{"id":179,"date":"2017-06-24T20:36:32","date_gmt":"2017-06-24T20:36:32","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/suny-geneseo-humanities1-1\/chapter\/cantos-i-iii\/"},"modified":"2017-07-22T21:59:00","modified_gmt":"2017-07-22T21:59:00","slug":"cantos-i-iii","status":"web-only","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/suny-geneseo-humanities1-1\/chapter\/cantos-i-iii\/","title":{"raw":"Cantos I-III","rendered":"Cantos I-III"},"content":{"raw":"

Canto I<\/h2>\r\nMidway upon the journey of our life\r\nI found myself within a forest dark,\r\nFor the straight-forward pathway had been lost.\r\n\r\nAh me! how hard a thing it is to say\r\nWhat was this forest savage, rough, and stern,\r\nWhich in the very thought renews the fear.\r\n\r\nSo bitter is it, death is little more;\r\nBut of the good to treat, which there I found,\r\nSpeak will I of the other things I saw there.\r\n\r\nI cannot well repeat how there I entered,\r\nSo full was I of slumber at the moment\r\nIn which I had abandoned the true way.\r\n\r\nBut after I had reached a mountain's foot,\r\nAt that point where the valley terminated,\r\nWhich had with consternation pierced my heart,\r\n\r\nUpward I looked, and I beheld its shoulders,\r\nVested already with that planet's rays\r\nWhich leadeth others right by every road.\r\n\r\nThen was the fear a little quieted\r\nThat in my heart's lake had endured throughout\r\nThe night, which I had passed so piteously.\r\n\r\nAnd even as he, who, with distressful breath,\r\nForth issued from the sea upon the shore,\r\nTurns to the water perilous and gazes;\r\n\r\nSo did my soul, that still was fleeing onward,\r\nTurn itself back to re-behold the pass\r\nWhich never yet a living person left.\r\n\r\nAfter my weary body I had rested,\r\nThe way resumed I on the desert slope,\r\nSo that the firm foot ever was the lower.\r\n\r\nAnd lo! almost where the ascent began,\r\nA leopard light and swift exceedingly,\r\nWhich with a spotted skin was covered o'er!\r\n\r\nAnd never moved she from before my face,\r\nNay, rather did impede so much my way,\r\nThat many times I to return had turned.\r\n\r\nThe time was the beginning of the morning,\r\nAnd up the sun was mounting with those stars\r\nThat with him were, what time the Love Divine\r\n\r\nAt first in motion set those beauteous things;\r\nSo were to me occasion of good hope,\r\nThe variegated skin of that wild beast,\r\n\r\nThe hour of time, and the delicious season;\r\nBut not so much, that did not give me fear\r\nA lion's aspect which appeared to me.\r\n\r\nHe seemed as if against me he were coming\r\nWith head uplifted, and with ravenous hunger,\r\nSo that it seemed the air was afraid of him;\r\n\r\nAnd a she-wolf, that with all hungerings\r\nSeemed to be laden in her meagreness,\r\nAnd many folk has caused to live forlorn!\r\n\r\nShe brought upon me so much heaviness,\r\nWith the affright that from her aspect came,\r\nThat I the hope relinquished of the height.\r\n\r\nAnd as he is who willingly acquires,\r\nAnd the time comes that causes him to lose,\r\nWho weeps in all his thoughts and is despondent,\r\n\r\nE'en such made me that beast withouten peace,\r\nWhich, coming on against me by degrees\r\nThrust me back thither where the sun is silent.\r\n\r\nWhile I was rushing downward to the lowland,\r\nBefore mine eyes did one present himself,\r\nWho seemed from long-continued silence hoarse.