Broke the deep lethargy within my head
\nA heavy thunder, so that I upstarted,
\nLike to a person who by force is wakened;<\/p>\n
And round about I moved my rested eyes,
\nUprisen erect, and steadfastly I gazed,
\nTo recognise the place wherein I was.<\/p>\n
True is it, that upon the verge I found me
\nOf the abysmal valley dolorous,
\nThat gathers thunder of infinite ululations.<\/p>\n
Obscure, profound it was, and nebulous,
\nSo that by fixing on its depths my sight
\nNothing whatever I discerned therein.<\/p>\n
“Let us descend now into the blind world,”
\nBegan the Poet, pallid utterly;
\n“I will be first, and thou shalt second be.”<\/p>\n
And I, who of his colour was aware,
\nSaid: “How shall I come, if thou art afraid,
\nWho’rt wont to be a comfort to my fears?”<\/p>\n
And he to me: “The anguish of the people
\nWho are below here in my face depicts
\nThat pity which for terror thou hast taken.<\/p>\n
Let us go on, for the long way impels us.”
\nThus he went in, and thus he made me enter
\nThe foremost circle that surrounds the abyss.<\/p>\n
There, as it seemed to me from listening,
\nWere lamentations none, but only sighs,
\nThat tremble made the everlasting air.<\/p>\n
And this arose from sorrow without torment,
\nWhich the crowds had, that many were and great,
\nOf infants and of women and of men.<\/p>\n
To me the Master good: “Thou dost not ask
\nWhat spirits these, which thou beholdest, are?
\nNow will I have thee know, ere thou go farther,<\/p>\n
That they sinned not; and if they merit had,
\n‘Tis not enough, because they had not baptism
\nWhich is the portal of the Faith thou holdest;<\/p>\n
And if they were before Christianity,
\nIn the right manner they adored not God;
\nAnd among such as these am I myself.<\/p>\n
For such defects, and not for other guilt,
\nLost are we and are only so far punished,
\nThat without hope we live on in desire.”<\/p>\n
Great grief seized on my heart when this I heard,
\nBecause some people of much worthiness
\nI knew, who in that Limbo were suspended.<\/p>\n
“Tell me, my Master, tell me, thou my Lord,”
\nBegan I, with desire of being certain
\nOf that Faith which o’ercometh every error,<\/p>\n
“Came any one by his own merit hence,
\nOr by another’s, who was blessed thereafter?”
\nAnd he, who understood my covert speech,<\/p>\n
Replied: “I was a novice in this state,
\nWhen I saw hither come a Mighty One,
\nWith sign of victory incoronate.<\/p>\n
Hence he drew forth the shade of the First Parent,
\nAnd that of his son Abel, and of Noah,
\nOf Moses the lawgiver, and the obedient<\/p>\n
Abraham, patriarch, and David, king,
\nIsrael with his father and his children,
\nAnd Rachel, for whose sake he did so much,<\/p>\n
And others many, and he made them blessed;
\nAnd thou must know, that earlier than these
\nNever were any human spirits saved.”<\/p>\n
We ceased not to advance because he spake,
\nBut still were passing onward through the forest,
\nThe forest, say I, of thick-crowded ghosts.<\/p>\n
Not very far as yet our way had gone
\nThis side the summit, when I saw a fire
\nThat overcame a hemisphere of darkness.<\/p>\n
We were a little distant from it still,
\nBut not so far that I in part discerned not
\nThat honourable people held that place.<\/p>\n
“O thou who honourest every art and science,
\nWho may these be, which such great honour have,
\nThat from the fashion of the rest it parts them?”<\/p>\n
And he to me: “The honourable name,
\nThat sounds of them above there in thy life,
\nWins grace in Heaven, that so advances them.”<\/p>\n
In the mean time a voice was heard by me:
\n“All honour be to the pre-eminent Poet;
\nHis shade returns again, that was departed.”<\/p>\n
After the voice had ceased and quiet was,
\nFour mighty shades I saw approaching us;
\nSemblance had they nor sorrowful nor glad.<\/p>\n
To say to me began my gracious Master:
