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Inferno E-book


Author: Alighieri Dante
Genre: Literature, Poetry, Supernatural, Terror




                                      1321 
                               THE DIVINE COMEDY:
                               THE INFERNO (HELL)

                               by Dante Alighieri

                          translated by Henry F. Cary






Electronically Enhanced Text (c) Copyright 1996, World Library(R)


                         CANTO I
-
    The writer is met by Virgil, who promises to show him
    the punishments of Hell and Purgatory and to lead him
       to Beatrice, who will conduct him into Paradise.
-
      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 dulness in that instant weigh'd
      My senses down, when the true path I left;
      But when a mountain's foot I reach'd, where closed
      The valley that had pierced 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 past:
      And as a man, with difficult short breath,
      Forespent with toiling, 'scaped 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 passed and lived. 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 moved
      Those its fair works: so that with joyous hope
      All things conspired to fill me, the gay skin
      Of that swift animal, the matin dawn,
      And the sweet season. Soon that joy was chased,
      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'erwhelm'd 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 unawares 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 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! whate'er thou be."
-
        He answered: "Now not man, man once I was,
      And born of Lombard parents, Mantuans 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 derived
      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 pondering, 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
      To ascend, a spirit worthier than 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 chuses!" 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 said'st,
      That I Saint Peter's gate may view, and those
      Who, as thou tell'st, are in such dismal plight."
                                                         
-
        Onward he moved, I close his steps pursued.


                         CANTO II
-
   Dante doubts whether his strength suffices for the journey,
           but he takes courage and follows Virgil.
-
      NOW was the day departing, and the air,
      Imbrown'd with shadows, from their toils released
      All animals on earth; and I alone
      Prepared 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 clothed in corruptible flesh, among
                                                         
      The immortal tribes had entrance, and was there
      Sensibly present. Yet if heaven's great Lord,
      Almighty foe to ill, such favor show'd
      In contemplation of the high effect,
      Both what and who from him should issue forth,
      It seems in reason's judgment well deserved;
      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 resolved, and with new thoughts
      Changes his purpose, from his first intent
      Removed; e'en such was I on that dun coast,
      Wasting in thought my enterprise, at first
      So eagerly embraced. "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 tuned, 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 risen 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.'
-
                                                         
        "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 further 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 framed by God, thanks to his grace!
      That any sufferance of your misery
      Touches me not, nor flame of that fierce fire
      Assails me. In high heaven a blessed dame
                                                        
      Resides, 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 succor lent
      To him, who so much loved 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,
      Swol'n 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 honor bring.'
-
        "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 saved 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
      Harbor 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 closed, when day has blanch'd their leaves,
      Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems;
      So was my fainting vigor new restored,
      And to my heart such kindly courage ran,
                                                        
      That I as one undaunted soon replied:
      "O full of pity she, who undertook
      My succor! and thou kind, who didst perform
      So soon her true behest! With such desire
      Thou hast disposed me to renew my voyage,
      That my first purpose fully is resumed.
      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 moved,
      I enter'd on the deep and woody way.


                         CANTO III
-
    Dante and Virgil come to the gate of Hell where those
    were punished who spent their time on earth in apathy
             and indifference to good and evil.
-
      "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 moved:
      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 color dim, I mark'd
      Over a portal's lofty arch inscribed.
      Whereat I thus: "Master, these words import
      Hard meaning." He as one prepared 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 pierced 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 forever whirls
      Round through that air with solid darkness stain'd,
      Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies.
-
        I then, with error yet encompast, 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 lived
      Without or praise or blame, with that ill band
      Of angels mix'd, who nor rebellious proved,
      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 the 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 recognized, I saw
      And knew the shade of him, who to base fear
      Yielding, abjured 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 further onward, 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 woful 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 'tis 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 glared wheeling flames. Meanwhile
      Those spirits, faint and naked, color changed,
      And gnash'd their teeth, soon as the cruel words
      They heard. God and their parents they blasphemed,
      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 curst strand, that every man must pass
      Who fears not God, Charon, demoniac form,
      With eyes of burning coal, collects them all,
      Beckoning, 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 honors 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 seized.


                         CANTO IV
-
    The poet descends into Limbo where he finds those
      who have lived virtuously, but through lack of
        baptism do not merit the bliss of Paradise.
-
      BROKE the deep slumber in my brain a crash
      Of heavy thunder, that I shook myself,
      As one by main force roused. Risen upright,
      My rested eyes I moved 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 thundrous sound
      Of plaints innumerable. Dark and deep,
      And thick with clouds o'erspread, mine eye in vain
      Explored 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 moved;
      And entering led me with him, on the bounds
      Of the first circle that surrounds the abyss.
-
        Here, as mine ear could note, no plaint was heard
      Except of sighs, that made the eternal air
      Tremble, not caused by tortures, but from grief
      Felt by those multitudes, many and vast,
      Of men, women, and infants. Then to me
      The gentle guide: "Inquirest 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 lived, they served 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." Sore 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 revered!
      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, who 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 approved,
      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 assured,
      No spirit of human kind was ever saved."
-
        We, while he spake, ceased 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 shined. Yet we a little space
      Were distant, not so far but I in part
      Discover'd that a tribe in honor high
      That place possess'd. "O thou, who every art
      And science valuest! who are these, that boast
                                                         
      Such honor, separate from all the rest?"
-
        He answer'd: "The renown of their great names,
      That echoes through your world above, acquires
      Favor in Heaven, which holds them thus advanced."
      Meantime a voice I heard: "Honor the bard
      Sublime! his shade returns, that left us late!"
      No sooner ceased 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,
      Honoring 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
      Beckoning me; at the which my master smiled:
      Nor was this all; but greater honor 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 arrived,
      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 moved, and in their port
      Bore eminent authority: they spake
      Seldom, but all their words were tuneful sweet.
-
        We to one side retired, 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 chased, Lucretia, Cato's wife
      Marcia, with Julia and Cornelia there;
      And sole apart retired, the Soldan fierce.
-
        Then when a little more I raised my brow,
      I spied the master of the sapient throng,
      Seated amid the philosophic train.
      Him all admire, all pay him reverence 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
      The 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 bechanced. 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
-
    In the second circle of Hell, Dante beholds Minos,
     the Infernal Judge, and witnesses the punishment
                    of carnal sinners.
-
      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 the 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 numerous 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 dolorous 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 scourged?" "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 promulged decree,
                                                          
      To clear the blame she had herself incurr'd.
      This is Semiramis, of whom 'tis writ,
      That she succeeded Ninus her espoused;
      And held the land, which now the Soldan rules.
      The next in amorous fury slew herself,
      And to Sichaeus' 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 bereaved 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 framed 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 issued, from that troop where Dido ranks,
      They, through the ill air speeding: with such force
      My cry prevail'd, by strong affection urged.
-
        "O gracious creature and benign! who go'st
      Visiting, through this element obscure,
      Us, who the world with bloody stain imbrued;
      If, for a friend, the King of all, we own'd,
      Our prayer to him should for thy peace arise,
      Since thou hast pity on our evil plight.
                                                         
      Of 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 beloved,
      Caught me with pleasing him so passing well,
      That, as thou seest, 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 pondering?" 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 misery 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 so 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 heart-struck
      I, through compassion fainting, seem'd not far
      From death, and like a corse fell to the ground.


                         CANTO VI
-
    The poet finds himself in the third circle where he sees
     the punishment of the gluttonous, one of whom foretells
               the coming agitations in Florence.
-
      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 showers
      Ceaseless, accursed, heavy and cold, unchanged
      Forever, both in kind and in degree.
      Large hail, discolor'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 immersed 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 oped
      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 fill'd with earth
      Raised 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 thundering 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 raised 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 framed
      Or ere my frame was broken." I replied:
      "The anguish thou endurest 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, none disgusteth more."
      He thus in answer to my words rejoin'd:
      "Thy city, heap'd with envy to the brim,
      Aye, that the measure overflows its bounds,
      Held me in brighter days. Ye citizens
      Were wont to name me Ciacco. For the sin
      Of gluttony, damned vice, beneath this rain,
                                                         
      E'en as thou seest, 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 resumed:
      "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 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 opprest, indignant at the load,
      And grieving sore. The just are two in number,
      But they neglected. Avarice, envy, pride,
      Three fatal sparks, have set the hearts of all
      On fire." Here ceased the lamentable sound;
      And I continued thus: "Still would I learn
      More from thee, further parley still entreat.
      Of Farinata and Tegghiaio say,
      They who so well deserved; 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 prest 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 eyed 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 increased,
      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 accurst, yet nearer then, than now,
      They shall approach it." Compassing that path,
      Circuitous we journey'd; and discourse,
      Much more than I relate, between us pass'd:
      Till at the point, whence the steps led below,
      Arrived, there Plutus, the great foe, we found.


                         CANTO VII
-
   In the fourth circle, he sees Plutus and the torments of the
    prodigal and avaricious; in the fifth circle, the wrathful
        and gloomy are punished in the Stygian lake.
-
      "AH me! O Satan! Satan!" loud exclaim'd
      Plutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm:
      And the kind sage, whom no event surprised,
      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 swol'n lip turning, "Peace!" he cried,
      "Curst wolf! thy fury inward on thyself
      Prey, and consume thee! Through the dark profound,
      Not without cause, he passes. So 'tis will'd
      On high, there where the great Archangel pour'd
      Heaven's vengeance on the first adulterer proud."
-
        As sails, full spread and bellying with the wind,
      Drop suddenly collapsed, 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 force 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,
      Traversed the horrid circle; then arrived,
      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 separate 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
      Avarice 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 conceivest 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
      Deprived, and set them at this strife, which needs
      No labor'd phrase of mine to set it off.
      Now mayst 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 these 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
      None intermission: by necessity
      She is made swift, so frequent come who claim
      Succession in her favors. 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
      Sluiced 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 named, expands
      The dismal stream, when it hath reach'd the foot
      Of the gray wither'd cliffs. Intent I stood
      To gaze, and in the marish sunk descried
      A miry tribe, all naked, and with looks
      Betokening 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
-
    Phlegyas, the ferryman of the lake, conveys Dante
     and Virgil to the city of Dis where the portals
           are closed against them by Demons.
-
      MY theme pursuing, I relate, that ere
      We reach'd the lofty turret's base, our eyes
      Its height ascended, where we mark'd uphung
      Two cressets, and another saw from far
      Return the signal, so remote, that scarce
      The eye could catch its beam. I, turning round
      To the deep source of knowledge, thus inquired:
      "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-gendered 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 arrived, 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 pined
      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 thus 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,
      Curst spirit! tarry thou. I know thee well,
      E'en thus in filth disguised." 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 wast conceived. 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 named,
      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 issued." He replied: "Eternal fire,
      That inward burns, shows them with ruddy flame
      Illumed; 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 framed 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 shower'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 knew 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 curst words.
      I did believe I never should return.
-
        "O my loved guide! who more than seven times
      Security hast render'd me, and drawn
      From peril deep, whereto I stood exposed,
      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, assured
      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
      Pellmell rush'd back within. Closed 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 erased
      All confidence, while thus in 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 poet enters the city of Dis where he discovers heretics
        are punished in tombs burning with intense fire.
-
      THE hue, which coward dread on my pale cheeks
      Imprinted when I saw my guide turn back,
      Chased 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-gathering cloud. "It yet behoves
      We win this fight"; thus he began: "if not,
      Such aid to us is offer'd- Oh! how long
      Me seems it, ere the promised help arrive."
-
        I noted, how the sequel of his words
      Cloked 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, conjured 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 removed
      Furthest from heaven'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 Erynnis. 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 clamor raised,
      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 countenance 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 vapors sprung,
      That 'gainst some forest driving all his might,
      Plucks off the branches, beats them down, and hurls
      Afar; then, onward passing, proudly sweeps
      His whirlwind rage, while beasts and shepherds fly.
-
                                                         
