had a cord that brac'd my girdle round, +Wherewith I erst had thought fast bound to take +The painted leopard. This when I had all +Unloosen'd from me (so my master bade) +I gather'd up, and stretch'd it forth to him. +Then to the right he turn'd, and from the brink +Standing few paces distant, cast it down +Into the deep abyss. "And somewhat strange," +Thus to myself I spake, "signal so strange +Betokens, which my guide with earnest eye +Thus follows." Ah! what caution must men use +With those who look not at the deed alone, +But spy into the thoughts with subtle skill! + "Quickly shall come," he said, "what I expect, +Thine eye discover quickly, that whereof +Thy thought is dreaming." Ever to that truth, +Which but the semblance of a falsehood wears, +A man, if possible, should bar his lip; +Since, although blameless, he incurs reproach. +But silence here were vain; and by these notes +Which now I sing, reader! I swear to thee, +So may they favour find to latest times! +That through the gross and murky air I spied +A shape come swimming up, that might have quell'd +The stoutest heart with wonder, in such guise +As one returns, who hath been down to loose +An anchor grappled fast against some rock, +Or to aught else that in the salt wave lies, +Who upward springing close draws in his feet. + + + +CANTO XVII + +"LO! the fell monster with the deadly sting! +Who passes mountains, breaks through fenced walls +And firm embattled spears, and with his filth +Taints all the world!" Thus me my guide address'd, +And beckon'd him, that he should come to shore, +Near to the stony causeway's utmost edge. + Forthwith that image vile of fraud appear'd, +His head and upper part expos'd on land, +But laid not on the shore his bestial train. +His face the semblance of a just man's wore, +So kind and gracious was its outward cheer; +The rest was serpent all: two shaggy claws +Reach'd to the armpits, and the back and breast, +And either side, were painted o'er with nodes +And orbits. Colours variegated more +Nor Turks nor Tartars e'er on cloth of state +With interchangeable embroidery wove, +Nor spread Arachne o'er her curious loom. +As ofttimes a light skiff, moor'd to the shore, +Stands part in water, part upon the land; +Or, as where dwells the greedy German boor, +The beaver settles watching for his prey; +So on the rim, that fenc'd the sand with rock, +Sat perch'd the fiend of evil. In the void +Glancing, his tail upturn'd its venomous fork, +With sting like scorpion's arm'd. Then thus my guide: +"Now need our way must turn few steps apart, +Far as to that ill beast, who couches there." + Thereat toward the right our downward course +We shap'd, and, better to escape the flame +And burning marle, ten paces on the verge +Proceeded. Soon as we to him arrive, +A little further on mine eye beholds +A tribe of spirits, seated on the sand +Near the wide chasm. Forthwith my master spake: +"That to the full thy knowledge may extend +Of all this round contains, go now, and mark +The mien these wear: but hold not long discourse. +Till thou returnest, I with him meantime +Will parley, that to us he may vouchsafe +The aid of his strong shoulders." Thus alone +Yet forward on the' extremity I pac'd +Of that seventh circle, where the mournful tribe +Were seated. At the eyes forth gush'd their pangs. +Against the vapours and the torrid soil +Alternately their shifting hands they plied. +Thus use the dogs in summer still to ply +Their jaws and feet by turns, when bitten sore +By gnats, or flies, or gadflies swarming round. + Noting the visages of some, who lay +Beneath the pelting of that dolorous fire, +One of them all I knew not; but perceiv'd, +That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch +With colours and with emblems various mark'd, +On which it seem'd as if their eye did feed. + And when amongst them looking round I came, +A yellow purse I saw with azure wrought, +That wore a lion's countenance and port. +Then still my sight pursuing its career, +Another I beheld, than blood more red. +A goose display of whiter wing than curd. +And one, who bore a fat and azure swine +Pictur'd on his white scrip, addressed me thus: +"What dost thou in this deep? Go now and know, +Since yet thou livest, that my neighbour here +Vitaliano on my left shall sit. +A Paduan with these Florentines am I. +Ofttimes they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming +"O haste that noble knight! he who the pouch +With the three beaks will bring!" This said, he writh'd +The mouth, and loll'd the tongue out, like an ox +That licks his nostrils. I, lest longer stay +He ill might brook, who bade me stay not long, +Backward my steps from those sad spirits turn'd. + My guide already seated on the haunch +Of the fierce animal I found; and thus +He me encourag'd. "Be thou stout; be bold. +Down such a steep flight must we now descend! +Mount thou before: for that no power the tail +May have to harm thee, I will be i' th' midst." + As one, who hath an ague fit so near, +His nails already are turn'd blue, and he +Quivers all o'er, if he but eye the shade; +Such was my cheer at hearing of his words. +But shame soon interpos'd her threat, who makes +The servant bold in presence of his lord. + I settled me upon those shoulders huge, +And would have said, but that the words to aid +My purpose came not, "Look thou clasp me firm!" + But he whose succour then not first I prov'd, +Soon as I mounted, in his arms aloft, +Embracing, held me up, and thus he spake: +"Geryon! now move thee! be thy wheeling gyres +Of ample circuit, easy thy descent. +Think on th' unusual burden thou sustain'st." + As a small vessel, back'ning out from land, +Her station quits; so thence the monster loos'd, +And when he felt himself at large, turn'd round +There where the breast had been, his forked tail. +Thus, like an eel, outstretch'd at length he steer'd, +Gath'ring the air up with retractile claws. + Not greater was the dread when Phaeton +The reins let drop at random, whence high heaven, +Whereof signs yet appear, was wrapt in flames; +Nor when ill-fated Icarus perceiv'd, +By liquefaction of the scalded wax, +The trusted pennons loosen'd from his loins, +His sire exclaiming loud, "Ill way thou keep'st!" +Than was my dread, when round me on each part +The air I view'd, and other object none +Save the fell beast. He slowly sailing, wheels +His downward motion, unobserv'd of me, +But that the wind, arising to my face, +Breathes on me from below. Now on our right +I heard the cataract beneath us leap +With hideous crash; whence bending down to' explore, +New terror I conceiv'd at the steep plunge: +For flames I saw, and wailings smote mine ear: +So that all trembling close I crouch'd my limbs, +And then distinguish'd, unperceiv'd before, +By the dread torments that on every side +Drew nearer, how our downward course we wound. + As falcon, that hath long been on the wing, +But lure nor bird hath seen, while in despair +The falconer cries, "Ah me! thou stoop'st to earth!" +Wearied descends, and swiftly down the sky +In many an orbit wheels, then lighting sits +At distance from his lord in angry mood; +So Geryon lighting places us on foot +Low down at base of the deep-furrow'd rock, +And, of his burden there discharg'd, forthwith +Sprang forward, like an arrow from the string. + + + +CANTO XVIII + +THERE is a place within the depths of hell +Call'd Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain'd +With hue ferruginous, e'en as the steep +That round it circling winds. Right in the midst +Of that abominable region, yawns +A spacious gulf profound, whereof the frame +Due time shall tell. The circle, that remains, +Throughout its round, between the gulf and base +Of the high craggy banks, successive forms +Ten trenches, in its hollow bottom sunk. + As where to guard the walls, full many a foss +Begirds some stately castle, sure defence +Affording to the space within, so here +Were model'd these; and as like fortresses +E'en from their threshold to the brink without, +Are flank'd with bridges; from the rock's low base +Thus flinty paths advanc'd, that 'cross the moles +And dikes, struck onward far as to the gulf, +That in one bound collected cuts them off. +Such was the place, wherein we found ourselves +From Geryon's back dislodg'd. The bard to left +Held on his way, and I behind him mov'd. + On our right hand new misery I saw, +New pains, new executioners of wrath, +That swarming peopled the first chasm. Below +Were naked sinners. Hitherward they came, +Meeting our faces from the middle point, +With us beyond but with a larger stride. +E'en thus the Romans, when the year returns +Of Jubilee, with better speed to rid +The thronging multitudes, their means devise +For such as pass the bridge; that on one side +All front toward the castle, and approach +Saint Peter's fane, on th' other towards the mount. + Each divers way along the grisly rock, +Horn'd demons I beheld, with lashes huge, +That on their back unmercifully smote. +Ah! how they made them bound at the first stripe! +None for the second waited nor the third. + Meantime as on I pass'd, one met my sight +Whom soon as view'd; "Of him," cried I, "not yet +Mine eye hath had his fill." With fixed gaze +I therefore scann'd him. Straight the teacher kind +Paus'd with me, and consented I should walk +Backward a space, and the tormented spirit, +Who thought to hide him, bent his visage down. +But it avail'd him nought; for I exclaim'd: +"Thou who dost cast thy eye upon the ground, +Unless thy features do belie thee much, +Venedico art thou. But what brings thee +Into this bitter seas'ning? " He replied: +"Unwillingly I answer to thy words. +But thy clear speech, that to my mind recalls +The world I once inhabited, constrains me. +Know then 'twas I who led fair Ghisola +To do the Marquis' will, however fame +The shameful tale have bruited. Nor alone +Bologna hither sendeth me to mourn +Rather with us the place is so o'erthrong'd +That not so many tongues this day are taught, +Betwixt the Reno and Savena's stream, +To answer SIPA in their country's phrase. +And if of that securer proof thou need, +Remember but our craving thirst for gold." + Him speaking thus, a demon with his thong +Struck, and exclaim'd, "Away! corrupter! here +Women are none for sale." Forthwith I join'd +My escort, and few paces thence we came +To where a rock forth issued from the bank. +That easily ascended, to the right +Upon its splinter turning, we depart +From those eternal barriers. When arriv'd, +Where underneath the gaping arch lets pass +The scourged souls: "Pause here," the teacher said, +"And let these others miserable, now +Strike on thy ken, faces not yet beheld, +For that together they with us have walk'd." + From the old bridge we ey'd the pack, who came +From th' other side towards us, like the rest, +Excoriate from the lash. My gentle guide, +By me unquestion'd, thus his speech resum'd: +"Behold that lofty shade, who this way tends, +And seems too woe-begone to drop a tear. +How yet the regal aspect he retains! +Jason is he, whose skill and prowess won +The ram from Colchos. To the Lemnian isle +His passage thither led him, when those bold +And pitiless women had slain all their males. +There he with tokens and fair witching words +Hypsipyle beguil'd, a virgin young, +Who first had all the rest herself beguil'd. +Impregnated he left her there forlorn. +Such is the guilt condemns him to this pain. +Here too Medea's inj'ries are avenged. +All bear him company, who like deceit +To his have practis'd. And thus much to know +Of the first vale suffice thee, and of those +Whom its keen torments urge." Now had we come +Where, crossing the next pier, the straighten'd path +Bestrides its shoulders to another arch. + Hence in the second chasm we heard the ghosts, +Who jibber in low melancholy sounds, +With wide-stretch'd nostrils snort, and on themselves +Smite with their palms. Upon the banks a scurf +From the foul steam condens'd, encrusting hung, +That held sharp combat with the sight and smell. + So hollow is the depth, that from no part, +Save on the summit of the rocky span, +Could I distinguish aught. Thus far we came; +And thence I saw, within the foss below, +A crowd immers'd in ordure, that appear'd +Draff of the human body. There beneath +Searching with eye inquisitive, I mark'd +One with his head so grim'd, 't were hard to deem, +If he were clerk or layman. Loud he cried: +"Why greedily thus bendest more on me, +Than on these other filthy ones, thy ken?" + "Because if true my mem'ry," I replied, +"I heretofore have seen thee with dry locks, +And thou Alessio art of Lucca sprung. +Therefore than all the rest I scan thee more." + Then beating on his brain these words he spake: +"Me thus low down my flatteries have sunk, +Wherewith I ne'er enough could glut my tongue." + My leader thus: "A little further stretch +Thy face, that thou the visage well mayst note +Of that besotted, sluttish courtezan, +Who there doth rend her with defiled nails, +Now crouching down, now risen on her feet. +Thais is this, the harlot, whose false lip +Answer'd her doting paramour that ask'd, +'Thankest me much!'--'Say rather wondrously,' +And seeing this here satiate be our view." + + + +CANTO XIX + +WOE to thee, Simon Magus! woe to you, +His wretched followers! who the things of God, +Which should be wedded unto goodness, them, +Rapacious as ye are, do prostitute +For gold and silver in adultery! +Now must the trumpet sound for you, since yours +Is the third chasm. Upon the following vault +We now had mounted, where the rock impends +Directly o'er the centre of the foss. + Wisdom Supreme! how wonderful the art, +Which thou dost manifest in heaven, in earth, +And in the evil world, how just a meed +Allotting by thy virtue unto all! + I saw the livid stone, throughout the sides +And in its bottom full of apertures, +All equal in their width, and circular each, +Nor ample less nor larger they appear'd +Than in Saint John's fair dome of me belov'd +Those fram'd to hold the pure baptismal streams, +One of the which I brake, some few years past, +To save a whelming infant; and be this +A seal to undeceive whoever doubts +The motive of my deed. From out the mouth +Of every one, emerg'd a sinner's feet +And of the legs high upward as the calf +The rest beneath was hid. On either foot +The soles were burning, whence the flexile joints +Glanc'd with such violent motion, as had snapt +Asunder cords or twisted withs. As flame, +Feeding on unctuous matter, glides along +The surface, scarcely touching where it moves; +So here, from heel to point, glided the flames. + "Master! say who is he, than all the rest +Glancing in fiercer agony, on whom +A ruddier flame doth prey?" I thus inquir'd. + "If thou be willing," he replied, "that I +Carry thee down, where least the slope bank falls, +He of himself shall tell thee and his wrongs." + I then: "As pleases thee to me is best. +Thou art my lord; and know'st that ne'er I quit +Thy will: what silence hides that knowest thou." +Thereat on the fourth pier we came, we turn'd, +And on our left descended to the depth, +A narrow strait and perforated close. +Nor from his side my leader set me down, +Till to his orifice he brought, whose limb +Quiv'ring express'd his pang. "Whoe'er thou art, +Sad spirit! thus revers'd, and as a stake +Driv'n in the soil!" I in these words began, +"If thou be able, utter forth thy voice." + There stood I like the friar, that doth shrive +A wretch for murder doom'd, who e'en when fix'd, +Calleth him back, whence death awhile delays. + He shouted: "Ha! already standest there? +Already standest there, O Boniface! +By many a year the writing play'd me false. +So early dost thou surfeit with the wealth, +For which thou fearedst not in guile to take +The lovely lady, and then mangle her?" + I felt as those who, piercing not the drift +Of answer made them, stand as if expos'd +In mockery, nor know what to reply, +When Virgil thus admonish'd: "Tell him quick, +I am not he, not he, whom thou believ'st." + And I, as was enjoin'd me, straight replied. + That heard, the spirit all did wrench his feet, +And sighing next in woeful accent spake: +"What then of me requirest?" If to know +So much imports thee, who I am, that thou +Hast therefore down the bank descended, learn +That in the mighty mantle I was rob'd, +And of a she-bear was indeed the son, +So eager to advance my whelps, that there +My having in my purse above I stow'd, +And here myself. Under my head are dragg'd +The rest, my predecessors in the guilt +Of simony. Stretch'd at their length they lie +Along an opening in the rock. 'Midst them +I also low shall fall, soon as he comes, +For whom I took thee, when so hastily +I question'd. But already longer time +Hath pass'd, since my souls kindled, and I thus +Upturn'd have stood, than is his doom to stand +Planted with fiery feet. For after him, +One yet of deeds more ugly shall arrive, +From forth the west, a shepherd without law, +Fated to cover both his form and mine. +He a new Jason shall be call'd, of whom +In Maccabees we read; and favour such +As to that priest his king indulgent show'd, +Shall be of France's monarch shown to him." + I know not if I here too far presum'd, +But in this strain I answer'd: "Tell me now, +What treasures from St. Peter at the first +Our Lord demanded, when he put the keys +Into his charge? Surely he ask'd no more +But, Follow me! Nor Peter nor the rest +Or gold or silver of Matthias took, +When lots were cast upon the forfeit place +Of the condemned soul. Abide thou then; +Thy punishment of right is merited: +And look thou well to that ill-gotten coin, +Which against Charles thy hardihood inspir'd. +If reverence of the keys restrain'd me not, +Which thou in happier time didst hold, I yet +Severer speech might use. Your avarice +O'ercasts the world with mourning, under foot +Treading the good, and raising bad men up. +Of shepherds, like to you, th' Evangelist +Was ware, when her, who sits upon the waves, +With kings in filthy whoredom he beheld, +She who with seven heads tower'd at her birth, +And from ten horns her proof of glory drew, +Long as her spouse in virtue took delight. +Of gold and silver ye have made your god, +Diff'ring wherein from the idolater, +But he that worships one, a hundred ye? +Ah, Constantine! to how much ill gave birth, +Not thy conversion, but that plenteous dower, +Which the first wealthy Father gain'd from thee!" + Meanwhile, as thus I sung, he, whether wrath +Or conscience smote him, violent upsprang +Spinning on either sole. I do believe +My teacher well was pleas'd, with so compos'd +A lip, he listen'd ever to the sound +Of the true words I utter'd. In both arms +He caught, and to his bosom lifting me +Upward retrac'd the way of his descent. + Nor weary of his weight he press'd me close, +Till to the summit of the rock we came, +Our passage from the fourth to the fifth pier. +His cherish'd burden there gently he plac'd +Upon the rugged rock and steep, a path +Not easy for the clamb'ring goat to mount. + Thence to my view another vale appear'd + + + +CANTO XX + +AND now the verse proceeds to torments new, +Fit argument of this the twentieth strain +Of the first song, whose awful theme records +The spirits whelm'd in woe. Earnest I look'd +Into the depth, that open'd to my view, +Moisten'd with tears of anguish, and beheld +A tribe, that came along the hollow vale, +In silence weeping: such their step as walk +Quires chanting solemn litanies on earth. + As on them more direct mine eye descends, +Each wondrously seem'd to be revers'd +At the neck-bone, so that the countenance +Was from the reins averted: and because +None might before him look, they were compell'd +To' advance with backward gait. Thus one perhaps +Hath been by force of palsy clean transpos'd, +But I ne'er saw it nor believe it so. + Now, reader! think within thyself, so God +Fruit of thy reading give thee! how I long +Could keep my visage dry, when I beheld +Near me our form distorted in such guise, +That on the hinder parts fall'n from the face +The tears down-streaming roll'd. Against a rock +I leant and wept, so that my guide exclaim'd: +"What, and art thou too witless as the rest? +Here pity most doth show herself alive, +When she is dead. What guilt exceedeth his, +Who with Heaven's judgment in his passion strives? +Raise up thy head, raise up, and see the man, +Before whose eyes earth gap'd in Thebes, when all +Cried out, 'Amphiaraus, whither rushest? +'Why leavest thou the war?' He not the less +Fell ruining far as to Minos down, +Whose grapple none eludes. Lo! how he makes +The breast his shoulders, and who once too far +Before him wish'd to see, now backward looks, +And treads reverse his path. Tiresias note, +Who semblance chang'd, when woman he became +Of male, through every limb transform'd, and then +Once more behov'd him with his rod to strike +The two entwining serpents, ere the plumes, +That mark'd the better sex, might shoot again. + "Aruns, with rere his belly facing, comes. +On Luni's mountains 'midst the marbles white, +Where delves Carrara's hind, who wons beneath, +A cavern was his dwelling, whence the stars +And main-sea wide in boundless view he held. + "The next, whose loosen'd tresses overspread +Her bosom, which thou seest not (for each hair +On that side grows) was Manto, she who search'd +Through many regions, and at length her seat +Fix'd in my native land, whence a short space +My words detain thy audience. When her sire +From life departed, and in servitude +The city dedicate to Bacchus mourn'd, +Long time she went a wand'rer through the world. +Aloft in Italy's delightful land +A lake there lies, at foot of that proud Alp, +That o'er the Tyrol locks Germania in, +Its name Benacus, which a thousand rills, +Methinks, and more, water between the vale +Camonica and Garda and the height +Of Apennine remote. There is a spot +At midway of that lake, where he who bears +Of Trento's flock the past'ral staff, with him +Of Brescia, and the Veronese, might each +Passing that way his benediction give. +A garrison of goodly site and strong +Peschiera stands, to awe with front oppos'd +The Bergamese and Brescian, whence the shore +More slope each way descends. There, whatsoev'er +Benacus' bosom holds not, tumbling o'er +Down falls, and winds a river flood beneath +Through the green pastures. Soon as in his course +The steam makes head, Benacus then no more +They call the name, but Mincius, till at last +Reaching Governo into Po he falls. +Not far his course hath run, when a wide flat +It finds, which overstretchmg as a marsh +It covers, pestilent in summer oft. +Hence journeying, the savage maiden saw +'Midst of the fen a territory waste +And naked of inhabitants. To shun +All human converse, here she with her slaves +Plying her arts remain'd, and liv'd, and left +Her body tenantless. Thenceforth the tribes, +Who round were scatter'd, gath'ring to that place +Assembled; for its strength was great, enclos'd +On all parts by the fen. On those dead bones +They rear'd themselves a city, for her sake, +Calling it Mantua, who first chose the spot, +Nor ask'd another omen for the name, +Wherein more numerous the people dwelt, +Ere Casalodi's madness by deceit +Was wrong'd of Pinamonte. If thou hear +Henceforth another origin assign'd +Of that my country, I forewarn thee now, +That falsehood none beguile thee of the truth." + I answer'd: "Teacher, I conclude thy words +So certain, that all else shall be to me +As embers lacking life. But now of these, +Who here proceed, instruct me, if thou see +Any that merit more especial note. +For thereon is my mind alone intent." + He straight replied: "That spirit, from whose cheek +The beard sweeps o'er his shoulders brown, what time +Graecia was emptied of her males, that scarce +The cradles were supplied, the seer was he +In Aulis, who with Calchas gave the sign +When first to cut the cable. Him they nam'd +Eurypilus: so sings my tragic strain, +In which majestic measure well thou know'st, +Who know'st it all. That other, round the loins +So slender of his shape, was Michael Scot, +Practis'd in ev'ry slight of magic wile. + "Guido Bonatti see: Asdente mark, +Who now were willing, he had tended still +The thread and cordwain; and too late repents. + "See next the wretches, who the needle left, +The shuttle and the spindle, and became +Diviners: baneful witcheries they wrought +With images and herbs. But onward now: +For now doth Cain with fork of thorns confine +On either hemisphere, touching the wave +Beneath the towers of Seville. Yesternight +The moon was round. Thou mayst remember well: +For she good service did thee in the gloom +Of the deep wood." This