The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Divine Comedy by Dante, Illustrated, Hell, Volume 06, by Dante Alighieri

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Title: The Divine Comedy by Dante, Illustrated, Hell, Volume 06

Author: Dante Alighieri

Release Date: August 7, 2004 [EBook #8784]

Language: English

Credits: Produced by David Widger

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ***

THE VISION

OF

HELL, PURGATORY, AND PARADISE

BY

DANTE ALIGHIERI

TRANSLATED BY

THE REV. H. F. CARY, M.A.

HELL

OR THE INFERNO

Part 6.

LIST OF CANTOS

Canto 13

Canto 14

Canto 15

Canto 16

Canto 17

CANTO XIII

ERE Nessus yet had reach'd the other bank,

We enter'd on a forest, where no track

Of steps had worn a way.  Not verdant there

The foliage, but of dusky hue; not light

The boughs and tapering, but with knares deform'd

And matted thick: fruits there were none, but thorns

Instead, with venom fill'd. Less sharp than these,

Less intricate the brakes, wherein abide

Those animals, that hate the cultur'd fields,

Betwixt Corneto and Cecina's stream.

Here the brute Harpies make their nest, the same

Who from the Strophades the Trojan band

Drove with dire boding of their future woe.

Broad are their pennons, of the human form

Their neck and count'nance, arm'd with talons keen

The feet, and the huge belly fledge with wings

These sit and wail on the drear mystic wood.

The kind instructor in these words began:

"Ere farther thou proceed, know thou art now

I' th' second round, and shalt be, till thou come

Upon the horrid sand: look therefore well

Around thee, and such things thou shalt behold,

As would my speech discredit."  On all sides

I heard sad plainings breathe, and none could see

From whom they might have issu'd.  In amaze

Fast bound I stood.  He, as it seem'd, believ'd,

That I had thought so many voices came

From some amid those thickets close conceal'd,

And thus his speech resum'd: "If thou lop off

A single twig from one of those ill plants,

The thought thou hast conceiv'd shall vanish quite."

Thereat a little stretching forth my hand,

From a great wilding gather'd I a branch,

And straight the trunk exclaim'd: "Why pluck'st thou me?"

Then as the dark blood trickled down its side,

These words it added: "Wherefore tear'st me thus?

Is there no touch of mercy in thy breast?

Men once were we, that now are rooted here.

Thy hand might well have spar'd us, had we been

The souls of serpents."  As a brand yet green,

That burning at one end from the' other sends

A groaning sound, and hisses with the wind

That forces out its way, so burst at once,

Forth from the broken splinter words and blood.

I, letting fall the bough, remain'd as one

Assail'd by terror, and the sage replied:

"If he, O injur'd spirit! could have believ'd

What he hath seen but in my verse describ'd,

He never against thee had stretch'd his hand.

But I, because the thing surpass'd belief,

Prompted him to this deed, which even now

Myself I rue.  But tell me, who thou wast;

That, for this wrong to do thee some amends,

In the upper world (for thither to return

Is granted him) thy fame he may revive."

"That pleasant word of thine," the trunk replied

"Hath so inveigled me, that I from speech

Cannot refrain, wherein if I indulge

A little longer, in the snare detain'd,

Count it not grievous.  I it was, who held

Both keys to Frederick's heart, and turn'd the wards,

Opening and shutting, with a skill so sweet,

That besides me, into his inmost breast

Scarce any other could admittance find.

The faith I bore to my high charge was such,

It cost me the life-blood that warm'd my veins.

The harlot, who ne'er turn'd her gloating eyes

From Caesar's household, common vice and pest

Of courts, 'gainst me inflam'd the minds of all;

And to Augustus they so spread the flame,

That my glad honours chang'd to bitter woes.

My soul, disdainful and disgusted, sought

Refuge in death from scorn, and I became,

Just as I was, unjust toward myself.

By the new roots, which fix this stem, I swear,

That never faith I broke to my liege lord,

Who merited such honour; and of you,

If any to the world indeed return,

Clear he from wrong my memory, that lies

Yet prostrate under envy's cruel blow."

First somewhat pausing, till the mournful words

Were ended, then to me the bard began:

"Lose not the time; but speak and of him ask,

If more thou wish to learn."  Whence I replied:

"Question thou him again of whatsoe'er

Will, as thou think'st, content me; for no power

Have I to ask, such pity' is at my heart."