\n“Him with that falchion in his hand behold,
\nWho comes before the three, even as their lord.<\/p>\n
That one is Homer, Poet sovereign;
\nHe who comes next is Horace, the satirist;
\nThe third is Ovid, and the last is Lucan.<\/p>\n
Because to each of these with me applies
\nThe name that solitary voice proclaimed,
\nThey do me honour, and in that do well.”<\/p>\n
Thus I beheld assemble the fair school
\nOf that lord of the song pre-eminent,
\nWho o’er the others like an eagle soars.<\/p>\n
When they together had discoursed somewhat,
\nThey turned to me with signs of salutation,
\nAnd on beholding this, my Master smiled;<\/p>\n
And more of honour still, much more, they did me,
\nIn that they made me one of their own band;
\nSo that the sixth was I, ‘mid so much wit.<\/p>\n
Thus we went on as far as to the light,
\nThings saying ’tis becoming to keep silent,
\nAs was the saying of them where I was.<\/p>\n
We came unto a noble castle’s foot,
\nSeven times encompassed with lofty walls,
\nDefended round by a fair rivulet;<\/p>\n
This we passed over even as firm ground;
\nThrough portals seven I entered with these Sages;
\nWe came into a meadow of fresh verdure.<\/p>\n
People were there with solemn eyes and slow,
\nOf great authority in their countenance;
\nThey spake but seldom, and with gentle voices.<\/p>\n
Thus we withdrew ourselves upon one side
\nInto an opening luminous and lofty,
\nSo that they all of them were visible.<\/p>\n
There opposite, upon the green enamel,
\nWere pointed out to me the mighty spirits,
\nWhom to have seen I feel myself exalted.<\/p>\n
I saw Electra with companions many,
\n‘Mongst whom I knew both Hector and Aeneas,
\nCaesar in armour with gerfalcon eyes;<\/p>\n
I saw Camilla and Penthesilea
\nOn the other side, and saw the King Latinus,
\nWho with Lavinia his daughter sat;<\/p>\n
I saw that Brutus who drove Tarquin forth,
\nLucretia, Julia, Marcia, and Cornelia,
\nAnd saw alone, apart, the Saladin.<\/p>\n
When I had lifted up my brows a little,
\nThe Master I beheld of those who know,
\nSit with his philosophic family.<\/p>\n
All gaze upon him, and all do him honour.
\nThere I beheld both Socrates and Plato,
\nWho nearer him before the others stand;<\/p>\n
Democritus, who puts the world on chance,
\nDiogenes, Anaxagoras, and Thales,
\nZeno, Empedocles, and Heraclitus;<\/p>\n
Of qualities I saw the good collector,
\nHight Dioscorides; and Orpheus saw I,
\nTully and Livy, and moral Seneca,<\/p>\n
Euclid, geometrician, and Ptolemy,
\nGalen, Hippocrates, and Avicenna,
\nAverroes, who the great Comment made.<\/p>\n
I cannot all of them pourtray in full,
\nBecause so drives me onward the long theme,
\nThat many times the word comes short of fact.<\/p>\n
The sixfold company in two divides;
\nAnother way my sapient Guide conducts me
\nForth from the quiet to the air that trembles;<\/p>\n
And to a place I come where nothing shines.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Thus I descended out of the first circle
\nDown to the second, that less space begirds,
\nAnd so much greater dole, that goads to wailing.<\/p>\n
There standeth Minos horribly, and snarls;
\nExamines the transgressions at the entrance;
\nJudges, and sends according as he girds him.<\/p>\n
I say, that when the spirit evil-born
\nCometh before him, wholly it confesses;
\nAnd this discriminator of transgressions<\/p>\n
Seeth what place in Hell is meet for it;
\nGirds himself with his tail as many times
\nAs grades he wishes it should be thrust down.<\/p>\n
Always before him many of them stand;
\nThey go by turns each one unto the judgment;
\nThey speak, and hear, and then are downward hurled.<\/p>\n
“O thou, that to this dolorous hostelry
\nComest,” said Minos to me, when he saw me,
\nLeaving the practice of so great an office,<\/p>\n
“Look how thou enterest, and in whom thou trustest;
\nLet not the portal’s amplitude deceive thee.”