        Mine eyes he loosed, 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 perceived
      That he was sent from heaven; 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 heaven! 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 fates to butt 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 prest, than thought of him
      Who in his presence stands. Then we our steps
      Toward that territory moved, secure
      After the hallow'd words. We, unopposed,
      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 issued lamentable moans,
      Such as the sad and tortured 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, the 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
-
     Dante discourses with Farinata degli Uberti and
        Cavalcante Cavalcanti, the first of whom
        predicts the poet's exile from Florence.
-
      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 raised, 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 beloved! 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 issued 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
      Exposed, 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,
      Eyed 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 driven 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 upraised.
                                                          
      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, nor after forth appear'd he more.
-
        Meanwhile the other, great of soul, near whom
      I yet was station'd, changed not countenance stern,
                                                          
      Nor moved 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 relumed
      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 color'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 resumed: "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 razed,
                                                         
      The one who openly forbade the deed."
-
        "So may thy lineage find at last repose,"
      I thus adjured 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 splendor 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 solved."
-
        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 toward the ancient bard
      Reverting, ruminated on the words
      Betokening me such ill. Onward he moved,
      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 raised finger bidding me take heed,
      "When thou shalt stand before her gracious beam,
      Whose bright eye all surveys, she of thy life
      The future tenor will to thee unfold."
-
        Forthwith he to the left hand turn'd his feet:
      We left the wall, and toward the middle space
      Went by a path that to a valley strikes,
      Which e'en thus high exhaled its noisome steam.


                         CANTO XI
-
   At the seventh circle, he is instructed by Virgil concerning
     the three following circles and why certain sinners
             do not suffer within the city of Dis.
-
      UPON the utmost verge of a high bank,
      By craggy rocks environ'd round, we came,
      Where woes beneath, more cruel yet, were stowd:
      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 retired,
      Whereon this scroll I mark'd: "I have in charge
      Pope Anastastius, whom Photinus drew
      From the right path." "Ere our descent, behoves
      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 pass 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 placed,
      As these which now thou leavest. Each one is full
      Of spirits accurst; 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's 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,
      Each within other separate, is it framed.
      To God, his neighbor, 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 neighbor he inflicts; and wastes,
      By devastation, pillage, and the flames,
      His substance. Slayers, and each one that smites
      In malice, plunderers, 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 afterward gives birth
      To special faith. Whence in the lesser circle,
      Point of the universe, dread seat of Dis,
      The traitor is eternally consumed."
-
        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-illumed
      Are not these punish'd, if God's wrath be on them?
      And if it be not, wherefore in such guise
      Are they condemn'd?" 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 Heaven's will,
      Incontinence, 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 placed
      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 solvest my doubt,
      That ignorance not less than knowledge charms.
      Yet somewhat turn thee back," I in these words
      Continued, "where thou said'st, 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 Stagirite 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 naught,
      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 northwest; and onward there a space
      Is our steep passage down the rocky height."


                         CANTO XII
-
   Dante and his leader find the Minotaur on guard and descry a
    river of blood, patrolled by Centaurs, which is the torment
     of those who committed violence against their neighbors.
-
      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, shouldering the wave,
      Or loosed by earthquake or for lack of prop;
      For from the mountain's summit, whence it moved
      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 contrived. 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, 'tis well
      That thou descend." Thus down our road we took
      Through those dilapidated crags, that oft
      Moved underneath my feet, to weight like theirs
      Unused. I pondering 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 seized 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 injured." 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 journey'd. 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 nursed;
      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 induced
      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 tread 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 moved,
      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
      Immersed, 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 clustering hangs,
                                                       
      Is Azzolino; that with flaxen locks
      Obizzo of Este, in the world destroy'd
      By his foul step-son." To the bard revered
      I turn'd me round, and thus he spake: "Let him
      Be to thee now first leader, me but next
      To him in rank." Then further on a space
      The Centaur paused, near some, who at the throat
      Were extant from the wave; and, showing us
      A spirit by itself apart retired,
      Exclaim'd: "He in God's bosom smote the heart,
      Which yet is honored 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 imbrued 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 assured,
      It lower still and lower sinks its bed,
      Till in that part it reuniting join,
      Where 'tis the lot of tyranny to mourn.
      There Heaven'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 named, who fill'd the ways
      With violence and war." This said, he turn'd,
      And quitting us, alone repass'd the ford.


                         CANTO XIII
-
    Dante enters the second compartment of the seventh circle
       which contains those who have done violence to their
        own persons or have violently consumed their goods.
-
      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 cultured 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 countenance, 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 further 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 issued. In amaze
      Fast bound I stood. He, as it seem'd, believed
      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 conceived 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 spared 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 injured spirit! could have believed
      What he hath seen but in my verse described,
      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 inflamed the minds of all;
      And to Augustus they so spread the flame,
      That my glad honors changed 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 honor; 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 resumed: "So may he do for thee
      Freely what thou entreatest, as thou yet
      Be pleased, 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 breathed hard, and the wind soon
      Changed 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 further speech, when us
      A noise surprised; 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
      Sufficed 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 slipt the leash.
                                                      
      On him, who squatted down, they stuck their fangs,
      And having rent him piecemeal bore away
      The tortured limbs. My guide then seized 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 paused, my master spake:
      "Say who wast thou, that at so many points
      Breathest out with blood thy lamentable speech?"
-
        He answer'd: "O ye spirits! arrived 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 changed,
      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 labor'd without profit of their toil.
      I slung the fatal noose from my own roof."


                         CANTO XIV
-
    They arrive at the third compartment where violence
        against God, Nature, and Art is punished.
-
      SOON as the charity of native land
      Wrought in my bosom, I the scatter'd leaves
      Collected, and to him restored, who now
      Was hoarse with utterance. 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 heaven! Oh! how shouldst thou be fear'd
                                                        
      By all, who read what here mine 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 paced
      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 vapor was extinguish'd, while alone:
      So fell the eternal fiery flood, wherewith
                                                        
      The marle 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 overcomest,
      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 immatured?"
-
        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 he weary out,
      At their black smithy laboring 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 raised
      Than I before had heard him: "Capaneus!
      Thou art more punish'd, in that this thy pride
      Lives yet unquench'd: no torment, 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 naught.
      But, as I told him, his despiteful mood
      In 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 perceived our passage lay.
-
        "Of all that I have shown thee, since that gate
      We enter'd first, whose threshold is to none
      Denied, naught 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 given me appetite to know,
      The food he too would give, that hunger craved.
-
                                                       
        "In midst of ocean," forthwith he began,
      "A desolate country lies, which Crete is named;
      Under whose monarch, in old times, the world
      Lived 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 toward Damiata; and at Rome,
      As in his mirror, looks. Of finest gold
      His head is shaped, 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
      Shalt see it) I here give thee no account."
-
        Then I to him: "If from our world this sluice
      Be thus derived; 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 past, 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 inquired: "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 pleased I hear.
      Yet the red seething wave might have resolved
      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 removed."
      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 vapor is extinct."


                         CANTO XV
-
   They meet a troop of spirits that have done great violence
     to nature, and Dante distinguishes Brunetto Latini,
                    his former master.
-
      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 framed, though not in height or bulk to these
      Made equal, by the master, whosoe'er
      He was, that raised them here. We from the wood
      Were now so far removed, 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 eyed 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 explored by all the tribe,
      I was agnized 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 toward his face
      My hand inclining, answer'd: "Ser Brunetto!
      And are ye 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 dared 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 fulness 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 chanced,
      Seeing the heavens thus bounteous to thee, I
      Had gladly given 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 show thee enmity.
      Nor wonder; for amongst ill-savor'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 honor in reserve,
      That thou by either party shalt be craved
      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 prized the lesson, it behoves,
                                                        
      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 prepared.
      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 looked 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;" he thus 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 the wretched throng:
      And, if the wish of so impure a blotch
      Possess'd thee, him thou also mightst 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 further speech and onward way
      Alike desist; for yonder I behold
      A mist new-arisen 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 champaign try their speed
      For the green mantle; and of them he seem'd,
      Not he who loses but who gains the prize.


                         CANTO XVI
-
   They meet the spirits of three military men, and then reach
     the place where the water descends to the eighth circle.
-
      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 issued from a troop,
      That pass'd beneath the fierce tormenting storm,
      Three spirits, running swift. They toward 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 paused,
      And turned 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, resumed 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 moved ever to the twinkling feet.
-
        "If woe of this unsound and dreary waste,"
      Thus one began, "added to our sad cheer
      Thus peel'd with flame, 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 seest
      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
      Achieved, 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 honor; 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 tenor 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 promised to me. But behoves, 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 valor, 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 upraised, 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 at so little cost,"
      They all at once rejoin'd, "thou satisfy
      Others who question thee, O 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
      Pursued his track. I follow'd: and small space
      Had we past 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 first holds 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 clamor soon had stunn'd.
-
                                                       
        I had a cord that braced 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 favor 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
-
     The monster Geryon is described. By permission,
       Dante gets a closer view of those who have
                  done violence to Art.
-
      "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 exposed 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 arm-pits; and the back and breast,
      And either side, were painted o'er with nodes
      And orbits. Colors 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 fenced 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 shaped, 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 to the void. 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 paced
      Of that seventh circle, where the mournful tribe
      Were seated. At the eyes forth gush'd their pangs,
      Against the vapors 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 perceived,
      That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch
                                                       
      With colors 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
      Pictured on his white scrip, address'd me thus:
      "What dost thou in this deep? Go now and know,
      Since yet thou livest, that my neighbor here
      Vitaliano on my left shall sit.
      A Paduan with these Florentines am I.
      Ofttimes they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming,
      'Oh! haste that noble knight, he who the pouch
      With the three goats will bring.'" This said, he writhed
      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 encouraged. "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 interposed 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 succor then not first I proved,
      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 the unusual burden thou sustain'st."
-
        As a small vessel, backening out from land,
      Her station quits; so thence the monster loosed,
      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,
      Gathering 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 perceived,
      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, unobserved 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 conceived 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, unperceived 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, whence nimbly he arose
      In many an airy wheel, and 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 discharged, forthwith
      Sprang forward, like an arrow from the string.