\r\n\r\nWhen I beheld him in the desert vast,\r\n\"Have pity on me,\" unto him I cried,\r\n\"Whiche'er thou art, or shade or real man!\"\r\n\r\nHe answered me: \"Not man; man once I was,\r\nAnd both my parents were of Lombardy,\r\nAnd Mantuans by country both of them.\r\n\r\n'Sub Julio' was I born, though it was late,\r\nAnd lived at Rome under the good Augustus,\r\nDuring the time of false and lying gods.\r\n\r\nA poet was I, and I sang that just\r\nSon of Anchises, who came forth from Troy,\r\nAfter that Ilion the superb was burned.\r\n\r\nBut thou, why goest thou back to such annoyance?\r\nWhy climb'st thou not the Mount Delectable,\r\nWhich is the source and cause of every joy?\"\r\n\r\n\"Now, art thou that Virgilius and that fountain\r\nWhich spreads abroad so wide a river of speech?\"\r\nI made response to him with bashful forehead.\r\n\r\n\"O, of the other poets honour and light,\r\nAvail me the long study and great love\r\nThat have impelled me to explore thy volume!\r\n\r\nThou art my master, and my author thou,\r\nThou art alone the one from whom I took\r\nThe beautiful style that has done honour to me.\r\n\r\nBehold the beast, for which I have turned back;\r\nDo thou protect me from her, famous Sage,\r\nFor she doth make my veins and pulses tremble.\"\r\n\r\n\"Thee it behoves to take another road,\"\r\nResponded he, when he beheld me weeping,\r\n\"If from this savage place thou wouldst escape;\r\n\r\nBecause this beast, at which thou criest out,\r\nSuffers not any one to pass her way,\r\nBut so doth harass him, that she destroys him;\r\n\r\nAnd has a nature so malign and ruthless,\r\nThat never doth she glut her greedy will,\r\nAnd after food is hungrier than before.\r\n\r\nMany the animals with whom she weds,\r\nAnd more they shall be still, until the Greyhound\r\nComes, who shall make her perish in her pain.\r\n\r\nHe shall not feed on either earth or pelf,\r\nBut upon wisdom, and on love and virtue;\r\n'Twixt Feltro and Feltro shall his nation be;\r\n\r\nOf that low Italy shall he be the saviour,\r\nOn whose account the maid Camilla died,\r\nEuryalus, Turnus, Nisus, of their wounds;\r\n\r\nThrough every city shall he hunt her down,\r\nUntil he shall have driven her back to Hell,\r\nThere from whence envy first did let her loose.\r\n\r\nTherefore I think and judge it for thy best\r\nThou follow me, and I will be thy guide,\r\nAnd lead thee hence through the eternal place,\r\n\r\nWhere thou shalt hear the desperate lamentations,\r\nShalt see the ancient spirits disconsolate,\r\nWho cry out each one for the second death;\r\n\r\nAnd thou shalt see those who contented are\r\nWithin the fire, because they hope to come,\r\nWhene'er it may be, to the blessed people;\r\n\r\nTo whom, then, if thou wishest to ascend,\r\nA soul shall be for that than I more worthy;\r\nWith her at my departure I will leave thee;\r\n\r\nBecause that Emperor, who reigns above,\r\nIn that I was rebellious to his law,\r\nWills that through me none come into his city.\r\n\r\nHe governs everywhere, and there he reigns;\r\nThere is his city and his lofty throne;\r\nO happy he whom thereto he elects!\"\r\n\r\nAnd I to him: \"Poet, I thee entreat,\r\nBy that same God whom thou didst never know,\r\nSo that I may escape this woe and worse,\r\n\r\nThou wouldst conduct me there where thou hast said,\r\nThat I may see the portal of Saint Peter,\r\nAnd those thou makest so disconsolate.\"\r\n\r\nThen he moved on, and I behind him followed.\r\n\r\n \r\n

