Part 2

When thus my master kind began: “Mark him, Who in his right hand bears that falchion keen, The other three preceding, as their lord. This is that Homer, of all bards supreme: Flaccus the next in satire’s vein excelling; The third is Naso; Lucan is the last. Because they all that appellation own, With which the voice singly accosted me, Honouring they greet me thus, and well they judge.”

So I beheld united the bright school Of him the monarch of sublimest song, That o’er the others like an eagle soars. When they together short discourse had held, They turn’d to me, with salutation kind Beck’ning me; at the which my master smil’d: Nor was this all; but greater honour still They gave me, for they made me of their tribe; And I was sixth amid so learn’d a band.

Far as the luminous beacon on we pass’d Speaking of matters, then befitting well To speak, now fitter left untold. At foot Of a magnificent castle we arriv’d, Seven times with lofty walls begirt, and round Defended by a pleasant stream. O’er this As o’er dry land we pass’d. Next through seven gates I with those sages enter’d, and we came Into a mead with lively verdure fresh.

There dwelt a race, who slow their eyes around Majestically mov’d, and in their port Bore eminent authority; they spake Seldom, but all their words were tuneful sweet.

We to one side retir’d, into a place Open and bright and lofty, whence each one Stood manifest to view. Incontinent There on the green enamel of the plain Were shown me the great spirits, by whose sight I am exalted in my own esteem.

Electra there I saw accompanied By many, among whom Hector I knew, Anchises’ pious son, and with hawk’s eye Caesar all arm’d, and by Camilla there Penthesilea. On the other side Old King Latinus, seated by his child Lavinia, and that Brutus I beheld, Who Tarquin chas’d, Lucretia, Cato’s wife Marcia, with Julia and Cornelia there; And sole apart retir’d, the Soldan fierce.

Then when a little more I rais’d my brow, I spied the master of the sapient throng, Seated amid the philosophic train. Him all admire, all pay him rev’rence due. There Socrates and Plato both I mark’d, Nearest to him in rank; Democritus, Who sets the world at chance, Diogenes, With Heraclitus, and Empedocles, And Anaxagoras, and Thales sage, Zeno, and Dioscorides well read In nature’s secret lore. Orpheus I mark’d And Linus, Tully and moral Seneca, Euclid and Ptolemy, Hippocrates, Galenus, Avicen, and him who made That commentary vast, Averroes.

Of all to speak at full were vain attempt; For my wide theme so urges, that ofttimes My words fall short of what bechanc’d. In two The six associates part. Another way My sage guide leads me, from that air serene, Into a climate ever vex’d with storms: And to a part I come where no light shines.

## CANTO V

From the first circle I descended thus Down to the second, which, a lesser space Embracing, so much more of grief contains Provoking bitter moans. There, Minos stands Grinning with ghastly feature: he, of all Who enter, strict examining the crimes,

Gives sentence, and dismisses them beneath, According as he foldeth him around: For when before him comes th’ ill fated soul, It all confesses; and that judge severe Of sins, considering what place in hell Suits the transgression, with his tail so oft Himself encircles, as degrees beneath He dooms it to descend. Before him stand Always a num’rous throng; and in his turn Each one to judgment passing, speaks, and hears His fate, thence downward to his dwelling hurl’d.

“O thou! who to this residence of woe Approachest?” when he saw me coming, cried Minos, relinquishing his dread employ, “Look how thou enter here; beware in whom Thou place thy trust; let not the entrance broad Deceive thee to thy harm.” To him my guide: “Wherefore exclaimest? Hinder not his way By destiny appointed; so ’tis will’d Where will and power are one. Ask thou no more.”

Now ’gin the rueful wailings to be heard. Now am I come where many a plaining voice Smites on mine ear. Into a place I came Where light was silent all. Bellowing there groan’d A noise as of a sea in tempest torn By warring winds. The stormy blast of hell With restless fury drives the spirits on Whirl’d round and dash’d amain with sore annoy.

When they arrive before the ruinous sweep, There shrieks are heard, there lamentations, moans, And blasphemies ’gainst the good Power in heaven.