                         CANTO XVIII
-
   The poet describes the eighth circle divided into ten gulfs
      of fraudulent sinners, but treats only those who have
       seduced any woman from her duty and the flatterers.
-
-
      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 bastions, in its hollow bottom raised.
-
        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 advanced, that 'cross the moles
      And dykes 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 dislodged. The bard to left
      Held on his way, and I behind him moved.
-
        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 the other toward the mount.
                                                      
-
        Each diverse 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." I therefore stay'd
      My feet to scan him, and the teacher kind
      Paused 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 naught; for I exclaim'd:
      "Thou who dost cast thine eye upon the ground,
      Unless thy features do belie thee much,
      Venedico art thou. But what brings thee
      Into this bitter seasoning?" 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 arrived
      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 eyed the pack, who came
      From the other side toward us, like the rest,
      Excoriate from the lash. My gentle guide,
      By me unquestion'd, thus his speech resumed:
      "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 beguiled, a virgin young,
                                                     
      Who first had all the rest herself beguiled.
      Impregnated, he left her there forlorn.
      Such is the guilt condemns him to this pain.
      Here too Medea's injuries are avenged.
      All bear him company, who like deceit
      To his have practised. 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 straiten'd path
      Bestrides its shoulders to another arch.
-
        Hence, in the second chasm we heard the ghosts,
      Who gibber 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 condensed, 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 immersed in ordure, that appear'd
      Draff of the human body. There beneath
      Searching with eye inquisitive, I mark'd
      One with his head so grimed, 'twere 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 memory," 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 courtesan,
      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
-
   At the third gulf where those guilty of simony are punished,
         Dante finds Pope Nicholas V whose evil deeds
                 are bitterly reprehended.
-
      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 beloved,
      Those framed 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 emerged 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
      Glanced with such violent motion, as had snapt
      Asunder cords or twisted withes. 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 inquired.
-
        "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
      Quivering express'd his pang. "Whoe'er thou art,
      Sad spirit! thus reversed, and as a stake
      Driven 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 exposed
      In mockery, nor know what to reply;
      When Virgil thus admonish'd: "Tell him quick,
      'I am not he, not he whom thou believest.'"
-
        And I, as was enjoin'd me, straight replied.
-
                                                        
        That heard, the spirit all did wrench his feet,
      And, sighing, next in woful 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 robed,
      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 past, since my soles 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 favor 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 presumed,
      But in this strain I answer'd: "Tell me now
      What treasures from Saint 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 inspired.
      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, the 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,
      Differing wherein from the idolater,
      But that he 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 pleased, with so composed
      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 retraced 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 placed
      Upon the rugged rock and steep, a path
      Not easy for the clambering goat to mount.
      Thence to my view another vale appear'd.


                         CANTO XX
-
    The poet relates the punishment of those who presumed
        to predict future events while still living.
-
      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 reversed
      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 transposed,
                                                         
      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 fallen 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 gaped 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 changed, when woman he became
      Of male, through every limb transform'd; and then
      Once more behoved 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 once 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 wanderer 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, from whose ample breast
      A thousand springs, methinks, and more, between
      Camonica and Garda, issuing forth,
      Water the Apennine. There is a spot
      At midway of that lake, where he who bears
      Of Trento's flock the pastoral 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 opposed
      The Bergamese and Brescian, whence the shore
      More slope each way descends. There, whatsoe'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 stream 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 overstretching 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, gathering to that place,
      Assembled; for its strength was great, enclosed
      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 wronged 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 named
      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,
      Practised in every 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 moved.


                         CANTO XXI
-
    They look down upon the barterers or public peculators
         who are plunged in a lake of boiling pitch
                   and guarded by Demons.
-
      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.
-
        Marvellous darkness shadow'd o'er the place.
      In the Venetians' arsenal as boils
      Through wintry months tenacious pitch, to smear
      Their unsound vessels; for the inclement time
      Seafaring 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 mizzen one repairs, and main-sail rent;
                                                        
      So, not by force of fire but art divine,
      Boil'd here a glutinous thick mass, that round
      Limed all the shore beneath. I that beheld,
      But herein naught distinguish'd, save the bubbles
      Raised by the boiling, and one mighty swell
      Heave, and by turns subsiding fall. While there
      I fix'd my ken below, "Mark! mark!" my guide
      Exclaiming, drew me toward 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 advanced 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 charged; 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 'ay' is quickly made."
-
        Him dashing down, o'er the rough rock he turn'd;
      Nor ever after thief a mastiff loosed
      Sped with like eager haste. That other sank,
      And forthwith writhing 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 advised, who have been erst
      In the like fray." Beyond the bridge's head
      Therewith he pass'd; and reaching the sixth pier,
      Behoved 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 have heard my words, decide he then
      If he shall tear these limbs." They shouted loud,
      "Go, Malacoda!" Whereat one advanced,
      The others standing firm, and as he came,
      "What may this turn avail him?" he exclaim'd.
-
        "Believest thou, Malacoda! I had come
      Thus far from all your skirmishing secure,"
      My teacher answer'd, "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 toward him moved with speed; the fiends
      Meantime all forward drew: me terror seized,
      Lest they should break the compact they had made.
      Thus issuing from Caprona, once I saw
      The infantry, dreading lest his covenant
      The foe should break; so close he hemm'd them round.
-
        I to my leader's side adhered, 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 conference 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 ye 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 despatch
      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 Ciratta, Graffiacane 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: 'tis 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
-
          Accompanied by the Demons, they see other
             sinners of the same description.
-
      IT hath been heretofore my chance to see
      Horsemen with martial order shifting camp,
      To onset sallying, or in muster ranged,
      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 introduced 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 gazed, 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 vessel; 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 watery moat
      Stand at the brink, with the jaws only out,
      Their feet and of the trunk all else conceal'd,
      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 seized
      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 observed, 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 hands
      His foes have laid." My leader to his side
      Approach'd, and whence he came inquired; to whom
      Was answer'd thus: "Born in Navarre's domain,
      My mother placed 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 served:
      To peculating here my thoughts were turn'd,
      Whereof I give account in this dire heat."
                                                       
-
        Straight Ciratto, from whose mouth a tusk
      Issued on either side, as from a boar,
      Ripp'd him with one of these. 'Twixt evil claws
      The mouse had fallen: but Barbariccia cried,
      Seizing him with both arms: "Stand thou apart
      While I do fix him on my prong transpierced."
      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 Latin 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, seized 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 threatening brow
      Restrain'd them. When their strife a little ceased,
      Of him, who yet was gazing on his wound,
      My teacher thus without delay inquired:
      "Who was the spirit, from whom by evil hap
      Parting, as thou hast told, thou camest 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 used 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,
      Rebuked him thus: "Off, cursed bird! avaunt!"
-
        "If ye desire to see or hear," he thus
      Quaking with dread resumed, "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 seven 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 plunged beneath,
      And he with upward pinion raised his breast:
      E'en thus the water-fowl, when she perceives
      The falcon near, dives instant down, while he
      Enraged and spent retires. That mockery
      In Calcabrina fury stirr'd, who flew
      After him, with desire of strife inflamed;
      And, for the barterer had 'scaped, so turn'd
      His talons on his comrade. O'er the dyke
      In grapple close they join'd; but the other proved
      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 despatch'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
-
     The enraged Demons pursue Dante, hut he is preserved
        from them by Virgil. At the sixth gulf, Dante
          beholds the punishment of the hypocrites.
-
      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 compared.
      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 mockery 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 perceived 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 countenance similar, so that from both
      I one design have framed. 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, even as a mother that from sleep
      Is by the noise aroused, 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 land-mill'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 placed them ministers of the fifth foss,
      Power of departing thence took from them all.
-
        There in the depth we saw a painted tribe,
      Who paced 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 compared 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 opprest, so slowly came
      The fainting people, that our company
      Was changed, 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 arrived, they with an eye askance
      Perused 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 named; and by thy land
      Together taken, as men use 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 mine eye,
      Fix'd to a cross with three stakes on the ground:
      He, when he saw me, writhed 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 placed
      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 gazed 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 great 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 voices 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 seventh gulf, Dante sees the robbers tormented
            by venomous and pestilent serpents.
-
      IN the year's early nonage, when the sun
      Tempers his tresses in Aquarius' urn,
      And now toward 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 changed its countenance, 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 cured; for at the fallen bridge
      Arriving, toward 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 labor'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 capt 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 from whence the utmost stone
      Juts down, we reach'd; soon as to that arrived,
      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: vanquish 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 escaped 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 ceased not, as we journey'd, so to seem
      Least faint; whereat a voice from the other foss
      Did issue forth, for utterance suited ill.
      Though on the arch that crosses there I stood,
      What were the words I knew not, but who spake
      Seem'd moved 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 Libya vaunt no more: if Jaculus,
      Pareas and Chelyder be her brood,
      Cenchris and Amphisbaena, plagues so dire
      Or in such numbers swarming ne'er she show'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,
      Transpierced him. Far more quickly than e'er pen
      Wrote O or I, he kindled, burn'd, and changed
      To ashes all, pour'd out upon the earth.
      When there dissolved 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 endured, 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 inquired; 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 bestial life
      And not the human pleased, 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 thither: once
      A man I knew him, choleric and bloody."
-
        The sinner heard and feign'd not, but toward me
      His mind directing and his face, wherein
                                                      
      Was dismal shame depictured, 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 vapor 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
-
     The sacrilegious Fucci vents his fury in blasphemy
     and the poet finds the spirits of three countrymen.
-
      WHEN he had spoke, the sinner raised 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 them 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, cumbering 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, placed 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 look'd
      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
      Seized 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 intertwined 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 changed
      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 the 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,
      Once he transpierced; 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 feverous fit assail'd.
      He eyed the serpent, and the serpent him.
      One from the wound, the other from the mouth
      Breathed a thick smoke, whose vapory columns join'd.
-
        Lucan in mute attention now may hear,
      Nor thy disastrous fate, Sabellus, tell,
      Nor thine, Nasidius. Ovid now be mute.
      What if in warbling fiction he record
      Cadmus and Arethusa, to a snake
      Him changed, 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 pierced 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
      Softening, his indurated to a rind.
      The shoulders next I mark'd, that entering join'd
      The monster's arm-pits, whose two shorter feet
      So lengthen'd, as the others 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 color veils, and generates
      The excrescent pile on one, peeling it off
      From the other body, lo! upon his feet
      One upright rose, and prone the other fell.
      Nor yet their glaring and malignant lamps
      Were shifted, though each feature changed beneath.
      Of him who stood erect, the mounting face
                                                       
      Retreated toward 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 utterance, 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
      The unsteady ballast of the seventh hold:
                                                       
      And here if aught my pen have swerved, events
      So strange may be its warrant. O'er mine eyes
      Confusion hung, and on my thoughts amaze.
-
        Yet 'scaped they not so covertly, but well
      I mark'd Sciancato: he alone it was
      Of the three first that came, who changed not: tho'
      The other's fate, Gaville! still dost rue.