Canto II<\/h2>\r\nDay was departing, and the embrowned air\r\nReleased the animals that are on earth\r\nFrom their fatigues; and I the only one\r\n\r\nMade myself ready to sustain the war,\r\nBoth of the way and likewise of the woe,\r\nWhich memory that errs not shall retrace.\r\n\r\nO Muses, O high genius, now assist me!\r\nO memory, that didst write down what I saw,\r\nHere thy nobility shall be manifest!\r\n\r\nAnd I began: \"Poet, who guidest me,\r\nRegard my manhood, if it be sufficient,\r\nEre to the arduous pass thou dost confide me.\r\n\r\nThou sayest, that of Silvius the parent,\r\nWhile yet corruptible, unto the world\r\nImmortal went, and was there bodily.\r\n\r\nBut if the adversary of all evil\r\nWas courteous, thinking of the high effect\r\nThat issue would from him, and who, and what,\r\n\r\nTo men of intellect unmeet it seems not;\r\nFor he was of great Rome, and of her empire\r\nIn the empyreal heaven as father chosen;\r\n\r\nThe which and what, wishing to speak the truth,\r\nWere stablished as the holy place, wherein\r\nSits the successor of the greatest Peter.\r\n\r\nUpon this journey, whence thou givest him vaunt,\r\nThings did he hear, which the occasion were\r\nBoth of his victory and the papal mantle.\r\n\r\nThither went afterwards the Chosen Vessel,\r\nTo bring back comfort thence unto that Faith,\r\nWhich of salvation's way is the beginning.\r\n\r\nBut I, why thither come, or who concedes it?\r\nI not Aeneas am, I am not Paul,\r\nNor I, nor others, think me worthy of it.\r\n\r\nTherefore, if I resign myself to come,\r\nI fear the coming may be ill-advised;\r\nThou'rt wise, and knowest better than I speak.\"\r\n\r\nAnd as he is, who unwills what he willed,\r\nAnd by new thoughts doth his intention change,\r\nSo that from his design he quite withdraws,\r\n\r\nSuch I became, upon that dark hillside,\r\nBecause, in thinking, I consumed the emprise,\r\nWhich was so very prompt in the beginning.\r\n\r\n\"If I have well thy language understood,\"\r\nReplied that shade of the Magnanimous,\r\n\"Thy soul attainted is with cowardice,\r\n\r\nWhich many times a man encumbers so,\r\nIt turns him back from honoured enterprise,\r\nAs false sight doth a beast, when he is shy.\r\n\r\nThat thou mayst free thee from this apprehension,\r\nI'll tell thee why I came, and what I heard\r\nAt the first moment when I grieved for thee.\r\n\r\nAmong those was I who are in suspense,\r\nAnd a fair, saintly Lady called to me\r\nIn such wise, I besought her to command me.\r\n\r\nHer eyes where shining brighter than the Star;\r\nAnd she began to say, gentle and low,\r\nWith voice angelical, in her own language:\r\n\r\n'O spirit courteous of Mantua,\r\nOf whom the fame still in the world endures,\r\nAnd shall endure, long-lasting as the world;\r\n\r\nA friend of mine, and not the friend of fortune,\r\nUpon the desert slope is so impeded\r\nUpon his way, that he has turned through terror,\r\n\r\nAnd may, I fear, already be so lost,\r\nThat I too late have risen to his succour,\r\nFrom that which I have heard of him in Heaven.\r\n\r\nBestir thee now, and with thy speech ornate,\r\nAnd with what needful is for his release,\r\nAssist him so, that I may be consoled.\r\n\r\nBeatrice am I, who do bid thee go;\r\nI come from there, where I would fain return;\r\nLove moved me, which compelleth me to speak.\r\n\r\nWhen I shall be in presence of my Lord,\r\nFull often will I praise thee unto him.'\r\nThen paused she, and thereafter I began:\r\n\r\n'O Lady of virtue, thou alone through whom\r\nThe human race exceedeth all contained\r\nWithin the heaven that has the lesser circles,\r\n\r\nSo grateful unto me is thy commandment,\r\nTo obey, if 'twere already done, were late;\r\nNo farther need'st thou ope to me thy wish.\r\n\r\nBut the cause tell me why thou dost not shun\r\nThe here descending down into this centre,\r\nFrom the vast place thou burnest to return to.'\r\n\r\n'Since thou wouldst fain so inwardly discern,\r\nBriefly will I relate,' she answered me,\r\n'Why I am not afraid to enter here.\r\n\r\nOf those things only should one be afraid\r\nWhich have the power of doing others harm;\r\nOf the rest, no; because they are not fearful.\r\n\r\nGod in his mercy such created me\r\nThat misery of yours attains me not,\r\nNor any flame assails me of this burning.\r\n\r\nA gentle Lady is in Heaven, who grieves\r\nAt this impediment, to which I send thee,\r\nSo that stern judgment there above is broken.\r\n\r\nIn her entreaty she besought Lucia,\r\nAnd said, \"Thy faithful one now stands in need\r\nOf thee, and unto thee I recommend him.\"\r\n\r\nLucia, foe of all that cruel is,\r\nHastened away, and came unto the place\r\nWhere I was sitting with the ancient Rachel.\r\n\r\n\"Beatrice\" said she, \"the true praise of God,\r\nWhy succourest thou not him, who loved thee so,\r\nFor thee he issued from the vulgar herd?\r\n\r\nDost thou not hear the pity of his plaint?\r\nDost thou not see the death that combats him\r\nBeside that flood, where ocean has no vaunt?\"\r\n\r\nNever were persons in the world so swift\r\nTo work their weal and to escape their woe,\r\nAs I, after such words as these were uttered,\r\n\r\nCame hither downward from my blessed seat,\r\nConfiding in thy dignified discourse,\r\nWhich honours thee, and those who've listened to it.'\r\n\r\nAfter she thus had spoken unto me,\r\nWeeping, her shining eyes she turned away;\r\nWhereby she made me swifter in my coming;\r\n\r\nAnd unto thee I came, as she desired;\r\nI have delivered thee from that wild beast,\r\nWhich barred the beautiful mountain's short ascent.\r\n\r\nWhat is it, then? Why, why dost thou delay?\r\nWhy is such baseness bedded in thy heart?\r\nDaring and hardihood why hast thou not,\r\n\r\nSeeing that three such Ladies benedight\r\nAre caring for thee in the court of Heaven,\r\nAnd so much good my speech doth promise thee?\"\r\n\r\nEven as the flowerets, by nocturnal chill,\r\nBowed down and closed, when the sun whitens them,\r\nUplift themselves all open on their stems;\r\n\r\nSuch I became with my exhausted strength,\r\nAnd such good courage to my heart there coursed,\r\nThat I began, like an intrepid person:\r\n\r\n\"O she compassionate, who succoured me,\r\nAnd courteous thou, who hast obeyed so soon\r\nThe words of truth which she addressed to thee!\r\n\r\nThou hast my heart so with desire disposed\r\nTo the adventure, with these words of thine,\r\nThat to my first intent I have returned.\r\n\r\nNow go, for one sole will is in us both,\r\nThou Leader, and thou Lord, and Master thou.\"\r\nThus said I to him; and when he had moved,\r\n\r\nI entered on the deep and savage way.\r\n\r\n \r\n