I understood that to this torment sad The carnal sinners are condemn’d, in whom Reason by lust is sway’d. As in large troops And multitudinous, when winter reigns, The starlings on their wings are borne abroad; So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls. On this side and on that, above, below, It drives them: hope of rest to solace them Is none, nor e’en of milder pang. As cranes, Chanting their dol’rous notes, traverse the sky, Stretch’d out in long array: so I beheld Spirits, who came loud wailing, hurried on By their dire doom. Then I: “Instructor! who Are these, by the black air so scourg’d?”—“The first ’Mong those, of whom thou question’st,” he replied, “O’er many tongues was empress. She in vice Of luxury was so shameless, that she made Liking be lawful by promulg’d decree, To clear the blame she had herself incurr’d. This is Semiramis, of whom ’tis writ, That she succeeded Ninus her espous’d; And held the land, which now the Soldan rules. The next in amorous fury slew herself, And to Sicheus’ ashes broke her faith: Then follows Cleopatra, lustful queen.”

There mark’d I Helen, for whose sake so long The time was fraught with evil; there the great Achilles, who with love fought to the end. Paris I saw, and Tristan; and beside A thousand more he show’d me, and by name Pointed them out, whom love bereav’d of life.

When I had heard my sage instructor name Those dames and knights of antique days, o’erpower’d By pity, well-nigh in amaze my mind Was lost; and I began: “Bard! willingly I would address those two together coming, Which seem so light before the wind.” He thus: “Note thou, when nearer they to us approach.

“Then by that love which carries them along, Entreat; and they will come.” Soon as the wind Sway’d them toward us, I thus fram’d my speech: “O wearied spirits! come, and hold discourse With us, if by none else restrain’d.” As doves By fond desire invited, on wide wings And firm, to their sweet nest returning home, Cleave the air, wafted by their will along; Thus issu’d from that troop, where Dido ranks, They through the ill air speeding; with such force My cry prevail’d by strong affection urg’d.

“O gracious creature and benign! who go’st Visiting, through this element obscure, Us, who the world with bloody stain imbru’d; If for a friend the King of all we own’d, Our pray’r to him should for thy peace arise, Since thou hast pity on our evil plight. 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 belov’d, Caught me with pleasing him so passing well, That, as thou see’st, he yet deserts me not.

“Love brought us to one death: Caina waits The soul, who spilt our life.” Such were their words; At hearing which downward I bent my looks, And held them there so long, that the bard cried: “What art thou pond’ring?” I in answer thus: “Alas! by what sweet thoughts, what fond desire Must they at length to that ill pass have reach’d!”

Then turning, I to them my speech address’d. And thus began: “Francesca! your sad fate Even to tears my grief and pity moves. But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs, By what, and how love granted, that ye knew Your yet uncertain wishes?” She replied: “No greater grief than to remember days Of joy, when mis’ry is at hand! That kens Thy learn’d instructor. Yet so eagerly If thou art bent to know the primal root, From whence our love gat being, I will do, As one, who weeps and tells his tale. One day For our delight we read of Lancelot, How him love thrall’d. Alone we were, and no Suspicion near us. Ofttimes by that reading Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue Fled from our alter’d cheek. But at one point Alone we fell. When of that smile we read, The wished smile, rapturously kiss’d By one so deep in love, then he, who ne’er From me shall separate, at once my lips All trembling kiss’d. The book and writer both Were love’s purveyors. In its leaves that day We read no more.” While thus one spirit spake, The other wail’d so sorely, that heartstruck I through compassion fainting, seem’d not far From death, and like a corpse fell to the ground.

## CANTO VI

My sense reviving, that erewhile had droop’d With pity for the kindred shades, whence grief O’ercame me wholly, straight around I see New torments, new tormented souls, which way Soe’er I move, or turn, or bend my sight. In the third circle I arrive, of show’rs Ceaseless, accursed, heavy, and cold, unchang’d For ever, both in kind and in degree. Large hail, discolour’d water, sleety flaw Through the dun midnight air stream’d down amain: Stank all the land whereon that tempest fell.