\nAnd unto him my Guide: “Why criest thou too?<\/p>\n
Do not impede his journey fate-ordained;
\nIt is so willed there where is power to do
\nThat which is willed; and ask no further question.”<\/p>\n
And now begin the dolesome notes to grow
\nAudible unto me; now am I come
\nThere where much lamentation strikes upon me.<\/p>\n
I came into a place mute of all light,
\nWhich bellows as the sea does in a tempest,
\nIf by opposing winds ‘t is combated.<\/p>\n
The infernal hurricane that never rests
\nHurtles the spirits onward in its rapine;
\nWhirling them round, and smiting, it molests them.<\/p>\n
When they arrive before the precipice,
\nThere are the shrieks, the plaints, and the laments,
\nThere they blaspheme the puissance divine.<\/p>\n
I understood that unto such a torment
\nThe carnal malefactors were condemned,
\nWho reason subjugate to appetite.<\/p>\n
And as the wings of starlings bear them on
\nIn the cold season in large band and full,
\nSo doth that blast the spirits maledict;<\/p>\n
It hither, thither, downward, upward, drives them;
\nNo hope doth comfort them for evermore,
\nNot of repose, but even of lesser pain.<\/p>\n
And as the cranes go chanting forth their lays,
\nMaking in air a long line of themselves,
\nSo saw I coming, uttering lamentations,<\/p>\n
Shadows borne onward by the aforesaid stress.
\nWhereupon said I: “Master, who are those
\nPeople, whom the black air so castigates?”<\/p>\n
“The first of those, of whom intelligence
\nThou fain wouldst have,” then said he unto me,
\n“The empress was of many languages.<\/p>\n
To sensual vices she was so abandoned,
\nThat lustful she made licit in her law,
\nTo remove the blame to which she had been led.<\/p>\n
She is Semiramis, of whom we read
\nThat she succeeded Ninus, and was his spouse;
\nShe held the land which now the Sultan rules.<\/p>\n
The next is she who killed herself for love,
\nAnd broke faith with the ashes of Sichaeus;
\nThen Cleopatra the voluptuous.”<\/p>\n
Helen I saw, for whom so many ruthless
\nSeasons revolved; and saw the great Achilles,
\nWho at the last hour combated with Love.<\/p>\n
Paris I saw, Tristan; and more than a thousand
\nShades did he name and point out with his finger,
\nWhom Love had separated from our life.<\/p>\n
After that I had listened to my Teacher,
\nNaming the dames of eld and cavaliers,
\nPity prevailed, and I was nigh bewildered.<\/p>\n
And I began: “O Poet, willingly
\nSpeak would I to those two, who go together,
\nAnd seem upon the wind to be so light.”<\/p>\n
And, he to me: “Thou’lt mark, when they shall be
\nNearer to us; and then do thou implore them
\nBy love which leadeth them, and they will come.”<\/p>\n
Soon as the wind in our direction sways them,
\nMy voice uplift I: “O ye weary souls!
\nCome speak to us, if no one interdicts it.”<\/p>\n
As turtle-doves, called onward by desire,
\nWith open and steady wings to the sweet nest
\nFly through the air by their volition borne,<\/p>\n
So came they from the band where Dido is,
\nApproaching us athwart the air malign,
\nSo strong was the affectionate appeal.<\/p>\n
“O living creature gracious and benignant,
\nWho visiting goest through the purple air
\nUs, who have stained the world incarnadine,<\/p>\n
If were the King of the Universe our friend,
\nWe would pray unto him to give thee peace,
\nSince thou hast pity on our woe perverse.<\/p>\n
Of what it pleases thee to hear and speak,
\nThat will we hear, and we will speak to you,
\nWhile silent is the wind, as it is now.<\/p>\n
Sitteth the city, wherein I was born,
\nUpon the sea-shore where the Po descends
\nTo rest in peace with all his retinue.<\/p>\n
Love, that on gentle heart doth swiftly seize,
\nSeized this man for the person beautiful
\nThat was ta’en from me, and still the mode offends me.<\/p>\n
Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving,
\nSeized me with pleasure of this man so strongly,
\nThat, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me;<\/p>\n
Love has conducted us unto one death;
\nCaina waiteth him who quenched our life!”