                         CANTO XXVI
-
      He beholds numberless flames, each containing an evil
            counsellor save one which holds both
                   Ulysses and Diomedes.
-
      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 plunderers, such the three I found
      Thy citizens; whence shame to me thy son,
      And no proud honor 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 scaled the flinty steps, which late
      We downward traced, 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 seized 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 reclined, beneath him sees
      Fire-flies innumerous spangling o'er the vale,
      Vineyard or tilth, where his day-labor lies;
                                                       
      With flames so numberless throughout its space
      Shone the eighth chasm, apparent, when the depth
      Was to my view exposed. As he, whose wrongs
      The bears avenged, at its departure saw
      Elijah's chariot, when the steeds erect
      Raised their steep flight for heaven; his eyes meanwhile,
      Straining pursued 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 fallen,
      Though push'd not from the height. The guide, who mark'd
      How I did gaze attentive, thus began:
      "Within these ardors are the spirits, each
      Swathed in confining fire." "Master! thy word,"
      I answer'd, "hath assured 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 the 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 utterance from within these sparks," said I,
      "O master! think my prayer a thousand-fold
      In repetition urged, that thou vouchsafe
      To pause till here the homed flame arrive.
      See, how toward it with desires 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 labors with the wind, then to and fro
      Wagging the top, as a tongue uttering sounds,
                                                      
      Threw out its voice, and spake: "When I escaped
      From Circe, who beyond a circling year
      Had held me near Caieta by her charms,
      Ere thus AEneas yet had named 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
      To 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 cleaved to me. As Iberia far,
      Far as Marocco, 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 boundaries 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 ye 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 reillumed, 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 seized 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 closed."


                         CANTO XXVII
-
       The poet converses with Count Guido da Montefeltro
                   on the state of Romagna.
-
      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 confused,
      Forth issuing, drew our eyes that way to look.
-
        As the Sicilian bull, that rightfully
      His cries first echoed who had shaped its mould,
      Did so rebellow, with the voice of him
      Tormented, that the brazen monster seem'd
      Pierced 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 were 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 Tiber 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 piled 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 auger 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 waved, and thus breathed 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 clothed me, then
      In good Saint Francis' girdle, hoping so
      To have made amends. And certainly my hope
      Had fail'd not, but that he, whom curses light on,
      The high priest, again seduced me into sin.
      And how, and wherefore, listen while I tell.
      Long as this spirit moved 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 traffick'd in the Soldan's land),
      He, his great charge nor sacred ministry,
      In himself reverenced, nor in me that cord
      Which used to mark with leanness whom it girded.
      As in Soracte, 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 resumed:
      '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.
      Heaven, as thou knowest, I have power to shut
      And open: and the keys are therefore twain,
      The which my predecessor meanly prized.'
-
        "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, hovering at his hair.
      No power can the impenitent absolve;
      Nor to repent, and will, at once consist,
      By contradiction absolute forbid.'
      Oh misery! how I shook myself, when he
      Seized me, and cried, 'Thou haply thought'st me not
      A disputant in logic so exact!'
      To Minos down he bore me; and the judge
      Twined 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 fulfil'd his words, the flame
      In dolor 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
-
      In the ninth gulf, the sowers of scandal, schismatics
             and heretics are seen with their limbs
                 miserably maimed and divided.
-
      WHO, e'en 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 measured 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 the Apulian name, or where beyond
      Thy walls, O Tagliacozzo, without arms
                                                     
      The old Alardo conquer'd; and his limbs
      One were to show transpierced, another his
      Clean lopt away; a spectacle like this
      Were but a thing of naught, 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 the englutted aliment to dross.
-
        Whilst eagerly I fix on him my gaze,
      He eyed 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 lived, 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
      Sentenced 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 amaze
      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 imprisoning snows
      Yield him a victim to Novara's power;
      No easy conquest else": with foot upraised
      For stepping, spake Mohammed, on the ground
      Then fix'd it to depart. Another shade,
      Pierced 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 advanced, and bared
      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 to 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 'tis given 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 Catholica, 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-eyed traitor
      (Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain
      His eye had still lack'd sight of) them shall bring
      To conference with him, then so shape his end,
      That they shall need not 'gainst Focara's wind
      Offer up vow nor prayer." 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 prepared
      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 proved
      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 breastplate
                                                    
      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 paced 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
-
      Dante hears the cries of the alchemists and forgers,
             and beholds the spirits afflicted by
                  divers plagues and diseases.
-
      SO were mine eyes inebriate with the view
      Of the vast multitude, whom various wounds
      Disfigured, that they long'd to stay and weep.
-
        But Virgil roused me: "What yet gazest on?
      Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight below
      Among the maim'd and miserable shades?
      Thou hast not shown 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 excused
                                                       
      The tarrying still." My leader part pursued
      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 named
      Geri of Bello. Thou so wholly then
      Wert busied with his spirit, who once ruled
      The towers of Hautefort, that thou lookedst not
      That way, ere he was gone." "O guide beloved!
      His violent death yet unavenged," 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 discoursed 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 exposed, then many a dart
      Of sore lament assail'd me, headed all
      With points of thrilling pity, that I closed
      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 streams 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 restored anew
      From seed of emmets), than was here to see
      The spirits, that languish'd through the murky vale,
      Up-piled on many a stack. Confused 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 listening those diseased, who strove in vain
      To lift their forms. Then two I mark'd, that sat
      Propt '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
      Tired 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
      Scraped 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 tortured thus thou seest: but who art thou
      That hast inquired 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 the 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 supposed his sire to burn me.
      But Minos to this chasm, last of the ten,
      For that I practised 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 temperately
                                                      
      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 forged transmuted metals by the power
      Of alchemy; and if I scan thee right,
      Thou needs must well remember how I aped
      Creative nature by my subtle art."


                         CANTO XXX
-
    Other kinds of impostors like counterfeiters of persons,
     coinage, or speech are described as suffering diseases.
-
      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 seized 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 named,
      Whom swinging down he dash'd upon a rock;
      And with her other burden, self-destroy'd,
      The hapless mother plunged. 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.
      But 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 ghosts 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 vents he still his spite."
-
        To whom I answering: "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, dared 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.
      Swol'n 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 toward 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 pictured 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 laboring 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 wandering. 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 less
      Than half of one across. They brought me down
      Among this tribe; induced by them, I stamp'd
      The florens with three carats of alloy."
-
        "Who are that abject pair," I next inquired,
      "That closely bounding thee upon thy right
      Lie smoking, like a hand in winter steep'd
      In the chill stream?" "When to this gulf I dropp'd,"
      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 named,
      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 the impostor gold."
-
        And thus the dropsied: "Ay, now speak'st thou true:
                                                       
      But there thou gavest 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 for but one fault,
      And thou for more than any imp beside."
-
        "Remember," he replied, "O perjured 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 the 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 stuft with moisture. Thou art parch'd:
      Pains rack thy head: no urging wouldst 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 perceived
      How angrily he spake, and toward him turn'd
      With shame so poignant, as remember'd yet
      Confounds me. As a man that dreams of harm
      Befallen 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
      Excused 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 poets are led to the ninth circle encompassed by Giants;
         Antaeus places them at the bottom of the circle.
-
      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 caused
      Pain first, and then the boon of health restored.
-
        Turning our back upon the vale of woe,
      We cross'd the encircled mound in silence. There
      Was less than day and less than night, that far
      Mine eye advanced not: but I heard a horn
      Sounded so loud, the peal it rang 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 Charlemain, and quench'd
      His saintly warfare. Thitherward not long
                                                       
      My head was raised, when many a lofty tower
      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 arrived
      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 further we advance,
      That it less strange may seem, these are not towers,
      But giants. In the pit they stand immersed,
      Each from his navel downward, round the bank."
-
        As when a fog disperseth gradually,
      Our vision traces what the mist involves
      Condensed 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 the abyss,
      Was turreted with giants, half their length
      Uprearing, horrible, whom Jove from heaven
      Yet threatens, when his muttering 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 the 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 the other bones
      Of like proportion, so that from above
      The bank, which girdled him below, such height
      Arose his stature, that three Friezelanders
      Had striven in vain to reach but to his hair.
      Full thirty ample palms was he exposed
      Downward from whence a man his garment 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.
      Spirit confused! lo, on 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 plied,
      Now moves he never." Forthwith I return'd:
      "Fain would I, if 'twere possible, mine eyes,
      Of Briareus immeasurable, gain'd
      Experience next." He answered: "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 tower, 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 believed, 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, straiten'd sore. 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
      To have passed another way. Yet in the abyss,
      That Lucifer with Judas low ingulfs,
      Lightly he placed us; nor, there leaning, stay'd;
      But rose, as in a bark the stately mast.


                         CANTO XXXII
-
      This canto treats of the first two rounds of the last
                   or frozen circle of Hell.
-
      COULD I command rough rhymes and hoarse, to suit
      That hole of sorrow o'er which every rock
      His firm abutment rears, then might the vein
      Of fancy rise full springing: but not mine
      Such measures, and with faltering awe I touch
      The mighty theme; for to describe the depth
      Of all the universe, is no emprise
      To jest with, and demands a tongue not used
      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
      Bespake 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 fallen,
      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 shrined 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 dolor 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 closed up
      So stoutly. Whence, like two enraged goats,
      They clash'd together: them such fury seized.
-
        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 hand
      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 shaped into a doggish grin; whence creeps
      A shivering 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 paused
      And to that shade I spake, who bitterly
      Still cursed 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 sufferance, 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 enroll."
-
        "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 chattering 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 'scape 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 starved 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. Further on,
      If I misdeem not, Soldanieri bides,
      With Ganellon, and Tribaldello, him
      Who oped 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, the uppermost
      Did so apply his fangs to the other's brain,
      Where the spine joins it. Not more furiously
                                                     
      On Menalippus' temples Tydeus gnawed,
      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 color of his sinning was,
      I may repay thee in the world above,
      If that, wherewith I speak, be moist so long."


                         CANTO XXXIII
-
    Count Ugolino de' Gherardeschi tells of the cruel manner
       in which he and his children famished to death and
         discourses of the third round called Ptolomea.
-
      HIS jaws uplifting from their fell repast,
      That sinner wiped them on the hairs o' the 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 the Archbishop he
      Ruggieri. Why I neighbor 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 several 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 ranged
      Lanfranchi with Sismondi and Gualandi.
      After short course the father and the sons
      Seem'd tired 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 Anselm, 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 descried
      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' the sudden, and cried, 'Father, we should grieve
      Far less, if thou wouldst eat of us: thou gavest
      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 Gaddo 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. O thou Pisa! shame
      Of all the people, who their dwelling make
      In that fair region, where the Italian voice
      Is heard; since that thy neighbors 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, Uguccione, 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 reversed.
-
        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 dislodged
      Each feeling, as 'twere callous, yet me seem'd
      Some breath of wind I felt. "Whence cometh this,"
      Said I, "my Master? Is not here below
      All vapor quench'd?" "Thou shalt be speedily,"
      He answer'd, "where thine eyes 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," answer'd 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 divorced.
      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 arrived below.
      The years are many that have passed 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 Michel 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 oped 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 plunged, and yet doth seem
      In body still alive upon the earth.