Cerberus, cruel monster, fierce and strange, Through his wide threefold throat barks as a dog Over the multitude immers’d beneath. His eyes glare crimson, black his unctuous beard, His belly large, and claw’d the hands, with which He tears the spirits, flays them, and their limbs Piecemeal disparts. Howling there spread, as curs, Under the rainy deluge, with one side The other screening, oft they roll them round, A wretched, godless crew. When that great worm Descried us, savage Cerberus, he op’d His jaws, and the fangs show’d us; not a limb Of him but trembled. Then my guide, his palms Expanding on the ground, thence filled with earth Rais’d them, and cast it in his ravenous maw.

E’en as a dog, that yelling bays for food His keeper, when the morsel comes, lets fall His fury, bent alone with eager haste To swallow it; so dropp’d the loathsome cheeks Of demon Cerberus, who thund’ring stuns The spirits, that they for deafness wish in vain.

We, o’er the shades thrown prostrate by the brunt Of the heavy tempest passing, set our feet Upon their emptiness, that substance seem’d.

They all along the earth extended lay Save one, that sudden rais’d himself to sit, Soon as that way he saw us pass. “O thou!” He cried, “who through the infernal shades art led, Own, if again thou know’st me. Thou wast fram’d Or ere my frame was broken.” I replied: “The anguish thou endur’st perchance so takes Thy form from my remembrance, that it seems As if I saw thee never. But inform Me who thou art, that in a place so sad Art set, and in such torment, that although Other be greater, more disgustful none Can be imagin’d.” He in answer thus:

“Thy city heap’d with envy to the brim, Ay that the measure overflows its bounds, Held me in brighter days. Ye citizens Were wont to name me Ciacco. For the sin Of glutt’ny, damned vice, beneath this rain, E’en as thou see’st, I with fatigue am worn; Nor I sole spirit in this woe: all these Have by like crime incurr’d like punishment.”

No more he said, and I my speech resum’d: “Ciacco! thy dire affliction grieves me much, Even to tears. But tell me, if thou know’st, What shall at length befall the citizens Of the divided city; whether any just one Inhabit there: and tell me of the cause, Whence jarring discord hath assail’d it thus?”

He then: “After long striving they will come To blood; and the wild party from the woods Will chase the other with much injury forth. Then it behoves, that this must fall, within Three solar circles; and the other rise By borrow’d force of one, who under shore Now rests. It shall a long space hold aloof Its forehead, keeping under heavy weight The other oppress’d, indignant at the load, And grieving sore. The just are two in number, But they neglected. Av’rice, envy, pride, Three fatal sparks, have set the hearts of all On fire.” Here ceas’d the lamentable sound; And I continu’d thus: “Still would I learn More from thee, farther parley still entreat. Of Farinata and Tegghiaio say, They who so well deserv’d, of Giacopo, Arrigo, Mosca, and the rest, who bent Their minds on working good. Oh! tell me where They bide, and to their knowledge let me come. For I am press’d with keen desire to hear, If heaven’s sweet cup or poisonous drug of hell Be to their lip assign’d.” He answer’d straight: “These are yet blacker spirits. Various crimes Have sunk them deeper in the dark abyss. If thou so far descendest, thou mayst see them. But to the pleasant world when thou return’st, Of me make mention, I entreat thee, there. No more I tell thee, answer thee no more.”

This said, his fixed eyes he turn’d askance, A little ey’d me, then bent down his head, And ’midst his blind companions with it fell.

When thus my guide: “No more his bed he leaves, Ere the last angel-trumpet blow. The Power Adverse to these shall then in glory come, Each one forthwith to his sad tomb repair, Resume his fleshly vesture and his form, And hear the eternal doom re-echoing rend The vault.” So pass’d we through that mixture foul Of spirits and rain, with tardy steps; meanwhile Touching, though slightly, on the life to come. For thus I question’d: “Shall these tortures, Sir! When the great sentence passes, be increas’d, Or mitigated, or as now severe?”