\nThese words were borne along from them to us.<\/p>\n
As soon as I had heard those souls tormented,
\nI bowed my face, and so long held it down
\nUntil the Poet said to me: “What thinkest?”<\/p>\n
When I made answer, I began: “Alas!
\nHow many pleasant thoughts, how much desire,
\nConducted these unto the dolorous pass!”<\/p>\n
Then unto them I turned me, and I spake,
\nAnd I began: “Thine agonies, Francesca,
\nSad and compassionate to weeping make me.<\/p>\n
But tell me, at the time of those sweet sighs,
\nBy what and in what manner Love conceded,
\nThat you should know your dubious desires?”<\/p>\n
And she to me: “There is no greater sorrow
\nThan to be mindful of the happy time
\nIn misery, and that thy Teacher knows.<\/p>\n
But, if to recognise the earliest root
\nOf love in us thou hast so great desire,
\nI will do even as he who weeps and speaks.<\/p>\n
One day we reading were for our delight
\nOf Launcelot, how Love did him enthral.
\nAlone we were and without any fear.<\/p>\n
Full many a time our eyes together drew
\nThat reading, and drove the colour from our faces;
\nBut one point only was it that o’ercame us.<\/p>\n
When as we read of the much-longed-for smile
\nBeing by such a noble lover kissed,
\nThis one, who ne’er from me shall be divided,<\/p>\n
Kissed me upon the mouth all palpitating.
\nGaleotto was the book and he who wrote it.
\nThat day no farther did we read therein.”<\/p>\n
And all the while one spirit uttered this,
\nThe other one did weep so, that, for pity,
\nI swooned away as if I had been dying,<\/p>\n
And fell, even as a dead body falls.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
At the return of consciousness, that closed
\nBefore the pity of those two relations,
\nWhich utterly with sadness had confused me,<\/p>\n
New torments I behold, and new tormented
\nAround me, whichsoever way I move,
\nAnd whichsoever way I turn, and gaze.<\/p>\n
In the third circle am I of the rain
\nEternal, maledict, and cold, and heavy;
\nIts law and quality are never new.<\/p>\n
Huge hail, and water sombre-hued, and snow,
\nAthwart the tenebrous air pour down amain;
\nNoisome the earth is, that receiveth this.<\/p>\n
Cerberus, monster cruel and uncouth,
\nWith his three gullets like a dog is barking
\nOver the people that are there submerged.<\/p>\n
Red eyes he has, and unctuous beard and black,
\nAnd belly large, and armed with claws his hands;
\nHe rends the spirits, flays, and quarters them.<\/p>\n
Howl the rain maketh them like unto dogs;
\nOne side they make a shelter for the other;
\nOft turn themselves the wretched reprobates.<\/p>\n
When Cerberus perceived us, the great worm!