                         CANTO XXXIV
-
     In the last round is Lucifer on whose back Dante and
      Virgil ascend to the other hemisphere of the earth.
-
      "THE banners of Hell's Monarch do come forth
      Toward 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 pleased 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 the ice
      Stood forth; and I in stature am more like
      A giant, than the giants are 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 misery 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, the 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,
      Bruised as with ponderous 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 worst 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. The other, Cassius, that appears
      So large of limb. But night now reascends;
      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 oped, 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 placed me on the brink to sit, next join'd
      With wary step my side. I raised 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 past,
      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 the abyss
      I separate," thus when risen I began:
      "My guide! vouchsafe few words to set me free
      From error's thraldom. Where is now the ice?
      How standeth he in posture thus reversed?
      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 the other side the centre, where I grasp'd
      The abhorred worm that boreth through the world.
      Thou wast on the other side, so long as I
      Descended; when I turn'd, thou didst o'erpass
      That point, to which from every part is dragg'd
      All heavy substance. Thou art now arrived
      Under the hemisphere opposed to that,
      Which the great continent doth overspread,
      And underneath whose canopy expired
                                                     
      The Man, that was born sinless and so lived.
      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 we scaled, yet standeth fix'd,
      As at the first. On this part he fell down
      From heaven; and th' earth, here prominent before,
      Through fear of him did veil her with the sea,
      And to our hemisphere retired. 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 climb'd, he first, I following his steps,
      Till on our view the beautiful lights of heaven
      Dawn'd through a circular opening in the cave:
      Thence issuing we again beheld the stars.


                   NOTES - CANTO I.
-
  In the midway.
    The thirty-fifth year of the poet, 1300 A.D.
-
  Which to remember.
    "Even when I remember I am afraid and trembling taketh hold on
my flesh." Job xxi, 6.
-
  A mountain's foot.
    The mountain of salvation.
-
  That planet's beam.
    The sun.
-
  A panther.
    Pleasure or luxury.
-
  With those stars.
    The sun was in Aries, the sign in which it is supposed to have
begun its course at the creation.
-
  The sweet season.
    Spring according to the terminology of the Middle Ages.
                                                          
-
  A lion.
    Pride or ambition.
-
  A she-wolf.
    Avarice.
-
  Mantuans.
    Virgil was born in Andes, today Pietola, a village near Mantua,
twenty-five years before Julius Caesar assumed dictatorial power.
-
  That greyhound.
    Commonly understood to be Can Grande della Scala, Lord of Verona.
-
  'Twixt either Feltro.
    Verona was situated between Feltro and Monte Feltro.
-
  Camilla, etc.
    Characters in The Aeneid which ended with the death of Turnus.
-
  A second death.
                                                          
    "And in these days men shall seek death and shall not find it; and
shall desire to die and death shall flee from them." Rev. ix, 6.
-
  Content in fire.
    The spirits in Purgatory.
-
  A spirit worthier.
    Beatrice who conducts Dante through Paradise and represents Divine
Wisdom while Virgil represents Earthly Wisdom.
-
  Saint Peter's gate. The gate of Purgatory which the poet pretends is
guarded by an angel placed there by St. Peter.


                   NOTES - CANTO II.
-
  Silvius'sire.
    Aeneas.
-
  High effect.
    Founding of Rome.
-
  Peter's sacred chair.
    The papal throne.
-
  The chosen vessel.
    St. Paul; Acts ix. 15.
-
  Who rest suspended.
    The spirits in Limbo who are not admitted to a state of glory
nor doomed to punishment.
-
  Beatrice.
    The daughter of Folco Portinari who is invested in the poem with
the character of celestial wisdom or theology.
-
  Whatever is contained.
    Everything within the lunar heaven which is the lowest of all
and has the smallest circle.
                                                         
-
  This centre.
    The earth is the centre of the heavenly spheres and Hell extends
to the centre of the earth.
-
  A blessed dame.
    The Divine Mercy.
-
  Lucia.
    The enlightening Grace of Heaven.
-
  Three maids.
    The Divine Mercy, Lucia and Beatrice.


                   NOTES - CANTO III.
-
  A flag.
    Those who in life were blown about by every wind of doctrine.
-
  ...Who to base fear
  Yielding, abjured his high estate.
    Commonly understood to be Celestine V who abdicated as pope in
1294 and made way for Boniface VIII.
-
  A great stream.
    The Acheron.
-
  A nimbler boat.
    Perhaps the bark "swift and light" (Purg., ii) in which the
Angel conducts the spirits to Purgatory; the saved souls go to the
mouth of the Tiber and are carried over the ocean to Purgatory.


                   NOTES - CANTO IV.
-
  The first circle.
    Limbo containing the souls of unbaptized children and the virtuous
adults who lived before Christ.
-
  New to that estate.
    Virgil died in 19 B.C., and had been in Limbo fifty years when
Christ came to free the virtuous of the old dispensation.
-
  A puissant one.
    Christ.
-
  The monarch of sublimest song.
    Homer.
-
  A magnificent castle.
    Human knowledge symbolized.
-
  With lofty walls.
    The seven cardinal virtues.
-
  Seven gates.
    The seven liberal arts.
                                                         
-
  Electra.
    The daughter of Atlas and mother of Dardanus, the founder of Troy.
-
  Camilla.
    Also mentioned in Canto i.
-
  Penthesilea.
    Queen of the Amazons who fell fighting for the Trojans in Asia.
-
  Latinus.
    Father-in-law of Aeneas.
-
  Brutus.
    Junius Brutus, the first consul.
-
  Julia.
    Daughter of Julius Caesar and wife of Pompey.
-
  Cornelia.
                                                         
    Daughter of Scipio Africanus and mother of the Gracchi.
-
  The Soldan fierce.
    Saladin, sultan of Egypt and Syria, the rival of Richard the
Lion-Hearted; died 1193.
-
  The master of the sapient throng.
    Aristotle.
-
  Democritus.
    Who maintained the world had been formed by the fortuitous
concourse of atoms.
-
  Thales sage.
    Thales of Miletus, the founder of the Ionic school.
-
  Zeno.
    Chief of the Stoics.
-
  Dioscorides.
    Who wrote a treatise on properties of plants and stone.
-
                                                         
  Linus.
    Possibly the son of Apollo who was fabled as a singer.
-
  Tully.
    Marcus Tullius Cicero.
-
  Avicen.
    Avicenna, the Arab physician whom Dante presents with two other
famous physicians of antiquity.
-
  Averroes.
    An Arab philosopher who wrote a celebrated commentary on
Aristotle.


                   NOTES - CANTO V.
-
  Minos.
    King of Crete whom Virgil made one of the judges in Hell.
-
  Semiramis.
    Queen of Assyria famous for her licentiousness.
-
  Soldan.
    The Sultan of Egypt was also called the Sultan of Babylon in
Dante's time.
-
  With love fought to the end.
    Polyxena whom Achilles loved; her brother, Paris, killed
Achilles while the marriage was taking place.
-
  The land.
    Ravenna.
-
  Caina.
    The place to which murderers are doomed.
-
  Francesca.
    Francesca da Rimini who was given by her father, lord of
Ravenna, in marriage to Lanciotto, son of the lord of Rimini; she fell
in love with Lanciotto's brother, Paolo, and with him was put to death
for adultery by the enraged Lanciotto.


                   NOTES - CANTO VI.
-
  Ciacco.
    In Italian, signifying pig.
-
  The divided city.
    Florence, divided into the Bianchi and Neri factions.
-
  The wild party from the woods.
    So called because it was headed by Veri de' Cerchi whose family
had come from the woody country of the Val di Nievole.
-
  The other.
    The opposite party of the Neri, headed by Corso Donati.
-
  This must fall.
    The Bianchi.
-
  Three solar circles.
    Within three years; the Bianchi were banished in 1302, and so
was Dante.
-
  ...of one, who under shore
  Now rests.
                                                         
    Charles of Valois by whom the Neri were replaced.
-
  The just are two in number.
    Unknown.
-
  Of Farinata and Tegghiaio.
    See notes to Canto x, Farinata and xvi, Albobrandi.
-
  Giacopo.
    Giacopo Rusticucci. See notes to Canto xvi, Rusticucci.
-
  Arrigo.
    Of Arrigo who, commentators say, came from the noble family of
Fifanti.
-
  Mosca.
    Mosca degli Uberti is introduced in Canto xxviii.
-
  Plutus.
    Following his custom with mythological characters. Dante makes
Plutus, the god of riches, a demon.


                   NOTES - CANTO VII.
-
  The first adulterer proud.
    Satan; the word is here used in the sense of one who experiences a
revolt of affections from God, and appears often in this way in the
Bible. See Rev. xii, 7-9.
-
  Each part.
    Each hemisphere of the heavens shines upon the hemisphere of the
earth placed under it.
-
  Each star is falling now.
    From the zenith so that it is past midnight.


                   NOTES - CANTO VIII.
-
  Phlegyas.
    Who was so incensed against Apollo for violating his daughter,
Coronis, that he set fire to Apollo's temple, and was cast into
Tartarus. See Virg. Aen., I, vi.
-
  Filippo Argenti.
    According to Boccaccio, "a man remarkable for the large
proportions and extraordinary vigor of his bodily frame and the
extreme waywardness and irascibility of his temper."
-
  Dis.
    The city of Dis which forms the sixth circle of Hell and was
fortified with walls, moats and towers.
-
  Seven times.
    Reckoning the beasts in the first canto as one, and adding Charon,
Minos. Cerberus, Plutus, Phlegyas and Filippo Argenti as the rest, the
number is seven; but Dante may have put a definite number for an
indeterminate number.
-
  This their insolence, not new.
    These spirits had shown the same insolence when Christ descended
into Hell.


                   NOTES - CANTO IX.
-
  Erictho.
    A Thessalian sorceress employed by Sextus, son of Pompey the
Great, to conjure up a spirit who would inform him of the outcome of
the civil wars between his father and Caesar. This may refer to some
other incident or be an anachronism because Sextus died thirty years
before Virgil's death.
-
  Lowest place of all.
    Hell's lowest circle where arch-traitors are punished; see Canto
xxxiv.
-
  All-circling orb. The primum mobile, or outermost of the Nine
Spheres.
-
  Erynnis.
    The female divinities who were the avengers of iniquity in Greek
mythology.
-
  Your Cerberus.
    When Cerberus tried to oppose his entrance to Hell, Hercules bound
him with a threefold chain and dragged him out of the gate.
-
  Arles.
    The Roman antiquities there include a theatre, a forum and a
cemetery.
-
  Pola.
    Also contains Roman antiquities.


                   NOTES - CANTO X.
-
  Josaphat.
    A common opinion among Jews as well as Christians was that the
final judgment would be held in the valley of Josaphat, or
Jehoshaphat; see Joel iii, 2.
-
  Farinata.
    Farinata degli Uberti, a noble Florentine, leader of the
Ghibelline faction; exiled from Florence, he regained the city with
the help of Manfred, king of the Two Sicilies, in 1260. He saved
Florence when his party wished to burn it to the ground.
-
  Twice.
    The first time in 1248 when they were driven out by Frederick II
and the second in 1260, after the battle of Montaperti.
-
  Return'd.
    Dante's ancestors returned to Florence in 1251 after the defeat of
the Ghibellines at Figlione, and in 1266 after the death of Manfred.
-
  A shade.
    The spirit of Cavalcante Cavalcanti, a noble Florentine, of the
Guelph party.
-
  My son.
    Guido, the son of Cavalcante Cavalcanti, whom Dante calls "the
first of my friends" in the Vita Nuova; he died either in exile in
Serrazana or soon after his return to Florence in December, 1300.
during the spring of which year the action of this poem is supposed to
be taking place.
-
  Had in contempt.
    Guido, more given to philosophy than poetry, may not have been
an admirer of Virgil.
                                                          
-
  Not yet fifty times.
    Fifty months will not pass before Dante will learn the
difficulty of returning to his native city from banishment.
-
  Queen of this realm.
    The moon, who bore the title of Proserpine, queen of the shades
below, in heathen mythology.
-
  The slaughter.
    By means of Farinata degli Uberti, the Guelphs were conquered by
the army of Manfred near the river Arbia with so great a slaughter
that those who escaped took refuge in Lucca; they considered
Florence was lost.
-
  Such orisons.
    May refer to prayers in the churches of Florence for the
deliverance from the Uberti; or perhaps public counsels were held in
the churches, and the speeches were called "orisons."
-
  Singly there I stood.
    Guido Novello assembled a council of the Ghibellines at Empoli
where it was agreed that in order to maintain the ascendency of the
Ghibelline party in Tuscany, it was necessary to destroy Florence.
This cruel sentence, passed upon so noble a city, met with no
opposition from any of its citizens or friends, except Farinata
degli Uberti.
-
  We view.
    The departed spirits know things of the past and future, but are
ignorant of present things.
-
  Frederick.
                                                          
    The Emperor Frederick II who died in 1250.
-
  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 as "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.
-
  Her gracious beam.
    Beatrice.