He then: “Consult thy knowledge; that decides That as each thing to more perfection grows, It feels more sensibly both good and pain. Though ne’er to true perfection may arrive This race accurs’d, yet nearer then than now They shall approach it.” Compassing that path Circuitous we journeyed, and discourse Much more than I relate between us pass’d: Till at the point, where the steps led below, Arriv’d, there Plutus, the great foe, we found.

## CANTO VII

“Ah me! O Satan! Satan!” loud exclaim’d Plutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm: And the kind sage, whom no event surpris’d, To comfort me thus spake: “Let not thy fear Harm thee, for power in him, be sure, is none To hinder down this rock thy safe descent.” Then to that sworn lip turning, “Peace!” he cried,

“Curs’d wolf! thy fury inward on thyself Prey, and consume thee! Through the dark profound Not without cause he passes. So ’t is will’d On high, there where the great Archangel pour’d Heav’n’s vengeance on the first adulterer proud.”

As sails full spread and bellying with the wind Drop suddenly collaps’d, if the mast split; So to the ground down dropp’d the cruel fiend.

Thus we, descending to the fourth steep ledge, Gain’d on the dismal shore, that all the woe Hems in of all the universe. Ah me! Almighty Justice! in what store thou heap’st New pains, new troubles, as I here beheld! Wherefore doth fault of ours bring us to this?

E’en as a billow, on Charybdis rising, Against encounter’d billow dashing breaks; Such is the dance this wretched race must lead, Whom more than elsewhere numerous here I found, From one side and the other, with loud voice, Both roll’d on weights by main forge of their breasts, Then smote together, and each one forthwith Roll’d them back voluble, turning again, Exclaiming these, “Why holdest thou so fast?” Those answering, “And why castest thou away?” So still repeating their despiteful song, They to the opposite point on either hand Travers’d the horrid circle: then arriv’d, Both turn’d them round, and through the middle space Conflicting met again. At sight whereof I, stung with grief, thus spake: “O say, my guide! What race is this? Were these, whose heads are shorn, On our left hand, all sep’rate to the church?”

He straight replied: “In their first life these all In mind were so distorted, that they made, According to due measure, of their wealth, No use. This clearly from their words collect, Which they howl forth, at each extremity Arriving of the circle, where their crime Contrary in kind disparts them. To the church Were separate those, that with no hairy cowls Are crown’d, both Popes and Cardinals, o’er whom Av’rice dominion absolute maintains.”

I then: “Mid such as these some needs must be, Whom I shall recognize, that with the blot Of these foul sins were stain’d.” He answering thus: “Vain thought conceiv’st thou. That ignoble life, Which made them vile before, now makes them dark, And to all knowledge indiscernible. Forever they shall meet in this rude shock: These from the tomb with clenched grasp shall rise, Those with close-shaven locks. That ill they gave, And ill they kept, hath of the beauteous world Depriv’d, and set them at this strife, which needs No labour’d phrase of mine to set it off. Now may’st thou see, my son! how brief, how vain, The goods committed into fortune’s hands, For which the human race keep such a coil! Not all the gold, that is beneath the moon, Or ever hath been, of these toil-worn souls Might purchase rest for one.” I thus rejoin’d:

“My guide! of thee this also would I learn; This fortune, that thou speak’st of, what it is, Whose talons grasp the blessings of the world?”