said, both onward mov'd. + + + +CANTO XXI + +THUS we from bridge to bridge, with other talk, +The which my drama cares not to rehearse, +Pass'd on; and to the summit reaching, stood +To view another gap, within the round +Of Malebolge, other bootless pangs. + Marvelous darkness shadow'd o'er the place. + In the Venetians' arsenal as boils +Through wintry months tenacious pitch, to smear +Their unsound vessels; for th' inclement time +Sea-faring men restrains, and in that while +His bark one builds anew, another stops +The ribs of his, that hath made many a voyage; +One hammers at the prow, one at the poop; +This shapeth oars, that other cables twirls, +The mizen one repairs and main-sail rent +So not by force of fire but art divine +Boil'd here a glutinous thick mass, that round +Lim'd all the shore beneath. I that beheld, +But therein nought distinguish'd, save the surge, +Rais'd by the boiling, in one mighty swell +Heave, and by turns subsiding and fall. While there +I fix'd my ken below, "Mark! mark!" my guide +Exclaiming, drew me towards him from the place, +Wherein I stood. I turn'd myself as one, +Impatient to behold that which beheld +He needs must shun, whom sudden fear unmans, +That he his flight delays not for the view. +Behind me I discern'd a devil black, +That running, up advanc'd along the rock. +Ah! what fierce cruelty his look bespake! +In act how bitter did he seem, with wings +Buoyant outstretch'd and feet of nimblest tread! +His shoulder proudly eminent and sharp +Was with a sinner charg'd; by either haunch +He held him, the foot's sinew griping fast. + "Ye of our bridge!" he cried, "keen-talon'd fiends! +Lo! one of Santa Zita's elders! Him +Whelm ye beneath, while I return for more. +That land hath store of such. All men are there, +Except Bonturo, barterers: of 'no' +For lucre there an 'aye' is quickly made." + Him dashing down, o'er the rough rock he turn'd, +Nor ever after thief a mastiff loos'd +Sped with like eager haste. That other sank +And forthwith writing to the surface rose. +But those dark demons, shrouded by the bridge, +Cried "Here the hallow'd visage saves not: here +Is other swimming than in Serchio's wave. +Wherefore if thou desire we rend thee not, +Take heed thou mount not o'er the pitch." This said, +They grappled him with more than hundred hooks, +And shouted: "Cover'd thou must sport thee here; +So, if thou canst, in secret mayst thou filch." +E'en thus the cook bestirs him, with his grooms, +To thrust the flesh into the caldron down +With flesh-hooks, that it float not on the top. + Me then my guide bespake: "Lest they descry, +That thou art here, behind a craggy rock +Bend low and screen thee; and whate'er of force +Be offer'd me, or insult, fear thou not: +For I am well advis'd, who have been erst +In the like fray." Beyond the bridge's head +Therewith he pass'd, and reaching the sixth pier, +Behov'd him then a forehead terror-proof. + With storm and fury, as when dogs rush forth +Upon the poor man's back, who suddenly +From whence he standeth makes his suit; so rush'd +Those from beneath the arch, and against him +Their weapons all they pointed. He aloud: +"Be none of you outrageous: ere your time +Dare seize me, come forth from amongst you one, +Who having heard my words, decide he then +If he shall tear these limbs." They shouted loud, +"Go, Malacoda!" Whereat one advanc'd, +The others standing firm, and as he came, +"What may this turn avail him?" he exclaim'd. + "Believ'st thou, Malacoda! I had come +Thus far from all your skirmishing secure," +My teacher answered, "without will divine +And destiny propitious? Pass we then +For so Heaven's pleasure is, that I should lead +Another through this savage wilderness." + Forthwith so fell his pride, that he let drop +The instrument of torture at his feet, +And to the rest exclaim'd: "We have no power +To strike him." Then to me my guide: "O thou! +Who on the bridge among the crags dost sit +Low crouching, safely now to me return." + I rose, and towards him moved with speed: the fiends +Meantime all forward drew: me terror seiz'd +Lest they should break the compact they had made. +Thus issuing from Caprona, once I saw +Th' infantry dreading, lest his covenant +The foe should break; so close he hemm'd them round. + I to my leader's side adher'd, mine eyes +With fixt and motionless observance bent +On their unkindly visage. They their hooks +Protruding, one the other thus bespake: +"Wilt thou I touch him on the hip?" To whom +Was answer'd: "Even so; nor miss thy aim." + But he, who was in conf'rence with my guide, +Turn'd rapid round, and thus the demon spake: +"Stay, stay thee, Scarmiglione!" Then to us +He added: "Further footing to your step +This rock affords not, shiver'd to the base +Of the sixth arch. But would you still proceed, +Up by this cavern go: not distant far, +Another rock will yield you passage safe. +Yesterday, later by five hours than now, +Twelve hundred threescore years and six had fill'd +The circuit of their course, since here the way +Was broken. Thitherward I straight dispatch +Certain of these my scouts, who shall espy +If any on the surface bask. With them +Go ye: for ye shall find them nothing fell. +Come Alichino forth," with that he cried, +"And Calcabrina, and Cagnazzo thou! +The troop of ten let Barbariccia lead. +With Libicocco Draghinazzo haste, +Fang'd Ciriatto, Grafflacane fierce, +And Farfarello, and mad Rubicant. +Search ye around the bubbling tar. For these, +In safety lead them, where the other crag +Uninterrupted traverses the dens." + I then: "O master! what a sight is there! +Ah! without escort, journey we alone, +Which, if thou know the way, I covet not. +Unless thy prudence fail thee, dost not mark +How they do gnarl upon us, and their scowl +Threatens us present tortures?" He replied: +"I charge thee fear not: let them, as they will, +Gnarl on: 't is but in token of their spite +Against the souls, who mourn in torment steep'd." + To leftward o'er the pier they turn'd; but each +Had first between his teeth prest close the tongue, +Toward their leader for a signal looking, +Which he with sound obscene triumphant gave. + + + +CANTO XXII + +IT hath been heretofore my chance to see +Horsemen with martial order shifting camp, +To onset sallying, or in muster rang'd, +Or in retreat sometimes outstretch'd for flight; +Light-armed squadrons and fleet foragers +Scouring thy plains, Arezzo! have I seen, +And clashing tournaments, and tilting jousts, +Now with the sound of trumpets, now of bells, +Tabors, or signals made from castled heights, +And with inventions multiform, our own, +Or introduc'd from foreign land; but ne'er +To such a strange recorder I beheld, +In evolution moving, horse nor foot, +Nor ship, that tack'd by sign from land or star. + With the ten demons on our way we went; +Ah fearful company! but in the church +With saints, with gluttons at the tavern's mess. + Still earnest on the pitch I gaz'd, to mark +All things whate'er the chasm contain'd, and those +Who burn'd within. As dolphins, that, in sign +To mariners, heave high their arched backs, +That thence forewarn'd they may advise to save +Their threaten'd vessels; so, at intervals, +To ease the pain his back some sinner show'd, +Then hid more nimbly than the lightning glance. + E'en as the frogs, that of a wat'ry moat +Stand at the brink, with the jaws only out, +Their feet and of the trunk all else concealed, +Thus on each part the sinners stood, but soon +As Barbariccia was at hand, so they +Drew back under the wave. I saw, and yet +My heart doth stagger, one, that waited thus, +As it befalls that oft one frog remains, +While the next springs away: and Graffiacan, +Who of the fiends was nearest, grappling seiz'd +His clotted locks, and dragg'd him sprawling up, +That he appear'd to me an otter. Each +Already by their names I knew, so well +When they were chosen, I observ'd, and mark'd +How one the other call'd. "O Rubicant! +See that his hide thou with thy talons flay," +Shouted together all the cursed crew. + Then I: "Inform thee, master! if thou may, +What wretched soul is this, on whom their hand +His foes have laid." My leader to his side +Approach'd, and whence he came inquir'd, to whom +Was answer'd thus: "Born in Navarre's domain +My mother plac'd me in a lord's retinue, +For she had borne me to a losel vile, +A spendthrift of his substance and himself. +The good king Thibault after that I serv'd, +To peculating here my thoughts were turn'd, +Whereof I give account in this dire heat." + Straight Ciriatto, from whose mouth a tusk +Issued on either side, as from a boar, +Ript him with one of these. 'Twixt evil claws +The mouse had fall'n: but Barbariccia cried, +Seizing him with both arms: "Stand thou apart, +While I do fix him on my prong transpierc'd." +Then added, turning to my guide his face, +"Inquire of him, if more thou wish to learn, +Ere he again be rent." My leader thus: +"Then tell us of the partners in thy guilt; +Knowest thou any sprung of Latian land +Under the tar?"--"I parted," he replied, +"But now from one, who sojourn'd not far thence; +So were I under shelter now with him! +Nor hook nor talon then should scare me more."--. + "Too long we suffer," Libicocco cried, +Then, darting forth a prong, seiz'd on his arm, +And mangled bore away the sinewy part. +Him Draghinazzo by his thighs beneath +Would next have caught, whence angrily their chief, +Turning on all sides round, with threat'ning brow +Restrain'd them. When their strife a little ceas'd, +Of him, who yet was gazing on his wound, +My teacher thus without delay inquir'd: +"Who was the spirit, from whom by evil hap +Parting, as thou has told, thou cam'st to shore?"-- + "It was the friar Gomita," he rejoin'd, +"He of Gallura, vessel of all guile, +Who had his master's enemies in hand, +And us'd them so that they commend him well. +Money he took, and them at large dismiss'd. +So he reports: and in each other charge +Committed to his keeping, play'd the part +Of barterer to the height: with him doth herd +The chief of Logodoro, Michel Zanche. +Sardinia is a theme, whereof their tongue +Is never weary. Out! alas! behold +That other, how he grins! More would I say, +But tremble lest he mean to maul me sore." + Their captain then to Farfarello turning, +Who roll'd his moony eyes in act to strike, +Rebuk'd him thus: "Off! cursed bird! Avaunt!"-- + "If ye desire to see or hear," he thus +Quaking with dread resum'd, "or Tuscan spirits +Or Lombard, I will cause them to appear. +Meantime let these ill talons bate their fury, +So that no vengeance they may fear from them, +And I, remaining in this self-same place, +Will for myself but one, make sev'n appear, +When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for so +Our custom is to call each other up." + Cagnazzo at that word deriding grinn'd, +Then wagg'd the head and spake: "Hear his device, +Mischievous as he is, to plunge him down." + Whereto he thus, who fail'd not in rich store +Of nice-wove toils; " Mischief forsooth extreme, +Meant only to procure myself more woe!" + No longer Alichino then refrain'd, +But thus, the rest gainsaying, him bespake: +"If thou do cast thee down, I not on foot +Will chase thee, but above the pitch will beat +My plumes. Quit we the vantage ground, and let +The bank be as a shield, that we may see +If singly thou prevail against us all." + Now, reader, of new sport expect to hear! + They each one turn'd his eyes to the' other shore, +He first, who was the hardest to persuade. +The spirit of Navarre chose well his time, +Planted his feet on land, and at one leap +Escaping disappointed their resolve. + Them quick resentment stung, but him the most, +Who was the cause of failure; in pursuit +He therefore sped, exclaiming; "Thou art caught." + But little it avail'd: terror outstripp'd +His following flight: the other plung'd beneath, +And he with upward pinion rais'd his breast: +E'en thus the water-fowl, when she perceives +The falcon near, dives instant down, while he +Enrag'd and spent retires. That mockery +In Calcabrina fury stirr'd, who flew +After him, with desire of strife inflam'd; +And, for the barterer had 'scap'd, so turn'd +His talons on his comrade. O'er the dyke +In grapple close they join'd; but the' other prov'd +A goshawk able to rend well his foe; +And in the boiling lake both fell. The heat +Was umpire soon between them, but in vain +To lift themselves they strove, so fast were glued +Their pennons. Barbariccia, as the rest, +That chance lamenting, four in flight dispatch'd +From the' other coast, with all their weapons arm'd. +They, to their post on each side speedily +Descending, stretch'd their hooks toward the fiends, +Who flounder'd, inly burning from their scars: +And we departing left them to that broil. + + + +CANTO XXIII + +IN silence and in solitude we went, +One first, the other following his steps, +As minor friars journeying on their road. + The present fray had turn'd my thoughts to muse +Upon old Aesop's fable, where he told +What fate unto the mouse and frog befell. +For language hath not sounds more like in sense, +Than are these chances, if the origin +And end of each be heedfully compar'd. +And as one thought bursts from another forth, +So afterward from that another sprang, +Which added doubly to my former fear. +For thus I reason'd: "These through us have been +So foil'd, with loss and mock'ry so complete, +As needs must sting them sore. If anger then +Be to their evil will conjoin'd, more fell +They shall pursue us, than the savage hound +Snatches the leveret, panting 'twixt his jaws." + Already I perceiv'd my hair stand all +On end with terror, and look'd eager back. + "Teacher," I thus began, "if speedily +Thyself and me thou hide not, much I dread +Those evil talons. Even now behind +They urge us: quick imagination works +So forcibly, that I already feel them.'' + He answer'd: "Were I form'd of leaded glass, +I should not sooner draw unto myself +Thy outward image, than I now imprint +That from within. This moment came thy thoughts +Presented before mine, with similar act +And count'nance similar, so that from both +I one design have fram'd. If the right coast +Incline so much, that we may thence descend +Into the other chasm, we shall escape +Secure from this imagined pursuit." + He had not spoke his purpose to the end, +When I from far beheld them with spread wings +Approach to take us. Suddenly my guide +Caught me, ev'n as a mother that from sleep +Is by the noise arous'd, and near her sees +The climbing fires, who snatches up her babe +And flies ne'er pausing, careful more of him +Than of herself, that but a single vest +Clings round her limbs. Down from the jutting beach +Supine he cast him, to that pendent rock, +Which closes on one part the other chasm. + Never ran water with such hurrying pace +Adown the tube to turn a landmill's wheel, +When nearest it approaches to the spokes, +As then along that edge my master ran, +Carrying me in his bosom, as a child, +Not a companion. Scarcely had his feet +Reach'd to the lowest of the bed beneath, +When over us the steep they reach'd; but fear +In him was none; for that high Providence, +Which plac'd them ministers of the fifth foss, +Power of departing thence took from them all. + There in the depth we saw a painted tribe, +Who pac'd with tardy steps around, and wept, +Faint in appearance and o'ercome with toil. +Caps had they on, with hoods, that fell low down +Before their eyes, in fashion like to those +Worn by the monks in Cologne. Their outside +Was overlaid with gold, dazzling to view, +But leaden all within, and of such weight, +That Frederick's compar'd to these were straw. +Oh, everlasting wearisome attire! + We yet once more with them together turn'd +To leftward, on their dismal moan intent. +But by the weight oppress'd, so slowly came +The fainting people, that our company +Was chang'd at every movement of the step. + Whence I my guide address'd: "See that thou find +Some spirit, whose name may by his deeds be known, +And to that end look round thee as thou go'st." + Then one, who understood the Tuscan voice, +Cried after us aloud: "Hold in your feet, +Ye who so swiftly speed through the dusk air. +Perchance from me thou shalt obtain thy wish." + Whereat my leader, turning, me bespake: +"Pause, and then onward at their pace proceed." + I staid, and saw two Spirits in whose look +Impatient eagerness of mind was mark'd +To overtake me; but the load they bare +And narrow path retarded their approach. + Soon as arriv'd, they with an eye askance +Perus'd me, but spake not: then turning each +To other thus conferring said: "This one +Seems, by the action of his throat, alive. +And, be they dead, what privilege allows +They walk unmantled by the cumbrous stole?" + Then thus to me: "Tuscan, who visitest +The college of the mourning hypocrites, +Disdain not to instruct us who thou art." + "By Arno's pleasant stream," I thus replied, +"In the great city I was bred and grew, +And wear the body I have ever worn. +but who are ye, from whom such mighty grief, +As now I witness, courseth down your cheeks? +What torment breaks forth in this bitter woe?" +"Our bonnets gleaming bright with orange hue," +One of them answer'd, "are so leaden gross, +That with their weight they make the balances +To crack beneath them. Joyous friars we were, +Bologna's natives, Catalano I, +He Loderingo nam'd, and by thy land +Together taken, as men used to take +A single and indifferent arbiter, +To reconcile their strifes. How there we sped, +Gardingo's vicinage can best declare." + "O friars!" I began, "your miseries--" +But there brake off, for one had caught my eye, +Fix'd to a cross with three stakes on the ground: +He, when he saw me, writh'd himself, throughout +Distorted, ruffling with deep sighs his beard. +And Catalano, who thereof was 'ware, +Thus spake: "That pierced spirit, whom intent +Thou view'st, was he who gave the Pharisees +Counsel, that it were fitting for one man +To suffer for the people. He doth lie +Transverse; nor any passes, but him first +Behoves make feeling trial how each weighs. +In straits like this along the foss are plac'd +The father of his consort, and the rest +Partakers in that council, seed of ill +And sorrow to the Jews." I noted then, +How Virgil gaz'd with wonder upon him, +Thus abjectly extended on the cross +In banishment eternal. To the friar +He next his words address'd: "We pray ye tell, +If so be lawful, whether on our right +Lies any opening in the rock, whereby +We both may issue hence, without constraint +On the dark angels, that compell'd they come +To lead us from this depth." He thus replied: +"Nearer than thou dost hope, there is a rock +From the next circle moving, which o'ersteps +Each vale of horror, save that here his cope +Is shatter'd. By the ruin ye may mount: +For on the side it slants, and most the height +Rises below." With head bent down awhile +My leader stood, then spake: "He warn'd us ill, +Who yonder hangs the sinners on his hook." + To whom the friar: At Bologna erst +I many vices of the devil heard, +Among the rest was said, 'He is a liar, +And the father of lies!'" When he had spoke, +My leader with large strides proceeded on, +Somewhat disturb'd with anger in his look. + I therefore left the spirits heavy laden, +And following, his beloved footsteps mark'd. + + + +CANTO XXIV + +IN the year's early nonage, when the sun +Tempers his tresses in Aquarius' urn, +And now towards equal day the nights recede, +When as 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 chang'd its count'nance, 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 cur'd; for at the fallen bridge +Arriving, towards 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 open'd wide his arm +And took me up. As one, who, while he works, +Computes his labour'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 capp'd with lead +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 of our descent we reach'd +From the last flag: soon as to that arriv'd, +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'er consumes his days +Leaveth such vestige of himself on earth, +As smoke in air or foam upon the wave. +Thou therefore rise: vanish 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 escap'd sufficeth not. +If well thou note me, profit by my words." + I straightway rose, and show'd myself less spent +Than 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 ceas'd not, as we journey'd, so to seem +Least faint; whereat a voice from the other foss +Did issue forth, for utt'rance suited ill. +Though on the arch that crosses there I stood, +What were the words I knew not, but who spake +Seem'd mov'd 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 Lybia vaunt no more: if Jaculus, +Pareas and Chelyder be her brood, +Cenchris and Amphisboena, plagues so dire +Or in such numbers swarming ne'er she shew'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, +Transpierc'd him. Far more quickly than e'er pen +Wrote O or I, he kindled, burn'd, and chang'd +To ashes, all pour'd out upon the earth. +When there dissolv'd 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 endur'd, 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 inquir'd, and thus in few +He answer'd: "Vanni Fucci am I call'd, +Not long since rained down from Tuscany +To this dire gullet. Me the beastial life +And not the human pleas'd, mule that I was, +Who in Pistoia found my worthy den." + I then to Virgil: "Bid him stir not hence, +And ask what crime did thrust him hither: once +A man I knew him choleric and bloody." + The sinner heard and feign'd not, but towards me +His mind directing and his face, wherein +Was dismal shame depictur'd, 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 pines, +Then Florence changeth citizens and laws. +From Valdimagra, drawn by wrathful Mars, +A vapour 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." + + + +CANTO XXV + +WHEN he had spoke, the sinner rais'd his hands +Pointed in mockery, and cried: "Take them, God! +I level them at thee!" From that day forth +The serpents were my friends; for round his neck +One of then rolling twisted, as it said, +"Be silent, tongue!" Another to his arms +Upgliding, tied them, riveting itself +So close, it took from them the power to move. + Pistoia! Ah Pistoia! why dost doubt +To turn thee into ashes, cumb'ring earth +No longer, since in evil act so far +Thou hast outdone thy seed? I did not mark, +Through all the gloomy circles of the' abyss, +Spirit, that swell'd so proudly 'gainst his God, +Not him, who headlong fell from Thebes. He fled, +Nor utter'd more; and after him there came +A centaur full of fury, shouting, "Where +Where is the caitiff?" On Maremma's marsh +Swarm not the serpent tribe, as on his haunch +They swarm'd, to where the human face begins. +Behind his head upon the shoulders lay, +With open wings, a dragon breathing fire +On whomsoe'er he met. To me my guide: +"Cacus is this, who underneath the rock +Of Aventine spread oft a lake of blood. +He, from his brethren parted, here must tread +A different journey, for his fraudful theft +Of the great herd, that near him stall'd; whence found +His felon deeds their end, beneath the mace +Of stout Alcides, that perchance laid on +A hundred blows, and not the tenth was felt." + While yet he spake, the centaur sped away: +And under us three spirits came, of whom +Nor I nor he was ware, till they exclaim'd; +"Say who are ye?" We then brake off discourse, +Intent on these alone. I knew them not; +But, as it chanceth oft, befell, that one +Had need to name another. "Where," said he, +"Doth Cianfa lurk?" I, for a sign my guide +Should stand attentive, plac'd against my lips +The finger lifted. If, O reader! now +Thou be not apt to credit what I tell, +No marvel; for myself do scarce allow +The witness of mine eyes. But as I looked +Toward them, lo! a serpent with six feet +Springs forth on one, and fastens full upon him: +His midmost grasp'd the belly, a forefoot +Seiz'd on each arm (while deep in either cheek +He flesh'd his fangs); the hinder on the thighs +Were spread, 'twixt which the tail inserted curl'd +Upon the reins behind. Ivy ne'er clasp'd +A dodder'd oak, as round the other's limbs +The hideous monster intertwin'd his own. +Then, as they both had been of burning wax, +Each melted into other, mingling hues, +That which was either now was seen no more. +Thus up the shrinking paper, ere it burns, +A brown tint glides, not turning yet to black, +And the clean white expires. The other two +Look'd on exclaiming: "Ah, how dost thou change, +Agnello! See! Thou art nor double now, +Nor only one." The two heads now became +One, and two figures blended in one