\nHis mouths he opened, and displayed his tusks;
\n;l[-]<\/p>\n
Not a limb had he that was motionless.<\/p>\n
And my Conductor, with his spans extended,
\nTook of the earth, and with his fists well filled,
\nHe threw it into those rapacious gullets.<\/p>\n
Such as that dog is, who by barking craves,
\nAnd quiet grows soon as his food he gnaws,
\nFor to devour it he but thinks and struggles,<\/p>\n
The like became those muzzles filth-begrimed
\nOf Cerberus the demon, who so thunders
\nOver the souls that they would fain be deaf.<\/p>\n
We passed across the shadows, which subdues
\nThe heavy rain-storm, and we placed our feet
\nUpon their vanity that person seems.<\/p>\n
They all were lying prone upon the earth,
\nExcepting one, who sat upright as soon
\nAs he beheld us passing on before him.<\/p>\n
“O thou that art conducted through this Hell,”
\nHe said to me, “recall me, if thou canst;
\nThyself wast made before I was unmade.”<\/p>\n
And I to him: “The anguish which thou hast
\nPerhaps doth draw thee out of my remembrance,
\nSo that it seems not I have ever seen thee.<\/p>\n
But tell me who thou art, that in so doleful
\nA place art put, and in such punishment,
\nIf some are greater, none is so displeasing.”<\/p>\n
And he to me: “Thy city, which is full
\nOf envy so that now the sack runs over,
\nHeld me within it in the life serene.<\/p>\n
You citizens were wont to call me Ciacco;
\nFor the pernicious sin of gluttony
\nI, as thou seest, am battered by this rain.<\/p>\n
And I, sad soul, am not the only one,
\nFor all these suffer the like penalty
\nFor the like sin;” and word no more spake he.<\/p>\n
I answered him: “Ciacco, thy wretchedness
\nWeighs on me so that it to weep invites me;
\nBut tell me, if thou knowest, to what shall come<\/p>\n
The citizens of the divided city;
\nIf any there be just; and the occasion
\nTell me why so much discord has assailed it.”<\/p>\n
And he to me: “They, after long contention,
\nWill come to bloodshed; and the rustic party
\nWill drive the other out with much offence.<\/p>\n
Then afterwards behoves it this one fall
\nWithin three suns, and rise again the other
\nBy force of him who now is on the coast.<\/p>\n
High will it hold its forehead a long while,
\nKeeping the other under heavy burdens,
\nHowe’er it weeps thereat and is indignant.<\/p>\n
The just are two, and are not understood there;
\nEnvy and Arrogance and Avarice
\nAre the three sparks that have all hearts enkindled.”<\/p>\n
Here ended he his tearful utterance;
\nAnd I to him: “I wish thee still to teach me,
\nAnd make a gift to me of further speech.<\/p>\n
Farinata and Tegghiaio, once so worthy,
\nJacopo Rusticucci, Arrigo, and Mosca,
\nAnd others who on good deeds set their thoughts,<\/p>\n
Say where they are, and cause that I may know them;
\nFor great desire constraineth me to learn
\nIf Heaven doth sweeten them, or Hell envenom.”<\/p>\n
And he: “They are among the blacker souls;
\nA different sin downweighs them to the bottom;
\nIf thou so far descendest, thou canst see them.<\/p>\n
But when thou art again in the sweet world,
\nI pray thee to the mind of others bring me;
\nNo more I tell thee and no more I answer.”<\/p>\n
Then his straightforward eyes he turned askance,
\nEyed me a little, and then bowed his head;
\nHe fell therewith prone like the other blind.<\/p>\n
And the Guide said to me: “He wakes no more
\nThis side the sound of the angelic trumpet;
\nWhen shall approach the hostile Potentate,<\/p>\n
Each one shall find again his dismal tomb,
\nShall reassume his flesh and his own figure,
\nShall hear what through eternity re-echoes.”<\/p>\n
So we passed onward o’er the filthy mixture
\nOf shadows and of rain with footsteps slow,
\nTouching a little on the future life.<\/p>\n
Wherefore I said: “Master, these torments here,
\nWill they increase after the mighty sentence,
\nOr lesser be, or will they be as burning?”<\/p>\n
And he to me: “Return unto thy science,
\nWhich wills, that as the thing more perfect is,
\nThe more it feels of pleasure and of pain.<\/p>\n
Albeit that this people maledict
\nTo true perfection never can attain,
\nHereafter more than now they look to be.”<\/p>\n
Round in a circle by that road we went,
\nSpeaking much more, which I do not repeat;
\nWe came unto the point where the descent is;<\/p>\n
There we found Plutus the great enemy.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
“Pape Satan, Pape Satan, Aleppe!”
\nThus Plutus with his clucking voice began;
\nAnd that benignant Sage, who all things knew,<\/p>\n
Said, to encourage me: “Let not thy fear
\nHarm thee; for any power that he may have
\nShall not prevent thy going down this crag.”<\/p>\n
Then he turned round unto that bloated lip,
\nAnd said: “Be silent, thou accursed wolf;
\nConsume within thyself with thine own rage.<\/p>\n
Not causeless is this journey to the abyss;
\nThus is it willed on high, where Michael wrought
\nVengeance upon the proud adultery.”<\/p>\n
Even as the sails inflated by the wind
\nInvolved together fall when snaps the mast,
\nSo fell the cruel monster to the earth.<\/p>\n
Thus we descended into the fourth chasm,
\nGaining still farther on the dolesome shore
\nWhich all the woe of the universe insacks.<\/p>\n
Justice of God, ah! who heaps up so many
\nNew toils and sufferings as I beheld?