Canto III<\/h2>\r\n\"Through me the way is to the city dolent;\r\nThrough me the way is to eternal dole;\r\nThrough me the way among the people lost.\r\n\r\nJustice incited my sublime Creator;\r\nCreated me divine Omnipotence,\r\nThe highest Wisdom and the primal Love.\r\n\r\nBefore me there were no created things,\r\nOnly eterne, and I eternal last.\r\nAll hope abandon, ye who enter in!\"\r\n\r\nThese words in sombre colour I beheld\r\nWritten upon the summit of a gate;\r\nWhence I: \"Their sense is, Master, hard to me!\"\r\n\r\nAnd he to me, as one experienced:\r\n\"Here all suspicion needs must be abandoned,\r\nAll cowardice must needs be here extinct.\r\n\r\nWe to the place have come, where I have told thee\r\nThou shalt behold the people dolorous\r\nWho have foregone the good of intellect.\"\r\n\r\nAnd after he had laid his hand on mine\r\nWith joyful mien, whence I was comforted,\r\nHe led me in among the secret things.\r\n\r\nThere sighs, complaints, and ululations loud\r\nResounded through the air without a star,\r\nWhence I, at the beginning, wept thereat.\r\n\r\nLanguages diverse, horrible dialects,\r\nAccents of anger, words of agony,\r\nAnd voices high and hoarse, with sound of hands,\r\n\r\nMade up a tumult that goes whirling on\r\nFor ever in that air for ever black,\r\nEven as the sand doth, when the whirlwind breathes.\r\n\r\nAnd I, who had my head with horror bound,\r\nSaid: \"Master, what is this which now I hear?\r\nWhat folk is this, which seems by pain so vanquished?\"\r\n\r\nAnd he to me: \"This miserable mode\r\nMaintain the melancholy souls of those\r\nWho lived withouten infamy or praise.\r\n\r\nCommingled are they with that caitiff choir\r\nOf Angels, who have not rebellious been,\r\nNor faithful were to God, but were for self.\r\n\r\nThe heavens expelled them, not to be less fair;\r\nNor them the nethermore abyss receives,\r\nFor glory none the damned would have from them.\"\r\n\r\nAnd I: \"O Master, what so grievous is\r\nTo these, that maketh them lament so sore?\"\r\nHe answered: \"I will tell thee very briefly.\r\n\r\nThese have no longer any hope of death;\r\nAnd this blind life of theirs is so debased,\r\nThey envious are of every other fate.\r\n\r\nNo fame of them the world permits to be;\r\nMisericord and Justice both disdain them.<\/span>\r\nLet us not speak of them, but look, and pass.\"\r\n\r\nAnd I, who looked again, beheld a banner,\r\nWhich, whirling round, ran on so rapidly,\r\nThat of all pause it seemed to me indignant;\r\n\r\nAnd after it there came so long a train\r\nOf people, that I ne'er would have believed\r\nThat ever Death so many had undone.\r\n\r\nWhen some among them I had recognised,\r\nI looked, and I beheld the shade of him\r\nWho made through cowardice the great refusal.\r\n\r\nForthwith I comprehended, and was certain,\r\nThat this the sect was of the caitiff wretches\r\nHateful to God and to his enemies.\r\n\r\nThese miscreants, who never were alive,\r\nWere naked, and were stung exceedingly\r\nBy gadflies and by hornets that were there.\r\n\r\nThese did their faces irrigate with blood,\r\nWhich, with their tears commingled, at their feet\r\nBy the disgusting worms was gathered up.\r\n\r\nAnd when to gazing farther I betook me.\r\nPeople I saw on a great river's bank;\r\nWhence said I: \"Master, now vouchsafe to me,\r\n\r\nThat I may know who these are, and what law\r\nMakes them appear so ready to pass over,\r\nAs I discern athwart the dusky light.\"\r\n\r\nAnd he to me: \"These things shall all be known\r\nTo thee, as soon as we our footsteps stay\r\nUpon the dismal shore of Acheron.\"\r\n\r\nThen with mine eyes ashamed and downward cast,\r\nFearing my words might irksome be to him,\r\nFrom speech refrained I till we reached the river.\r\n\r\nAnd lo! towards us coming in a boat\r\nAn old man, hoary with the hair of eld,\r\nCrying: \"Woe unto you, ye souls depraved!\r\n\r\nHope nevermore to look upon the heavens;\r\nI come to lead you to the other shore,\r\nTo the eternal shades in heat and frost.\r\n\r\nAnd thou, that yonder standest, living soul,\r\nWithdraw thee from these people, who are dead!\"\r\nBut when he saw that I did not withdraw,\r\n\r\nHe said: \"By other ways, by other ports\r\nThou to the shore shalt come, not here, for passage;\r\nA lighter vessel needs must carry thee.\"\r\n\r\nAnd unto him the Guide: \"Vex thee not, Charon;\r\nIt is so willed there where is power to do\r\nThat which is willed; and farther question not.\"\r\n\r\nThereat were quieted the fleecy cheeks\r\nOf him the ferryman of the livid fen,\r\nWho round about his eyes had wheels of flame.\r\n\r\nBut all those souls who weary were and naked\r\nTheir colour changed and gnashed their teeth together,\r\nAs soon as they had heard those cruel words.\r\n\r\nGod they blasphemed and their progenitors,\r\nThe human race, the place, the time, the seed\r\nOf their engendering and of their birth!\r\n\r\nThereafter all together they drew back,\r\nBitterly weeping, to the accursed shore,\r\nWhich waiteth every man who fears not God.\r\n\r\nCharon the demon, with the eyes of glede,\r\nBeckoning to them, collects them all together,\r\nBeats with his oar whoever lags behind.\r\n\r\nAs in the autumn-time the leaves fall off,\r\nFirst one and then another, till the branch\r\nUnto the earth surrenders all its spoils;\r\n\r\nIn similar wise the evil seed of Adam\r\nThrow themselves from that margin one by one,\r\nAt signals, as a bird unto its lure.\r\n\r\nSo they depart across the dusky wave,\r\nAnd ere upon the other side they land,\r\nAgain on this side a new troop assembles.\r\n\r\n\"My son,\" the courteous Master said to me,\r\n\"All those who perish in the wrath of God\r\nHere meet together out of every land;\r\n\r\nAnd ready are they to pass o'er the river,\r\nBecause celestial Justice spurs them on,\r\nSo that their fear is turned into desire.\r\n\r\nThis way there never passes a good soul;\r\nAnd hence if Charon doth complain of thee,\r\nWell mayst thou know now what his speech imports.\"\r\n\r\nThis being finished, all the dusk champaign\r\nTrembled so violently, that of that terror\r\nThe recollection bathes me still with sweat.\r\n\r\nThe land of tears gave forth a blast of wind,\r\nAnd fulminated a vermilion light,\r\nWhich overmastered in me every sense,\r\n\r\nAnd as a man whom sleep hath seized I fell.","rendered":"