form +Appear'd, where both were lost. Of the four lengths +Two arms were made: the belly and the chest +The thighs and legs into such members chang'd, +As never eye hath seen. Of former shape +All trace was vanish'd. Two yet neither seem'd +That image miscreate, and so pass'd on +With tardy steps. As underneath the scourge +Of the fierce dog-star, that lays bare the fields, +Shifting from brake to brake, the lizard seems +A flash of lightning, if he thwart the road, +So toward th' entrails of the other two +Approaching seem'd, an adder all on fire, +As the dark pepper-grain, livid and swart. +In that part, whence our life is nourish'd first, +One he transpierc'd; then down before him fell +Stretch'd out. The pierced spirit look'd on him +But spake not; yea stood motionless and yawn'd, +As if by sleep or fev'rous fit assail'd. +He ey'd the serpent, and the serpent him. +One from the wound, the other from the mouth +Breath'd a thick smoke, whose vap'ry columns join'd. + Lucan in mute attention now may hear, +Nor thy disastrous fate, Sabellus! tell, +Nor shine, Nasidius! Ovid now be mute. +What if in warbling fiction he record +Cadmus and Arethusa, to a snake +Him chang'd, and her into a fountain clear, +I envy not; for never face to face +Two natures thus transmuted did he sing, +Wherein both shapes were ready to assume +The other's substance. They in mutual guise +So answer'd, that the serpent split his train +Divided to a fork, and the pierc'd spirit +Drew close his steps together, legs and thighs +Compacted, that no sign of juncture soon +Was visible: the tail disparted took +The figure which the spirit lost, its skin +Soft'ning, his indurated to a rind. +The shoulders next I mark'd, that ent'ring join'd +The monster's arm-pits, whose two shorter feet +So lengthen'd, as the other's dwindling shrunk. +The feet behind then twisting up became +That part that man conceals, which in the wretch +Was cleft in twain. While both the shadowy smoke +With a new colour veils, and generates +Th' excrescent pile on one, peeling it off +From th' other body, lo! upon his feet +One upright rose, and prone the other fell. +Not yet their glaring and malignant lamps +Were shifted, though each feature chang'd beneath. +Of him who stood erect, the mounting face +Retreated towards the temples, and what there +Superfluous matter came, shot out in ears +From the smooth cheeks, the rest, not backward dragg'd, +Of its excess did shape the nose; and swell'd +Into due size protuberant the lips. +He, on the earth who lay, meanwhile extends +His sharpen'd visage, and draws down the ears +Into the head, as doth the slug his horns. +His tongue continuous before and apt +For utt'rance, severs; and the other's fork +Closing unites. That done the smoke was laid. +The soul, transform'd into the brute, glides off, +Hissing along the vale, and after him +The other talking sputters; but soon turn'd +His new-grown shoulders on him, and in few +Thus to another spake: "Along this path +Crawling, as I have done, speed Buoso now!" + So saw I fluctuate in successive change +Th' unsteady ballast of the seventh hold: +And here if aught my tongue have swerv'd, events +So strange may be its warrant. O'er mine eyes +Confusion hung, and on my thoughts amaze. + Yet 'scap'd they not so covertly, but well +I mark'd Sciancato: he alone it was +Of the three first that came, who chang'd not: thou, +The other's fate, Gaville, still dost rue. + + + +CANTO XXVI + +FLORENCE exult! for thou so mightily +Hast thriven, that o'er land and sea thy wings +Thou beatest, and thy name spreads over hell! +Among the plund'rers such the three I found +Thy citizens, whence shame to me thy son, +And no proud honour to thyself redounds. + But if our minds, when dreaming near the dawn, +Are of the truth presageful, thou ere long +Shalt feel what Prato, (not to say the rest) +Would fain might come upon thee; and that chance +Were in good time, if it befell thee now. +Would so it were, since it must needs befall! +For as time wears me, I shall grieve the more. + We from the depth departed; and my guide +Remounting scal'd the flinty steps, which late +We downward trac'd, and drew me up the steep. +Pursuing thus our solitary way +Among the crags and splinters of the rock, +Sped not our feet without the help of hands. + Then sorrow seiz'd me, which e'en now revives, +As my thought turns again to what I saw, +And, more than I am wont, I rein and curb +The powers of nature in me, lest they run +Where Virtue guides not; that if aught of good +My gentle star, or something better gave me, +I envy not myself the precious boon. + As in that season, when the sun least veils +His face that lightens all, what time the fly +Gives way to the shrill gnat, the peasant then +Upon some cliff reclin'd, beneath him sees +Fire-flies innumerous spangling o'er the vale, +Vineyard or tilth, where his day-labour lies: +With flames so numberless throughout its space +Shone the eighth chasm, apparent, when the depth +Was to my view expos'd. As he, whose wrongs +The bears aveng'd, at its departure saw +Elijah's chariot, when the steeds erect +Rais'd their steep flight for heav'n; his eyes meanwhile, +Straining pursu'd them, till the flame alone +Upsoaring like a misty speck he kenn'd; +E'en thus along the gulf moves every flame, +A sinner so enfolded close in each, +That none exhibits token of the theft. + Upon the bridge I forward bent to look, +And grasp'd a flinty mass, or else had fall'n, +Though push'd not from the height. The guide, who mark d +How I did gaze attentive, thus began: +"Within these ardours are the spirits, each +Swath'd in confining fire."--"Master, thy word," +I answer'd, "hath assur'd me; yet I deem'd +Already of the truth, already wish'd +To ask thee, who is in yon fire, that comes +So parted at the summit, as it seem'd +Ascending from that funeral pile, where lay +The Theban brothers?" He replied: "Within +Ulysses there and Diomede endure +Their penal tortures, thus to vengeance now +Together hasting, as erewhile to wrath. +These in the flame with ceaseless groans deplore +The ambush of the horse, that open'd wide +A portal for that goodly seed to pass, +Which sow'd imperial Rome; nor less the guile +Lament they, whence of her Achilles 'reft +Deidamia yet in death complains. +And there is rued the stratagem, that Troy +Of her Palladium spoil'd."--"If they have power +Of utt'rance from within these sparks," said I, +"O master! think my prayer a thousand fold +In repetition urg'd, that thou vouchsafe +To pause, till here the horned flame arrive. +See, how toward it with desire I bend." + He thus: "Thy prayer is worthy of much praise, +And I accept it therefore: but do thou +Thy tongue refrain: to question them be mine, +For I divine thy wish: and they perchance, +For they were Greeks, might shun discourse with thee." + When there the flame had come, where time and place +Seem'd fitting to my guide, he thus began: +"O ye, who dwell two spirits in one fire! +If living I of you did merit aught, +Whate'er the measure were of that desert, +When in the world my lofty strain I pour'd, +Move ye not on, till one of you unfold +In what clime death o'ertook him self-destroy'd." + Of the old flame forthwith the greater horn +Began to roll, murmuring, as a fire +That labours with the wind, then to and fro +Wagging the top, as a tongue uttering sounds, +Threw out its voice, and spake: "When I escap'd +From Circe, who beyond a circling year +Had held me near Caieta, by her charms, +Ere thus Aeneas yet had nam'd the shore, +Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence +Of my old father, nor return of love, +That should have crown'd Penelope with joy, +Could overcome in me the zeal I had +T' explore the world, and search the ways of life, +Man's evil and his virtue. Forth I sail'd +Into the deep illimitable main, +With but one bark, and the small faithful band +That yet cleav'd to me. As Iberia far, +Far as Morocco either shore I saw, +And the Sardinian and each isle beside +Which round that ocean bathes. Tardy with age +Were I and my companions, when we came +To the strait pass, where Hercules ordain'd +The bound'ries not to be o'erstepp'd by man. +The walls of Seville to my right I left, +On the' other hand already Ceuta past. +"O brothers!" I began, "who to the west +Through perils without number now have reach'd, +To this the short remaining watch, that yet +Our senses have to wake, refuse not proof +Of the unpeopled world, following the track +Of Phoebus. Call to mind from whence we sprang: +Ye were not form'd to live the life of brutes +But virtue to pursue and knowledge high. +With these few words I sharpen'd for the voyage +The mind of my associates, that I then +Could scarcely have withheld them. To the dawn +Our poop we turn'd, and for the witless flight +Made our oars wings, still gaining on the left. +Each star of the' other pole night now beheld, +And ours so low, that from the ocean-floor +It rose not. Five times re-illum'd, as oft +Vanish'd the light from underneath the moon +Since the deep way we enter'd, when from far +Appear'd a mountain dim, loftiest methought +Of all I e'er beheld. Joy seiz'd us straight, +But soon to mourning changed. From the new land +A whirlwind sprung, and at her foremost side +Did strike the vessel. Thrice it whirl'd her round +With all the waves, the fourth time lifted up +The poop, and sank the prow: so fate decreed: +And over us the booming billow clos'd." + + + +CANTO XXVII + +NOW upward rose the flame, and still'd its light +To speak no more, and now pass'd on with leave +From the mild poet gain'd, when following came +Another, from whose top a sound confus'd, +Forth issuing, drew our eyes that way to look. + As the Sicilian bull, that rightfully +His cries first echoed, who had shap'd its mould, +Did so rebellow, with the voice of him +Tormented, that the brazen monster seem'd +Pierc'd through with pain; thus while no way they found +Nor avenue immediate through the flame, +Into its language turn'd the dismal words: +But soon as they had won their passage forth, +Up from the point, which vibrating obey'd +Their motion at the tongue, these sounds we heard: +"O thou! to whom I now direct my voice! +That lately didst exclaim in Lombard phrase, + Depart thou, I solicit thee no more,' +Though somewhat tardy I perchance arrive +Let it not irk thee here to pause awhile, +And with me parley: lo! it irks not me +And yet I burn. If but e'en now thou fall +into this blind world, from that pleasant land +Of Latium, whence I draw my sum of guilt, +Tell me if those, who in Romagna dwell, +Have peace or war. For of the mountains there +Was I, betwixt Urbino and the height, +Whence Tyber first unlocks his mighty flood." + Leaning I listen'd yet with heedful ear, +When, as he touch'd my side, the leader thus: +"Speak thou: he is a Latian." My reply +Was ready, and I spake without delay: + "O spirit! who art hidden here below! +Never was thy Romagna without war +In her proud tyrants' bosoms, nor is now: +But open war there left I none. The state, +Ravenna hath maintain'd this many a year, +Is steadfast. There Polenta's eagle broods, +And in his broad circumference of plume +O'ershadows Cervia. The green talons grasp +The land, that stood erewhile the proof so long, +And pil'd in bloody heap the host of France. + "The' old mastiff of Verruchio and the young, +That tore Montagna in their wrath, still make, +Where they are wont, an augre of their fangs. + "Lamone's city and Santerno's range +Under the lion of the snowy lair. +Inconstant partisan! that changeth sides, +Or ever summer yields to winter's frost. +And she, whose flank is wash'd of Savio's wave, +As 'twixt the level and the steep she lies, +Lives so 'twixt tyrant power and liberty. + "Now tell us, I entreat thee, who art thou? +Be not more hard than others. In the world, +So may thy name still rear its forehead high." + Then roar'd awhile the fire, its sharpen'd point +On either side wav'd, and thus breath'd at last: +"If I did think, my answer were to one, +Who ever could return unto the world, +This flame should rest unshaken. But since ne'er, +If true be told me, any from this depth +Has found his upward way, I answer thee, +Nor fear lest infamy record the words. + "A man of arms at first, I cloth'd me then +In good Saint Francis' girdle, hoping so +T' have made amends. And certainly my hope +Had fail'd not, but that he, whom curses light on, +The' high priest again seduc'd me into sin. +And how and wherefore listen while I tell. +Long as this spirit mov'd the bones and pulp +My mother gave me, less my deeds bespake +The nature of the lion than the fox. +All ways of winding subtlety I knew, +And with such art conducted, that the sound +Reach'd the world's limit. Soon as to that part +Of life I found me come, when each behoves +To lower sails and gather in the lines; +That which before had pleased me then I rued, +And to repentance and confession turn'd; +Wretch that I was! and well it had bested me! +The chief of the new Pharisees meantime, +Waging his warfare near the Lateran, +Not with the Saracens or Jews (his foes +All Christians were, nor against Acre one +Had fought, nor traffic'd in the Soldan's land), +He his great charge nor sacred ministry +In himself, rev'renc'd, nor in me that cord, +Which us'd to mark with leanness whom it girded. +As in Socrate, Constantine besought +To cure his leprosy Sylvester's aid, +So me to cure the fever of his pride +This man besought: my counsel to that end +He ask'd: and I was silent: for his words +Seem'd drunken: but forthwith he thus resum'd: +"From thy heart banish fear: of all offence +I hitherto absolve thee. In return, +Teach me my purpose so to execute, +That Penestrino cumber earth no more. +Heav'n, as thou knowest, I have power to shut +And open: and the keys are therefore twain, +The which my predecessor meanly priz'd." + Then, yielding to the forceful arguments, +Of silence as more perilous I deem'd, +And answer'd: "Father! since thou washest me +Clear of that guilt wherein I now must fall, +Large promise with performance scant, be sure, +Shall make thee triumph in thy lofty seat." + "When I was number'd with the dead, then came +Saint Francis for me; but a cherub dark +He met, who cried: "'Wrong me not; he is mine, +And must below to join the wretched crew, +For the deceitful counsel which he gave. +E'er since I watch'd him, hov'ring at his hair, +No power can the impenitent absolve; +Nor to repent and will at once consist, +By contradiction absolute forbid." +Oh mis'ry! how I shook myself, when he +Seiz'd me, and cried, "Thou haply thought'st me not +A disputant in logic so exact." +To Minos down he bore me, and the judge +Twin'd eight times round his callous back the tail, +Which biting with excess of rage, he spake: +"This is a guilty soul, that in the fire +Must vanish.' Hence perdition-doom'd I rove +A prey to rankling sorrow in this garb." + When he had thus fulfill'd his words, the flame +In dolour parted, beating to and fro, +And writhing its sharp horn. We onward went, +I and my leader, up along the rock, +Far as another arch, that overhangs +The foss, wherein the penalty is paid +Of those, who load them with committed sin. + + + +CANTO XXVIII + +WHO, e'en in words unfetter'd, might at full +Tell of the wounds and blood that now I saw, +Though he repeated oft the tale? No tongue +So vast a theme could equal, speech and thought +Both impotent alike. If in one band +Collected, stood the people all, who e'er +Pour'd on Apulia's happy soil their blood, +Slain by the Trojans, and in that long war +When of the rings the measur'd booty made +A pile so high, as Rome's historian writes +Who errs not, with the multitude, that felt +The grinding force of Guiscard's Norman steel, +And those the rest, whose bones are gather'd yet +At Ceperano, there where treachery +Branded th' Apulian name, or where beyond +Thy walls, O Tagliacozzo, without arms +The old Alardo conquer'd; and his limbs +One were to show transpierc'd, another his +Clean lopt away; a spectacle like this +Were but a thing of nought, to the' hideous sight +Of the ninth chasm. A rundlet, that hath lost +Its middle or side stave, gapes not so wide, +As one I mark'd, torn from the chin throughout +Down to the hinder passage: 'twixt the legs +Dangling his entrails hung, the midriff lay +Open to view, and wretched ventricle, +That turns th' englutted aliment to dross. + Whilst eagerly I fix on him my gaze, +He ey'd me, with his hands laid his breast bare, +And cried; "Now mark how I do rip me! lo! +How is Mohammed mangled! before me +Walks Ali weeping, from the chin his face +Cleft to the forelock; and the others all +Whom here thou seest, while they liv'd, did sow +Scandal and schism, and therefore thus are rent. +A fiend is here behind, who with his sword +Hacks us thus cruelly, slivering again +Each of this ream, when we have compast round +The dismal way, for first our gashes close +Ere we repass before him. But say who +Art thou, that standest musing on the rock, +Haply so lingering to delay the pain +Sentenc'd upon thy crimes?"--"Him death not yet," +My guide rejoin'd, "hath overta'en, nor sin +Conducts to torment; but, that he may make +Full trial of your state, I who am dead +Must through the depths of hell, from orb to orb, +Conduct him. Trust my words, for they are true." + More than a hundred spirits, when that they heard, +Stood in the foss to mark me, through amazed, +Forgetful of their pangs. "Thou, who perchance +Shalt shortly view the sun, this warning thou +Bear to Dolcino: bid him, if he wish not +Here soon to follow me, that with good store +Of food he arm him, lest impris'ning snows +Yield him a victim to Novara's power, +No easy conquest else." With foot uprais'd +For stepping, spake Mohammed, on the ground +Then fix'd it to depart. Another shade, +Pierc'd in the throat, his nostrils mutilate +E'en from beneath the eyebrows, and one ear +Lopt off, who with the rest through wonder stood +Gazing, before the rest advanc'd, and bar'd +His wind-pipe, that without was all o'ersmear'd +With crimson stain. "O thou!" said 'he, "whom sin +Condemns not, and whom erst (unless too near +Resemblance do deceive me) I aloft +Have seen on Latian ground, call thou to mind +Piero of Medicina, if again +Returning, thou behold'st the pleasant land +That from Vercelli slopes to Mercabo; +And there instruct the twain, whom Fano boasts +Her worthiest sons, Guido and Angelo, +That if 't is giv'n us here to scan aright +The future, they out of life's tenement +Shall be cast forth, and whelm'd under the waves +Near to Cattolica, through perfidy +Of a fell tyrant. 'Twixt the Cyprian isle +And Balearic, ne'er hath Neptune seen +An injury so foul, by pirates done +Or Argive crew of old. That one-ey'd traitor +(Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain +His eye had still lack'd sight of) them shall bring +To conf'rence with him, then so shape his end, +That they shall need not 'gainst Focara's wind +Offer up vow nor pray'r." I answering thus: + "Declare, as thou dost wish that I above +May carry tidings of thee, who is he, +In whom that sight doth wake such sad remembrance?" + Forthwith he laid his hand on the cheek-bone +Of one, his fellow-spirit, and his jaws +Expanding, cried: "Lo! this is he I wot of; +He speaks not for himself: the outcast this +Who overwhelm'd the doubt in Caesar's mind, +Affirming that delay to men prepar'd +Was ever harmful. "Oh how terrified +Methought was Curio, from whose throat was cut +The tongue, which spake that hardy word. Then one +Maim'd of each hand, uplifted in the gloom +The bleeding stumps, that they with gory spots +Sullied his face, and cried: "'Remember thee +Of Mosca, too, I who, alas! exclaim'd, +'The deed once done there is an end,' that prov'd +A seed of sorrow to the Tuscan race." + I added: "Ay, and death to thine own tribe." + Whence heaping woe on woe he hurried off, +As one grief stung to madness. But I there +Still linger'd to behold the troop, and saw +Things, such as I may fear without more proof +To tell of, but that conscience makes me firm, +The boon companion, who her strong breast-plate +Buckles on him, that feels no guilt within +And bids him on and fear not. Without doubt +I saw, and yet it seems to pass before me, +A headless trunk, that even as the rest +Of the sad flock pac'd onward. By the hair +It bore the sever'd member, lantern-wise +Pendent in hand, which look'd at us and said, +"Woe's me!" The spirit lighted thus himself, +And two there were in one, and one in two. +How that may be he knows who ordereth so. + When at the bridge's foot direct he stood, +His arm aloft he rear'd, thrusting the head +Full in our view, that nearer we might hear +The words, which thus it utter'd: "Now behold +This grievous torment, thou, who breathing go'st +To spy the dead; behold if any else +Be terrible as this. And that on earth +Thou mayst bear tidings of me, know that I +Am Bertrand, he of Born, who gave King John +The counsel mischievous. Father and son +I set at mutual war. For Absalom +And David more did not Ahitophel, +Spurring them on maliciously to strife. +For parting those so closely knit, my brain +Parted, alas! I carry from its source, +That in this trunk inhabits. Thus the law +Of retribution fiercely works in me." + + + +CANTO XXIX + +SO were mine eyes inebriate with view +Of the vast multitude, whom various wounds +Disfigur'd, that they long'd to stay and weep. + But Virgil rous'd me: "What yet gazest on? +Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight below +Among the maim'd and miserable shades? +Thou hast not shewn in any chasm beside +This weakness. Know, if thou wouldst number them +That two and twenty miles the valley winds +Its circuit, and already is the moon +Beneath our feet: the time permitted now +Is short, and more not seen remains to see." + "If thou," I straight replied, "hadst weigh'd the cause +For which I look'd, thou hadst perchance excus'd +The tarrying still." My leader part pursu'd +His way, the while I follow'd, answering him, +And adding thus: "Within that cave I deem, +Whereon so fixedly I held my ken, +There is a spirit dwells, one of my blood, +Wailing the crime that costs him now so dear." + Then spake my master: "Let thy soul no more +Afflict itself for him. Direct elsewhere +Its thought, and leave him. At the bridge's foot +I mark'd how he did point with menacing look +At thee, and heard him by the others nam'd +Geri of Bello. Thou so wholly then +Wert busied with his spirit, who once rul'd +The towers of Hautefort, that thou lookedst not +That way, ere he was gone."