\nAnd why doth our transgression waste us so?<\/p>\n
As doth the billow there upon Charybdis,
\nThat breaks itself on that which it encounters,
\nSo here the folk must dance their roundelay.<\/p>\n
Here saw I people, more than elsewhere, many,
\nOn one side and the other, with great howls,
\nRolling weights forward by main force of chest.<\/p>\n
They clashed together, and then at that point
\nEach one turned backward, rolling retrograde,
\nCrying, “Why keepest?” and, “Why squanderest thou?”<\/p>\n
Thus they returned along the lurid circle
\nOn either hand unto the opposite point,
\nShouting their shameful metre evermore.<\/p>\n
Then each, when he arrived there, wheeled about
\nThrough his half-circle to another joust;
\nAnd I, who had my heart pierced as it were,<\/p>\n
Exclaimed: “My Master, now declare to me
\nWhat people these are, and if all were clerks,
\nThese shaven crowns upon the left of us.”<\/p>\n
And he to me: “All of them were asquint
\nIn intellect in the first life, so much
\nThat there with measure they no spending made.<\/p>\n
Clearly enough their voices bark it forth,
\nWhene’er they reach the two points of the circle,
\nWhere sunders them the opposite defect.<\/p>\n
Clerks those were who no hairy covering
\nHave on the head, and Popes and Cardinals,
\nIn whom doth Avarice practise its excess.”<\/p>\n
And I: “My Master, among such as these
\nI ought forsooth to recognise some few,
\nWho were infected with these maladies.”<\/p>\n
And he to me: “Vain thought thou entertainest;
\nThe undiscerning life which made them sordid
\nNow makes them unto all discernment dim.<\/p>\n
Forever shall they come to these two buttings;
\nThese from the sepulchre shall rise again
\nWith the fist closed, and these with tresses shorn.<\/p>\n
Ill giving and ill keeping the fair world
\nHave ta’en from them, and placed them in this scuffle;
\nWhate’er it be, no words adorn I for it.<\/p>\n
Now canst thou, Son, behold the transient farce
\nOf goods that are committed unto Fortune,
\nFor which the human race each other buffet;<\/p>\n
For all the gold that is beneath the moon,
\nOr ever has been, of these weary souls
\nCould never make a single one repose.”<\/p>\n
“Master,” I said to him, “now tell me also
\nWhat is this Fortune which thou speakest of,
\nThat has the world’s goods so within its clutches?”<\/p>\n
And he to me: “O creatures imbecile,
\nWhat ignorance is this which doth beset you?