                   NOTES - CANTO XI.
-
  Anastasius.
    Anastasius II, made pope in 496, died in 498.
-
  Photinus.
    Bishop of Sirmio, condemned as a heretic by the synod of Antioch
in 351; Dante confuses him with Photinus, deacon of Thessalonica and
follower of Acacius.
-
  Cahors.
    A city in France which had the name of being frequented by usurers
in the Middle Ages.
-
  Dis.
    Lucifer.
-
  Whom the rain beats, etc.
    The gluttonous and licentious.
-
  With tongues.
    Misers and prodigals.
-
  Thy ethic page.
    Aristotle's Ethics.
                                                         
-
  Fell spirits.
    The violent, fraudulent and traitorous.
-
  Her laws.
    Aristotle's Physics.
-
  Creation's holy book.
    Genesis ii, 15.
-
  Pisces.
    Pisces is already above the horizon, and the sun, in Aries, will
rise shortly.
-
  The Wain.
    The constellation Bootes, called Charles's Wain.


                   NOTES - CANTO XII.
-
  The infamy of Crete.
    The Minotaur.
-
  The feign'd heifer.
    Pasiphae, the mother of the Minotaur, by a bull sent by Poseidon.
-
  The king of Athens.
    Theseus who was able to destroy the Minotaur by the instruction of
Ariadne, his sister.
-
  He arrived.
    Christ who, according to Dante, carried with him the souls of
the Patriarchs and other just men from the first circle when he
ascended from Hell; see Canto iv.
-
  Been into chaos turn'd.
    This opinion is attributed to Empedocles.
-
  Chiron.
    Son of Saturn and Philyra, pupil of Apollo, instructor of
Achilles, friend of Peleus; renowned for his wisdom and skill in
medicine, hunting and music.
-
  And wrought himself revenge.
    Nessus, when dying by the hand of Hercules, charged Deianira to
preserve the gore from his wound; if the affections of Hercules should
at any time be estranged from her, he said it would act as a charm,
and recall them. Deianira had occasion to try the experiment, and
the venom caused Hercules to expire in torments.
                                                        
-
  Pholus.
    A Centaur who threatened the wives of the Lapithae at the
wedding of Pirithous when he was over-heated with wine.
-
  Dionysius.
    Tyrant of Syracuse, died 367 B.C.
-
  Azzolino.
    Or Ezzolino di Romano, a noted Ghibelline leader, notorious for
his cruelty, who died 1260; he was lord of Padua, Vicenza, Verona
and Brescia, and the subject of a Latin tragedy, Eccerinis, by
Albertino Mussato, a contemporary of Dante.
-
  Obizzo of Este.
    Marquis of Ferrara and of Marc d'Ancona murdered by his own son
for the sake of the wealth he had amassed by his rapacity.
-
  He.
    Henry, nephew of Henry III of England, was slain at Viterbo,
Italy, by Guy de Montfort, the son of Simon de Montfort, Earl of
Leicester, in revenge for his father's death. Henry's heart was
reputedly put in a golden cup and placed on a pillar of the London
Bridge.
-
  Attila.
    King of Huns who began his reign in 433.
-
  On Sextus and on Pyrrhus.
                                                        
    Sextus was the son either of Pompey the Great or Tarquin the
Proud; Pyrrhus was king of Epirus.
-
  ...the Rinieri, of Corneto this,
  Pazzo, the other named.
    Two noted marauders who preyed on the public ways of Italy. The
latter was of the noble family of Pazzi in Florence.


                   NOTES - CANTO XIII.
-
  Betwixt Corneto and Cecina's stream.
    A wild and woody tract of country abounding in deer, goats and
wild boars.
-
  I it was.
    Piero delle Vigne, a native of Capua who raised himself to the
office of Chancellor to Emperor Frederick II who had great
confidence in him. Courtiers by means of forged letters convinced
Frederick that he held a secret and traitorous intercourse with the
Pope, then at odds with the Emperor. Piero was condemned to lose his
eyes, and driven to despair, dashed out his brains against the walls
of a church in 1245.
-
  The harlot.
    Envy.
-
  The fierce soul.
    A suicide.
-
  Lano.
    A Siennese who was reduced by prodigality to a state of extreme
want and took the opportunity of exposing himself to sure death in the
military expedition which the Siennese sent to assist the
Florentines against the Aretini.
-
  O Giacomo of Sant' Andea!
    Jacopo da Sant' Andrea, a Paduan who killed himself after he had
wasted his property in the most wanton acts of profusion.
-
  In that city.
    Florence who changed her first patron, Mars, for St. John.
                                                       
-
  Ashes left by Attila.
    According to the tradition of Dante's time, Attila destroyed
Florence and Charlemagne rebuilt it.


                   NOTES - CANTO XIV.
-
  By Cato's foot.
    The Libyan desert where Cato led the remnant of Pompey's army to
Juba, the king of Numidia.
-
  As, in the torrid Indian clime.
    A reference to Alexander the Great's supposed account to Aristotle
of the falling of snow, then fire, upon his soldiers. Dante has
apparently confused the story.
-
  Yon huge spirit.
    Capaneus, one of the seven kings besieging Thebes, who defied
Jupiter to help the city and was destroyed for his presumption.
-
  Mongibello.
    Mt. Aetna.
-
  Little brook.
    Phlegethon.
-
  Bulicame.
    Warm, medicinal spring near Viterbo which passed by a place of ill
fame.
-
  Under whose monarch.
    Saturn's reign, regarded as the golden age.
                                                        
-
  At Rome.
    Rome was ordained by God as the centre of spiritual and temporal
power.
-
  The red seething wave.
    Phlegethon.
-
  Whither.
    The other side of Purgatory.


                   NOTES - CANTO XV.
-
  Chiarentana.
    A part of the Alps where the river Brenta rises.
-
  Brunetto.
    Brunetto Latini, born in 1220 of a noble family, a noted scholar
of his day, and Dante's teacher; he wrote Il Tesoretto, an allegorical
didactic poem in Italian, and Li Tresors, a variety of encyclopedia,
in French.
-
  Fesole.
    The first city built in Europe, according to Florentine tradition;
destroyed by J. Caesar, a new city, called Florence, was built on
its foundations by the Romans.
-
  Either party.
    The Bianchi and Neri parties.
-
  Priscian.
    There was a grammarian by that name, but most commentators believe
Dante here uses an individual name for the species because he wishes
to imply the frequency of the crime among those who abused their
opportunities in educating youth.
-
  Francesco.
    Accorso, a Florentine, who interpreted the Roman law at Bologna,
and died in 1229.
-
  Him.
    Andrea de' Mozzi, who was translated by Pope Nicholas III or
Pope Boniface VIII from the see of Florence to Vicenza so that his
scandalous life would be less exposed to observation.
                                                         
-
  I commend my treasure to thee.
    Brunetto's great work.


                   NOTES - CANTO XVI.
-
  Gualdrada.
    Daughter of Bellincione Berti whom Emperor Otho IV married because
he was so impressed with her modesty and loveliness; Guidoguerra was
her grandson, a man of great military skill and prowess who led four
hundred Florentines of the Guelph party in the victory of Charles of
Anjou over Manfred, King of Naples, in 1266. By this victory, the
Ghibellines were expelled from Florence, and the Guelphs
re-established there.
-
  Aldobrandi.
    Tegghiaio Aldobrandi of the noble family of Adimari; the rejection
of his advice caused the memorable defeat of the Florentines at the
hands of the Siennese at Montaperto, and the consequent banishment
of the Guelphs from Florence.
-
  Rusticucci.
    Giacopo Rusticucci, a Florentine, noted for his opulence and
generous spirit.
-
  Borsiere.
    Guglielmo Borsiere, another Florentine, whom Boccaccio calls "a
man of courteous and elegant manners, and of great readiness in
conversation."
-
  E'en as the river.
    The fall of Phlegethon is likened to that of Montone in the
Apennines above the Abbey of St. Benedict.
-
  At Forli.
    Because there it loses the name of Acquacheta and takes that of
Montone.
-
  Where space.
    Either because the abbey was capable of containing more than those
who occupied it or because the lords of that territory intended to
build a castle near the waterfall and collect within its walls the
population of surrounding villages.
                                                        
-
  A cord.
    It is believed that Dante entered the order of St. Francis in an
earlier part of his life. By observing the rules of that order, he had
wanted to mortify his carnal appetites or "take the painted
leopard," representing Pleasure, "with his cord," the rope Franciscans
wore around their waists as a symbol for this purpose.


                   NOTES - CANTO XVII.
-
  The fell monster.
    Fraud.
-
  A pouch.
    A purse bearing the armorial bearing of each.
-
  A yellow purse.
    The arms of the Gianfigliazzi of Florence.
-
  Another.
    Those of the Ubbriachi, another Florentine family of high
distinction.
-
  A fat and azure swine.
    The arms of the Scrovigni, a noble family of Padua.
-
  Vitaliano.
    Vitaliano del Dente, a Paduan.
-
  That noble knight.
    Giovanni Bujamonti, a Florentine usurer, the most infamous of
his time.


                   NOTES - CANTO XVIII.
-
  With us beyond.
    Beyond the middle point they went the same way with us, but
their pace was quicker than ours.
-
  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 lengthwise by a partition; and ordered that all those
who were going to St. Peter's should keep one side, and those
returning the other.
-
  The castle.
    Sant' Angelo, originally the mausoleum of Adrian, and made a
citadel in the Middle Ages.
-
  Venedico.
    Venedico Caccianimico, a Bolognese, who prevailed on his sister,
Ghisola, to prostitute herself to Obizzo da Este, Marquis of
Ferrara, who appeared in Canto xii.
-
  To answer Sipa.
    He denotes Bologna by its situation between the rivers Savena
and Reno and by a peculiarity of dialect which uses the affirmative
sipa instead of si or sia.
-
  Hypsipyle.
    She deceived the other women of Lemnos by concealing her father,
Thoas, when they had agreed to put all their males to death.
-
  Alessio.
    Of an ancient and considerable family in Lucca, called the
Interminei.