--"O guide belov'd! +His violent death yet unaveng'd," said I, +"By any, who are partners in his shame, +Made him contemptuous: therefore, as I think, +He pass'd me speechless by; and doing so +Hath made me more compassionate his fate." + So we discours'd to where the rock first show'd +The other valley, had more light been there, +E'en to the lowest depth. Soon as we came +O'er the last cloister in the dismal rounds +Of Malebolge, and the brotherhood +Were to our view expos'd, then many a dart +Of sore lament assail'd me, headed all +With points of thrilling pity, that I clos'd +Both ears against the volley with mine hands. + As were the torment, if each lazar-house +Of Valdichiana, in the sultry time +'Twixt July and September, with the isle +Sardinia and Maremma's pestilent fen, +Had heap'd their maladies all in one foss +Together; such was here the torment: dire +The stench, as issuing steams from fester'd limbs. + We on the utmost shore of the long rock +Descended still to leftward. Then my sight +Was livelier to explore the depth, wherein +The minister of the most mighty Lord, +All-searching Justice, dooms to punishment +The forgers noted on her dread record. + More rueful was it not methinks to see +The nation in Aegina droop, what time +Each living thing, e'en to the little worm, +All fell, so full of malice was the air +(And afterward, as bards of yore have told, +The ancient people were restor'd anew +From seed of emmets) than was here to see +The spirits, that languish'd through the murky vale +Up-pil'd on many a stack. Confus'd they lay, +One o'er the belly, o'er the shoulders one +Roll'd of another; sideling crawl'd a third +Along the dismal pathway. Step by step +We journey'd on, in silence looking round +And list'ning those diseas'd, who strove in vain +To lift their forms. Then two I mark'd, that sat +Propp'd 'gainst each other, as two brazen pans +Set to retain the heat. From head to foot, +A tetter bark'd them round. Nor saw I e'er +Groom currying so fast, for whom his lord +Impatient waited, or himself perchance +Tir'd with long watching, as of these each one +Plied quickly his keen nails, through furiousness +Of ne'er abated pruriency. The crust +Came drawn from underneath in flakes, like scales +Scrap'd from the bream or fish of broader mail. + "O thou, who with thy fingers rendest off +Thy coat of proof," thus spake my guide to one, +"And sometimes makest tearing pincers of them, +Tell me if any born of Latian land +Be among these within: so may thy nails +Serve thee for everlasting to this toil." + "Both are of Latium," weeping he replied, +"Whom tortur'd thus thou seest: but who art thou +That hast inquir'd of us?" To whom my guide: +"One that descend with this man, who yet lives, +From rock to rock, and show him hell's abyss." + Then started they asunder, and each turn'd +Trembling toward us, with the rest, whose ear +Those words redounding struck. To me my liege +Address'd him: "Speak to them whate'er thou list." + And I therewith began: "So may no time +Filch your remembrance from the thoughts of men +In th' upper world, but after many suns +Survive it, as ye tell me, who ye are, +And of what race ye come. Your punishment, +Unseemly and disgustful in its kind, +Deter you not from opening thus much to me." + "Arezzo was my dwelling," answer'd one, +"And me Albero of Sienna brought +To die by fire; but that, for which I died, +Leads me not here. True is in sport I told him, +That I had learn'd to wing my flight in air. +And he admiring much, as he was void +Of wisdom, will'd me to declare to him +The secret of mine art: and only hence, +Because I made him not a Daedalus, +Prevail'd on one suppos'd his sire to burn me. +But Minos to this chasm last of the ten, +For that I practis'd alchemy on earth, +Has doom'd me. Him no subterfuge eludes." + Then to the bard I spake: "Was ever race +Light as Sienna's? Sure not France herself +Can show a tribe so frivolous and vain." + The other leprous spirit heard my words, +And thus return'd: "Be Stricca from this charge +Exempted, he who knew so temp'rately +To lay out fortune's gifts; and Niccolo +Who first the spice's costly luxury +Discover'd in that garden, where such seed +Roots deepest in the soil: and be that troop +Exempted, with whom Caccia of Asciano +Lavish'd his vineyards and wide-spreading woods, +And his rare wisdom Abbagliato show'd +A spectacle for all. That thou mayst know +Who seconds thee against the Siennese +Thus gladly, bend this way thy sharpen'd sight, +That well my face may answer to thy ken; +So shalt thou see I am Capocchio's ghost, +Who forg'd transmuted metals by the power +Of alchemy; and if I scan thee right, +Thus needs must well remember how I aped +Creative nature by my subtle art." + + + +CANTO XXX + +WHAT time resentment burn'd in Juno's breast +For Semele against the Theban blood, +As more than once in dire mischance was rued, +Such fatal frenzy seiz'd on Athamas, +That he his spouse beholding with a babe +Laden on either arm, "Spread out," he cried, +"The meshes, that I take the lioness +And the young lions at the pass: "then forth +Stretch'd he his merciless talons, grasping one, +One helpless innocent, Learchus nam'd, +Whom swinging down he dash'd upon a rock, +And with her other burden self-destroy'd +The hapless mother plung'd: and when the pride +Of all-presuming Troy fell from its height, +By fortune overwhelm'd, and the old king +With his realm perish'd, then did Hecuba, +A wretch forlorn and captive, when she saw +Polyxena first slaughter'd, and her son, +Her Polydorus, on the wild sea-beach +Next met the mourner's view, then reft of sense +Did she run barking even as a dog; +Such mighty power had grief to wrench her soul. +Bet ne'er the Furies or of Thebes or Troy +With such fell cruelty were seen, their goads +Infixing in the limbs of man or beast, +As now two pale and naked ghost I saw +That gnarling wildly scamper'd, like the swine +Excluded from his stye. One reach'd Capocchio, +And in the neck-joint sticking deep his fangs, +Dragg'd him, that o'er the solid pavement rubb'd +His belly stretch'd out prone. The other shape, +He of Arezzo, there left trembling, spake; +"That sprite of air is Schicchi; in like mood +Of random mischief vent he still his spite." + To whom I answ'ring: "Oh! as thou dost hope, +The other may not flesh its jaws on thee, +Be patient to inform us, who it is, +Ere it speed hence."--" That is the ancient soul +Of wretched Myrrha," he replied, "who burn'd +With most unholy flame for her own sire, +And a false shape assuming, so perform'd +The deed of sin; e'en as the other there, +That onward passes, dar'd to counterfeit +Donati's features, to feign'd testament +The seal affixing, that himself might gain, +For his own share, the lady of the herd." + When vanish'd the two furious shades, on whom +Mine eye was held, I turn'd it back to view +The other cursed spirits. One I saw +In fashion like a lute, had but the groin +Been sever'd, where it meets the forked part. +Swoln dropsy, disproportioning the limbs +With ill-converted moisture, that the paunch +Suits not the visage, open'd wide his lips +Gasping as in the hectic man for drought, +One towards the chin, the other upward curl'd. + "O ye, who in this world of misery, +Wherefore I know not, are exempt from pain," +Thus he began, "attentively regard +Adamo's woe. When living, full supply +Ne'er lack'd me of what most I coveted; +One drop of water now, alas! I crave. +The rills, that glitter down the grassy slopes +Of Casentino, making fresh and soft +The banks whereby they glide to Arno's stream, +Stand ever in my view; and not in vain; +For more the pictur'd semblance dries me up, +Much more than the disease, which makes the flesh +Desert these shrivel'd cheeks. So from the place, +Where I transgress'd, stern justice urging me, +Takes means to quicken more my lab'ring sighs. +There is Romena, where I falsified +The metal with the Baptist's form imprest, +For which on earth I left my body burnt. +But if I here might see the sorrowing soul +Of Guido, Alessandro, or their brother, +For Branda's limpid spring I would not change +The welcome sight. One is e'en now within, +If truly the mad spirits tell, that round +Are wand'ring. But wherein besteads me that? +My limbs are fetter'd. Were I but so light, +That I each hundred years might move one inch, +I had set forth already on this path, +Seeking him out amidst the shapeless crew, +Although eleven miles it wind, not more +Than half of one across. They brought me down +Among this tribe; induc'd by them I stamp'd +The florens with three carats of alloy." + "Who are that abject pair," I next inquir'd, +"That closely bounding thee upon thy right +Lie smoking, like a band in winter steep'd +In the chill stream?"--"When to this gulf I dropt," +He answer'd, "here I found them; since that hour +They have not turn'd, nor ever shall, I ween, +Till time hath run his course. One is that dame +The false accuser of the Hebrew youth; +Sinon the other, that false Greek from Troy. +Sharp fever drains the reeky moistness out, +In such a cloud upsteam'd." When that he heard, +One, gall'd perchance to be so darkly nam'd, +With clench'd hand smote him on the braced paunch, +That like a drum resounded: but forthwith +Adamo smote him on the face, the blow +Returning with his arm, that seem'd as hard. + "Though my o'erweighty limbs have ta'en from me +The power to move," said he, "I have an arm +At liberty for such employ." To whom +Was answer'd: "When thou wentest to the fire, +Thou hadst it not so ready at command, +Then readier when it coin'd th' impostor gold." + And thus the dropsied: "Ay, now speak'st thou true. +But there thou gav'st not such true testimony, +When thou wast question'd of the truth, at Troy." + "If I spake false, thou falsely stamp'dst the coin," +Said Sinon; "I am here but for one fault, +And thou for more than any imp beside." + "Remember," he replied, "O perjur'd one, +The horse remember, that did teem with death, +And all the world be witness to thy guilt." + "To thine," return'd the Greek, "witness the thirst +Whence thy tongue cracks, witness the fluid mound, +Rear'd by thy belly up before thine eyes, +A mass corrupt." To whom the coiner thus: +"Thy mouth gapes wide as ever to let pass +Its evil saying. Me if thirst assails, +Yet I am stuff'd with moisture. Thou art parch'd, +Pains rack thy head, no urging would'st thou need +To make thee lap Narcissus' mirror up." + I was all fix'd to listen, when my guide +Admonish'd: "Now beware: a little more. +And I do quarrel with thee." I perceiv'd +How angrily he spake, and towards him turn'd +With shame so poignant, as remember'd yet +Confounds me. As a man that dreams of harm +Befall'n him, dreaming wishes it a dream, +And that which is, desires as if it were not, +Such then was I, who wanting power to speak +Wish'd to excuse myself, and all the while +Excus'd me, though unweeting that I did. + "More grievous fault than thine has been, less shame," +My master cried, "might expiate. Therefore cast +All sorrow from thy soul; and if again +Chance bring thee, where like conference is held, +Think I am ever at thy side. To hear +Such wrangling is a joy for vulgar minds." + + + +CANTO XXXI + +THE very tongue, whose keen reproof before +Had wounded me, that either cheek was stain'd, +Now minister'd my cure. So have I heard, +Achilles and his father's javelin caus'd +Pain first, and then the boon of health restor'd. + Turning our back upon the vale of woe, +W cross'd th' encircled mound in silence. There +Was twilight dim, that far long the gloom +Mine eye advanc'd not: but I heard a horn +Sounded aloud. The peal it blew had made +The thunder feeble. Following its course +The adverse way, my strained eyes were bent +On that one spot. So terrible a blast +Orlando blew not, when that dismal rout +O'erthrew the host of Charlemagne, and quench'd +His saintly warfare. Thitherward not long +My head was rais'd, when many lofty towers +Methought I spied. "Master," said I, "what land +Is this?" He answer'd straight: "Too long a space +Of intervening darkness has thine eye +To traverse: thou hast therefore widely err'd +In thy imagining. Thither arriv'd +Thou well shalt see, how distance can delude +The sense. A little therefore urge thee on." + Then tenderly he caught me by the hand; +"Yet know," said he, "ere farther we advance, +That it less strange may seem, these are not towers, +But giants. In the pit they stand immers'd, +Each from his navel downward, round the bank." + As when a fog disperseth gradually, +Our vision traces what the mist involves +Condens'd in air; so piercing through the gross +And gloomy atmosphere, as more and more +We near'd toward the brink, mine error fled, +And fear came o'er me. As with circling round +Of turrets, Montereggion crowns his walls, +E'en thus the shore, encompassing th' abyss, +Was turreted with giants, half their length +Uprearing, horrible, whom Jove from heav'n +Yet threatens, when his mutt'ring thunder rolls. + Of one already I descried the face, +Shoulders, and breast, and of the belly huge +Great part, and both arms down along his ribs. + All-teeming nature, when her plastic hand +Left framing of these monsters, did display +Past doubt her wisdom, taking from mad War +Such slaves to do his bidding; and if she +Repent her not of th' elephant and whale, +Who ponders well confesses her therein +Wiser and more discreet; for when brute force +And evil will are back'd with subtlety, +Resistance none avails. His visage seem'd +In length and bulk, as doth the pine, that tops +Saint Peter's Roman fane; and th' other bones +Of like proportion, so that from above +The bank, which girdled him below, such height +Arose his stature, that three Friezelanders +Had striv'n in vain to reach but to his hair. +Full thirty ample palms was he expos'd +Downward from whence a man his garments loops. +"Raphel bai ameth sabi almi," +So shouted his fierce lips, which sweeter hymns +Became not; and my guide address'd him thus: +"O senseless spirit! let thy horn for thee +Interpret: therewith vent thy rage, if rage +Or other passion wring thee. Search thy neck, +There shalt thou find the belt that binds it on. +Wild spirit! lo, upon thy mighty breast +Where hangs the baldrick!" Then to me he spake: +"He doth accuse himself. Nimrod is this, +Through whose ill counsel in the world no more +One tongue prevails. But pass we on, nor waste +Our words; for so each language is to him, +As his to others, understood by none." + Then to the leftward turning sped we forth, +And at a sling's throw found another shade +Far fiercer and more huge. I cannot say +What master hand had girt him; but he held +Behind the right arm fetter'd, and before +The other with a chain, that fasten'd him +From the neck down, and five times round his form +Apparent met the wreathed links. "This proud one +Would of his strength against almighty Jove +Make trial," said my guide; "whence he is thus +Requited: Ephialtes him they call. +Great was his prowess, when the giants brought +Fear on the gods: those arms, which then he piled, +Now moves he never." Forthwith I return'd: +"Fain would I, if 't were possible, mine eyes +Of Briareus immeasurable gain'd +Experience next." He answer'd: "Thou shalt see +Not far from hence Antaeus, who both speaks +And is unfetter'd, who shall place us there +Where guilt is at its depth. Far onward stands +Whom thou wouldst fain behold, in chains, and made +Like to this spirit, save that in his looks +More fell he seems." By violent earthquake rock'd +Ne'er shook a tow'r, so reeling to its base, +As Ephialtes. More than ever then +I dreaded death, nor than the terror more +Had needed, if I had not seen the cords +That held him fast. We, straightway journeying on, +Came to Antaeus, who five ells complete +Without the head, forth issued from the cave. + "O thou, who in the fortunate vale, that made +Great Scipio heir of glory, when his sword +Drove back the troop of Hannibal in flight, +Who thence of old didst carry for thy spoil +An hundred lions; and if thou hadst fought +In the high conflict on thy brethren's side, +Seems as men yet believ'd, that through thine arm +The sons of earth had conquer'd, now vouchsafe +To place us down beneath, where numbing cold +Locks up Cocytus. Force not that we crave +Or Tityus' help or Typhon's. Here is one +Can give what in this realm ye covet. Stoop +Therefore, nor scornfully distort thy lip. +He in the upper world can yet bestow +Renown on thee, for he doth live, and looks +For life yet longer, if before the time +Grace call him not unto herself." Thus spake +The teacher. He in haste forth stretch'd his hands, +And caught my guide. Alcides whilom felt +That grapple straighten'd score. Soon as my guide +Had felt it, he bespake me thus: "This way +That I may clasp thee;" then so caught me up, +That we were both one burden. As appears +The tower of Carisenda, from beneath +Where it doth lean, if chance a passing cloud +So sail across, that opposite it hangs, +Such then Antaeus seem'd, as at mine ease +I mark'd him stooping. I were fain at times +T' have pass'd another way. Yet in th' abyss, +That Lucifer with Judas low ingulfs, +I,ightly he plac'd us; nor there leaning stay'd, +But rose as in a bark the stately mast. + + + +CANTO XXXII + +COULD I command rough rhimes and hoarse, to suit +That hole of sorrow, o'er which ev'ry rock +His firm abutment rears, then might the vein +Of fancy rise full springing: but not mine +Such measures, and with falt'ring awe I touch +The mighty theme; for to describe the depth +Of all the universe, is no emprize +To jest with, and demands a tongue not us'd +To infant babbling. But let them assist +My song, the tuneful maidens, by whose aid +Amphion wall'd in Thebes, so with the truth +My speech shall best accord. Oh ill-starr'd folk, +Beyond all others wretched! who abide +In such a mansion, as scarce thought finds words +To speak of, better had ye here on earth +Been flocks or mountain goats. As down we stood +In the dark pit beneath the giants' feet, +But lower far than they, and I did gaze +Still on the lofty battlement, a voice +Bespoke me thus: "Look how thou walkest. Take +Good heed, thy soles do tread not on the heads +Of thy poor brethren." Thereupon I turn'd, +And saw before and underneath my feet +A lake, whose frozen surface liker seem'd +To glass than water. Not so thick a veil +In winter e'er hath Austrian Danube spread +O'er his still course, nor Tanais far remote +Under the chilling sky. Roll'd o'er that mass +Had Tabernich or Pietrapana fall'n, +Not e'en its rim had creak'd. As peeps the frog +Croaking above the wave, what time in dreams +The village gleaner oft pursues her toil, +So, to where modest shame appears, thus low +Blue pinch'd and shrin'd in ice the spirits stood, +Moving their teeth in shrill note like the stork. +His face each downward held; their mouth the cold, +Their eyes express'd the dolour of their heart. + A space I look'd around, then at my feet +Saw two so strictly join'd, that of their head +The very hairs were mingled. "Tell me ye, +Whose bosoms thus together press," said I, +"Who are ye?" At that sound their necks they bent, +And when their looks were lifted up to me, +Straightway their eyes, before all moist within, +Distill'd upon their lips, and the frost bound +The tears betwixt those orbs and held them there. +Plank unto plank hath never cramp clos'd up +So stoutly. Whence like two enraged goats +They clash'd together; them such fury seiz'd. + And one, from whom the cold both ears had reft, +Exclaim'd, still looking downward: "Why on us +Dost speculate so long? If thou wouldst know +Who are these two, the valley, whence his wave +Bisenzio slopes, did for its master own +Their sire Alberto, and next him themselves. +They from one body issued; and throughout +Caina thou mayst search, nor find a shade +More worthy in congealment to be fix'd, +Not him, whose breast and shadow Arthur's land +At that one blow dissever'd, not Focaccia, +No not this spirit, whose o'erjutting head +Obstructs my onward view: he bore the name +Of Mascheroni: Tuscan if thou be, +Well knowest who he was: and to cut short +All further question, in my form behold +What once was Camiccione. I await +Carlino here my kinsman, whose deep guilt +Shall wash out mine." A thousand visages +Then mark'd I, which the keen and eager cold +Had shap'd into a doggish grin; whence creeps +A shiv'ring horror o'er me, at the thought +Of those frore shallows. While we journey'd on +Toward the middle, at whose point unites +All heavy substance, and I trembling went +Through that eternal chillness, I know not +If will it were or destiny, or chance, +But, passing 'midst the heads, my foot did strike +With violent blow against the face of one. + "Wherefore dost bruise me?" weeping, he exclaim'd, +"Unless thy errand be some fresh revenge +For Montaperto, wherefore troublest me?" + I thus: "Instructor, now await me here, +That I through him may rid me of my doubt. +Thenceforth what haste thou wilt." The teacher paus'd, +And to that shade I spake, who bitterly +Still curs'd me in his wrath. "What art thou, speak, +That railest thus on others?" He replied: +"Now who art thou, that smiting others' cheeks +Through Antenora roamest, with such force +As were past suff'rance, wert thou living still?" + "And I am living, to thy joy perchance," +Was my reply, "if fame be dear to thee, +That with the rest I may thy name enrol." + "The contrary of what I covet most," +Said he, "thou tender'st: hence; nor vex me more. +Ill knowest thou to flatter in this vale." + Then seizing on his hinder scalp, I cried: +"Name thee, or not a hair shall tarry here." + "Rend all away," he answer'd, "yet for that +I will not tell nor show thee who I am, +Though at my head thou pluck a thousand times." + Now I had grasp'd his tresses, and stript off +More than one tuft, he barking, with his eyes +Drawn in and downward, when another cried, +"What ails thee, Bocca? Sound not loud enough +Thy chatt'ring teeth, but thou must bark outright? +What devil wrings thee?"--" Now," said I, "be dumb, +Accursed traitor! to thy shame of thee +True tidings will I bear."--" Off," he replied, +"Tell what thou list; but as thou escape from hence +To speak of him whose tongue hath been so glib, +Forget not: here he wails the Frenchman's gold. +'Him of Duera,' thou canst say, 'I mark'd, +Where the starv'd sinners pine.' If thou be ask'd +What other shade was with them, at thy side +Is Beccaria, whose red gorge distain'd +The biting axe of Florence. Farther on, +If I misdeem not, Soldanieri bides, +With Ganellon, and Tribaldello, him +Who op'd Faenza when the people slept." + We now had left him, passing on our way, +When I beheld two spirits by the ice +Pent in one hollow, that the head of one +Was cowl unto the other; and as bread +Is raven'd up through hunger, th' uppermost +Did so apply his fangs to th' other's brain, +Where the spine joins it. Not more furiously +On Menalippus' temples Tydeus gnaw'd, +Than on that skull and on its garbage he. + "O thou who show'st so beastly sign of hate +'Gainst him thou prey'st on, let me hear," said I +"The cause, on such condition, that if right +Warrant thy grievance, knowing who ye are, +And what the colour of his sinning was, +I may repay thee in the world above, +If that, wherewith I speak be moist so long." + + + +CANTO XXXIII + +HIS jaws uplifting from their fell repast, +That sinner wip'd them on the hairs o' th' head, +Which he behind had mangled, then began: +"Thy will obeying, I call up afresh +Sorrow past cure, which but to think of wrings +My heart, or ere I tell on't. But if words, +That I may utter, shall prove seed to bear +Fruit of eternal infamy to him, +The traitor whom I gnaw at, thou at once +Shalt see me speak and weep. Who thou mayst be +I know not, nor how here below art come: +But Florentine thou seemest of a truth, +When I do hear thee. Know I was on earth +Count Ugolino, and th' Archbishop he +Ruggieri. Why I neighbour him so close, +Now list. That through effect of his ill thoughts +In him my trust reposing, I was ta'en +And after murder'd, need is not I tell. +What therefore thou canst not have heard, that is, +How cruel was the murder, shalt thou hear, +And know if he have wrong'd me. A small grate +Within that mew, which for my sake the name +Of famine bears, where others yet must pine, +Already through its opening sev'ral moons +Had shown me, when I slept the evil sleep, +That from the future tore the curtain off. +This one, methought, as master of the sport, +Rode forth to chase the gaunt wolf and his whelps +Unto the mountain, which forbids the sight +Of Lucca to the Pisan. With lean brachs +Inquisitive and keen, before him rang'd +Lanfranchi with Sismondi and Gualandi. +After short course the father and the sons +Seem'd tir'd and lagging, and methought I saw +The sharp tusks gore their sides. When I awoke +Before the dawn, amid their sleep I heard +My sons (for they were with me) weep and ask +For bread. Right cruel art thou, if no pang +Thou feel at thinking what my heart foretold; +And if not now, why use thy tears to flow? +Now had they waken'd; and the hour drew near +When they were wont to bring us food; the mind +Of each misgave him through his dream, and I +Heard, at its outlet underneath lock'd up +The' horrible tower: whence uttering not a word +I look'd upon the visage of my sons. +I wept not: so all stone I felt within. +They wept: and one, my little Anslem, cried: +"Thou lookest so! Father what ails thee?" Yet +I shed no tear, nor answer'd all that day +Nor the next night, until another sun +Came out upon the world. When a faint beam +Had to our doleful prison made its way, +And in four countenances I descry'd +The image of my own, on either hand +Through agony I bit, and they who thought +I did it through desire of feeding, rose +O' th' sudden, and cried, 'Father, we should grieve +Far less, if thou wouldst eat of us: thou gav'st +These weeds of miserable flesh we wear, +And do thou strip them off from us again.' +Then, not to make them sadder, I kept down +My spirit in stillness. That day and the next +We all were silent. Ah, obdurate earth! +Why open'dst not upon us? When we came +To the fourth day, then Geddo at my feet +Outstretch'd did fling him, crying, 'Hast no help +For me, my father!' "There he died, and e'en +Plainly as thou seest me, saw I the three +Fall one by one 'twixt the fifth day and sixth: +Whence I betook me now grown blind to grope +Over them all, and for three days aloud +Call'd on them who were dead. Then fasting got +The mastery of grief." Thus having spoke, +Once more upon the wretched skull his teeth +He fasten'd, like a mastiff's 'gainst the bone +Firm and unyielding. Oh thou Pisa! shame +Of all the people, who their dwelling make +In that fair region, where th' Italian voice +Is heard, since that thy neighbours are so slack +To punish, from their deep foundations rise +Capraia and Gorgona, and dam up +The mouth of Arno, that each soul in thee +May perish in the waters! What if fame +Reported that thy castles were betray'd +By Ugolino, yet no right hadst thou +To stretch his children on the rack. For them, +Brigata, Ugaccione, and the pair +Of gentle ones, of whom my song hath told, +Their tender years, thou modern Thebes! did make +Uncapable of guilt. Onward we pass'd, +Where others skarf'd in rugged folds of ice +Not on their feet were turn'd, but each revers'd + There very weeping suffers not to weep; +For at their eyes grief seeking passage finds +Impediment, and rolling inward turns +For increase of sharp anguish: the first tears +Hang cluster'd, and like crystal vizors show, +Under the socket brimming all the cup. + Now though the cold had from my face dislodg'd +Each feeling, as 't were callous, yet me seem'd +Some breath of wind I felt. "Whence cometh this," +Said I, "my master? Is not here below +All vapour quench'd?"