\nNow will I have thee learn my judgment of her.<\/p>\n
He whose omniscience everything transcends
\nThe heavens created, and gave who should guide them,
\nThat every part to every part may shine,<\/p>\n
Distributing the light in equal measure;
\nHe in like manner to the mundane splendours
\nOrdained a general ministress and guide,<\/p>\n
That she might change at times the empty treasures
\nFrom race to race, from one blood to another,
\nBeyond resistance of all human wisdom.<\/p>\n
Therefore one people triumphs, and another
\nLanguishes, in pursuance of her judgment,
\nWhich hidden is, as in the grass a serpent.<\/p>\n
Your knowledge has no counterstand against her;
\nShe makes provision, judges, and pursues
\nHer governance, as theirs the other gods.<\/p>\n
Her permutations have not any truce;
\nNecessity makes her precipitate,
\nSo often cometh who his turn obtains.<\/p>\n
And this is she who is so crucified
\nEven by those who ought to give her praise,
\nGiving her blame amiss, and bad repute.<\/p>\n
But she is blissful, and she hears it not;
\nAmong the other primal creatures gladsome
\nShe turns her sphere, and blissful she rejoices.<\/p>\n
Let us descend now unto greater woe;
\nAlready sinks each star that was ascending
\nWhen I set out, and loitering is forbidden.”<\/p>\n
We crossed the circle to the other bank,
\nNear to a fount that boils, and pours itself
\nAlong a gully that runs out of it.<\/p>\n
The water was more sombre far than perse;
\nAnd we, in company with the dusky waves,
\nMade entrance downward by a path uncouth.<\/p>\n
A marsh it makes, which has the name of Styx,
\nThis tristful brooklet, when it has descended
\nDown to the foot of the malign gray shores.<\/p>\n
And I, who stood intent upon beholding,
\nSaw people mud-besprent in that lagoon,
\nAll of them naked and with angry look.<\/p>\n
They smote each other not alone with hands,
\nBut with the head and with the breast and feet,
\nTearing each other piecemeal with their teeth.<\/p>\n
Said the good Master: “Son, thou now beholdest
\nThe souls of those whom anger overcame;
\nAnd likewise I would have thee know for certain<\/p>\n
Beneath the water people are who sigh
\nAnd make this water bubble at the surface,
\nAs the eye tells thee wheresoe’er it turns.<\/p>\n
Fixed in the mire they say, ‘We sullen were
\nIn the sweet air, which by the sun is gladdened,
\nBearing within ourselves the sluggish reek;<\/p>\n
Now we are sullen in this sable mire.’
\nThis hymn do they keep gurgling in their throats,
\nFor with unbroken words they cannot say it.”<\/p>\n
Thus we went circling round the filthy fen
\nA great arc ‘twixt the dry bank and the swamp,
\nWith eyes turned unto those who gorge the mire;<\/p>\n
Unto the foot of a tower we came at last.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I say, continuing, that long before
\nWe to the foot of that high tower had come,
\nOur eyes went upward to the summit of it,<\/p>\n
By reason of two flamelets we saw placed there,
\nAnd from afar another answer them,
\nSo far, that hardly could the eye attain it.<\/p>\n
And, to the sea of all discernment turned,
\nI said: “What sayeth this, and what respondeth
\nThat other fire? and who are they that made it?”<\/p>\n
And he to me: “Across the turbid waves
\nWhat is expected thou canst now discern,
\nIf reek of the morass conceal it not.”<\/p>\n
Cord never shot an arrow from itself
\nThat sped away athwart the air so swift,
\nAs I beheld a very little boat<\/p>\n
Come o’er the water tow’rds us at that moment,
\nUnder the guidance of a single pilot,
\nWho shouted, “Now art thou arrived, fell soul?”<\/p>\n
“Phlegyas, Phlegyas, thou criest out in vain
\nFor this once,” said my Lord; “thou shalt not have us
\nLonger than in the passing of the slough.”<\/p>\n
As he who listens to some great deceit
\nThat has been done to him, and then resents it,
\nSuch became Phlegyas, in his gathered wrath.<\/p>\n
My Guide descended down into the boat,
\nAnd then he made me enter after him,
\nAnd only when I entered seemed it laden.<\/p>\n
Soon as the Guide and I were in the boat,
\nThe antique prow goes on its way, dividing
\nMore of the water than ’tis wont with others.<\/p>\n
While we were running through the dead canal,
\nUprose in front of me one full of mire,
\nAnd said, “Who ‘rt thou that comest ere the hour?”<\/p>\n
And I to him: “Although I come, I stay not;
\nBut who art thou that hast become so squalid?”