He thus resum'd; "So may he do for thee

Freely what thou entreatest, as thou yet

Be pleas'd, imprison'd Spirit! to declare,

How in these gnarled joints the soul is tied;

And whether any ever from such frame

Be loosen'd, if thou canst, that also tell."

Thereat the trunk breath'd hard, and the wind soon

Chang'd into sounds articulate like these;

Briefly ye shall be answer'd.  "When departs

The fierce soul from the body, by itself

Thence torn asunder, to the seventh gulf

By Minos doom'd, into the wood it falls,

No place assign'd, but wheresoever chance

Hurls it, there sprouting, as a grain of spelt,

It rises to a sapling, growing thence

A savage plant.  The Harpies, on its leaves

Then feeding, cause both pain and for the pain

A vent to grief.  We, as the rest, shall come

For our own spoils, yet not so that with them

We may again be clad; for what a man

Takes from himself it is not just he have.

Here we perforce shall drag them; and throughout

The dismal glade our bodies shall be hung,

Each on the wild thorn of his wretched shade."

Attentive yet to listen to the trunk

We stood, expecting farther speech, when us

A noise surpris'd, as when a man perceives

The wild boar and the hunt approach his place

Of station'd watch, who of the beasts and boughs

Loud rustling round him hears.  And lo! there came

Two naked, torn with briers, in headlong flight,

That they before them broke each fan o' th' wood.

"Haste now," the foremost cried, "now haste thee death!"

The' other, as seem'd, impatient of delay

Exclaiming, "Lano! not so bent for speed

Thy sinews, in the lists of Toppo's field."

And then, for that perchance no longer breath

Suffic'd him, of himself and of a bush

One group he made.  Behind them was the wood

Full of black female mastiffs, gaunt and fleet,

As greyhounds that have newly slipp'd the leash.

On him, who squatted down, they stuck their fangs,

And having rent him piecemeal bore away

The tortur'd limbs.  My guide then seiz'd my hand,

And led me to the thicket, which in vain

Mourn'd through its bleeding wounds: "O Giacomo

Of Sant' Andrea! what avails it thee,"

It cried, "that of me thou hast made thy screen?

For thy ill life what blame on me recoils?"

When o'er it he had paus'd, my master spake:

"Say who wast thou, that at so many points

Breath'st out with blood thy lamentable speech?"

He answer'd: "Oh, ye spirits: arriv'd in time

To spy the shameful havoc, that from me

My leaves hath sever'd thus, gather them up,

And at the foot of their sad parent-tree

Carefully lay them.  In that city' I dwelt,

Who for the Baptist her first patron chang'd,

Whence he for this shall cease not with his art

To work her woe: and if there still remain'd not

On Arno's passage some faint glimpse of him,

Those citizens, who rear'd once more her walls

Upon the ashes left by Attila,

Had labour'd without profit of their toil.

I slung the fatal noose from my own roof."

CANTO XIV

SOON as the charity of native land

Wrought in my bosom, I the scatter'd leaves

Collected, and to him restor'd, who now

Was hoarse with utt'rance.  To the limit thence

We came, which from the third the second round

Divides, and where of justice is display'd

Contrivance horrible.  Things then first seen

Clearlier to manifest, I tell how next

A plain we reach'd, that from its sterile bed

Each plant repell'd. The mournful wood waves round

Its garland on all sides, as round the wood

Spreads the sad foss.  There, on the very edge,

Our steps we stay'd.  It was an area wide

Of arid sand and thick, resembling most

The soil that erst by Cato's foot was trod.

Vengeance of Heav'n! Oh! how shouldst thou be fear'd

By all, who read what here my eyes beheld!

Of naked spirits many a flock I saw,

All weeping piteously, to different laws

Subjected: for on the' earth some lay supine,

Some crouching close were seated, others pac'd

Incessantly around; the latter tribe,

More numerous, those fewer who beneath

The torment lay, but louder in their grief.

O'er all the sand fell slowly wafting down

Dilated flakes of fire, as flakes of snow

On Alpine summit, when the wind is hush'd.