Canto I<\/h2>\n

Midway upon the journey of our life
\nI found myself within a forest dark,
\nFor the straight-forward pathway had been lost.<\/p>\n

Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say
\nWhat was this forest savage, rough, and stern,
\nWhich in the very thought renews the fear.<\/p>\n

So bitter is it, death is little more;
\nBut of the good to treat, which there I found,
\nSpeak will I of the other things I saw there.<\/p>\n

I cannot well repeat how there I entered,
\nSo full was I of slumber at the moment
\nIn which I had abandoned the true way.<\/p>\n

But after I had reached a mountain’s foot,
\nAt that point where the valley terminated,
\nWhich had with consternation pierced my heart,<\/p>\n

Upward I looked, and I beheld its shoulders,
\nVested already with that planet’s rays
\nWhich leadeth others right by every road.<\/p>\n

Then was the fear a little quieted
\nThat in my heart’s lake had endured throughout
\nThe night, which I had passed so piteously.<\/p>\n

And even as he, who, with distressful breath,
\nForth issued from the sea upon the shore,
\nTurns to the water perilous and gazes;<\/p>\n

So did my soul, that still was fleeing onward,
\nTurn itself back to re-behold the pass
\nWhich never yet a living person left.<\/p>\n

After my weary body I had rested,
\nThe way resumed I on the desert slope,
\nSo that the firm foot ever was the lower.<\/p>\n

And lo! almost where the ascent began,
\nA leopard light and swift exceedingly,
\nWhich with a spotted skin was covered o’er!<\/p>\n

And never moved she from before my face,
\nNay, rather did impede so much my way,
\nThat many times I to return had turned.<\/p>\n

The time was the beginning of the morning,
\nAnd up the sun was mounting with those stars
\nThat with him were, what time the Love Divine<\/p>\n

At first in motion set those beauteous things;
\nSo were to me occasion of good hope,
\nThe variegated skin of that wild beast,<\/p>\n

The hour of time, and the delicious season;
\nBut not so much, that did not give me fear
\nA lion’s aspect which appeared to me.<\/p>\n

He seemed as if against me he were coming
\nWith head uplifted, and with ravenous hunger,
\nSo that it seemed the air was afraid of him;<\/p>\n

And a she-wolf, that with all hungerings
\nSeemed to be laden in her meagreness,
\nAnd many folk has caused to live forlorn!<\/p>\n

She brought upon me so much heaviness,
\nWith the affright that from her aspect came,
\nThat I the hope relinquished of the height.<\/p>\n

And as he is who willingly acquires,
\nAnd the time comes that causes him to lose,
\nWho weeps in all his thoughts and is despondent,<\/p>\n

E’en such made me that beast withouten peace,
\nWhich, coming on against me by degrees
\nThrust me back thither where the sun is silent.<\/p>\n

While I was rushing downward to the lowland,
\nBefore mine eyes did one present himself,
\nWho seemed from long-continued silence hoarse.<\/p>\n

When I beheld him in the desert vast,
\n“Have pity on me,” unto him I cried,
\n“Whiche’er thou art, or shade or real man!”<\/p>\n

He answered me: “Not man; man once I was,
\nAnd both my parents were of Lombardy,
\nAnd Mantuans by country both of them.<\/p>\n

‘Sub Julio’ was I born, though it was late,
\nAnd lived at Rome under the good Augustus,
\nDuring the time of false and lying gods.<\/p>\n

A poet was I, and I sang that just
\nSon of Anchises, who came forth from Troy,
\nAfter that Ilion the superb was burned.<\/p>\n

But thou, why goest thou back to such annoyance?
\nWhy climb’st thou not the Mount Delectable,
\nWhich is the source and cause of every joy?”<\/p>\n

“Now, art thou that Virgilius and that fountain
\nWhich spreads abroad so wide a river of speech?”
\nI made response to him with bashful forehead.<\/p>\n

“O, of the other poets honour and light,
\nAvail me the long study and great love
\nThat have impelled me to explore thy volume!<\/p>\n

Thou art my master, and my author thou,
\nThou art alone the one from whom I took
\nThe beautiful style that has done honour to me.<\/p>\n

Behold the beast, for which I have turned back;
\nDo thou protect me from her, famous Sage,
\nFor she doth make my veins and pulses tremble.”<\/p>\n

“Thee it behoves to take another road,”
\nResponded he, when he beheld me weeping,
\n“If from this savage place thou wouldst escape;<\/p>\n