--"'Thou shalt be speedily," +He answer'd, "where thine eye shall tell thee whence +The cause descrying of this airy shower." + Then cried out one in the chill crust who mourn'd: +"O souls so cruel! that the farthest post +Hath been assign'd you, from this face remove +The harden'd veil, that I may vent the grief +Impregnate at my heart, some little space +Ere it congeal again!" I thus replied: +"Say who thou wast, if thou wouldst have mine aid; +And if I extricate thee not, far down +As to the lowest ice may I descend!" + "The friar Alberigo," answered he, +"Am I, who from the evil garden pluck'd +Its fruitage, and am here repaid, the date +More luscious for my fig."--"Hah!" I exclaim'd, +"Art thou too dead!"--"How in the world aloft +It fareth with my body," answer'd he, +"I am right ignorant. Such privilege +Hath Ptolomea, that ofttimes the soul +Drops hither, ere by Atropos divorc'd. +And that thou mayst wipe out more willingly +The glazed tear-drops that o'erlay mine eyes, +Know that the soul, that moment she betrays, +As I did, yields her body to a fiend +Who after moves and governs it at will, +Till all its time be rounded; headlong she +Falls to this cistern. And perchance above +Doth yet appear the body of a ghost, +Who here behind me winters. Him thou know'st, +If thou but newly art arriv'd below. +The years are many that have pass'd away, +Since to this fastness Branca Doria came." + "Now," answer'd I, "methinks thou mockest me, +For Branca Doria never yet hath died, +But doth all natural functions of a man, +Eats, drinks, and sleeps, and putteth raiment on." + He thus: "Not yet unto that upper foss +By th' evil talons guarded, where the pitch +Tenacious boils, had Michael Zanche reach'd, +When this one left a demon in his stead +In his own body, and of one his kin, +Who with him treachery wrought. But now put forth +Thy hand, and ope mine eyes." I op'd them not. +Ill manners were best courtesy to him. + Ah Genoese! men perverse in every way, +With every foulness stain'd, why from the earth +Are ye not cancel'd? Such an one of yours +I with Romagna's darkest spirit found, +As for his doings even now in soul +Is in Cocytus plung'd, and yet doth seem +In body still alive upon the earth. + + + +CANTO XXXIV + +"THE banners of Hell's Monarch do come forth +Towards us; therefore look," so spake my guide, +"If thou discern him." As, when breathes a cloud +Heavy and dense, or when the shades of night +Fall on our hemisphere, seems view'd from far +A windmill, which the blast stirs briskly round, +Such was the fabric then methought I saw, + To shield me from the wind, forthwith I drew +Behind my guide: no covert else was there. + Now came I (and with fear I bid my strain +Record the marvel) where the souls were all +Whelm'd underneath, transparent, as through glass +Pellucid the frail stem. Some prone were laid, +Others stood upright, this upon the soles, +That on his head, a third with face to feet +Arch'd like a bow. When to the point we came, +Whereat my guide was pleas'd that I should see +The creature eminent in beauty once, +He from before me stepp'd and made me pause. + "Lo!" he exclaim'd, "lo Dis! and lo the place, +Where thou hast need to arm thy heart with strength." + How frozen and how faint I then became, +Ask me not, reader! for I write it not, +Since words would fail to tell thee of my state. +I was not dead nor living. Think thyself +If quick conception work in thee at all, +How I did feel. That emperor, who sways +The realm of sorrow, at mid breast from th' ice +Stood forth; and I in stature am more like +A giant, than the giants are in his arms. +Mark now how great that whole must be, which suits +With such a part. If he were beautiful +As he is hideous now, and yet did dare +To scowl upon his Maker, well from him +May all our mis'ry flow. Oh what a sight! +How passing strange it seem'd, when I did spy +Upon his head three faces: one in front +Of hue vermilion, th' other two with this +Midway each shoulder join'd and at the crest; +The right 'twixt wan and yellow seem'd: the left +To look on, such as come from whence old Nile +Stoops to the lowlands. Under each shot forth +Two mighty wings, enormous as became +A bird so vast. Sails never such I saw +Outstretch'd on the wide sea. No plumes had they, +But were in texture like a bat, and these +He flapp'd i' th' air, that from him issued still +Three winds, wherewith Cocytus to its depth +Was frozen. At six eyes he wept: the tears +Adown three chins distill'd with bloody foam. +At every mouth his teeth a sinner champ'd +Bruis'd as with pond'rous engine, so that three +Were in this guise tormented. But far more +Than from that gnawing, was the foremost pang'd +By the fierce rending, whence ofttimes the back +Was stript of all its skin. "That upper spirit, +Who hath worse punishment," so spake my guide, +"Is Judas, he that hath his head within +And plies the feet without. Of th' other two, +Whose heads are under, from the murky jaw +Who hangs, is Brutus: lo! how he doth writhe +And speaks not! Th' other Cassius, that appears +So large of limb. But night now re-ascends, +And it is time for parting. All is seen." + I clipp'd him round the neck, for so he bade; +And noting time and place, he, when the wings +Enough were op'd, caught fast the shaggy sides, +And down from pile to pile descending stepp'd +Between the thick fell and the jagged ice. + Soon as he reach'd the point, whereat the thigh +Upon the swelling of the haunches turns, +My leader there with pain and struggling hard +Turn'd round his head, where his feet stood before, +And grappled at the fell, as one who mounts, +That into hell methought we turn'd again. + "Expect that by such stairs as these," thus spake +The teacher, panting like a man forespent, +"We must depart from evil so extreme." +Then at a rocky opening issued forth, +And plac'd me on a brink to sit, next join'd +With wary step my side. I rais'd mine eyes, +Believing that I Lucifer should see +Where he was lately left, but saw him now +With legs held upward. Let the grosser sort, +Who see not what the point was I had pass'd, +Bethink them if sore toil oppress'd me then. + "Arise," my master cried, "upon thy feet. +"The way is long, and much uncouth the road; +And now within one hour and half of noon +The sun returns." It was no palace-hall +Lofty and luminous wherein we stood, +But natural dungeon where ill footing was +And scant supply of light. "Ere from th' abyss +I sep'rate," thus when risen I began, +"My guide! vouchsafe few words to set me free +From error's thralldom. Where is now the ice? +How standeth he in posture thus revers'd? +And how from eve to morn in space so brief +Hath the sun made his transit?" He in few +Thus answering spake: "Thou deemest thou art still +On th' other side the centre, where I grasp'd +Th' abhorred worm, that boreth through the world. +Thou wast on th' other side, so long as I +Descended; when I turn'd, thou didst o'erpass +That point, to which from ev'ry part is dragg'd +All heavy substance. Thou art now arriv'd +Under the hemisphere opposed to that, +Which the great continent doth overspread, +And underneath whose canopy expir'd +The Man, that was born sinless, and so liv'd. +Thy feet are planted on the smallest sphere, +Whose other aspect is Judecca. Morn +Here rises, when there evening sets: and he, +Whose shaggy pile was scal'd, yet standeth fix'd, +As at the first. On this part he fell down +From heav'n; and th' earth, here prominent before, +Through fear of him did veil her with the sea, +And to our hemisphere retir'd. Perchance +To shun him was the vacant space left here +By what of firm land on this side appears, +That sprang aloof." There is a place beneath, +From Belzebub as distant, as extends +The vaulted tomb, discover'd not by sight, +But by the sound of brooklet, that descends +This way along the hollow of a rock, +Which, as it winds with no precipitous course, +The wave hath eaten. By that hidden way +My guide and I did enter, to return +To the fair world: and heedless of repose +We climbed, he first, I following his steps, +Till on our view the beautiful lights of heav'n +Dawn, through a circular opening in the cave: +Thus issuing we again beheld the stars. + + + +NOTES TO HELL + +CANTO I + +Verse 1. In the midway.] That the era of the Poem is intended +by these words to be fixed to the thirty fifth year of the poet's +age, A.D. 1300, will appear more plainly in Canto XXI. where that +date is explicitly marked. + +v. 16. That planet's beam.] The sun. + +v. 29. The hinder foot.] It is to be remembered, that in +ascending a hill the weight of the body rests on the hinder foot. + +v. 30. A panther.] Pleasure or luxury. + +v. 36. With those stars.] The sun was in Aries, in which sign +he supposes it to have begun its course at the creation. + +v. 43. A lion.] Pride or ambition. + +v. 45. A she wolf.] Avarice. + +v. 56. Where the sun in silence rests.] Hence Milton appears to +have taken his idea in the Samson Agonistes: + + The sun to me is dark + And silent as the moon, &c +The same metaphor will recur, Canto V. v. 29. + Into a place I came + Where light was silent all. + +v. 65. When the power of Julius.] This is explained by the +commentators to mean "Although it was rather late with respect to +my birth before Julius Caesar assumed the supreme authority, and +made himself perpetual dictator." + +v. 98. That greyhound.] This passage is intended as an eulogium +on the liberal spirit of his Veronese patron Can Grande della +Scala. + +v. 102. 'Twizt either Feltro.] Verona, the country of Can della +Scala, is situated between Feltro, a city in the Marca +Trivigiana, and Monte Feltro, a city in the territory of Urbino. + +v. 103. Italia's plains.] "Umile Italia," from Virgil, Aen lib. +iii. 522. + Humilemque videmus + Italiam. + +v. 115. Content in fire.] The spirits in Purgatory. + +v. 118. A spirit worthier.] Beatrice, who conducts the Poet +through Paradise. + +v. 130. Saint Peter's gate.] The gate of Purgatory, which the +Poet feigns to be guarded by an angel placed on that station by +St. Peter. + +CANTO II + +v. 1. Now was the day.] A compendium of Virgil's description +Aen. lib. iv 522. Nox erat, &c. Compare Apollonius Rhodius, lib +iii. 744, and lib. iv. 1058 + +v. 8. O mind.] + O thought that write all that I met, + And in the tresorie it set + Of my braine, now shall men see + If any virtue in thee be. + Chaucer. Temple of Fame, b. ii. v.18 + +v. 14. Silvius'sire.] Aeneas. + +v. 30. The chosen vessel.] St.Paul, Acts, c. ix. v. 15. "But +the Lord said unto him, Go thy way; for he is a chosen vessel +unto me." + +v. 46. Thy soul.] L'anima tua e da viltate offesa. So in Berni, +Orl Inn.lib. iii. c. i. st. 53. + Se l'alma avete offesa da viltate. + +v. 64. Who rest suspended.] The spirits in Limbo, neither +admitted to a state of glory nor doomed to punishment. + +v. 61. A friend not of my fortune, but myself.] Se non fortunae +sed hominibus solere esse amicum. Cornelii Nepotis Attici Vitae, +c. ix. + +v. 78. Whatever is contain'd.] Every other thing comprised +within the lunar heaven, which, being the lowest of all, has the +smallest circle. + +v. 93. A blessed dame.] The divine mercy. + +v. 97. Lucia.] The enlightening grace of heaven. + +v. 124. Three maids.] The divine mercy, Lucia, and Beatrice. + +v. 127. As florets.] This simile is well translated by +Chaucer-- + But right as floures through the cold of night + Iclosed, stoupen in her stalkes lowe, + Redressen hem agen the sunne bright, + And speden in her kinde course by rowe, &c. + Troilus and Creseide, b.ii. +It has been imitated by many others, among whom see Berni, +Orl.Inn. Iib. 1. c. xii. st. 86. Marino, Adone, c. xvii. st. 63. +and Sor. "Donna vestita di nero." and Spenser's Faery Queen, b.4. +c. xii. st. 34. and b. 6 c. ii. st. 35. + +CANTO III + +v. 5. Power divine + Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.] The three +persons of the blessed Trinity. +v. 9. all hope abandoned.] Lasciate ogni speranza voi +ch'entrate. +So Berni, Orl. Inn. lib. i. c. 8. st. 53. + Lascia pur della vita ogni speranza. + +v. 29. Like to the sand.] + Unnumber'd as the sands + Of Barca or Cyrene's torrid soil + Levied to side with warring winds, and poise + Their lighter wings. + Milton, P. L. ii. 908. + +v. 40. Lest th' accursed tribe.] Lest the rebellious angels +should exult at seeing those who were neutral and therefore less +guilty, condemned to the same punishment with themselves. + +v. 50. A flag.] + All the grisly legions that troop + Under the sooty flag of Acheron + Milton. Comus. + +v. 56. Who to base fear + Yielding, abjur'd his high estate.] This is +commonly understood of Celestine the Fifth, who abdicated the +papal power in 1294. Venturi mentions a work written by +Innocenzio Barcellini, of the Celestine order, and printed in +Milan in 1701, In which an attempt is made to put a different +interpretation on this passage. + +v. 70. through the blear light.] + Lo fioco lume +So Filicaja, canz. vi. st. 12. + Qual fioco lume. + +v. 77. An old man.] + Portitor has horrendus aquas et flumina servat + Terribili squalore Charon, cui plurima mento + Canities inculta jacet; stant lumina flamma. + Virg. 7. Aen. Iib. vi. 2. + +v. 82. In fierce heat and in ice.] + The delighted spirit + To bathe in fiery floods or to reside + In thrilling regions of thick ribbed ice. + Shakesp. Measure for Measure, a. iii.s.1. +Compare Milton, P. L. b. ii. 600. + +v. 92. The livid lake.] Vada livida. + Virg. Aen. Iib. vi. 320 + Totius ut Lacus putidaeque paludis + Lividissima, maximeque est profunda vorago. + Catullus. xviii. 10. + +v. 102. With eyes of burning coal.] + His looks were dreadful, and his fiery eyes + Like two great beacons glared bright and wide. + Spenser. F.Q. b. vi. c. vii.st. 42 + +v. 104. As fall off the light of autumnal leaves.] + Quam multa in silvis autumul frigore primo + Lapsa cadunt folia. + Virg. Aen. lib. vi. 309 +Compare Apoll. Rhod. lib. iv. 214. + +CANTO IV + +v. 8. A thund'rous sound.] Imitated, as Mr. Thyer has remarked, +by Milton, P. L. b. viii. 242. + But long ere our approaching heard + Noise, other, than the sound of dance or song + Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage. + +v. 50. a puissant one.] Our Saviour. + +v. 75. Honour the bard + Sublime.] + + Onorate l'altissimo poeta. +So Chiabrera, Canz. Eroiche. 32. + Onorando l'altissimo poeta. + +v. 79. Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad.] + She nas to sober ne to glad. + Chaucer's Dream. + +v. 90. The Monarch of sublimest song.] Homer. + +v. 100. Fitter left untold.] + Che'l tacere e bello, +So our Poet, in Canzone 14. + La vide in parte che'l tacere e bello, +Ruccellai, Le Api, 789. + Ch'a dire e brutto ed a tacerlo e bello +And Bembo, + "Vie pui bello e il tacerle, che il favellarne." + Gli. Asol. lib. 1. + +v. 117. Electra.] The daughter of Atlas, and mother of Dardanus +the founder of Troy. See Virg. Aen. b. viii. 134. as referred to +by Dante in treatise "De Monarchia," lib. ii. "Electra, scilicet, +nata magni nombris regis Atlantis, ut de ambobus testimonium +reddit poeta noster in octavo ubi Aeneas ad Avandrum sic ait + "Dardanus Iliacae," &c. + +v. 125. Julia.] The daughter of Julius Caesar, and wife of +Pompey. + +v. 126. The Soldan fierce.] Saladin or Salaheddin, the rival +of Richard coeur de lion. See D'Herbelot, Bibl. Orient. and +Knolles's Hist. of the Turks p. 57 to 73 and the Life of Saladin, +by Bohao'edin Ebn Shedad, published by Albert Schultens, with a +Latin translation. He is introduced by Petrarch in the Triumph of +Fame, c. ii + +v. 128. The master of the sapient throng.] + Maestro di color che sanno. +Aristotle--Petrarch assigns the first place to Plato. See Triumph +of Fame, c. iii. +Pulci, in his Morgante Maggiore, c. xviii. says, + Tu se'il maestro di color che sanno. + +v. 132. Democritus + Who sets the world at chance.] +Democritus,who maintained the world to have been formed by the +fortuitous concourse of atoms. + +v. 140. Avicen.] See D'Herbelot Bibl. Orient. article Sina. He +died in 1050. Pulci here again imitates our poet: + + Avicenna quel che il sentimento + Intese di Aristotile e i segreti, + Averrois che fece il gran comento. + Morg. Mag. c. xxv. + +v. 140. Him who made + That commentary vast, Averroes.] +Averroes, called by the Arabians Roschd, translated and commented +the works of Aristotle. According to Tiraboschi (storia della +Lett. Ital. t. v. 1. ii. c. ii. sect. 4.) he was the source of +modern philosophical impiety. The critic quotes some passages +from Petrarch (Senil. 1. v. ep. iii. et. Oper. v. ii. p. 1143) to +show how strongly such sentiments prevailed in the time of that +poet, by whom they were held in horror and detestation He adds, +that this fanatic admirer of Aristotle translated his writings +with that felicity, which might be expected from one who did not +know a syllable of Greek, and who was therefore compelled to +avail himself of the unfaithful Arabic versions. D'Herbelot, on +the other hand, informs us, that "Averroes was the first who +translated Aristotle from Greek into Arabic, before the Jews had +made their translation: and that we had for a long time no other +text of Aristotle, except that of the Latin translation, which +was made from this Arabic version of this great philosopher +(Averroes), who afterwards added to it a very ample commentary, +of which Thomas Aquinas, and the other scholastic writers, +availed themselves, before the Greek originals of Aristotle and +his commentators were known to us in Europe." According to +D'Herbelot, he died in 1198: but Tiraboschi places that event +about 1206. + +CANTO V + +v. 5. Grinning with ghastly feature.] Hence Milton: + Death + Grinn'd horrible a ghastly smile. + P. L. b. ii. 845. + +v. 46. As cranes.] This simile is imitated by Lorenzo de +Medici, in his Ambra, a poem, first published by Mr. Roscoe, in +the Appendix to his Life of Lorenzo. + Marking the tracts of air, the clamorous cranes + Wheel their due flight in varied ranks descried: + And each with outstretch'd neck his rank maintains + In marshal'd order through th' ethereal void. + Roscoe, v. i. c. v. p. 257. 4to edit. +Compare Homer. Il. iii. 3. Virgil. Aeneid. 1 x. 264, and +Ruccellai, Le Api, 942, and Dante's Purgatory, Canto XXIV. 63. + +v. 96. The land.] Ravenna. + +v. 99 Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt.] + Amor, Ch' al cor gentil ratto s'apprende. +A line taken by Marino, Adone, c. cxli. st. 251. + +v. 102. Love, that denial takes from none belov'd.] + Amor, ch' a null' amato amar perdona. +So Boccacio, in his Filocopo. l.1. + Amore mal non perdono l'amore a nullo amato. +And Pulci, in the Morgante Maggiore, c. iv. + E perche amor mal volontier perdona, + Che non sia al fin sempre amato chi ama. +Indeed many of the Italian poets have repeated this verse. + +v. 105. Caina.] The place to which murderers are doomed. + +v. 113. Francesca.] Francesca, daughter of Guido da Polenta, +lord of Ravenna, was given by her father in marriage to +Lanciotto, son of Malatesta, lord of Rimini, a man of +extraordinary courage, but deformed in his person. His brother +Paolo, who unhappily possessed those graces which the husband of +Francesca wanted, engaged her affections; and being taken in +adultery, they were both put to death by the enraged Lanciotto. +See Notes to Canto XXVII. v. 43 +The whole of this passage is alluded to by Petrarch, in his +Triumph of Love c. iii. + +v. 118. + No greater grief than to remember days + Of joy,xwhen mis'ry is at hand!] +Imitated by Marino: + Che non ha doglia il misero maggiore + Che ricordar la giola entro il dolore. + Adone, c. xiv. st. 100 +And by Fortiguerra: + Rimembrare il ben perduto + Fa piu meschino lo presente stato. + Ricciardetto, c. xi. st. 83. +The original perhaps was in Boetius de Consol. Philosoph. "In +omni adversitate fortunae infelicissimum genus est infortunii +fuisse felicem et non esse." 1. 