As in the torrid Indian clime, the son

Of Ammon saw upon his warrior band

Descending, solid flames, that to the ground

Came down: whence he bethought him with his troop

To trample on the soil; for easier thus

The vapour was extinguish'd, while alone;

So fell the eternal fiery flood, wherewith

The marble glow'd underneath, as under stove

The viands, doubly to augment the pain.

Unceasing was the play of wretched hands,

Now this, now that way glancing, to shake off

The heat, still falling fresh.  I thus began:

"Instructor! thou who all things overcom'st,

Except the hardy demons, that rush'd forth

To stop our entrance at the gate, say who

Is yon huge spirit, that, as seems, heeds not

The burning, but lies writhen in proud scorn,

As by the sultry tempest immatur'd?"

Straight he himself, who was aware I ask'd

My guide of him, exclaim'd: "Such as I was

When living, dead such now I am.  If Jove

Weary his workman out, from whom in ire

He snatch'd the lightnings, that at my last day

Transfix'd me, if the rest be weary out

At their black smithy labouring by turns

In Mongibello, while he cries aloud;

"Help, help, good Mulciber!" as erst he cried

In the Phlegraean warfare, and the bolts

Launch he full aim'd at me with all his might,

He never should enjoy a sweet revenge."

Then thus my guide, in accent higher rais'd

Than I before had heard him: "Capaneus!

Thou art more punish'd, in that this thy pride

Lives yet unquench'd: no torrent, save thy rage,

Were to thy fury pain proportion'd full."

Next turning round to me with milder lip

He spake: "This of the seven kings was one,

Who girt the Theban walls with siege, and held,

As still he seems to hold, God in disdain,

And sets his high omnipotence at nought.

But, as I told him, his despiteful mood

Is ornament well suits the breast that wears it.

Follow me now; and look thou set not yet

Thy foot in the hot sand, but to the wood

Keep ever close."  Silently on we pass'd

To where there gushes from the forest's bound

A little brook, whose crimson'd wave yet lifts

My hair with horror.  As the rill, that runs

From Bulicame, to be portion'd out

Among the sinful women; so ran this

Down through the sand, its bottom and each bank

Stone-built, and either margin at its side,

Whereon I straight perceiv'd our passage lay.

"Of all that I have shown thee, since that gate

We enter'd first, whose threshold is to none

Denied, nought else so worthy of regard,

As is this river, has thine eye discern'd,

O'er which the flaming volley all is quench'd."

So spake my guide; and I him thence besought,

That having giv'n me appetite to know,

The food he too would give, that hunger crav'd.

"In midst of ocean," forthwith he began,

"A desolate country lies, which Crete is nam'd,

Under whose monarch in old times the world

Liv'd pure and chaste.  A mountain rises there,

Call'd Ida, joyous once with leaves and streams,

Deserted now like a forbidden thing.

It was the spot which Rhea, Saturn's spouse,

Chose for the secret cradle of her son;

And better to conceal him, drown'd in shouts

His infant cries.  Within the mount, upright

An ancient form there stands and huge, that turns

His shoulders towards Damiata, and at Rome

As in his mirror looks.  Of finest gold

His head is shap'd, pure silver are the breast

And arms; thence to the middle is of brass.

And downward all beneath well-temper'd steel,

Save the right foot of potter's clay, on which

Than on the other more erect he stands,

Each part except the gold, is rent throughout;

And from the fissure tears distil, which join'd

Penetrate to that cave.  They in their course

Thus far precipitated down the rock

Form Acheron, and Styx, and Phlegethon;

Then by this straiten'd channel passing hence

Beneath, e'en to the lowest depth of all,

Form there Cocytus, of whose lake (thyself

Shall see it) I here give thee no account."

Then I to him: "If from our world this sluice

Be thus deriv'd; wherefore to us but now

Appears it at this edge?"  He straight replied:

"The place, thou know'st, is round; and though great part

Thou have already pass'd, still to the left

Descending to the nethermost, not yet

Hast thou the circuit made of the whole orb.

Wherefore if aught of new to us appear,

It needs not bring up wonder in thy looks."

Then I again inquir'd: "Where flow the streams

Of Phlegethon and Lethe? for of one

Thou tell'st not, and the other of that shower,

Thou say'st, is form'd."  He answer thus return'd:

"Doubtless thy questions all well pleas'd I hear.

Yet the red seething wave might have resolv'd

One thou proposest.  Lethe thou shalt see,

But not within this hollow, in the place,

Whither to lave themselves the spirits go,

Whose blame hath been by penitence remov'd."