Because this beast, at which thou criest out,
\nSuffers not any one to pass her way,
\nBut so doth harass him, that she destroys him;<\/p>\n

And has a nature so malign and ruthless,
\nThat never doth she glut her greedy will,
\nAnd after food is hungrier than before.<\/p>\n

Many the animals with whom she weds,
\nAnd more they shall be still, until the Greyhound
\nComes, who shall make her perish in her pain.<\/p>\n

He shall not feed on either earth or pelf,
\nBut upon wisdom, and on love and virtue;
\n‘Twixt Feltro and Feltro shall his nation be;<\/p>\n

Of that low Italy shall he be the saviour,
\nOn whose account the maid Camilla died,
\nEuryalus, Turnus, Nisus, of their wounds;<\/p>\n

Through every city shall he hunt her down,
\nUntil he shall have driven her back to Hell,
\nThere from whence envy first did let her loose.<\/p>\n

Therefore I think and judge it for thy best
\nThou follow me, and I will be thy guide,
\nAnd lead thee hence through the eternal place,<\/p>\n

Where thou shalt hear the desperate lamentations,
\nShalt see the ancient spirits disconsolate,
\nWho cry out each one for the second death;<\/p>\n

And thou shalt see those who contented are
\nWithin the fire, because they hope to come,
\nWhene’er it may be, to the blessed people;<\/p>\n

To whom, then, if thou wishest to ascend,
\nA soul shall be for that than I more worthy;
\nWith her at my departure I will leave thee;<\/p>\n

Because that Emperor, who reigns above,
\nIn that I was rebellious to his law,
\nWills that through me none come into his city.<\/p>\n

He governs everywhere, and there he reigns;
\nThere is his city and his lofty throne;
\nO happy he whom thereto he elects!”<\/p>\n

And I to him: “Poet, I thee entreat,
\nBy that same God whom thou didst never know,
\nSo that I may escape this woe and worse,<\/p>\n

Thou wouldst conduct me there where thou hast said,
\nThat I may see the portal of Saint Peter,
\nAnd those thou makest so disconsolate.”<\/p>\n

Then he moved on, and I behind him followed.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Canto II<\/h2>\n

Day was departing, and the embrowned air
\nReleased the animals that are on earth
\nFrom their fatigues; and I the only one<\/p>\n

Made myself ready to sustain the war,
\nBoth of the way and likewise of the woe,
\nWhich memory that errs not shall retrace.<\/p>\n

O Muses, O high genius, now assist me!
\nO memory, that didst write down what I saw,
\nHere thy nobility shall be manifest!<\/p>\n

And I began: “Poet, who guidest me,
\nRegard my manhood, if it be sufficient,
\nEre to the arduous pass thou dost confide me.<\/p>\n

Thou sayest, that of Silvius the parent,
\nWhile yet corruptible, unto the world
\nImmortal went, and was there bodily.<\/p>\n

But if the adversary of all evil
\nWas courteous, thinking of the high effect
\nThat issue would from him, and who, and what,<\/p>\n

To men of intellect unmeet it seems not;
\nFor he was of great Rome, and of her empire
\nIn the empyreal heaven as father chosen;<\/p>\n

The which and what, wishing to speak the truth,
\nWere stablished as the holy place, wherein
\nSits the successor of the greatest Peter.<\/p>\n

Upon this journey, whence thou givest him vaunt,
\nThings did he hear, which the occasion were
\nBoth of his victory and the papal mantle.<\/p>\n

Thither went afterwards the Chosen Vessel,
\nTo bring back comfort thence unto that Faith,
\nWhich of salvation’s way is the beginning.<\/p>\n

But I, why thither come, or who concedes it?
\nI not Aeneas am, I am not Paul,
\nNor I, nor others, think me worthy of it.<\/p>\n

Therefore, if I resign myself to come,
\nI fear the coming may be ill-advised;
\nThou’rt wise, and knowest better than I speak.”<\/p>\n

And as he is, who unwills what he willed,
\nAnd by new thoughts doth his intention change,
\nSo that from his design he quite withdraws,<\/p>\n

Such I became, upon that dark hillside,
\nBecause, in thinking, I consumed the emprise,
\nWhich was so very prompt in the beginning.<\/p>\n

“If I have well thy language understood,”
\nReplied that shade of the Magnanimous,
\n“Thy soul attainted is with cowardice,<\/p>\n

Which many times a man encumbers so,
\nIt turns him back from honoured enterprise,
\nAs false sight doth a beast, when he is shy.<\/p>\n

That thou mayst free thee from this apprehension,
\nI’ll tell thee why I came, and what I heard
\nAt the first moment when I grieved for thee.<\/p>\n

Among those was I who are in suspense,
\nAnd a fair, saintly Lady called to me
\nIn such wise, I besought her to command me.<\/p>\n

Her eyes where shining brighter than the Star;
\nAnd she began to say, gentle and low,
\nWith voice angelical, in her own language:<\/p>\n

‘O spirit courteous of Mantua,
\nOf whom the fame still in the world endures,
\nAnd shall endure, long-lasting as the world;<\/p>\n

A friend of mine, and not the friend of fortune,
\nUpon the desert slope is so impeded
\nUpon his way, that he has turned through terror,<\/p>\n