He thus: “O beings blind! what ignorance Besets you? Now my judgment hear and mark. He, whose transcendent wisdom passes all, The heavens creating, gave them ruling powers To guide them, so that each part shines to each, Their light in equal distribution pour’d. By similar appointment he ordain’d Over the world’s bright images to rule Superintendence of a guiding hand And general minister, which at due time May change the empty vantages of life From race to race, from one to other’s blood, Beyond prevention of man’s wisest care: Wherefore one nation rises into sway, Another languishes, e’en as her will Decrees, from us conceal’d, as in the grass The serpent train. Against her nought avails Your utmost wisdom. She with foresight plans, Judges, and carries on her reign, as theirs The other powers divine. Her changes know None intermission: by necessity She is made swift, so frequent come who claim Succession in her favours. This is she, So execrated e’en by those, whose debt To her is rather praise; they wrongfully With blame requite her, and with evil word; But she is blessed, and for that recks not: Amidst the other primal beings glad Rolls on her sphere, and in her bliss exults. Now on our way pass we, to heavier woe Descending: for each star is falling now, That mounted at our entrance, and forbids Too long our tarrying.” We the circle cross’d To the next steep, arriving at a well, That boiling pours itself down to a foss Sluic’d from its source. Far murkier was the wave Than sablest grain: and we in company Of the inky waters, journeying by their side, Enter’d, though by a different track, beneath. Into a lake, the Stygian nam’d, expands The dismal stream, when it hath reach’d the foot Of the grey wither’d cliffs. Intent I stood To gaze, and in the marish sunk descried A miry tribe, all naked, and with looks Betok’ning rage. They with their hands alone Struck not, but with the head, the breast, the feet, Cutting each other piecemeal with their fangs.

The good instructor spake; “Now seest thou, son! The souls of those, whom anger overcame. This too for certain know, that underneath The water dwells a multitude, whose sighs Into these bubbles make the surface heave, As thine eye tells thee wheresoe’er it turn. Fix’d in the slime they say: ‘Sad once were we In the sweet air made gladsome by the sun, Carrying a foul and lazy mist within: Now in these murky settlings are we sad.’ Such dolorous strain they gurgle in their throats. But word distinct can utter none.” Our route Thus compass’d we, a segment widely stretch’d Between the dry embankment, and the core Of the loath’d pool, turning meanwhile our eyes Downward on those who gulp’d its muddy lees; Nor stopp’d, till to a tower’s low base we came.

## CANTO VIII

My theme pursuing, I relate that ere We reach’d the lofty turret’s base, our eyes Its height ascended, where two cressets hung We mark’d, and from afar another light Return the signal, so remote, that scarce The eye could catch its beam. I turning round To the deep source of knowledge, thus inquir’d: “Say what this means? and what that other light In answer set? what agency doth this?”

“There on the filthy waters,” he replied, “E’en now what next awaits us mayst thou see, If the marsh-gender’d fog conceal it not.”

Never was arrow from the cord dismiss’d, That ran its way so nimbly through the air, As a small bark, that through the waves I spied Toward us coming, under the sole sway Of one that ferried it, who cried aloud: “Art thou arriv’d, fell spirit?”—“Phlegyas, Phlegyas, This time thou criest in vain,” my lord replied; “No longer shalt thou have us, but while o’er The slimy pool we pass.” As one who hears Of some great wrong he hath sustain’d, whereat Inly he pines; so Phlegyas inly pin’d In his fierce ire. My guide descending stepp’d Into the skiff, and bade me enter next Close at his side; nor till my entrance seem’d The vessel freighted. Soon as both embark’d, Cutting the waves, goes on the ancient prow, More deeply than with others it is wont.

While we our course o’er the dead channel held. One drench’d in mire before me came, and said; “Who art thou, that thou comest ere thine hour?”

I answer’d: “Though I come, I tarry not; But who art thou, that art become so foul?”

“One, as thou seest, who mourn:” he straight replied.

To which I thus: “In mourning and in woe, Curs’d spirit! tarry thou. I know thee well, E’en thus in filth disguis’d.” Then stretch’d he forth Hands to the bark; whereof my teacher sage Aware, thrusting him back: “Away! down there,

“To the other dogs!” then, with his arms my neck Encircling, kiss’d my cheek, and spake: “O soul Justly disdainful! blest was she in whom Thou was conceiv’d! He in the world was one For arrogance noted; to his memory No virtue lends its lustre; even so Here is his shadow furious. There above How many now hold themselves mighty kings Who here like swine shall wallow in the mire, Leaving behind them horrible dispraise!”

I then: “Master! him fain would I behold Whelm’d in these dregs, before we quit the lake.”