He added: "Time is now we quit the wood.

Look thou my steps pursue: the margins give

Safe passage, unimpeded by the flames;

For over them all vapour is extinct."

CANTO XV

One of the solid margins bears us now

Envelop'd in the mist, that from the stream

Arising, hovers o'er, and saves from fire

Both piers and water.  As the Flemings rear

Their mound, 'twixt Ghent and Bruges, to chase back

The ocean, fearing his tumultuous tide

That drives toward them, or the Paduans theirs

Along the Brenta, to defend their towns

And castles, ere the genial warmth be felt

On Chiarentana's top; such were the mounds,

So fram'd, though not in height or bulk to these

Made equal, by the master, whosoe'er

He was, that rais'd them here.  We from the wood

Were not so far remov'd, that turning round

I might not have discern'd it, when we met

A troop of spirits, who came beside the pier.

They each one ey'd us, as at eventide

One eyes another under a new moon,

And toward us sharpen'd their sight as keen,

As an old tailor at his needle's eye.

Thus narrowly explor'd by all the tribe,

I was agniz'd of one, who by the skirt

Caught me, and cried, "What wonder have we here!"

And I, when he to me outstretch'd his arm,

Intently fix'd my ken on his parch'd looks,

That although smirch'd with fire, they hinder'd not

But I remember'd him; and towards his face

My hand inclining, answer'd: "Sir! Brunetto!

"And art thou here?"  He thus to me: "My son!

Oh let it not displease thee, if Brunetto

Latini but a little space with thee

Turn back, and leave his fellows to proceed."

I thus to him replied: "Much as I can,

I thereto pray thee; and if thou be willing,

That I here seat me with thee, I consent;

His leave, with whom I journey, first obtain'd."

"O son!" said he, "whoever of this throng

One instant stops, lies then a hundred years,

No fan to ventilate him, when the fire

Smites sorest.  Pass thou therefore on.  I close

Will at thy garments walk, and then rejoin

My troop, who go mourning their endless doom."

I dar'd not from the path descend to tread

On equal ground with him, but held my head

Bent down, as one who walks in reverent guise.

"What chance or destiny," thus he began,

"Ere the last day conducts thee here below?

And who is this, that shows to thee the way?"

"There up aloft," I answer'd, "in the life

Serene, I wander'd in a valley lost,

Before mine age had to its fullness reach'd.

But yester-morn I left it: then once more

Into that vale returning, him I met;

And by this path homeward he leads me back."

"If thou," he answer'd, "follow but thy star,

Thou canst not miss at last a glorious haven:

Unless in fairer days my judgment err'd.

And if my fate so early had not chanc'd,

Seeing the heav'ns thus bounteous to thee, I

Had gladly giv'n thee comfort in thy work.

But that ungrateful and malignant race,

Who in old times came down from Fesole,

Ay and still smack of their rough mountain-flint,

Will for thy good deeds shew thee enmity.

Nor wonder; for amongst ill-savour'd crabs

It suits not the sweet fig-tree lay her fruit.

Old fame reports them in the world for blind,

Covetous, envious, proud.  Look to it well:

Take heed thou cleanse thee of their ways.  For thee

Thy fortune hath such honour in reserve,

That thou by either party shalt be crav'd

With hunger keen: but be the fresh herb far

From the goat's tooth.  The herd of Fesole

May of themselves make litter, not touch the plant,

If any such yet spring on their rank bed,

In which the holy seed revives, transmitted

From those true Romans, who still there remain'd,

When it was made the nest of so much ill."

"Were all my wish fulfill'd," I straight replied,

"Thou from the confines of man's nature yet

Hadst not been driven forth; for in my mind

Is fix'd, and now strikes full upon my heart

The dear, benign, paternal image, such

As thine was, when so lately thou didst teach me

The way for man to win eternity;

And how I priz'd the lesson, it behooves,

That, long as life endures, my tongue should speak,

What of my fate thou tell'st, that write I down:

And with another text to comment on

For her I keep it, the celestial dame,

Who will know all, if I to her arrive.

This only would I have thee clearly note:

That so my conscience have no plea against me;

Do fortune as she list, I stand prepar'd.

Not new or strange such earnest to mine ear.