And may, I fear, already be so lost,
\nThat I too late have risen to his succour,
\nFrom that which I have heard of him in Heaven.<\/p>\n

Bestir thee now, and with thy speech ornate,
\nAnd with what needful is for his release,
\nAssist him so, that I may be consoled.<\/p>\n

Beatrice am I, who do bid thee go;
\nI come from there, where I would fain return;
\nLove moved me, which compelleth me to speak.<\/p>\n

When I shall be in presence of my Lord,
\nFull often will I praise thee unto him.’
\nThen paused she, and thereafter I began:<\/p>\n

‘O Lady of virtue, thou alone through whom
\nThe human race exceedeth all contained
\nWithin the heaven that has the lesser circles,<\/p>\n

So grateful unto me is thy commandment,
\nTo obey, if ’twere already done, were late;
\nNo farther need’st thou ope to me thy wish.<\/p>\n

But the cause tell me why thou dost not shun
\nThe here descending down into this centre,
\nFrom the vast place thou burnest to return to.’<\/p>\n

‘Since thou wouldst fain so inwardly discern,
\nBriefly will I relate,’ she answered me,
\n‘Why I am not afraid to enter here.<\/p>\n

Of those things only should one be afraid
\nWhich have the power of doing others harm;
\nOf the rest, no; because they are not fearful.<\/p>\n

God in his mercy such created me
\nThat misery of yours attains me not,
\nNor any flame assails me of this burning.<\/p>\n

A gentle Lady is in Heaven, who grieves
\nAt this impediment, to which I send thee,
\nSo that stern judgment there above is broken.<\/p>\n

In her entreaty she besought Lucia,
\nAnd said, “Thy faithful one now stands in need
\nOf thee, and unto thee I recommend him.”<\/p>\n

Lucia, foe of all that cruel is,
\nHastened away, and came unto the place
\nWhere I was sitting with the ancient Rachel.<\/p>\n

“Beatrice” said she, “the true praise of God,
\nWhy succourest thou not him, who loved thee so,
\nFor thee he issued from the vulgar herd?<\/p>\n

Dost thou not hear the pity of his plaint?
\nDost thou not see the death that combats him
\nBeside that flood, where ocean has no vaunt?”<\/p>\n

Never were persons in the world so swift
\nTo work their weal and to escape their woe,
\nAs I, after such words as these were uttered,<\/p>\n

Came hither downward from my blessed seat,
\nConfiding in thy dignified discourse,
\nWhich honours thee, and those who’ve listened to it.’<\/p>\n

After she thus had spoken unto me,
\nWeeping, her shining eyes she turned away;
\nWhereby she made me swifter in my coming;<\/p>\n

And unto thee I came, as she desired;
\nI have delivered thee from that wild beast,
\nWhich barred the beautiful mountain’s short ascent.<\/p>\n

What is it, then? Why, why dost thou delay?
\nWhy is such baseness bedded in thy heart?
\nDaring and hardihood why hast thou not,<\/p>\n

Seeing that three such Ladies benedight
\nAre caring for thee in the court of Heaven,
\nAnd so much good my speech doth promise thee?”<\/p>\n

Even as the flowerets, by nocturnal chill,
\nBowed down and closed, when the sun whitens them,
\nUplift themselves all open on their stems;<\/p>\n

Such I became with my exhausted strength,
\nAnd such good courage to my heart there coursed,
\nThat I began, like an intrepid person:<\/p>\n

“O she compassionate, who succoured me,
\nAnd courteous thou, who hast obeyed so soon
\nThe words of truth which she addressed to thee!<\/p>\n

Thou hast my heart so with desire disposed
\nTo the adventure, with these words of thine,
\nThat to my first intent I have returned.<\/p>\n

Now go, for one sole will is in us both,
\nThou Leader, and thou Lord, and Master thou.”
\nThus said I to him; and when he had moved,<\/p>\n

I entered on the deep and savage way.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Canto III<\/h2>\n

“Through me the way is to the city dolent;
\nThrough me the way is to eternal dole;
\nThrough me the way among the people lost.<\/p>\n

Justice incited my sublime Creator;
\nCreated me divine Omnipotence,
\nThe highest Wisdom and the primal Love.<\/p>\n

Before me there were no created things,
\nOnly eterne, and I eternal last.
\nAll hope abandon, ye who enter in!”<\/p>\n

These words in sombre colour I beheld
\nWritten upon the summit of a gate;
\nWhence I: “Their sense is, Master, hard to me!”<\/p>\n

And he to me, as one experienced:
\n“Here all suspicion needs must be abandoned,
\nAll cowardice must needs be here extinct.<\/p>\n

We to the place have come, where I have told thee
\nThou shalt behold the people dolorous
\nWho have foregone the good of intellect.”<\/p>\n

And after he had laid his hand on mine
\nWith joyful mien, whence I was comforted,
\nHe led me in among the secret things.<\/p>\n

There sighs, complaints, and ululations loud
\nResounded through the air without a star,
\nWhence I, at the beginning, wept thereat.<\/p>\n

Languages diverse, horrible dialects,
\nAccents of anger, words of agony,
\nAnd voices high and hoarse, with sound of hands,<\/p>\n

Made up a tumult that goes whirling on
\nFor ever in that air for ever black,
\nEven as the sand doth, when the whirlwind breathes.<\/p>\n