2. pr. 4 + +v. 124. Lancelot.] One of the Knights of the Round Table, and +the lover of Ginevra, or Guinever, celebrated in romance. The +incident alluded to seems to have made a strong impression on the +imagination of Dante, who introduces it again, less happily, in +the Paradise, Canto XVI. + +v. 128. At one point.] + Questo quel punto fu, che sol mi vinse. + Tasso, Il Torrismondo, a. i. s. 3. + +v. 136. And like a corpse fell to the ground ] + E caddi, come corpo morto cade. +So Pulci: + E cadde come morto in terra cade. +Morgante Maggoire, c. xxii + +CANTO VI + +v. 1. My sense reviving.] + Al tornar della mente, che si chiuse + Dinanzi alla pieta de' duo cognati. +Berni has made a sportive application of these lines, in his Orl. +Inn. l. iii. c. viii. st. 1. + +v. 21. That great worm.] So in Canto XXXIV Lucifer is called + Th' abhorred worm, that boreth through the world. +Ariosto has imitated Dante: + Ch' al gran verme infernal mette la briglia, + E che di lui come a lei par dispone. + Orl. Fur. c. xlvi. st. 76. + +v. 52. Ciacco.] So called from his inordinate appetite: Ciacco, +in Italian, signifying a pig. The real name of this glutton has +not been transmitted to us. He is introduced in Boccaccio's +Decameron, Giorn. ix. Nov. 8. + +v. 61. The divided city.] The city of Florence, divided into +the Bianchi and Neri factions. + +v. 65. The wild party from the woods.] So called, because it +was headed by Veri de' Cerchi, whose family had lately come into +the city from Acone, and the woody country of the Val di Nievole. + +v. 66. The other.] The opposite parts of the Neri, at the head +of which was Corso Donati. + +v. 67. This must fall.] The Bianchi. + +v. 69. Of one, who under shore + Now rests.] +Charles of Valois, by whose means the Neri were replaced. + +v. 73. The just are two in number.] Who these two were, the +commentators are not agreed. + +v. 79. Of Farinata and Tegghiaio.] See Canto X. and Notes, and +Canto XVI, and Notes. + +v. 80. Giacopo.] Giacopo Rusticucci. See Canto XVI, and Notes. + +v. 81. Arrigo, Mosca.] Of Arrigo, who is said by the +commentators to have been of the noble family of the Fifanti, no +mention afterwards occurs. Mosca degli Uberti is introduced in +Canto XXVIII. v. + +108. Consult thy knowledge.] We are referred to the following +passage in St. Augustin:--"Cum fiet resurrectio carnis, et +bonorum gaudia et malorum tormenta majora erunt. "--At the +resurrection of the flesh, both the happiness of the good and the +torments of the wicked will be increased." + +CANTO VII + +v. 1. Ah me! O Satan! Satan!] Pape Satan, Pape Satan, aleppe. +Pape is said by the commentators to be the same as the Latin word +papae! "strange!" Of aleppe they do not give a more +satisfactory account. +See the Life of Benvenuto Cellini, translated by Dr. Nugent, v. +ii. b. iii c. vii. p 113, where he mentions "having heard the +words Paix, paix, Satan! allez, paix! in the court of justice +at Paris. I recollected what Dante said, when he with his master +Virgil entered the gates of hell: for Dante, and Giotto the +painter, were together in France, and visited Paris with +particular attention, where the court of justice may be +considered as hell. Hence it is that Dante, who was likewise +perfect master of the French, made use of that expression, and I +have often been surprised that it was never understood in that +sense." + +v. 12. The first adulterer proud.] Satan. + +v. 22. E'en as a billow.] + As when two billows in the Irish sowndes + Forcibly driven with contrarie tides + Do meet together, each aback rebounds + With roaring rage, and dashing on all sides, + That filleth all the sea with foam, divides + The doubtful current into divers waves. + Spenser, F.Q. b. iv. c. 1. st. 42. + +v. 48. Popes and cardinals.] Ariosto, having personified +Avarice as a strange and hideous monster, says of her-- + Peggio facea nella Romana corte + Che v'avea uccisi Cardinali e Papi. + Orl. Fur. c. xxvi. st. 32. + Worse did she in the court of Rome, for there + She had slain Popes and Cardinals. + +v. 91. By necessity.] This sentiment called forth the +reprehension of Cecco d'Ascoli, in his Acerba, l. 1. c. i. + + In cio peccasti, O Fiorentin poeta, &c. + Herein, O bard of Florence, didst thou err + Laying it down that fortune's largesses + Are fated to their goal. Fortune is none, + That reason cannot conquer. Mark thou, Dante, + If any argument may gainsay this. + +CANTO VIII + +v. 18. Phlegyas.] Phlegyas, who was so incensed against Apollo +for having violated his daughter Coronis, that he set fire to the +temple of that deity, by whose vengeance he was cast into +Tartarus. See Virg. Aen. l. vi. 618. + +v. 59. Filippo Argenti.] Boccaccio tells us, "he was a man +remarkable for the large proportions and extraordinary vigor of +his bodily frame, and the extreme waywardness and irascibility of +his temper." Decam. g. ix. n. 8. + +v. 66. The city, that of Dis is nam'd.] So Ariosto. Orl. Fur. +c. xl. st. 32 + +v. 94. Seven times.] The commentators, says Venturi, perplex +themselves with the inquiry what seven perils these were from +which Dante had been delivered by Virgil. Reckoning the beasts +in the first Canto as one of them, and adding Charon, Minos, +Cerberus, Plutus, Phlegyas and Filippo Argenti, as so many +others, we shall have the number, and if this be not +satisfactory, we may suppose a determinate to have been put for +an indeterminate number. + +v. 109. At war 'twixt will and will not.] + Che si, e no nel capo mi tenzona. +So Boccaccio, Ninf. Fiesol. st. 233. + + Il si e il no nel capo gli contende. +The words I have adopted as a translation, are Shakespeare's, +Measure for Measure. a. ii. s. 1. + +v. 122. This their insolence, not new.] Virgil assures our +poet, that these evil spirits had formerly shown the same +insolence when our Savior descended into hell. They attempted to +prevent him from entering at the gate, over which Dante had read +the fatal inscription. "That gate which," says the Roman poet, +"an angel has just passed, by whose aid we shall overcome this +opposition, and gain admittance into the city." + +CANTO IX + +v. 1. The hue.] Virgil, perceiving that Dante was pale with +fear, restrained those outward tokens of displeasure which his +own countenance had betrayed. + +v. 23. Erictho.] Erictho, a Thessalian sorceress, according to +Lucan, Pharsal. l. vi. was employed by Sextus, son of Pompey the +Great, to conjure up a spirit, who should inform him of the issue +of the civil wars between his father and Caesar. + +v. 25. No long space my flesh + Was naked of me.] + Quae corpus complexa animae tam fortis inane. + Ovid. Met. l. xiii f. 2 +Dante appears to have fallen into a strange anachronism. Virgil's +death did not happen till long after this period. + +v. 42. Adders and cerastes.] + Vipereum crinem vittis innexa cruentis. + Virg. Aen. l. vi. 281. + --spinaque vagi torquente cerastae + . . . et torrida dipsas + Et gravis in geminum vergens eaput amphisbaena. + Lucan. Pharsal. l. ix. 719. +So Milton: + Scorpion and asp, and amphisbaena dire, + Cerastes horn'd, hydrus and elops drear, + And dipsas. + P. L. b. x. 524. + +v. 67. A wind.] Imitated by Berni, Orl. Inn. l. 1. e. ii. st. +6. + +v. 83. With his wand.] + She with her rod did softly smite the raile + Which straight flew ope. + Spenser. F. Q. b. iv. c. iii. st. 46. + +v. 96. What profits at the fays to but the horn.] "Of what +avail can it be to offer violence to impassive beings?" + +v. 97. Your Cerberus.] Cerberus is feigned to have been dragged +by Hercules, bound with a three fold chain, of which, says the +angel, he still bears the marks. + +v. 111. The plains of Arles.] In Provence. See Ariosto, Orl. +Fur. c. xxxix. st. 72 + +v. 112. At Pola.] A city of Istria, situated near the gulf of +Quarnaro, in the Adriatic sea. + +CANTO X + +v. 12. Josaphat.] It seems to have been a common opinion among +the Jews, as well as among many Christians, that the general +judgment will be held in the valley of Josaphat, or Jehoshaphat: +"I will also gather all nations, and will bring them down into +the valley of Jehoshaphat, and will plead with them there for my +people, and for my heritage Israel, whom they have scattered +among the nations, and parted my land." Joel, iii. 2. + +v. 32. Farinata.] Farinata degli Uberti, a noble Florentine, +was the leader of the Ghibelline faction, when they obtained a +signal victory over the Guelfi at Montaperto, near the river +Arbia. Macchiavelli calls him "a man of exalted soul, and great +military talents." Hist. of Flor. b. ii. + +v. 52. A shade.] The spirit of Cavalcante Cavalcanti, a noble +Florentine, of the Guelph party. + +v. 59. My son.] Guido, the son of Cavalcante Cavalcanti; "he +whom I call the first of my friends," says Dante in his Vita +Nuova, where the commencement of their friendship is related. +>From the character given of him by contemporary writers his +temper was well formed to assimilate with that of our poet. "He +was," according to G. Villani, l. viii. c. 41. "of a +philosophical and elegant mind, if he had not been too delicate +and fastidious." And Dino Compagni terms him "a young and noble +knight, brave and courteous, but of a lofty scornful spirit, much +addicted to solitude and study." Muratori. Rer. Ital. Script t. 9 +l. 1. p. 481. He died, either in exile at Serrazana, or soon +after his return to Florence, December 1300, during the spring of +which year the action of this poem is supposed to be passing. +v. 62. Guido thy son + Had in contempt.] +Guido Cavalcanti, being more given to philosophy than poetry, was +perhaps no great admirer of Virgil. Some poetical compositions by +Guido are, however, still extant; and his reputation for skill in +the art was such as to eclipse that of his predecessor and +namesake Guido Guinicelli, as we shall see in the Purgatory, +Canto XI. His "Canzone sopra il Terreno Amore" was thought +worthy of being illustrated by numerous and ample commentaries. +Crescimbeni Ist. della Volg. Poes. l. v. +For a playful sonnet which Dante addressed to him, and a spirited +translation of it, see Hayley's Essay on Epic Poetry, Notes to +Ep. iii. + +v. 66. Saidst thou he had?] In Aeschylus, the shade of Darius +is represented as inquiring with similar anxiety after the fate +of his son Xerxes. + +[GREEK HERE] + +Atossa: Xerxes astonish'd, desolate, alone-- +Ghost of Dar: How will this end? Nay, pause not. Is he safe? + The Persians. Potter's Translation. + +v. 77. Not yet fifty times.] "Not fifty months shall be passed, +before thou shalt learn, by woeful experience, the difficulty of +returning from banishment to thy native city" + +v.83. The slaughter.] "By means of Farinata degli Uberti, the +Guelfi were conquered by the army of King Manfredi, near the +river Arbia, with so great a slaughter, that those who escaped +from that defeat took refuge not in Florence, which city they +considered as lost to them, but in Lucca." Macchiavelli. Hist. +of Flor. b 2. + +v. 86. Such orisons.] This appears to allude to certain prayers +which were offered up in the churches of Florence, for +deliverance from the hostile attempts of the Uberti. + +v. 90. Singly there I stood.] Guido Novello assembled a council +of the Ghibellini at Empoli where it was agreed by all, that, in +order to maintain the ascendancy of the Ghibelline party in +Tuscany, it was necessary to destroy Florence, which could serve +only (the people of that city beingvGuelfi) to enable the party +attached to the church to recover its strength. This cruel +sentence, passed upon so noble a city, met with no opposition +from any of its citizens or friends, except Farinata degli +Uberti, who openly and without reserve forbade the measure, +affirming that he had endured so many hardships, and encountered +so many dangers, with no other view than that of being able to +pass his days in his own country. Macchiavelli. Hist. of Flor. b. +2. + +v. 103. My fault.] Dante felt remorse for not having returned +an immediate answer to the inquiry of Cavalcante, from which +delay he was led to believe that his son Guido was no longer +living. + +v. 120. Frederick.] The Emperor Frederick the Second, who died +in 1250. See Notes to Canto XIII. + +v. 121. The Lord Cardinal.] Ottaviano Ubaldini, a Florentine, +made Cardinal in 1245, and deceased about 1273. On account of +his great influence, he was generally known by the appellation of +"the Cardinal." It is reported of him that he declared, if there +were any such thing as a human soul, he had lost his for the +Ghibellini. + +v. 132. Her gracious beam.] Beatrice. + +CANTO XI + +v. 9. Pope Anastasius.] The commentators are not agreed +concerning the identity of the person, who is here mentioned as a +follower of the heretical Photinus. By some he is supposed to +have been Anastasius the Second, by others, the Fourth of that +name; while a third set, jealous of the integrity of the papal +faith, contend that our poet has confounded him with Anastasius +1. Emperor of the East. + +v. 17. My son.] The remainder of the present Canto may be +considered as a syllabus of the whole of this part of the poem. + +v. 48. And sorrows.] This fine moral, that not to enjoy our +being is to be ungrateful to the Author of it, is well expressed +in Spenser, F. Q. b. iv. c. viii. st. 15. + For he whose daies in wilful woe are worne + The grace of his Creator doth despise, + That will not use his gifts for thankless +nigardise. + +v. 53. Cahors.] A city in Guienne, much frequented by usurers + +v. 83. Thy ethic page.] He refers to Aristotle's Ethics. + +[GREEK HERE] + +"In the next place, entering, on another division of the subject, +let it be defined. that respecting morals there are three sorts +of things to be avoided, malice, incontinence, and brutishness." + +v. 104. Her laws.] Aristotle's Physics. [GREEK +HERE] "Art imitates nature." --See the Coltivazione of Alamanni, +l. i. + + -I'arte umana, &c. + +v. 111. Creation's holy book.] Genesis, c. iii. v. 19. "In the +sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread." + +v. 119. The wain.] The constellation Bootes, or Charles's wain. + +CANTO XII + +v. 17. The king of Athens.] Theseus, who was enabled, by the +instructions of Ariadne, the sister of the Minotaur, to destroy +that monster. + +v. 21. Like to a bull.] [GREEK HERE] Homer Il. xvii 522 + As when some vig'rous youth with sharpen'd axe + A pastur'd bullock smites behind the horns + And hews the muscle through; he, at the stroke + Springs forth and falls. + Cowper's Translation. + +v. 36. He arriv'd.] Our Saviour, who, according to Dante, when +he ascended from hell, carried with him the souls of the +patriarchs, and other just men, out of the first circle. See +Canto IV. + +v. 96. Nessus.] Our poet was probably induced, by the following +line in Ovid, to assign to Nessus the task of conducting them +over the ford: + Nessus edit membrisque valens scitusque vadorum. + Metam, l. ix. +And Ovid's authority was Sophocles, who says of this Centaur-- +[GREEK HERE] Trach.570 + He in his arms, Evenus' stream + Deep flowing, bore the passenger for hire + Without or sail or billow cleaving oar. + +v. 110. Ezzolino.] Ezzolino, or Azzolino di Romano, a most +cruel tyrant in the Marca Trivigiana, Lord of Padua, Vicenza, +Verona, and Brescia, who died in 1260. His atrocities form the +subject of a Latin tragedy, called Eccerinis, by Albertino +Mussato, of Padua, the contemporary of Dante, and the most +elegant writer of Latin verse of that age. See also the +Paradise, Canto IX. Berni Orl. Inn. l ii c. xxv. st. 50. Ariosto. +Orl. Fur. c. iii. st. 33. and Tassoni Secchia Rapita, c. viii. +st 11. + +v. 111. Obizzo' of Este.] Marquis of Ferrara and of the Marca +d'Ancona, was murdered by his own son (whom, for the most +unnatural act Dante calls his step-son), for the sake of the +treasures which his rapacity had amassed. See Ariosto. Orl. Fur. +c. iii. st 32. He died in 1293 according to Gibbon. Ant. of the +House of Brunswick. Posth. Works, v. ii. 4to. + +v. 119. He.] "Henrie, the brother of this Edmund, and son to +the foresaid king of Almaine (Richard, brother of Henry III. of +England) as he returned from Affrike, where he had been with +Prince Edward, was slain at Viterbo in Italy (whither he was come +about business which he had to do with the Pope) by the hand of +Guy de Montfort, the son of Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, +in revenge of the same Simon's death. The murther was committed +afore the high altar, as the same Henrie kneeled there to hear +divine service." A.D. 1272, Holinshed's chronicles p 275. See +also Giov. Villani Hist. I. vii. c. 40. + +v. 135. On Sextus and on Pyrrhus.] Sextus either the son of +Tarquin the Proud, or of Pompey the Great: or as Vellutelli +conjectures, Sextus Claudius Nero, and Pyrrhus king of Epirus. + +v. 137. + The Rinieri, of Corneto this, + Pazzo the other named.] +Two noted marauders, by whose depredations the public ways in +Italy were infested. The latter was of the noble family of Pazzi +in Florence. + +CANTO XIII + +v. 10. Betwixt Corneto and Cecina's stream.] A wild and woody +tract of country, abounding in deer, goats, and wild boars. +Cecina is a river not far to the south of Leghorn, Corneto, a +small city on the same coast in the patrimony of the church. + +v. 12. The Strophades.] See Virg. Aen. l. iii. 210. + +v. 14. Broad are their pennons.] From Virg. Aen. l. iii. 216. + +v. 48. In my verse described.] The commentators explain this, +"If he could have believed, in consequence of my assurances +alone, that of which he hath now had ocular proof, he would not +have stretched forth his hand against thee." But I am of opinion +that Dante makes Virgil allude to his own story of Polydorus in +the third book of the Aeneid. + +v. 56. That pleasant word of thine.] "Since you have inveigled +me to speak my holding forth so gratifying an expectation, let it +not displease you if I am as it were detained in the snare you +have spread for me, so as to be somewhat prolix in my answer." + +v. 60. I it was.] Pietro delle Vigne, a native of Capua, who, +from a low condition, raised himself by his eloquence and legal +knowledge to the office of Chancellor to the Emperor Frederick +II. whose confidence in him was such, that his influence in the +empire became unbounded. The courtiers, envious of his exalted +situation, contrived, by means of forged letters, to make +Frederick believe that he held a secret and traitorous +intercourse with the Pope, who was then at enmity with the +Emperor. In consequence of this supposed crime he was cruelly +condemned by his too credulous sovereign to lose his eyes, and, +being driven to despair by his unmerited calamity and disgrace, +he put an end to his life by dashing out his brains against the +walls of a church, in the year 1245. Both Frederick and Pietro +delle Vigne composed verses in the Sicilian dialect which are yet +extant. + +v. 67. The harlot.] Envy. Chaucer alludes to this in the +Prologue to the Legende of Good women. + Envie is lavender to the court alway, + For she ne parteth neither night ne day + Out of the house of Cesar; thus saith Dant. + +v. 119. Each fan o' th' wood.] Hence perhaps Milton: + Leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan. + P. L. b. v. 6. + +v. 122. Lano.] Lano, a Siennese, who, being reduced by +prodigality to a state of extreme want, found his existence no +longer supportable; and, having been sent by his countrymen on a +military expedition, to assist the Florentine against the +Aretini, took that opportunity of exposing himself to certain +death, in the engagement which took place at Toppo near Arezzo. +See G. Villani, Hist. l. 7. c. cxix. + +v. 133. O Giocomo + Of Sant' Andrea!] +Jacopo da Sant' Andrea, a Paduan, who, having wasted his property +in the most wanton acts of profusion, killed himself in despair. +v. 144. In that City.] "I was an inhabitant of Florence, that +city which changed her first patron Mars for St. John the +Baptist, for which reason the vengeance of the deity thus +slighted will never be appeased: and, if some remains of his +status were not still visible on the bridge over the Arno, she +would have been already leveled to the ground; and thus the +citizens, who raised her again from the ashes to which Attila had +reduced her, would have laboured in vain." See Paradise, Canto +XVI. 44. +The relic of antiquity to which the superstition of Florence +attached so high an importance, was carried away by a flood, that +destroyed the bridge on which it stood, in the year 1337, but +without the ill effects that were apprehended from the loss of +their fancied Palladium. + +v. 152. I slung the fatal noose.] We are not informed who this +suicide was. + + +CANTO XIV + +v. 15. By Cato's foot.] See Lucan, Phars, l. 9. + +v. 26. Dilated flakes of fire.] Compare Tasso. G. L. c. x. st. +61. + +v. 28. As, in the torrid Indian clime.] Landino refers to +Albertus Magnus for the circumstance here alluded to. + +v. 53. In Mongibello.] + More hot than Aetn' or flaming Mongibell. + Spenser, F. Q. b. ii. c. ix. st. 29. +See Virg. Aen. 1. viii. 416. and Berni. Orl. Inn 1. i. c. xvi. +st. 21. It would be endless to refer to parallel passages in the +Greek writers. + +v. 64. This of the seven kings was one.] Compare Aesch. Seven +Chiefs, 425. Euripides, Phoen. 1179 and Statius. Theb. l. x. +821. + +v. 76. Bulicame.] A warm medicinal spring near Viterbo, the +waters of which, as Landino and Vellutelli affirm, passed by a +place of ill fame. Venturi, with less probability, conjectures +that Dante would imply, that it was the scene of much licentious +merriment among those who frequented its baths. + +v. 91. Under whose monarch.] + Credo pudicitiam Saturno rege moratam + In terris. + Juv. Satir. vi. + +v. 102. His head.] Daniel, ch. ii. 32, 33. + +v. 133. Whither.] On the other side of Purgatory. + +CANTO XV + + v. 10. Chiarentana.] A part of the Alps where the Brenta +rises, which river is much swoln as soon as the snow begins to +dissolve on the mountains. + +v. 28. Brunetto.] "Ser Brunetto, a Florentine, the secretary or +chancellor of the city, and Dante's preceptor, hath left us a +work so little read, that both the subject of it and the language +of it have been mistaken. It is in the French spoken in the +reign of St. Louis,under the title of Tresor, and contains a +species of philosophical course of lectures divided into theory +and practice, or, as he expresses it, "un enchaussement des +choses divines et humaines," &c. Sir R. Clayton's Translation of +Tenhove's Memoirs of the Medici, vol. i. ch. ii. p. 104. The +Tresor has never been printed in the original language. There is +a fine manuscript of it in the British Museum, with an +illuminated portrait of Brunetto in his study prefixed. Mus. +Brit. MSS. 17, E. 1. Tesor. It is divided into four books, the +first, on Cosmogony and Theology, the second, a translation of +Aristotle's Ethics; the third on Virtues and Vices; the fourth, +on Rhetoric. For an interesting memoir relating to this work, +see Hist. de l'Acad. des Inscriptions, tom. vii. 296. His +Tesoretto, one of the earliest productions of Italian poetry, is +a curious work, not unlike the writings of Chaucer in style and +numbers, though Bembo remarks, that his pupil, however largely he +had stolen from it, could not have much enriched himself. As it +is perhaps but little known, I will here add a slight sketch of +it. + +Brunetto describes himself as returning from an embassy to the +King of Spain, on which he had been sent by the Guelph party from +Florence. On the plain of Roncesvalles he meets a scholar on a +bay mule, who tells him that the Guelfi are driven out of the +city with great loss. + +Struck with grief at these mournful tidings, and musing with his +head bent downwards, he loses his road, and wanders into a wood. +Here Nature, whose figure is described with sublimity, appears, +and discloses to him the secrets of her operations. After this +he wanders into a desert; but at length proceeds on his way, +under the protection of a banner, with which Nature had furnished +him, till on the third day he finds himself in a large pleasant +champaign, where are assembled many emperors, kings, and sages. +It is the habitation of Virtue and her daughters, the four +Cardinal Virtues. Here Brunetto sees also Courtesy, Bounty, +Loyalty, and Prowess, and hears the instructions they give to a +knight, which occupy about a fourth part of the poem. Leaving +this territory, he passes over valleys, mountains, woods, +forests, and bridges, till he arrives in a beautiful valley +covered with flowers on all sides, and the richest in the world; +but which was continually shifting its appearance from a round +figure to a square, from obscurity to light, and from +populousness to solitude. This is the region of Pleasure, or +Cupid, who is accompanied by four ladies, Love, Hope, Fear, and +Desire. In one part of it he meets with Ovid, and is instructed +by him how to conquer the passion of love, and to escape from +that place. After his escape he makes his confession to a friar, +and then returns to the forest of visions: and ascending a +mountain, he meets with Ptolemy, a venerable old man. Here the +narrative breaks off. The poem ends, as it began, with an +address to Rustico di Filippo, on whom he lavishes every sort of +praise. + +It has been observed, that Dante derived the idea of opening his +poem by describing himself as lost in a wood, from the Tesoretto +of his master. I know not whether it has been remarked, that the +crime of usury is branded by both these poets as offensive to God +and Nature: or that the sin for which Brunetto is condemned by +his pupil, is mentioned in the Tesoretto with great horror. +Dante's twenty-fifth sonnet is a jocose one, addressed to +Brunetto. He died in 1295. + +v. 62. Who in old times came down from Fesole.] See G. Villani +Hist. l. iv. c. 5. and Macchiavelli Hist. of Flor. b. ii. + +v. 89. With another text.] He refers to the prediction of +Farinata, in Canto X. + +v. 110. Priscian.] There is no reason to believe, as the +commentators observe that the grammarian of this name was stained +with the vice imputed to him; and we must therefore suppose that +Dante puts the individual for the species, and implies the +frequency of the crime among those who abused the opportunities +which the education of youth afforded them, to so abominable a +purpose. + +v. 111. Francesco.] Son of Accorso, a Florentine, celebrated +for his skill in jurisprudence, and commonly known by the name of +Accursius. + +v. 113. Him.] Andrea de' Mozzi, who, that his scandalous life +might be less exposed to observation, was translated either by +Nicholas III, or Boniface VIII from the see of Florence to that +of Vicenza, through which passes the river Baccchiglione. At the +latter of these places he died. + +v. 114. The servants' servant.] Servo de' servi. So Ariosto, +Sat. 3. + Degli servi + Io sia il gran servo. + +v. 124. I commend my Treasure to thee.] Brunetto's great work, +the Tresor. +Sieti raccomandato 'l mio Tesoro. +So Giusto de' Conti, in his Bella Mano, Son. "Occhi:" + Siavi raccommandato il mio Tesoro. + +CANTO XVI + +v. 38. Gualdrada.] Gualdrada was the daughter of Bellincione +Berti, of whom mention is made in the Paradise, Canto XV, and +XVI. He was of the family of Ravignani, a branch of the Adimari. + +The Emperor Otho IV. being at a festival in Florence, where +Gualdrada was present, was struck with her beauty; and inquiring +who she was, was answered by Bellincione, that she was the +daughter of one who, if it was his Majesty's pleasure, would make +her admit the honour of his salute. On overhearing this, she +arose from her seat, and blushing, in an animated tone of voice, +desired her father that he would not be so liberal in his offers, +for that no man should ever be allowed that freedom, except him +who should be her lawful husband. The Emperor was not less +delighted by her resolute modesty than he had before been by the +loveliness of her person, and calling to him Guido, one of his +barons, gave her to him in marriage, at the same time raising him + +to the rank of a count, and bestowing on her the whole of +Casentino, and a part of the territory of Romagna, as her +portion. Two sons were the offspring of this union, Guglielmo +and Ruggieri, the latter of whom was father of Guidoguerra, a man +of great military skill and prowess who, at the head of four +hundred Florentines of the Guelph party, was signally +instrumental to the victory obtained at Benevento by Charles of +Anjou, over Manfredi, King of Naples, in 1265. One of the +consequences of this victory was the expulsion of the Ghibellini, +and the re-establishment of the Guelfi at Florence. + +v. 39. Many a noble act.] Compare Tasso, G. L. c. i. st. 1. + +v. 42. Aldobrandiu] Tegghiaio Aldobrandi was of the noble +family of Adimari, and much esteemed for his military talents. +He endeavored to dissuade the Florentines from the attack, which +they meditated against the Siennese, and the rejection of his +counsel occasioned the memorable defeat, which the former +sustained at Montaperto, and the consequent banishment of the +Guelfi from Florence. + +v. 45. Rusticucci.] Giacopo Rusticucci, a Florentine, +remarkable for his opulence and the generosity of his spirit. + +v. 70. Borsiere.] Guglielmo Borsiere, another Florentine, whom +Boccaccio, in a story which he relates of him, terms "a man of +courteous and elegant manners, and of great readiness in +conversation." Dec. Giorn. i. Nov. 8. + +v. 84. When thou with pleasure shalt retrace the past.] + Quando ti giovera dicere io fui. +So Tasso, G. L. c. xv. st. 38. + Quando mi giovera narrar altrui + Le novita vedute, e dire; io fui. + +v. 121. Ever to that truth.] This memorable apophthegm is +repeated by Luigi Pulci and Trissino. + + Sempre a quel ver, ch' ha faccia di menzogna + E piu senno tacer la lingua cheta + Che spesso senza colpa fa vergogna. + Morgante. Magg. c. xxiv. + + La verita, che par mensogna + Si dovrebbe tacer dall' uom ch'e saggio. + Italia. Lib. C. xvi. + +CANTO XVII + +v. 1. The fell monster.] Fraud. + +v. 53. A pouch.] A purse, whereon the armorial bearings of each +were emblazoned. According to Landino, our poet implies that the +usurer can pretend to no other honour, than such as he derives +from his purse and his family. + +v. 57. A yellow purse.] The arms of the Gianfigliazzi of +Florence. + +v. 60. Another.] Those of the Ubbriachi, another Florentine +family of high distinction. + +v. 62. A fat and azure swine.] The arms of the Scrovigni a +noble family of Padua. + +v. 66. Vitaliano.] Vitaliano del Dente, a Paduan. + +v. 69. That noble knight.] Giovanni Bujamonti, a Florentine +usurer, the most infamous of his time. + +CANTO XVIII + +v. 28. With us beyond.] Beyond the middle point they tended the +same way with us, but their pace was quicker than ours. + +v. 29. E'en thus the Romans.] In the year 1300, Pope Boniface +VIII., to remedy the inconvenience occasioned by the press of +people who were passing over the bridge of St. Angelo during the +time of the Jubilee, caused it to be divided length wise by a +partition, and ordered, that all those who were going to St. +Peter's should keep one side, and those returning the other. + +v. 50. Venedico.] Venedico Caccianimico, a Bolognese, who +prevailed on his sister Ghisola to prostitute herself to Obizzo +da Este, Marquis of Ferrara, whom we have seen among the +tyrants, Canto XII. + +v. 62. To answer Sipa.] He denotes Bologna by its situation +between the rivers Savena to the east, and Reno to the west of +that city; and by a peculiarity of dialect, the use of the +affirmative sipa instead of si. + +v. 90. Hypsipyle.] See Appolonius Rhodius, l. i. and Valerius +Flaccus l.ii. Hypsipyle deceived the other women by concealing +her father Thoas, when they had agreed to put all their males to +death. + +v. 120. Alessio.] Alessio, of an ancient and considerable +family in Lucca, called the Interminei. + +v. 130. Thais.] He alludes to that passage in the Eunuchus of +Terence where Thraso asks if Thais was obliged to him for the +present he had sent her, and Gnatho replies, that she had +expressed her obligation in the most forcible terms. + T. Magnas vero agere gratias Thais mihi? + G. Ingentes. + Eun. a. iii. s. i. + +CANTO XIX + +v. 18. Saint John's fair dome.] The apertures in the rock were +of the same dimensions as the fonts of St. John the Baptist at +Florence, one of which, Dante says he had broken, to rescue a +child that was playing near and fell in. He intimates that the +motive of his breaking the font had been maliciously represented +by his enemies. + +v. 55. O Boniface!] The spirit mistakes Dante for Boniface +VIII. who was then alive, and who he did not expect would have +arrived so soon, in consequence, as it should seem, of a +prophecy, which predicted the death of that Pope at a later +period. Boniface died in 1303. + +v. 58. In guile.] "Thou didst presume to arrive by fraudulent +means at the papal power, and afterwards to abuse it." + +v. 71. In the mighty mantle I was rob'd.] Nicholas III, of the +Orsini family, whom the poet therefore calls "figliuol dell' +orsa," "son of the she-bear." He died in 1281. + +v. 86. From forth the west, a shepherd without law.] Bertrand +de Got Archbishop of Bordeaux, who succeeded to the pontificate +in 1305, and assumed the title of Clement V. He transferred the +holy see to Avignon in 1308 (where it remained till 1376), and +died in 1314. + +v. 88. A new Jason.] See Maccabees, b. ii. c. iv. 7,8. + +v. 97. Nor Peter.] Acts of the Apostles, c.i. 26. + +v. 100. The condemned soul.] Judas. + +v. 103. Against Charles.] Nicholas III. was enraged against +Charles I, King of Sicily, because he rejected with scorn a +proposition made by that Pope for an alliance between their +families. See G. Villani, Hist. l. vii. c. liv. + +v. 109. Th' Evangelist.] Rev. c. xvii. 1, 2, 3. Compare +Petrarch. Opera fol. ed. Basil. 1551. Epist. sine titulo liber. +ep. xvi. p. 729. + +v. 118. Ah, Constantine.] He alludes to the pretended gift of +the Lateran by Constantine to Silvester, of which Dante himself +seems to imply a doubt, in his treatise "De Monarchia." - "Ergo +scindere Imperium, Imperatori non licet. Si ergo aliquae, +dignitates per Constantinum essent alienatae, (ut dicunt) ab +Imperio," &c. l. iii. +The gift is by Ariosto very humorously placed in the moon, among +the things lost or abused on earth. + Di varj fiori, &c. + O. F. c. xxxiv. st. 80. + +Milton has translated both this passage and that in the text. +Prose works, vol. i. p. 11. ed. 1753. + +CANTO XX + +v. 11. Revers'd.] Compare Spenser, F. Q. b. i. c. viii. st. 31 + +v. 30. Before whose eyes.] Amphiaraus, one of the seven kings +who besieged Thebes. He is said to have been swallowed up by an +opening of the earth. See Lidgate's Storie of Thebes, Part III +where it is told how the "Bishop Amphiaraus" fell down to hell. + And thus the devill for his outrages, + Like his desert payed him his wages. +A different reason for his being doomed thus to perish is +assigned by Pindar. +[GREEK HERE] + Nem ix. + + For thee, Amphiaraus, earth, + By Jove's all-riving thunder cleft + Her mighty bosom open'd wide, + Thee and thy plunging steeds to hide, + Or ever on thy back the spear + Of Periclymenus impress'd + A wound to shame thy warlike breast + For struck with panic fear + The gods' own children flee. + +v. 37. Tiresias.] + Duo magnorum viridi coeuntia sylva + Corpora serpentum baculi violaverat ictu, &c. + Ovid. Met. iii. + +v. 43. Aruns.] Aruns is said to have dwelt in the mountains of +Luni (from whence that territory is still called Lunigiana), +above Carrara, celebrated for its marble. Lucan. Phars. l. i. +575. So Boccaccio in the Fiammetta, l. iii. "Quale Arunte," &c. + +"Like Aruns, who amidst the white marbles of Luni, contemplated +the celestial bodies and their motions." + +v. 50. Manto.] The daughter of Tiresias of Thebes, a city +dedicated to Bacchus. From Manto Mantua, the country of Virgil +derives its name. The Poet proceeds to describe the situation of +that place. + +v. 61. Between the vale.] The lake Benacus, now called the +Lago di Garda, though here said to lie between Garda, Val +Camonica, and the Apennine, is, however, very distant from the +latter two + +v. 63. There is a spot.] Prato di Fame, where the dioceses of +Trento, Verona, and Brescia met. + +v. 69. Peschiera.] A garrison situated to the south of the +lake, where it empties itself and forms the Mincius. + +v. 94. Casalodi's madness.] Alberto da Casalodi, who had got +possession of Mantua, was persuaded by Pinamonte Buonacossi, that +he might ingratiate himself with the people by banishing to their + +own castles the nobles, who were obnoxious to them. No sooner +was this done, than Pinamonte put himself at the head of the +populace, drove out Casalodi and his adherents, and obtained the +sovereignty for himself. + +v. 111. So sings my tragic strain.] + Suspensi Eurypilum scitatum oracula Phoebi + Mittimus. + Virg. Aeneid. ii. 14. + +v. 115. Michael Scot.] Sir Michael Scott, of Balwearie, +astrologer to the Emperor Frederick II. lived in the thirteenth +century. For further particulars relating to this singular man, +see Warton's History of English Poetry, vol. i. diss. ii. and +sect. ix. p 292, and the Notes to Mr. Scott's "Lay of the Last +Minstrel," a poem in which a happy use is made of the traditions +that are still current in North Britain concerning him. He is +mentioned by G. Villani. Hist. l. x. c. cv. and cxli. and l. xii. +c. xviii. and by Boccaccio, Dec. Giorn. viii. Nov. 9. + +v. 116. Guido Bonatti.] An astrologer of Forli, on whose skill +Guido da Montefeltro, lord of that place, so much relied, that he +is reported never to have gone into battle, except in the hour +recommended to him as fortunate by Bonatti. + +Landino and Vellutello, speak of a book, which he composed on the +subject of his art. + +v. 116. Asdente.] A shoemaker at Parma, who deserted his +business to practice the arts of divination. + +v. 123. Cain with fork of thorns.] By Cain and the thorns, or +what is still vulgarly called the Man in the Moon, the Poet +denotes that luminary. The same superstition is alluded to in +the Paradise, Canto II. 52. The curious reader may consult Brand +on Popular Antiquities, 4to. 1813. vol. ii. p. 476. + +CANTO XXI + +v. 7. In the Venetians' arsenal.] Compare Ruccellai, Le Api, +165, and Dryden's Annus Mirabilis, st. 146, &c. + +v. 37. One of Santa Zita's elders.] The elders or chief +magistrates of Lucca, where Santa Zita was held in especial +veneration. The name of this sinner is supposed to have been +Martino Botaio. + +v. 40. Except Bonturo, barterers.] This is said ironically of +Bonturo de' Dati. By barterers are meant peculators, of every +description; all who traffic the interests of the public for +their own private advantage. + +v. 48. Is other swimming than in Serchio's wave.] + Qui si nuota altrimenti che nel Serchio. +Serchio is the river that flows by Lucca. So Pulci, Morg. Mag. +c. xxiv. + Qui si nuota nel sangue, e non nel Serchio. + +v. 92. From Caprona.] The surrender of the castle of Caprona to +the combined forces of Florence and Lucca, on condition that the +garrison should march out in safety, to which event Dante was a +witness, took place in 1290. See G. Villani, Hist. l. vii. c. +136. + +v. 109. Yesterday.] This passage fixes the era of Dante's +descent at Good Friday, in the year 1300 (34 years from our +blessed Lord's incarnation being added to 1266), and at the +thirty-fifth year of our poet's age. See Canto I. v. 1. + +The awful event alluded to, the Evangelists inform us, happened +"at the ninth hour," that is, our sixth, when "the rocks were +rent," and the convulsion, according to Dante, was felt even in +the depths in Hell. See Canto XII. 38. + +CANTO XXII + +v. 16. In the church.] This proverb is repeated by Pulci, Morg. +Magg. c. xvii. + +v. 47. Born in Navarre's domain.] The name of this peculator is +said to have been Ciampolo. + +v. 51. The good king Thibault.] "Thibault I. king of Navarre, +died on the 8th of June, 1233, as much to be commended for the +desire he showed of aiding the war in the Holy Land, as +reprehensible and faulty for his design of oppressing the rights +and privileges of the church, on which account it is said that +the whole kingdom was under an interdict for the space of three +entire years. Thibault undoubtedly merits praise, as for his +other endowments, so especially for his cultivation of the +liberal arts, his exercise and knowledge of music and poetry in +which he much excelled, that he was accustomed to compose verses +and sing them to the viol, and to exhibit his poetical +compositions publicly in his palace, that they might be +criticized by all." Mariana, History of Spain, b. xiii. c. 9. + +An account of Thibault, and two of his songs, with what were +probably the original melodies, may be seen in Dr. Burney's +History of Music, v. ii. c. iv. His poems, which are in the +French language, were edited by M. l'Eveque de la Ravalliere. +Paris. 1742. 2 vol. 12mo. Dante twice quotes one of his verses +in the Treatise de Vulg. Eloq. l. i. c. ix. and l. ii. c. v. and +refers to him again, l. ii. c. vi. + +From "the good king Thibault" are descended the good, but more +unfortunate monarch, Louis XVI. of France, and consequently the +present legitimate sovereign of that realm. See Henault, Abrege +Chron. 1252, 2, 4. + +v. 80. The friar Gomita.] He was entrusted by Nino de' Visconti +with the government of Gallura, one of the four jurisdictions +into which Sardinia was divided. Having his master's enemies in +his power, he took a bribe from them, and allowed them to escape. +Mention of Nino will recur in the Notes to Canto XXXIII. and in +the Purgatory, Canto VIII. + +v. 88. Michel Zanche.] The president of Logodoro, another of +the four Sardinian jurisdictions. See Canto XXXIII. + +CANTO XXIII + +v. 5. Aesop's fable.] The fable of the frog, who offered to +carry the mouse across a ditch, with the intention of drowning +him when both were carried off by a kite. It is not among those +Greek Fables which go under the name of Aesop. + +v. 63. Monks in Cologne.] They wore their cowls unusually +large. +v. 66. Frederick's.] The Emperor Frederick II. is said to have +punished those who were guilty of high treason, by wrapping them +up in lead, and casting them into a furnace. + +v. 101. Our bonnets gleaming bright with orange hue.] It is +observed by Venturi, that the word "rance" does not here signify +"rancid or disgustful," as it is explained by the old +commentators, but "orange-coloured," in which sense it occurs in +the Purgatory, Canto II. 9. + +v. 104. Joyous friars.] "Those who ruled the city of Florence +on the part of the Ghibillines, perceiving this discontent and +murmuring, which they were fearful might produce a rebellion +against themselves, in order to satisfy the people, made choice +of two knights, Frati Godenti (joyous friars) of Bologna, on whom +they conferred the chief power in Florence. One named M. +Catalano de' Malavolti, the other M. Loderingo di Liandolo; one +an adherent of the Guelph, the other of the Ghibelline party. It +is to be remarked, that the Joyous Friars were called Knights of +St. Mary, and became knights on taking that habit: their robes +were white, the mantle sable, and the arms a white field and red +cross with two stars. Their office was to defend widows and +orphans; they were to act as mediators; they had internal +regulations like other religious bodies. The above-mentioned M. +Loderingo was the founder of that order. But it was not long +before they too well deserved the appellation given them, and +were found to be more bent on enjoying themselves than on any +other subject. These two friars were called in by the +Florentines, and had a residence assigned them in the palace +belonging to the people over against the Abbey. Such was the +dependence placed on the character of their order that it was +expected they would be impartial, and would save the commonwealth +any unnecessary expense; instead of which, though inclined to +opposite parties, they secretly and hypocritically concurred in +promoting their own advantage rather than the public good." G. +Villani, b. vii. c.13. This happened in 1266. + +v. 110. Gardingo's vicinage.] The name of that part of the city +which was inhabited by the powerful Ghibelline family of Uberti, +and destroyed under the partial and iniquitous administration of +Catalano and Loderingo. + +v. 117. That pierced spirit.] Caiaphas. + +v. 124. The father of his consort.] Annas, father-in-law to +Caiaphas. + +v. 146. He is a liar.] John, c. viii. 44. Dante had perhaps +heard this text from one of the pulpits in Bologna. + +CANTO XXIV + + v. 1. In the year's early nonage.] "At the latter part of +January, when the sun enters into Aquarius, and the equinox is +drawing near, when the hoar-frosts in the morning often wear the +appearance of snow but are melted by the rising sun." + +v. 51. Vanquish thy weariness.] + Quin corpus onustum + Hesternis vitiis animum quoque praegravat una, + Atque affigit humi divinae particulam aurae. + Hor. Sat. ii. l. ii. 78. + +v. 82. Of her sands.] Compare Lucan, Phars. l. ix. 703. + +v. 92. Heliotrope.] The occult properties of this stone are +described by Solinus, c. xl, and by Boccaccio, in his humorous +tale of Calandrino. Decam. G. viii. N. 3. + +In Chiabrera's Ruggiero, Scaltrimento begs of Sofia, who is +sending him on a perilous errand, to lend him the heliotrope. + In mia man fida + L'elitropia, per cui possa involarmi + Secondo il mio talento agli occhi altrui. + c. vi. + Trust to my hand the heliotrope, by which + I may at will from others' eyes conceal me +Compare Ariosto, II Negromante, a. 3. s. 3. Pulci, Morg. Magg. +c xxv. and Fortiguerra, Ricciardetto, c. x. st. 17. +Gower in his Confessio Amantis, lib. vii, enumerates it among the +jewels in the diadem of the sun. + Jaspis and helitropius. + +v. 104. The Arabian phoenix.] This is translated from Ovid, +Metam. l. xv. + Una est quae reparat, seque ipsa reseminat ales, +&c. +See also Petrarch, Canzone: + + "Qual piu," &c. + +v. 120. Vanni Fucci.] He is said to have been an illegitimate +offspring of the family of Lazari in Pistoia, and, having robbed +the sacristy of the church of St. James in that city, to have +charged Vanni della Nona with the sacrilege, in consequence of +which accusation the latter suffered death. + +v. 142. Pistoia.] "In May 1301, the Bianchi party, of Pistoia, +with the assistance and favor of the Bianchi who ruled Florence, +drove out the Neri party from the former place, destroying their +houses, Palaces and farms." Giov. Villani, Hist. l. viii. e +xliv. + +v. 144. From Valdimagra.] The commentators explain this +prophetical threat to allude to the victory obtained by the +Marquis Marcello Malaspina of Valdimagra (a tract of country now +called the Lunigiana) 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. + +Of this engagement I find no mention in Villani. Currado +Malaspina is introduced in the eighth Canto of Purgatory; where +it appears that, although on the present occaision they espoused +contrary sides, some important favours were nevertheless +conferred by that family on our poet at a subsequent perid of his +exile in 1307. + + + +Canto XXV + +v.1. The sinner ] So Trissino + Poi facea con le man le fiche al cielo + Dicendo: Togli, Iddio; che puoi piu farmi? + L'ital. Lib. c. xii + +v. 12. Thy seed] Thy ancestry. + +v. 15. Not him] Capanaeus. Canto XIV. + +v. 18. On Marenna's marsh.] An extensive tract near the +sea-shore in Tuscany. + +v. 24. Cacus.] Virgil, Aen. l. viii. 193. + +v. 31. A hundred blows.] Less than ten blows, out of the +hundred Hercules gave him, deprived him of feeling. + +v. 39. Cianfa] He is said to have been of the family of Donati +at Florence. + +v. 57. Thus up the shrinking paper.] + --All my bowels crumble up to dust. + I am a scribbled form, drawn up with a pen + Upon a parchment; and against this fire + Do I shrink up. + Shakespeare, K. John, a. v. s. 7. + +v. 61. Agnello.] Agnello Brunelleschi + +v. 77. In that part.] The navel. + +v. 81. As if by sleep or fev'rous fit assail'd.] + O Rome! thy head + Is drown'd in sleep, and all thy body fev'ry. + Ben Jonson's Catiline. + +v. 85. Lucan.] Phars. l. ix. 766 and 793. + +v. 87. Ovid.] Metam. l. iv. and v. + +v. 121. His sharpen'd visage.] Compare Milton, P. L. b. x. 511 +&c. + +v. 131. Buoso.] He is said to have been of the Donati family. + +v. 138. Sciancato.] Puccio Sciancato, a noted robber, whose +familly, Venturi says, he has not been able to discover. + +v. 140. Gaville.] Francesco Guercio Cavalcante was killed at +Gaville, near Florence; and in revenge of his death several +inhabitants of that district were put to death. + +CANTO XXVI + +v. 7. But if our minds.] + + Namque sub Auroram, jam dormitante lucerna, + Somnia quo cerni tempore vera solent. + Ovid, Epist. xix + +The same poetical superstition is alluded to in the Purgatory, +Cant. IX. and XXVII. + +v. 9. Shall feel what Prato.] The poet prognosticates the +calamities which were soon to befal his native city, and which he +says, even her nearest neighbor, Prato, would wish her. The +calamities more particularly pointed at, are said to be the fall +of a wooden bridge over the Arno, in May, 1304, where a large +multitude were assembled to witness a representation of hell nnd +the infernal torments, in consequence of which accident many +lives were lost; and a conflagration that in the following month +destroyed more than seventeen hundred houses, many ofthem +sumptuous buildings. See G. Villani, Hist. l. viii. c. 70 and +71. + +v. 22. More than I am wont.] "When I reflect on the punishment +allotted to those who do not give sincere and upright advice to +others I am more anxious than ever not to abuse to so bad a +purpose those talents, whatever they may be, which Nature, or +rather Providence, has conferred on me." It is probable that +this declaration was the result of real feeling Textd have +given great weight to +any opinion or party he had espoused, and to whom indigence and +exile might have offerred strong temptations to deviate from that +line of conduct which a strict sense of duty prescribed. + +v. 35. as he, whose wrongs.] Kings, b. ii. c. ii. + +v. 54. ascending from that funeral pile.] The flame is said to +have divided on the funeral pile which consumed tile bodies of +Eteocles and Polynices, as if conscious of the enmity that +actuated them while living. + Ecce iterum fratris, &c. + Statius, Theb. l. xii. + Ostendens confectas flamma, &c. + Lucan, Pharsal. l. 1. 145. + +v. 60. The ambush of the horse.] "The ambush of the wooden +horse, that caused Aeneas to quit the city of Troy and seek his +fortune in Italy, where his descendants founded the Roman +empire." + +v. 91. Caieta.] Virgil, Aeneid. l. vii. 1. + +v. 93. Nor fondness for my son] Imitated hp Tasso, G. L. c. +viii. + Ne timor di fatica o di periglio, + Ne vaghezza del regno, ne pietade + Del vecchio genitor, si degno affetto + Intiepedir nel generoso petto. +This imagined voyage of Ulysses into the Atlantic is alluded to +by Pulci. + E sopratutto commendava Ulisse, + Che per veder nell' altro mondo gisse. + Morg. Magg. c. xxv +And by Tasso, G. L. c. xv. 25. + +v. 106. The strait pass.] The straits of Gibraltar. + +v. 122. Made our oars wings.l So Chiabrera, Cant. Eroiche. xiii + Faro de'remi un volo. +And Tasso Ibid. 26. + +v. 128. A mountain dim.] The mountain of Purgatorg + +CANTO XXVII. + +v. 6. The Sicilian Bull.] The engine of torture invented by +Perillus, for the tyrant Phalaris. + +v. 26. Of the mountains there.] Montefeltro. + +v. 38. Polenta's eagle.] Guido Novello da Polenta, who bore an +eagle for his coat of arms. The name of Polenta was derived from +a castle so called in the neighbourhood of Brittonoro. Cervia is +a small maritime city, about fifteen miles to the south of +Ravenna. Guido was the son of Ostasio da Polenta, and made +himself master of Ravenna, in 1265. In 1322 he was deprived of +his sovereignty, and died at Bologna in the year following. This +last and most munificent patron of Dante is himself enumerated, +by the historian of Italian literature, among the poets of his +time. Tiraboschi, Storia della Lett. Ital. t. v. 1. iii. c. ii. +13. The passnge in the text might have removed the uncertainty +wwhich Tiraboschi expressed, respecting the duration of Guido's +absence from Ravenna, when he was driven from that city in 1295, +by the arms of Pietro, archbishop of Monreale. It must evidently +have been very short, since his government is here represented +(in 1300) as not having suffered any material disturbance for +many years. + +v. 41. The land.l The territory of Forli, the inhabitants of +which, in 1282, mere enabled, hy the strategem of Guido da +Montefeltro, who then governed it, to defeat with great +slaughter the French army by which it had been besieged. See G. +Villani, l. vii. c. 81. The poet informs Guido, its former +ruler, that it is now in the possession of Sinibaldo Ordolaffi, +or Ardelaffi, whom he designates by his coat of arms, a lion +vert. + +v. 43. The old mastiff of Verucchio and the young.] Malatesta +and Malatestino his son, lords of Rimini, called, from their +ferocity, the mastiffs of Verruchio, which was the name of their +castle. + +v. 44. Montagna.] Montagna de'Parcitati, a noble knight, and +leader of the Ghibelline party at Rimini, murdered by +Malatestino. + +v. 46. Lamone's city and Santerno's.] Lamone is the river at +Faenza, and Santerno at Imola. + +v. 47. The lion of the snowy lair.] Machinardo Pagano, whose +arms were a lion azure on a field argent; mentioned again in the +Purgatory, Canto XIV. 122. See G. Villani passim, where he is +called Machinardo da Susinana. + +v. 50. Whose flank is wash'd of SSavio's wave.] Cesena, +situated at the foot of a mountain, and washed by the river +Savio, that often descends with a swoln and rapid stream from the +Appenine. + +v. 64. A man of arms.] Guido da Montefeltro. + +v. 68. The high priest.] Boniface VIII. + +v. 72. The nature of the lion than the fox.] + Non furon leonine ma di volpe. +So Pulci, Morg. Magg. c. xix. + + E furon le sua opre e le sue colpe + Non creder leonine ma di volpe. + +v. 81. The chief of the new Pharisee.] Boniface VIII. whose +enmity to the family of Colonna prompted him to destroy their +houses near the Lateran. Wishing to obtain possession of their +other seat, Penestrino, he consulted with Guido da Montefeltro +how he might accomplish his purpose, offering him at the same +time absolution for his past sins, as well as for that which he +was then tempting him to commit. Guido's advice was, that kind +words and fair promises nonld put his enemies into his power; and +they accordingly soon aftermards fell into the snare laid for +them, A.D. 1298. See G. Villani, l. viii. c. 23. + +v. 84. Nor against Acre one + Had fought.] +He alludes to the renegade Christians, by whom the Saracens, in +Apri., 1291, were assisted to recover St.John d'Acre, the last +possession of the Christians in the Iloly Land. The regret +expressed by the Florentine annalist G. Villani, for the loss of +this valuable fortress, is well worthy of observation, l. vii. c. +144. + +v. 89. As in Soracte Constantine besought.] So in Dante's +treatise De Monarchia: "Dicunt quidam adhue, quod Constantinus +Imperator, mundatus a lepra intercessione Syvestri, tunc summni +pontificis imperii sedem, scilicet Romam, donavit ecclesiae, cum +multis allis imperii dignitatibus." Lib.iii. + +v. 101. My predecessor.] Celestine V. See Notes to Canto III. + +CANTO XXVIII. + +v.8. In that long war.] The war of Hannibal in Italy. "When +Mago brought news of his victories to Carthage, in order to make +his successes more easily credited, he commanded the golden rings +to be poured out in the senate house, which made so large a heap, +that, as some relate, they filled three modii and a half. A more +probable account represents them not to have exceeded one +modius." Livy, Hist. + +v. 12. Guiscard's Norman steel.] Robert Guiscard, who conquered +the kingdom of Naples, and died in 1110. G. Villani, l. iv. c. +18. He is introduced in the Paradise, Canto XVIII. + +v. 13. And those the rest.] The army of Manfredi, which, through +the treachery of the Apulian troops, wns overcome by Charles of +Anjou in 1205, and fell in such numbers that the bones of the +slain were still gathered near Ceperano. G. Villani, l. vii. c. +9. See the Purgatory, Canto III. + +v. 10. O Tagliocozzo.] He alludes to tile victory which Charles +gained over Conradino, by the sage advice of the Sieur de Valeri, +in 1208. G. Villani, l. vii. c. 27. + +v. 32. Ali.] The disciple of Mohammed. + +v. 53. Dolcino.] "In 1305, a friar, called Dolcino, who +belonged to no regular order, contrived to raise in Novarra, in +Lombardy, a large company of the meaner sort of people, declaring +himself to be a true apostle of Christ, and promulgating a +community of property and of wives, with many other such +heretical doctrines. He blamed the pope, cardinals, and other +prelates of the holy church, for not observing their duty, nor +leading the angelic life, and affirmed that he ought to be pope. +He was followed by more than three thousand men and women, who +lived promiscuously on the mountains together, like beasts, and, +when they wanted provisions, supplied themselves by depredation +and rapine. This lasted for two years till, many being struck +with compunction at the dissolute life they led, his sect was +much diminished; and through failure of food, and the severity of +the snows, he was taken by the people of Novarra, and burnt, with +Margarita his companion and many other men and women whom his +errors had seduced." G. Villanni, l. viii. c. 84. + +Landino observes, that he was possessed of singular eloquence, +and that both he and Margarita endored their fate with a firmness +worthy of a better cause. For a further account of him, see +Muratori Rer. Ital. Script. t. ix. p. 427. + +v. 69. Medicina.] A place in the territory of Bologna. Piero +fomented dissensions among the inhabitants of that city, and +among the leaders of the neighbouring states. + +v. 70. The pleasant land.] Lombardy. + +v. 72. The twain.] Guido dal Cassero and Angiolello da Cagnano, +two of the worthiest and most distinguished citizens of Fano, +were invited by Malatestino da Rimini to an entertainment on +pretence that he had some important business to transact with +them: and, according to instructions given by him, they mere +drowned in their passage near Catolica, between Rimini and Fano. + +v. 85. Focara's wind.] Focara is a mountain, from which a wind +blows that is peculiarly dangerous to the navigators of that +coast. + +v. 94. The doubt in Caesar's mind.] Curio, whose speech +(according to Lucan) determined Julius Caesar to proceed when he +had arrived at Rimini (the ancient Ariminum), and doubted whether +he should prosecute the civil war. + Tolle moras: semper nocuit differre paratis + Pharsal, l. i. 281. + +v. 102. Mosca.] Buondelmonte was engaged to marry a lady of the +Amidei family, but broke his promise and united himself to one of +the Donati. This was so much resented by the former, that a +meeting of themselves and their kinsmen was held, to consider of +the best means of revenging the insult. Mosca degli Uberti +persuaded them to resolve on the assassination of Buondelmonte, +exclaiming to them "the thing once done, there is an end." The +counsel and its effects were the source of many terrible +calamities to the state of Florence. "This murder," says G. +Villani, l. v. c. 38, "was the cause and beginning of the +accursed Guelph and Ghibelline parties in Florence." It happened +in 1215. See the Paradise, Canto XVI. 139. + +v. 111. The boon companion.] + What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted? +Shakespeare, 2 Hen. VI. a. iii. s. 2. + +v. 160. Bertrand.] Bertrand de Born, Vicomte de Hautefort, near +Perigueux in Guienne, who incited John to rebel against his +father, Henry II. of England. Bertrand holds a distinguished +place among the Provencal poets. He is quoted in Dante, "De +Vulg. Eloq." l. ii. c. 2. For the translation of some extracts +from his poems, see Millot, Hist. Litteraire des Troubadors t. i. +p. 210; but the historical parts of that work are, I believe, not +to be relied on. + +CANTO XXIX. + +v. 26. Geri of Bello.] A kinsman of the Poet's, who was +murdered by one of the Sacchetti family. His being placed here, +may be considered as a proof that Dante was more impartial in the +allotment of his punishments than has generally been supposed. + +v. 44. As were the torment.] It is very probable that these +lines gave Milton the idea of his celebrated description: + Immediately a place + Before their eyes appear'd, sad, noisome, dark, + A lasar-house it seem'd, wherein were laid + Numbers of all diseas'd, all maladies, &c. + P. L. b. xi. 477. + +v. 45. Valdichiana.] The valley through which passes the river +Chiana, bounded by Arezzo, Cortona, Montepulciano, and Chiusi. In +the heat of autumn it was formerly rendered unwholesome by the +stagnation of the water, but has since been drained by the +Emperor Leopold II. The Chiana is mentioned as a remarkably +sluggish stream, in the Paradise, Canto XIII. 21. + +v. 47. Maremma's pestilent fen.] See Note to Canto XXV. v. 18. + +v. 58. In Aegina.] He alludes to the fable of the ants changed +into Myrmidons. Ovid, Met. 1. vii. + +v. 104. Arezzo was my dwelling.] Grifolino of Arezzo, who +promised Albero, son of the Bishop of Sienna, that he would teach +him the art of flying; and because be did not keep his promise, +Albero prevailed on his father to have him burnt for a +necromancer. + +v. 117. + Was ever race + Light as Sienna's?] +The same imputation is again cast on the Siennese, Purg. Canto +XIII. 141. + +v. 121. Stricca.] This is said ironically. Stricca, Niccolo +Salimbeni, Caccia of Asciano, and Abbagliato, or Meo de +Folcacchieri, belonged to a company of prodigal and luxurious +young men in Sienna, called the "brigata godereccia." Niccolo +was the inventor of a new manner of using cloves in cookery, not +very well understood by the commentators, and which was termed +the "costuma ricca." + +v. 125. In that garden.] Sienna. + +v. 134. Cappocchio's ghost.] Capocchio of Sienna, who is said to +have been a fellow-student of Dante's in natural philosophy. + +CANTO XXX. + +v. 4. Athamas.] From Ovid, Metam. 1. iv. + Protinos Aelides, &c. + +v. 16. Hecuba. See Euripedes, Hecuba; and Ovid, Metnm. l. xiii. + +v. 33. Schicchi.] Gianni Schicci, who was of the family of +Cavalcanti, possessed such a faculty of moulding his features to +the resemblance of others, that he was employed by Simon Donati +to personate Buoso Donati, then recently deceased, and to make a +will, leaving Simon his heir; for which service he was +renumerated with a mare of extraordinary value, here called "the +lady of the herd." + +v. 39. Myrrha.] See Ovid, Metam. l. x. + +v. 60. Adamo's woe.] Adamo of Breschia, at the instigation of +Cuido Alessandro, and their brother Aghinulfo, lords of Romena, +coonterfeited the coin of Florence; for which crime he was burnt. +Landino says, that in his time the peasants still pointed out a +pile of stones near Romena as the place of his execution. + +v. 64. Casentino.] Romena is a part of Casentino. + +v. 77. Branda's limpid spring.] A fountain in Sienna. + +v. 88. The florens with three carats of alloy.] The floren was +a coin that ought to have had tmenty-four carats of pure gold. +Villani relates, that it was first used at Florence in 1253, an +aera of great prosperity in the annals of the republic; before +which time their most valuable coinage was of silver. Hist. l. +vi. c. 54. + +v. 98. The false accuser.] Potiphar's wife. + +CANTO XXXI. + +v. 1. The very tongue.] + Vulnus in Herculeo quae quondam fecerat hoste + Vulneris auxilium Pellas hasta fuit. + Ovid, Rem. Amor. 47. +The same allusion was made by Bernard de Ventadour, a Provencal +poet in the middle of the twelfth century: and Millot observes, +that it was a singular instance of erudition in a Troubadour. +But it is not impossible, as Warton remarks, (Hist. of Engl. +Poetry, vol. ii. sec. x. p 215.) but that he might have been +indebted for it to some of the early romances. + +In Chaucer's Squier's Tale, a sword of similar quality is +introduced: + And other folk have wondred on the sweard, + That could so piercen through every thing; + And fell in speech of Telephus the king, + And of Achillcs for his queint spere, + For he couth with it both heale and dere. +So Shakspeare, Henry VI. p. ii. a. 5. s. 1. + Whose smile and frown like to Achilles' spear + Is able with the change to kill and cure. + +v. 14. Orlando.l + When Charlemain with all his peerage fell + At Fontarabia + Milton, P. L. b. i. 586. +See Warton's Hist. of Eng. Poetrg, v. i. sect. iii. p. 132. +"This is the horn which Orlando won from the giant Jatmund, and +which as Turpin and the Islandic bards report, was endued with +magical power, and might be heard at the distance of twenty +miles." Charlemain and Orlando are introduced in the Paradise, +Canto XVIII. + +v. 36. Montereggnon.] A castle near Sienna. + +v. 105. The fortunate vale.] The country near Carthage. See +Liv. Hist. l. xxx. and Lucan, Phars. l. iv. 590. Dante has kept +the latter of these writers in his eye throughout all this +passage. + +v. 123. Alcides.] The combat between Hercules Antaeus is +adduced by the Poet in his treatise "De Monarchia," l. ii. as a +proof of the judgment of God displayed in the duel, according to +the singular superstition of those times. + +v. 128. The tower of Carisenda.] The leaning tower at Bologna + +CANTO XXXII. + +v. 8. A tongue not us'd + To infant babbling.] + Ne da lingua, che chiami mamma, o babbo. +Dante in his treatise " De Vulg. Eloq." speaking of words not +admissble in the loftier, or as he calls it, tragic style of +poetry, says- "In quorum numero nec puerilia propter suam +simplicitatem ut Mamma et Babbo," l. ii. c. vii. + +v. 29. Tabernich or Pietrapana.] The one a mountain in +Sclavonia, the other in that tract of country called the +Garfagnana, not far from Lucca. + +v. 33. To where modest shame appears.] "As high as to the +face." + +v. 35. Moving their teeth in shrill note like the stork.] + Mettendo i denti in nota di cicogna. +So Boccaccio, G. viii. n. 7. "Lo scolar cattivello quasi cicogna +divenuto si forte batteva i denti." + +v. 53. Who are these two.] Alessandro and Napoleone, sons of +Alberto Alberti, who murdered each other. They were proprietors +of the valley of Falterona, where the Bisenzio has its source, a +river that falls into the Arno about six miles from Florence. + +v. 59. Not him,] Mordrec, son of King Arthur. + +v. 60. Foccaccia.] Focaccia of Cancellieri, (the Pistoian +family) whose atrocious act of revenge against his uncle is said +to have given rise to the parties of the Bianchi and Neri, in the +year 1300. See G. Villani, Hist. l, viii. c. 37. and +Macchiavelli, Hist. l. ii. The account of the latter writer +differs much from that given by Landino in his Commentary. + +v. 63. Mascheroni.] Sassol Mascheroni, a Florentiue, who also +murdered his uncle. + +v. 66. Camiccione.] Camiccione de' Pazzi of Valdarno, by whom +his kinsman Ubertino was treacherously pnt to death. + +v. 67. Carlino.] One of the same family. He betrayed the +Castel di Piano Travigne, in Valdarno, to the Florentines, after +the refugees of the Bianca and Ghibelline party had defended it +against a siege for twenty-nine days, in the summer of 1302. See +G. Villani, l. viii. c. 52 and Dino Compagni, l. ii. + +v. 81. Montaperto.] The defeat of the Guelfi at Montaperto, +occasioned by the treachery of Bocca degli Abbati, who, during +the engagement, cut off the hand of Giacopo del Vacca de'Pazzi, +bearer of the Florentine standard. G. Villani, l. vi. c. 80, and +Notes to Canto X. This event happened in 1260. + +v. 113. Him of Duera.] Buoso of Cremona, of the family of +Duera, who was bribed by Guy de Montfort, to leave a pass between +Piedmont and Parma, with the defence of which he had been +entrusted by the Ghibellines, open to the army of Charles of +Anjou, A.D. 1265, at which the people of Cremona were so enraged, +that they extirpated the whole family. G. Villani, l. vii. c. 4. + +v. 118. Beccaria.] Abbot of Vallombrosa, who was the Pope's +Legate at Florence, where his intrigues in favour of the +Ghibellines being discovered, he was beheaded. I do not find the +occurrence in Vallini, nor do the commentators say to what pope +he was legate. By Landino he is reported to have been from Parma, +by Vellutello from Pavia. + +v. 118. Soldanieri.] "Gianni Soldanieri," says Villani, Hist. +l. vii. c14, "put himself at the head of the people, in the hopes +of rising into power, not aware that the result would be mischief +to the Ghibelline party, and his own ruin; an event which seems +ever to have befallen him, who has headed the populace in +Florence." A.D. 1266. + +v. 119. Ganellon.] The betrayer of Charlemain, mentioned by +Archbishop Turpin. He is a common instance of treachery with the +poets of the middle ages. + Trop son fol e mal pensant, + Pis valent que Guenelon. + Thibaut, roi de Navarre + O new Scariot, and new Ganilion, + O false dissembler, &c. + Chaucer, Nonne's Prieste's Tale +And in the Monke's Tale, Peter of Spaine. +v. 119. Tribaldello.] Tribaldello de'Manfredi, who was bribed +to betray the city of Faonza, A. D. 1282. G. Villani, l. vii. c. +80 + +v. 128. Tydeus.] See Statius, Theb. l. viii. ad finem. + +CANTO XXXIII. + +v. 14. Count Ugolino.] "In the year 1288, in the month of July, +Pisa was much divided by competitors for the sovereignty; one +party, composed of certain of the Guelphi, being headed by the +Judge Nino di Gallura de'Visconti; another, consisting of others +of the same faction, by the Count Ugolino de' Gherardeschi; and +the third by the Archbishop Ruggieri degli Ubaldini, with the +Lanfranchi, Sismondi, Gualandi, and other Ghibelline houses. The +Count Ugolino,to effect his purpose, united with the Archbishop +and his party, and having betrayed Nino, his sister's son, they +contrived that he and his followers should either be driven out +of Pisa, or their persons seized. Nino hearing this, and not +seeing any means of defending himself, retired to Calci, his +castle, and formed an alliance with the Florentines and people of +Lucca, against the Pisans. The Count, before Nino was gone, in +order to cover his treachery, when everything was settled for his +expulsion, quitted Pisa, and repaired to a manor of his called +Settimo; whence, as soon as he was informed of Nino's departure, +he returned to Pisa with great rejoicing and festivity, and was +elevated to the supreme power with every demonstration of triumph +and honour. But his greatness was not of long continuauce. It +pleased the Almighty that a total reverse of fortune should +ensue, as a punishment for his acts of treachery and guilt: for +he was said to have poisoned the Count Anselmo da Capraia, his +sister's son, on account of the envy and fear excited in his mind +by the high esteem in which the gracious manners of Anselmo were +held by the Pisans. The power of the Guelphi being so much +diminished, the Archbishop devised means to betray the Count +Uglino and caused him to be suddenly attacked in his palace by +the fury of the people, whom he had exasperated, by telling them +that Ugolino had betrayed Pisa, and given up their castles to the +citizens of Florence and of Lucca. He was immediately compelled +to surrender; his bastard son and his grandson fell in the +assault; and two of his sons, with their two sons also, were +conveyed to prison." G. Villani l. vii. c. 120. + +"In the following march, the Pisans, who had imprisoned the Count +Uglino, with two of his sons and two of his grandchildren, the +offspring of his son the Count Guelfo, in a tower on the Piazza +of the Anzania, caused the tower to be locked, the key thrown +into the Arno, and all food to be withheld from them. In a few +days they died of hunger; but the Count first with loud cries +declared his penitence, and yet neither priest nor friar was +allowed to shrive him. All the five, when dead, were dragged out +of the prison, and meanly interred; and from thence forward the +tower was called the tower of famine, and so shall ever be." +Ibid. c. 127. + +Chancer has briefly told Ugolino's story. See Monke's Tale, +Hugeline of Pise. + +v. 29. Unto the mountain.] The mountain S. Giuliano, between +Pisa and Lucca. + +v. 59. Thou gav'st.] + Tu ne vestisti + Queste misere carni, e tu le spoglia. +Imitated by Filicaja, Canz. iii. + Di questa imperial caduca spoglia + Tu, Signor, me vestisti e tu mi spoglia: + Ben puoi'l Regno me tor tu che me'l desti. +And by Maffei, in the Merope: + Tu disciogleste + Queste misere membra e tu le annodi. + +v. 79. In that fair region.] + Del bel paese la, dove'l si suona. +Italy as explained by Dante himself, in his treatise De Vulg. +Eloq. l. i. c. 8. "Qui autem Si dicunt a praedictis finibus. +(Januensiem) Oreintalem (Meridionalis Europae partem) tenent; +videlicet usque ad promontorium illud Italiae, qua sinus +Adriatici maris incipit et Siciliam." + +v. 82. Capraia and Gorgona.] Small islands near the mouth of +the Arno. + +v. 94. There very weeping suffers not to weep,] + Lo pianto stesso li pianger non lascia. +So Giusto de'Conti, Bella Mano. Son. "Quanto il ciel." + Che il troppo pianto a me pianger non lassa. +v. 116. The friar Albigero.] Alberigo de'Manfredi, of Faenza, +one of the Frati Godenti, Joyons Friars who having quarrelled +with some of his brotherhood, under pretence of wishing to be +reconciled, invited them to a banquet, at the conclusion of which +he called for the fruit, a signal for the assassins to rush in +and dispatch those whom he had marked for destruction. Hence, +adds Landino, it is said proverbially of one who has been +stabbed, that he has had some of the friar Alberigo's fruit. +Thus Pulci, Morg. Magg. c. xxv. + Le frutte amare di frate Alberico. + +v. 123. Ptolomea.] This circle is named Ptolomea from Ptolemy, +the son of Abubus, by whom Simon and his sons were murdered, at a +great banquet he had made for them. See Maccabees, ch xvi. + +v. 126. The glazed tear-drops.] + + -sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears. + Shakspeare, Rich. II. a. 2. s. 2. + +v. 136. Branca Doria.] The family of Doria was possessed of +great influence in Genoa. Branca is said to have murdered his +father-in-law, Michel Zanche, introduced in Canto XXII. + +v. 162 Romagna's darkest spirit.] The friar Alberigo. + + + +Canto XXXIV. + +v. 6. A wind-mill.] The author of the Caliph Vathek, in the +notes to that tale, justly observes, that it is more than +probable that Don Quixote's mistake of the wind-mills for giants +was suggested to Cervantes by this simile. + +v. 37. Three faces.] It can scarcely be doubted but that Milton +derived his description of Satan in those lines, + + Each passion dimm'd his face + Thrice chang'd with pale, ire, envy, and despair. + P. L. b. iv. 114. +from this passage, coupled with the remark of Vellutello upon it: + +"The first of these sins is anger which he signifies by the red +face; the second, represented by that between pale and yellow is +envy and not, as others have said, avarice; and the third, +denoted by the black, is a melancholy humour that causes a man's +thoughts to be dark and evil, and averse from all joy and +tranquillity." + +v. 44. Sails.] + --His sail-broad vans + He spreads for flight. + Milton, P. L. b. ii. 927. +Compare Spenser, F. Q. b. i. c. xi. st. 10; Ben Jonson's Every +Man out of his humour, v. 7; and Fletcher's Prophetess, a. 2. s. +3. + +v. 46. Like a bat.] The description of an imaginary being, who +is called Typhurgo, in the Zodiacus Vitae, has some touches very +like this of Dante's Lucifer. + + Ingentem vidi regem ingentique sedentem + In solio, crines flammanti stemmate cinctum + ---utrinque patentes + Alae humeris magnae, quales vespertilionum + Membranis contextae amplis-- + Nudus erat longis sed opertus corpora villis. + M. Palingenii, Zod. Vit. l. ix. + A mighty king I might discerne, + Plac'd hie on lofty chaire, + His haire with fyry garland deckt + Puft up in fiendish wise. + x x x x x x + Large wings on him did grow + Framde like the wings of flinder mice, &c. + Googe's Translation + +v. 61. Brutus.] Landino struggles, but I fear in vain, to +extricate Brutus from the unworthy lot which is here assigned +him. He maintains, that by Brutus and Cassius are not meant the +individuals known by those names, but any who put a lawful +monarch to death. Yet if Caesar was such, the conspirators might +be regarded as deserving of their doom. + +v. 89. Within one hour and half of noon.] The poet uses the +Hebrew manner of computing the day, according to which the third +hour answers to our twelve o'clock at noon. + +v. 120. By what of firm land on this side appears.] The +mountain of Purgatory. + +v.123. The vaulted tomb.] "La tomba." This word is used to +express the whole depth of the infernal region. + + + + + +End Notes for Hell. + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Divine Comedy of Dante: Hell + diff --git a/old/old/1ddcc10.zip b/old/old/1ddcc10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6bbab55 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/1ddcc10.zip |