Speed fortune then her wheel, as likes her best,

The clown his mattock; all things have their course."

Thereat my sapient guide upon his right

Turn'd himself back, then look'd at me and spake:

"He listens to good purpose who takes note."

I not the less still on my way proceed,

Discoursing with Brunetto, and inquire

Who are most known and chief among his tribe.

"To know of some is well;" thus he replied,

"But of the rest silence may best beseem.

Time would not serve us for report so long.

In brief I tell thee, that all these were clerks,

Men of great learning and no less renown,

By one same sin polluted in the world.

With them is Priscian, and Accorso's son

Francesco herds among that wretched throng:

And, if the wish of so impure a blotch

Possess'd thee, him thou also might'st have seen,

Who by the servants' servant was transferr'd

From Arno's seat to Bacchiglione, where

His ill-strain'd nerves he left.  I more would add,

But must from farther speech and onward way

Alike desist, for yonder I behold

A mist new-risen on the sandy plain.

A company, with whom I may not sort,

Approaches.  I commend my TREASURE to thee,

Wherein I yet survive; my sole request."

This said he turn'd, and seem'd as one of those,

Who o'er Verona's champain try their speed

For the green mantle, and of them he seem'd,

Not he who loses but who gains the prize.

CANTO XVI

NOW came I where the water's din was heard,

As down it fell into the other round,

Resounding like the hum of swarming bees:

When forth together issu'd from a troop,

That pass'd beneath the fierce tormenting storm,

Three spirits, running swift.  They towards us came,

And each one cried aloud, "Oh do thou stay!

Whom by the fashion of thy garb we deem

To be some inmate of our evil land."

Ah me! what wounds I mark'd upon their limbs,

Recent and old, inflicted by the flames!

E'en the remembrance of them grieves me yet.

Attentive to their cry my teacher paus'd,

And turn'd to me his visage, and then spake;

"Wait now! our courtesy these merit well:

And were 't not for the nature of the place,

Whence glide the fiery darts, I should have said,

That haste had better suited thee than them."

They, when we stopp'd, resum'd their ancient wail,

And soon as they had reach'd us, all the three

Whirl'd round together in one restless wheel.

As naked champions, smear'd with slippery oil,

Are wont intent to watch their place of hold

And vantage, ere in closer strife they meet;

Thus each one, as he wheel'd, his countenance

At me directed, so that opposite

The neck mov'd ever to the twinkling feet.

"If misery of this drear wilderness,"

Thus one began, "added to our sad cheer

And destitute, do call forth scorn on us

And our entreaties, let our great renown

Incline thee to inform us who thou art,

That dost imprint with living feet unharm'd

The soil of Hell.  He, in whose track thou see'st

My steps pursuing, naked though he be

And reft of all, was of more high estate

Than thou believest; grandchild of the chaste

Gualdrada, him they Guidoguerra call'd,

Who in his lifetime many a noble act

Achiev'd, both by his wisdom and his sword.

The other, next to me that beats the sand,

Is Aldobrandi, name deserving well,

In the' upper world, of honour; and myself

Who in this torment do partake with them,

Am Rusticucci, whom, past doubt, my wife

Of savage temper, more than aught beside

Hath to this evil brought."  If from the fire

I had been shelter'd, down amidst them straight

I then had cast me, nor my guide, I deem,

Would have restrain'd my going; but that fear

Of the dire burning vanquish'd the desire,

Which made me eager of their wish'd embrace.

I then began: "Not scorn, but grief much more,

Such as long time alone can cure, your doom

Fix'd deep within me, soon as this my lord

Spake words, whose tenour taught me to expect

That such a race, as ye are, was at hand.

I am a countryman of yours, who still

Affectionate have utter'd, and have heard

Your deeds and names renown'd.  Leaving the gall

For the sweet fruit I go, that a sure guide

Hath promis'd to me.  But behooves, that far

As to the centre first I downward tend."

"So may long space thy spirit guide thy limbs,"

He answer straight return'd; "and so thy fame

Shine bright, when thou art gone; as thou shalt tell,

If courtesy and valour, as they wont,

Dwell in our city, or have vanish'd clean?

For one amidst us late condemn'd to wail,

Borsiere, yonder walking with his peers,

Grieves us no little by the news he brings."