\n“Thou seest that I am one who weeps,” he answered.<\/p>\n
And I to him: “With weeping and with wailing,
\nThou spirit maledict, do thou remain;
\nFor thee I know, though thou art all defiled.”<\/p>\n
Then stretched he both his hands unto the boat;
\nWhereat my wary Master thrust him back,
\nSaying, “Away there with the other dogs!”<\/p>\n
Thereafter with his arms he clasped my neck;
\nHe kissed my face, and said: “Disdainful soul,
\nBlessed be she who bore thee in her bosom.<\/p>\n
That was an arrogant person in the world;
\nGoodness is none, that decks his memory;
\nSo likewise here his shade is furious.<\/p>\n
How many are esteemed great kings up there,
\nWho here shall be like unto swine in mire,
\nLeaving behind them horrible dispraises!”<\/p>\n
And I: “My Master, much should I be pleased,
\nIf I could see him soused into this broth,
\nBefore we issue forth out of the lake.”<\/p>\n
And he to me: “Ere unto thee the shore
\nReveal itself, thou shalt be satisfied;
\nSuch a desire ’tis meet thou shouldst enjoy.”<\/p>\n
A little after that, I saw such havoc
\nMade of him by the people of the mire,
\nThat still I praise and thank my God for it.<\/p>\n
They all were shouting, “At Philippo Argenti!”
\nAnd that exasperate spirit Florentine
\nTurned round upon himself with his own teeth.<\/p>\n
We left him there, and more of him I tell not;
\nBut on mine ears there smote a lamentation,
\nWhence forward I intent unbar mine eyes.<\/p>\n
And the good Master said: “Even now, my Son,
\nThe city draweth near whose name is Dis,
\nWith the grave citizens, with the great throng.”<\/p>\n
And I: “Its mosques already, Master, clearly
\nWithin there in the valley I discern
\nVermilion, as if issuing from the fire<\/p>\n
They were.” And he to me: “The fire eternal
\nThat kindles them within makes them look red,
\nAs thou beholdest in this nether Hell.”<\/p>\n
Then we arrived within the moats profound,
\nThat circumvallate that disconsolate city;
\nThe walls appeared to me to be of iron.<\/p>\n
Not without making first a circuit wide,
\nWe came unto a place where loud the pilot
\nCried out to us, “Debark, here is the entrance.”<\/p>\n
More than a thousand at the gates I saw
\nOut of the Heavens rained down, who angrily
\nWere saying, “Who is this that without death<\/p>\n
Goes through the kingdom of the people dead?”
\nAnd my sagacious Master made a sign
\nOf wishing secretly to speak with them.<\/p>\n
A little then they quelled their great disdain,
\nAnd said: “Come thou alone, and he begone
\nWho has so boldly entered these dominions.<\/p>\n
Let him return alone by his mad road;
\nTry, if he can; for thou shalt here remain,
\nWho hast escorted him through such dark regions.”<\/p>\n
Think, Reader, if I was discomforted
\nAt utterance of the accursed words;
\nFor never to return here I believed.<\/p>\n
“O my dear Guide, who more than seven times
\nHast rendered me security, and drawn me
\nFrom imminent peril that before me stood,<\/p>\n
Do not desert me,” said I, “thus undone;
\nAnd if the going farther be denied us,
\nLet us retrace our steps together swiftly.”<\/p>\n
And that Lord, who had led me thitherward,
\nSaid unto me: “Fear not; because our passage
\nNone can take from us, it by Such is given.<\/p>\n
But here await me, and thy weary spirit
\nComfort and nourish with a better hope;
\nFor in this nether world I will not leave thee.”<\/p>\n
So onward goes and there abandons me
\nMy Father sweet, and I remain in doubt,
\nFor No and Yes within my head contend.<\/p>\n
I could not hear what he proposed to them;
\nBut with them there he did not linger long,
\nEre each within in rivalry ran back.<\/p>\n
They closed the portals, those our adversaries,
\nOn my Lord’s breast, who had remained without
\nAnd turned to me with footsteps far between.<\/p>\n
His eyes cast down, his forehead shorn had he
\nOf all its boldness, and he said, with sighs,
\n“Who has denied to me the dolesome houses?”<\/p>\n
And unto me: “Thou, because I am angry,
\nFear not, for I will conquer in the trial,
\nWhatever for defence within be planned.<\/p>\n
This arrogance of theirs is nothing new;
\nFor once they used it at less secret gate,
\nWhich finds itself without a fastening still.<\/p>\n
O’er it didst thou behold the dead inscription;
\nAnd now this side of it descends the steep,
\nPassing across the circles without escort,<\/p>\n
One by whose means the city shall be opened.”<\/p>\n\n\t\t\t Candela Citations<\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t