                   NOTES - CANTO XIX.
-
  Saint John's fair dome.
    The fonts of St. John the Baptist in Florence.
-
  O Boniface.
    The spirit mistakes Dante for Boniface VIII who was then alive and
whom he did not expect to arrive so soon because of a prophecy
predicting his death at a later period. Boniface died in 1303.
-
  In guile.
    He means that he arrived at papal power by fraudulent means and
afterwards abused it.
-
  In the mighty mantle I was robed.
    Nicholas III of the Orsini family whom Dante therefore calls
"figliuol dell' orsa," son of the she-bear. He died in 1281.
-
  From forth the west, a shepherd without law.
    Bertrand de Got, Archbishop of Bordeaux, who succeeded to the
pontificate in 1305 under the name of Clement V. He transferred the
holy see to Avignon in 1308 where it remained until 1376. He died in
1314.
-
  A new Jason.
    Son of Simon the High Priest, who offered King Antiochus a huge
sum for the high-priesthood. See 2 Maccab., iv.
-
  Of France's monarch.
    Philip IV of France.
                                                        
-
  Nor Peter.
    Acts of the Apostles i, 26.
-
  The condemned soul.
    Judas.
-
  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.
-
  The Evangelist.
    Rev. xvii, 1-3.
-
  Ah, Constantine.
    Reference to the pretended gift of the Lateran by Constantine to
Sylvester.


                   NOTES - CANTO XX.
-
  When she is dead.
    A play on the words "pity" and "piety."
-
  Before whose eyes.
    Amphiaraus, a soothsayer and one of the seven kings against
Thebes, who is said to have been swallowed up by an opening of the
earth.
-
  Tiresias.
    The Theban soothsayer who went to Troy with the Greeks. By
striking two serpents entwined together, he changed to woman's
shape, and only regained the figure of a man at the end of seven
years.
-
  Aruns.
    Etruscan diviner who foretold the victory of Caesar over Pompey.
-
  Manto.
    The daughter of Tiresias of Thebes, a city dedicated to Bacchus.
She founded Mantua, the country of Virgil.
-
  Camonica.
    Large valley of Lombardy.
-
  There is a spot.
    Prato di Fame, where the dioceses of Trento, Verona and Brescia
meet.
                                                         
-
  Peschiera.
    A garrison situated to the south of the lake where it empties to
form the Mincius; owned by the Scala family against whom the Bergamese
and Brescians banded together.
-
  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,
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.
-
  Michael Scot.
    A Scottish scholar who flourished in the thirteenth century and
gained the name of being a great necromancer after his death; he
superintended the translation of Aristotle at the invitation of
Frederick II and wrote several treatises on natural philosophy.
-
  Guido Bonatti.
    An astrologer of Forli on whose skill Guido da Montefeltro, lord
of Forli, so much relied that he is reported never to have gone into
battle except at the hour recommended by Bonatti as fortunate.
-
  Asdente.
    A shoemaker of Padua who deserted his business to practice
divination and attracted much public notice at the time.
-
  Cain with fork of thorns.
    The moon designated by a phrase comparable to "the man in the
moon."


                   NOTES - CANTO XXI.
-
  One of Santa Zita's elders.
    The elders or chief magistrates of Lucca where Santa Zita was held
in special veneration. This sinner is supposed to have been named
Martino Botaio.
-
  Except Bonturo, barterers.
    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.
-
  The hallow'd visage.
    A representation of the head of Christ, worshipped at Lucca.
-
  Is other swimming than in Serchio's wave.
    The river that flows by Lucca.
-
  From Caprona.
    The surrender of the castle of Caprona to the combined forces of
Florence and Lucca on the condition that the garrison should march out
in safety; Dante was a witness of this event which took place in 1290.
-
  Yesterday.
    This passage fixes the time of Dante's descent at Good Friday of
the year 1300, and at the thirty-fifth year of the poet's life. At
Christ's death, the convulsion which shook the earth reached even to
Hell and the bridge over the pits of the hypocrites was destroyed.


                   NOTES - CANTO XXII.
-
  Scouring thy plains.
    Probably reference to the battle of Camaldino when the Guelphs
of Florence defeated the Ghibellines of Arezzo; Dante took part.
-
  Born in Navarre's domain.
    The name of this peculator is said to have been Ciampolo.
-
  The good King Thibault.
    Thibault I, King of Navarre, whom the historian Mariana commends
for his desire to aid in the war in the Holy Land and reprehends for
oppressing the rights and privileges of the church; died in 1233.
-
  Their chief.
    Barbariccia, head of the ten sent to escort the two poets.
-
  The friar Gomita.
    Entrusted by Nino de' Viconti with the government of Gallura,
one of the four jurisdictions into which Sardinia is divided. He
took a bribe from Nino's enemies whom he had in his power and
allowed them to escape.
-
  Michel Zanche.
    The president of Logodoro, another of the four Sardinian
jurisdictions.


                   NOTES - CANTO XXIII.
-
  Aesop's fable.
    Reference to a fable, not in Aesop, about the frog who offered
to carry the mouse across ditch with the intention of drowning him,
but who was carried off, with his victim, by a kite.
-
  Monks in Cologne.
    They wore their cowls unusually large.
-
  Frederick's.
    The Emperor Frederick II is said to have punished those who were
guilty of high treason by wrapping them in lead and casting them
into a furnace.
-
  Joyous friars.
    Two knights, M. Catalano de' Malavolti, a Guelph, and M. Loderingo
degli Andalo, a Ghibelline, who were imported by the Ghibelline rulers
of Florence to pacify the discontented people; they were of the
order of Joyous Friars, called Knights of St. Mary, and were
supposed to act in this situation as mediators and helpers of the
people, and save the commonwealth unnecessary expense. but they
connived with each other and promoted their own advantage rather
than that of the public.
-
  Gardingo's vicinage.
    The name of that part of the city which was inhabited by the
powerful Ghibelline family of the Uberti, and destroyed under the
partial and iniquitous administration of Catalano and Loderingo.
-
  That pierced spirit.
    Caiaphas.
-
  The father of his consort.
    Annas, father-in-law to Caiaphas.
                                                      
-
  He is a liar.
    John viii. 44.


                   NOTES - CANTO XXIV.
-
  In the year's early nonage.
    The latter part of January when the sun enters Aquarius and the
equinox is drawing near, when the hoar-frosts often wear the
appearance of snow in the morning, but are melted by the rising sun.
-
  A longer ladder.
    Purgatory.
-
  Vanni Fucci.
    Said to have been an illegitimate offspring of the family of
Lazari in Pistoia, who robbed the sacristy of the church of St.
James in Pistoia and charged Vanni della Nona with the sacrilege for
which he was put to death.
-
  Pistoia.
    In May, 1301, the Bianchi party of Pistoia, with the assistance of
the Bianchi, who ruled Florence, drove out the Neri from the former
place, destroying their houses, palaces, and farms.
-
  Then Florence.
    Soon after the Bianchi will be expelled from Florence, the Neri
will prevail, and the laws and people will be changed.
-
  From Valdimagra.
    The commentators explain this prophetical threat as alluding to
the victory by the Marquis Morello Malaspina of Valdimagra who put
himself at the head of the Neri and defeated the Bianchi at Campo
Piceno near Pistoia.


                   NOTES - CANTO XXV.
-
  Thy seed.
    Thy ancestry.
-
  Not him.
    Capaneus. See Canto xiv.
-
  On Maremma's marsh.
    An extensive tract near the seashore of Tuscany.
-
  Cacus.
    Son of Vulcan who stole from Hercules some of Geryon's cattle
and dragged them to his cave under the Aventine.
-
  A hundred blows.
    Less than ten blows out of the hundred Hercules gave him had
deprived him of feeling.
-
  Cianfa.
    Said to have been of the family of Donati, Florence.
-
  Agnello.
    Agnello Brunelleschi.
                                                        
-
  In that part.
    The navel.
-
  Sabellus.
    With Nasidius, soldier in Cato's army; both met horrible deaths
from the bite of animals.
-
  Cadmus and Arethusa.
    The first was changed to a snake, the second, to a fountain.
-
  Buoso. Said by some to have been of the Donati family, but by
others, of the Abbati.
-
  Sciancato.
    Puccio Sciancato, a noted robber.
-
  Gaville.
    Francesco Guercio Cavalcante was killed at Gaville near Florence
and in revenge for his death several inhabitants of the district
were put to death.


                   NOTES - CANTO XXVI
-
  Shalt feel what Prato.
    A prophecy of the calamities soon to befall Florence which,
Dante says, even her nearest neighbor, Prato, would wish her.
-
  As he whose wrongs.
    II Kings ii.
-
  Ascending from that funeral pile.
    The flame is said to have divided on the funeral piles of Eteocles
and Polynices, as if conscious of the enmity that actuated them
while living.
-
  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.
-
  Deidamia.
    Daughter of Lycomedes, king of Sciros, to whom Achilles was sent
by his mother to save him from the fate awaiting him at Troy.
-
  Her Palladium.
    Ulysses and Diomedes, disguised as beggars, stole the Palladium
from the temple of Minerva.
-
  Caieta.
    Virgil, Aeneid, vii.
                                                       
-
  The strait pass.
    The straits of Gibraltar.
-
  Ceuta.
    African city on Strait of Gibraltar.
-
  A mountain dim.
    Purgatory, supposedly separated by a long space of sea or land
from regions inhabited by men and placed in the ocean reaching as
far as the lunar circle so that the waters of the deluge did not reach
it.


                   NOTES - CANTO XXVII.
-
  The Sicilian bull.
    The engine of torture invented by Perillus for the tyrant
Phalaris.
-
  Romagna.
    A territorial division of Italy which now stretches over the
provinces of Bologna, Ferrara, Ravenna and Forli.
-
  Of the mountains there.
    Montefeltro.
-
  Polenta's eagle.
    The arms of Guido Novello da Polenta, Dante's last and most
munificent patron: Guido made himself master of Ravenna in 1265, but
was deprived of his sovereignty in 1322 and died in Bologna. During
his supremacy, he extended his rule over Cervia, a small maritime city
about fifteen miles south of Ravenna.
-
  The land.
    The inhabitants of the territory of Forli in 1282 were able to
defeat the French army besieging them through a stratagem of Guido
da Montefeltro, their governor. Dante informs the former ruler that
Forli is now in possession of Sinibalde Ordolaffi, or Ardelaffi,
whom he designates by his coat of arms, a lion vert.
-
  The old mastiff of Verruchio and the young.
    Malatesta and Malatestino, his son, lords of Rimini; Verruchio was
the name of their castle. Malatestino was perhaps the husband of
Francesca, see note, Canto v, Francesca.
-
  Montagna.
    Montagna de' Parcitati, a noble knight and leader of the
Ghibelline party at Rimini, murdered by Malatestino.
                                                      
-
  Lamone's city and Santerno's.
    Lamone is the river at Faenza, and Santerno at Imola.
-
  The lion of the snowy lair.
    Machinardo Pagano whose arms were a lion azure on a field argent.
-
  Whose flank is wash'd of Savio's wave.
    Cesena, situated at the foot of a mountain and washed by the river
Savio which often descends with rapidity from the Apennines.
-
  A man of arms.
    Guido da Montefeltro.
-
  The high priest.
    Boniface VIII.
-
  The chief of the new Pharisees.
    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 and offered him absolution for his past sins, and for that
which he was then tempting him to commit. Guido's advice was that kind
words and fair promises would put his enemies into his power, and they
accordingly soon afterwards fell into the snare laid for them, A.D.
1298.
-
  Nor against Acre.
                                                      
    Allusion to the renegade Christians who assisted the Saracens in
1291 to recover St. John d'Acre, the last possession of the Christians
in the Holy Land and a valuable trading centre.
-
  Constantine.
    Sylvester had to flee from Constantine's persecution according
to the legend, but when Constantine contracted leprosy, he sent for
Sylvester who healed him.
-
  My predecessor.
    Celestine V.
-
  With performance scant.
    Boniface VIII broke his promise of restoring to them the estates
and dignities of the Colonnas.