"An upstart multitude and sudden gains,

Pride and excess, O Florence! have in thee

Engender'd, so that now in tears thou mourn'st!"

Thus cried I with my face uprais'd, and they

All three, who for an answer took my words,

Look'd at each other, as men look when truth

Comes to their ear.  "If thou at other times,"

They all at once rejoin'd, "so easily

Satisfy those, who question, happy thou,

Gifted with words, so apt to speak thy thought!

Wherefore if thou escape this darksome clime,

Returning to behold the radiant stars,

When thou with pleasure shalt retrace the past,

See that of us thou speak among mankind."

This said, they broke the circle, and so swift

Fled, that as pinions seem'd their nimble feet.

Not in so short a time might one have said

"Amen," as they had vanish'd. Straight my guide

Pursu'd his track.  I follow'd; and small space

Had we pass'd onward, when the water's sound

Was now so near at hand, that we had scarce

Heard one another's speech for the loud din.

E'en as the river, that holds on its course

Unmingled, from the mount of Vesulo,

On the left side of Apennine, toward

The east, which Acquacheta higher up

They call, ere it descend into the vale,

At Forli by that name no longer known,

Rebellows o'er Saint Benedict, roll'd on

From the' Alpine summit down a precipice,

Where space enough to lodge a thousand spreads;

Thus downward from a craggy steep we found,

That this dark wave resounded, roaring loud,

So that the ear its clamour soon had stunn'd.

I had a cord that brac'd my girdle round,

Wherewith I erst had thought fast bound to take

The painted leopard.  This when I had all

Unloosen'd from me (so my master bade)

I gather'd up, and stretch'd it forth to him.

Then to the right he turn'd, and from the brink

Standing few paces distant, cast it down

Into the deep abyss.  "And somewhat strange,"

Thus to myself I spake, "signal so strange

Betokens, which my guide with earnest eye

Thus follows."  Ah! what caution must men use

With those who look not at the deed alone,

But spy into the thoughts with subtle skill!

"Quickly shall come," he said, "what I expect,

Thine eye discover quickly, that whereof

Thy thought is dreaming."  Ever to that truth,

Which but the semblance of a falsehood wears,

A man, if possible, should bar his lip;

Since, although blameless, he incurs reproach.

But silence here were vain; and by these notes

Which now I sing, reader! I swear to thee,

So may they favour find to latest times!

That through the gross and murky air I spied

A shape come swimming up, that might have quell'd

The stoutest heart with wonder, in such guise

As one returns, who hath been down to loose

An anchor grappled fast against some rock,

Or to aught else that in the salt wave lies,

Who upward springing close draws in his feet.

CANTO XVII

"LO! the fell monster with the deadly sting!

Who passes mountains, breaks through fenced walls

And firm embattled spears, and with his filth

Taints all the world!"  Thus me my guide address'd,

And beckon'd him, that he should come to shore,

Near to the stony causeway's utmost edge.

Forthwith that image vile of fraud appear'd,

His head and upper part expos'd on land,

But laid not on the shore his bestial train.

His face the semblance of a just man's wore,

So kind and gracious was its outward cheer;

The rest was serpent all: two shaggy claws

Reach'd to the armpits, and the back and breast,

And either side, were painted o'er with nodes

And orbits.  Colours variegated more

Nor Turks nor Tartars e'er on cloth of state

With interchangeable embroidery wove,

Nor spread Arachne o'er her curious loom.

As ofttimes a light skiff, moor'd to the shore,

Stands part in water, part upon the land;

Or, as where dwells the greedy German boor,

The beaver settles watching for his prey;

So on the rim, that fenc'd the sand with rock,

Sat perch'd the fiend of evil.  In the void

Glancing, his tail upturn'd its venomous fork,

With sting like scorpion's arm'd.  Then thus my guide:

"Now need our way must turn few steps apart,

Far as to that ill beast, who couches there."

Thereat toward the right our downward course

We shap'd, and, better to escape the flame

And burning marle, ten paces on the verge

Proceeded.  Soon as we to him arrive,

A little further on mine eye beholds

A tribe of spirits, seated on the sand

Near the wide chasm.  Forthwith my master spake:

"That to the full thy knowledge may extend

Of all this round contains, go now, and mark

The mien these wear: but hold not long discourse.