And I, who had my head with horror bound,
\nSaid: “Master, what is this which now I hear?
\nWhat folk is this, which seems by pain so vanquished?”<\/p>\n

And he to me: “This miserable mode
\nMaintain the melancholy souls of those
\nWho lived withouten infamy or praise.<\/p>\n

Commingled are they with that caitiff choir
\nOf Angels, who have not rebellious been,
\nNor faithful were to God, but were for self.<\/p>\n

The heavens expelled them, not to be less fair;
\nNor them the nethermore abyss receives,
\nFor glory none the damned would have from them.”<\/p>\n

And I: “O Master, what so grievous is
\nTo these, that maketh them lament so sore?”
\nHe answered: “I will tell thee very briefly.<\/p>\n

These have no longer any hope of death;
\nAnd this blind life of theirs is so debased,
\nThey envious are of every other fate.<\/p>\n

No fame of them the world permits to be;
\nMisericord and Justice both disdain them.<\/span>
\nLet us not speak of them, but look, and pass.”<\/p>\n

And I, who looked again, beheld a banner,
\nWhich, whirling round, ran on so rapidly,
\nThat of all pause it seemed to me indignant;<\/p>\n

And after it there came so long a train
\nOf people, that I ne’er would have believed
\nThat ever Death so many had undone.<\/p>\n

When some among them I had recognised,
\nI looked, and I beheld the shade of him
\nWho made through cowardice the great refusal.<\/p>\n

Forthwith I comprehended, and was certain,
\nThat this the sect was of the caitiff wretches
\nHateful to God and to his enemies.<\/p>\n

These miscreants, who never were alive,
\nWere naked, and were stung exceedingly
\nBy gadflies and by hornets that were there.<\/p>\n

These did their faces irrigate with blood,
\nWhich, with their tears commingled, at their feet
\nBy the disgusting worms was gathered up.<\/p>\n

And when to gazing farther I betook me.
\nPeople I saw on a great river’s bank;
\nWhence said I: “Master, now vouchsafe to me,<\/p>\n

That I may know who these are, and what law
\nMakes them appear so ready to pass over,
\nAs I discern athwart the dusky light.”<\/p>\n

And he to me: “These things shall all be known
\nTo thee, as soon as we our footsteps stay
\nUpon the dismal shore of Acheron.”<\/p>\n

Then with mine eyes ashamed and downward cast,
\nFearing my words might irksome be to him,
\nFrom speech refrained I till we reached the river.<\/p>\n

And lo! towards us coming in a boat
\nAn old man, hoary with the hair of eld,
\nCrying: “Woe unto you, ye souls depraved!<\/p>\n

Hope nevermore to look upon the heavens;
\nI come to lead you to the other shore,
\nTo the eternal shades in heat and frost.<\/p>\n

And thou, that yonder standest, living soul,
\nWithdraw thee from these people, who are dead!”
\nBut when he saw that I did not withdraw,<\/p>\n

He said: “By other ways, by other ports
\nThou to the shore shalt come, not here, for passage;
\nA lighter vessel needs must carry thee.”<\/p>\n

And unto him the Guide: “Vex thee not, Charon;
\nIt is so willed there where is power to do
\nThat which is willed; and farther question not.”<\/p>\n

Thereat were quieted the fleecy cheeks
\nOf him the ferryman of the livid fen,
\nWho round about his eyes had wheels of flame.<\/p>\n

But all those souls who weary were and naked
\nTheir colour changed and gnashed their teeth together,
\nAs soon as they had heard those cruel words.<\/p>\n

God they blasphemed and their progenitors,
\nThe human race, the place, the time, the seed
\nOf their engendering and of their birth!<\/p>\n

Thereafter all together they drew back,
\nBitterly weeping, to the accursed shore,
\nWhich waiteth every man who fears not God.<\/p>\n

Charon the demon, with the eyes of glede,
\nBeckoning to them, collects them all together,
\nBeats with his oar whoever lags behind.<\/p>\n

As in the autumn-time the leaves fall off,
\nFirst one and then another, till the branch
\nUnto the earth surrenders all its spoils;<\/p>\n

In similar wise the evil seed of Adam
\nThrow themselves from that margin one by one,
\nAt signals, as a bird unto its lure.<\/p>\n

So they depart across the dusky wave,
\nAnd ere upon the other side they land,
\nAgain on this side a new troop assembles.<\/p>\n

“My son,” the courteous Master said to me,
\n“All those who perish in the wrath of God
\nHere meet together out of every land;<\/p>\n

And ready are they to pass o’er the river,
\nBecause celestial Justice spurs them on,
\nSo that their fear is turned into desire.<\/p>\n

This way there never passes a good soul;
\nAnd hence if Charon doth complain of thee,
\nWell mayst thou know now what his speech imports.”<\/p>\n

This being finished, all the dusk champaign
\nTrembled so violently, that of that terror
\nThe recollection bathes me still with sweat.<\/p>\n

The land of tears gave forth a blast of wind,
\nAnd fulminated a vermilion light,
\nWhich overmastered in me every sense,<\/p>\n

And as a man whom sleep hath seized I fell.<\/p>\n\n\t\t\t

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Candela Citations<\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t
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