                   NOTES - CANTO XXVIII.
-
  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." Livy, Hist., xxiii. 12.
-
  Guiscard's Norman steel.
    Robert Guiscard, who conquered the kingdom Naples, and died in
1110. He is introduced in Paradise, xviii.
-
  And those the rest.
    The army of Manfred through the treachery of the Apulian troops
was overcome by Charles of Anjou in 1265 and fell in such number
that the bones of the slain were still gathered near Ceperano. See
Purg., iii.
-
  O Tagliacozzo.
    Reference to the victory which Charles gained in 1268 over
Conradino by the sage advice of Sieur de Valeri.
-
  Ali.
    The disciple of Mahomet who later founded his own sect.
-
  Dolcino.
    In 1305, a friar called Dolcino who belonged to no regular order
raised in Novara, Lombardy, a large company of the meaner sort of
people, declared himself a true apostle of Christ, and promulgated a
community of property and wives and many other heretical doctrines.
His more than three thousand followers lived promiscuously in the
mountains, but after about two years, the sect diminished, and Dolcino
was taken by the people of Novara and burnt with Margarita, his
companion, and many others of his followers.
-
  Medicina.
    A place in the territory of Bologna. Piero fomented dissensions
there and among the leaders of neighboring states.
                                                     
-
  The pleasant land.
    Lombardy.
-
  Vercelli... Mercabo.
    A city and castle marking the beginning of Lombardy.
-
  The twain.
    Guido del Cassero and Angiolello da Cagnano, two of the
worthiest and most distinguished citizens of Fano; invited by
Malatestino da Rimini to an entertainment on the pretence that he
had some important business to transact with them, they were drowned
according to Malatestino's instructions as they crossed the river near
Cattolica.
-
  Focara's wind.
    Focara is a mountain from which blows a wind peculiarly
dangerous to navigators.
-
  The doubt in Caesar's mind.
    Curio, whose speech determined Julius Caesar to proceed when he
had arrived at Rimini (Ariminum) and doubted whether he should
prosecute the civil war.
-
  Mosca.
    Buondelmonte was engaged to marry a lady of the Amidei family, but
broke his promise and married one of the Donati. At a meeting of the
Amidei to consider the best means of revenging the insult. Mosca degli
Uberti urged the assassination of Buondelmonte. This advice was the
source of many terrible calamities that happened to Florence and was
the beginning of the Guelph and Ghibelline parties there.
-
  Bertrand.
                                                     
    Bertrand de Born, Vicomte de Hautefort, near Perigueux in Guienne,
who incited John to rebel against his father, Henry II of England.


                   NOTES - CANTO XXIX.
-
  The time.
    A little after mid-day.
-
  Geri of Bello.
    A kinsman of Dante's, murdered by one of the Sacchetti family;
he was the son of Bello, the poet's great-uncle.
-
  Of Valdichiana.
    Stagnation of water made this valley unwholesome in the heat of
autumn until the Emperor Leopold II had the valley drained.
-
  Maremma's pestilent fen.
    See note, xxv, On Maremma's marsh.
-
  In Aegina.
    The fable of the ants changed into Myrmidons.
-
  Arezzo was my dwelling.
    Grifolino of Arezzo.
-
  Albero of Sienna.
    The son of the Bishop of Sienna who put Grifolino to death at
Albero's request.
                                                       
-
  ...was ever race
  Light as Sienna's?
    See also Purg., xiii.
-
  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. Niccolo was the
inventor of a new manner of using cloves. Out of the sum raised from
the sale of their estates, they built in common a palace designed
for luxurious enjoyment.
-
  In that garden.
    Sienna.
-
  Capocchio's ghost.
    Said to have been a fellow-student of Dante's in natural
philosophy.


                   NOTES - CANTO XXX.
-
  Athamas.
    King of Thebes, husband of Semele's sister, Ino.
-
  Polyxena.
    Sacrificed by demand of the spirit of Achilles when the Greeks
landed at Thrace.
-
  Polydorus.
    Hecuba's only remaining son whom she found murdered by the king of
Thrace as she returned from seeking water to wash the dead
Polyxena's wounds.
-
  Schicchi.
    Gianni Schicchi of the family of Cavalcanti impersonated others so
well that he was employed by Simon Donati to pretend to be Buoso
Donati, recently deceased, and to make up a will leaving Simon his
heir; Schicchi's reward was a mare of great value called "the lady
of the herd."
-
  Myrrha.
    See Ovid, Metam., x.
-
  Adamo's woe.
    Adamo of Brescia, at the instigation of Guido, Alessandro, and
their brother Aghinulfo, lords of Romena, counterfeited the coin of
Florence and was burnt for the crime.
-
  Casentino.
    Romena is a part of Casentino.
                                                        
-
  Romena.
    Castle near the source of the Arno.
-
  Branda's limpid spring.
    Fountain in Sienna.
-
  Three carats of alloy.
    The florin was a coin that ought to have had twenty-four carats of
pure gold.
-
  The false accuser.
    Potiphar's wife.
-
  Sinon.
    Who persuaded the Trojans to admit the wooden horse into the city.


                   NOTES - CANTO XXXI.
-
  His father's javelin.
    Telephos, king of Mysia, was wounded by Achilles' spear and
could only be healed by its rust; he had inherited the spear from
his father.
-
  Orlando.
    Or Roland, Charlemagne's famous knight, who won this horn from the
giant Jatmund; the horn was magical and could be heard twenty miles
away.
-
  Montereggion.
    Castle near Sienna.
-
  The pine.
    A large pine made of bronze which decorated the top of the
belfry of St. Peter.
-
  Raphel, etc.
    These unmeaning sounds are meant to express the confusion of
languages at the building of the tower of Babel.
-
  Ephialtes.
    Son of Neptune, brother of Otus.
-
  Briareus.
    Son of Neptune and Terra.
                                                       
-
  Antaeus.
    Son of same.
-
  The fortunate vale.
    Country near Carthage, where Scipio conquered Hannibal.
-
  Tityus.
    Son of Jupiter slain by Apollo for attempted assault on Latona.
-
  Typhon.
    A giant destroyed by Jupiter and buried under Mt. Aetna.
-
  Alcides.
    Hercules.
-
  The tower of Carisenda.
    Leaning tower of Bologna.


                   NOTES - CANTO XXXII.
-
  Amphion.
    Induced the rocks to form of a wall around Thebes by charming them
with his lyre.
-
  Tabernich or Pietrapana.
    The one a mountain in Solavonia, the other in that tract country
called the Garfagnana, not far from Lucca.
-
  To where modest shame appears.
    As high as the face.
-
  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.
-
  Not him.
    Mordrec, son of King Arthur. In the romance of Lancelot of the
Lake, Arthur having discovered the traitorous intentions of his son,
pierces him through with the stroke of his lance so that the sunbeam
passes through the body of Mordrec.
-
  Focaccia.
    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.
-
  Mascheroni.
    Sasso Mascheroni, a Florentine, who also murdered his uncle.
                                                      
-
  Camiccione.
    Camiccione de' Pazzi of Valdarno who treacherously put to death
his kinsman Ubertino.
-
  Carlino.
    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 against a siege for 29 days in the
summer of 1302.
-
  Montaperto.
    The defeat of the Guelphs here was caused by the treachery of
Bocca degli Abbati who, during the engagement, cut off the hand of
Giacopo del Vacca de' Pazzi, the Florentine standard-bearer.
-
  Antenora.
    So-called from Antenor who betrayed Troy, his country.
-
  Him of Duera.
    Buoso of Cremona, who was bribed by Guy de Montfort to leave a
pass he was supposed to defend for the Ghibellines open to the army of
Charles of Anjou in 1265; the people of Cremona were so enraged they
extirpated the whole family.
-
  Beccaria.
    Abbot of Vallombrosa, the Pope's Legate at Florence where he was
beheaded on the discovery of his intrigues for the Ghibellines.
-
  Soldanieri.
                                                      
    Gianni Soldanieri put himself at the head of the people of
Florence and thereby brought mischief to the Ghibelline party and
his own ruin.
-
  Ganellon.
    Betrayer of Charlemagne.
-
  Tribaldello.
    Trobaldello de' Manfredi, bribed to betray the city of Faenza,
1282.
-
  Tydeus.
    One of the seven kings at Thebes who called for the head of the
killed Menalippus and gnawed on it before he expired himself.


                   NOTES - CANTO XXXIII.
-
  Count Ugolino.
    During the factional strife between the Guelphs and the
Ghibellines in Pisa in 1288, the Pisan people, enraged against this
man for many treacheries, imprisoned him with two sons and two
grandchildren in a tower on the Piazza of the Anziani; the tower was
locked, the key thrown into the Arno and all food was withheld from
them so that they died of hunger in a few days. The Archbishop
Ruggiero degli Ubaldini of the Ghibelline faction was instrumental
in turning the people against Count Ugolino. Judge Nino di Gallura de'
Visconti of the Guelph faction was one of those betrayed by Ugolino;
he is mentioned in Purgatory, vii.
-
  Unto the mountain.
    S. Giuliano between Pisa and Lucca.
-
  Lanfranchi. etc.
    Members of the Archbishop's party.
-
  Capraia and Gorgona.
    Small islands near the mouth of the Arno.
-
  The friar Alberigo.
    Alberigo de' Manfredi of Faenza, one of the Joyous Friars who
quarrelled with some of his brotherhood, and under the pretense of
wishing to be reconciled, invited them to a banquet where, at the
signal of his calling for the fruit, assassins rushed in and
murdered them.
-
  Ptolomea.
    Named for Ptolemy, son of Abubus, by whom Simon and his sons
were murdered at a great banquet he had for them; see Maccab., xvi. Or
from Ptolemy, king of Egypt, the betrayer of Pompey the Great.
-
  Branca Doria.
    The family of Doria possessed great influence in Genoa. Branca
is said to have murdered his father-in-law, Michel Zanche,
introduced in Canto xxii.
                                                     
-
  Romagna's darkest spirit.
    The friar Alberigo.


                   NOTES - CANTO XXXIV.
-
  Three faces.
    The first is anger, signified by red; the second, envy,
signified by being between pale and yellow; the third, melancholy
signified by black.
-
  Brutus.
    Commentators explain the presence of Brutus and Cassius in the
same place of punishment as Judas as the result of the belief that
Julius Caesar whom they betrayed was the founder of the Roman
Empire; since the Empire is the temporal arm of God's authority, its
betrayers would go to the same place as the betrayer of Christ, the
founder of the Church.
-
-
                               THE END
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