Till thou returnest, I with him meantime

Will parley, that to us he may vouchsafe

The aid of his strong shoulders."  Thus alone

Yet forward on the' extremity I pac'd

Of that seventh circle, where the mournful tribe

Were seated.  At the eyes forth gush'd their pangs.

Against the vapours and the torrid soil

Alternately their shifting hands they plied.

Thus use the dogs in summer still to ply

Their jaws and feet by turns, when bitten sore

By gnats, or flies, or gadflies swarming round.

Noting the visages of some, who lay

Beneath the pelting of that dolorous fire,

One of them all I knew not; but perceiv'd,

That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch

With colours and with emblems various mark'd,

On which it seem'd as if their eye did feed.

And when amongst them looking round I came,

A yellow purse I saw with azure wrought,

That wore a lion's countenance and port.

Then still my sight pursuing its career,

Another I beheld, than blood more red.

A goose display of whiter wing than curd.

And one, who bore a fat and azure swine

Pictur'd on his white scrip, addressed me thus:

"What dost thou in this deep?  Go now and know,

Since yet thou livest, that my neighbour here

Vitaliano on my left shall sit.

A Paduan with these Florentines am I.

Ofttimes they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming

'O haste that noble knight! he who the pouch

With the three beaks will bring!'"  This said, he writh'd

The mouth, and loll'd the tongue out, like an ox

That licks his nostrils.  I, lest longer stay

He ill might brook, who bade me stay not long,

Backward my steps from those sad spirits turn'd.

My guide already seated on the haunch

Of the fierce animal I found; and thus

He me encourag'd.  "Be thou stout; be bold.

Down such a steep flight must we now descend!

Mount thou before: for that no power the tail

May have to harm thee, I will be i' th' midst."

As one, who hath an ague fit so near,

His nails already are turn'd blue, and he

Quivers all o'er, if he but eye the shade;

Such was my cheer at hearing of his words.

But shame soon interpos'd her threat, who makes

The servant bold in presence of his lord.

I settled me upon those shoulders huge,

And would have said, but that the words to aid

My purpose came not, "Look thou clasp me firm!"

But he whose succour then not first I prov'd,

Soon as I mounted, in his arms aloft,

Embracing, held me up, and thus he spake:

"Geryon! now move thee! be thy wheeling gyres

Of ample circuit, easy thy descent.

Think on th' unusual burden thou sustain'st."

As a small vessel, back'ning out from land,

Her station quits; so thence the monster loos'd,

And when he felt himself at large, turn'd round

There where the breast had been, his forked tail.

Thus, like an eel, outstretch'd at length he steer'd,

Gath'ring the air up with retractile claws.

Not greater was the dread when Phaeton

The reins let drop at random, whence high heaven,

Whereof signs yet appear, was wrapt in flames;

Nor when ill-fated Icarus perceiv'd,

By liquefaction of the scalded wax,

The trusted pennons loosen'd from his loins,

His sire exclaiming loud, "Ill way thou keep'st!"

Than was my dread, when round me on each part

The air I view'd, and other object none

Save the fell beast.  He slowly sailing, wheels

His downward motion, unobserv'd of me,

But that the wind, arising to my face,

Breathes on me from below.  Now on our right

I heard the cataract beneath us leap

With hideous crash; whence bending down to' explore,

New terror I conceiv'd at the steep plunge:

For flames I saw, and wailings smote mine ear:

So that all trembling close I crouch'd my limbs,

And then distinguish'd, unperceiv'd before,

By the dread torments that on every side

Drew nearer, how our downward course we wound.

As falcon, that hath long been on the wing,

But lure nor bird hath seen, while in despair

The falconer cries, "Ah me! thou stoop'st to earth!"

Wearied descends, and swiftly down the sky

In many an orbit wheels, then lighting sits

At distance from his lord in angry mood;

So Geryon lighting places us on foot

Low down at base of the deep-furrow'd rock,

And, of his burden there discharg'd, forthwith

Sprang forward, like an arrow from the string.

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Table of Contents

THE VISION

OF

HELL, PURGATORY, AND PARADISE

DANTE ALIGHIERI

TRANSLATED BY

THE REV. H. F. CARY, M.A.

HELL OR THE INFERNO

Part 6.

LIST OF CANTOS

CANTO XIII

CANTO XIV

CANTO XV

CANTO XVI

CANTO XVII

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE