THE VISION

OF

HELL, PURGATORY, AND PARADISE

BY

DANTE ALIGHIERI

TRANSLATED BY

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

HELL

OR THE INFERNO

Part 7

Cantos 18 - 22

CANTO XVIII

THERE is a place within the depths of hellCall'd Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain'dWith hue ferruginous, e'en as the steepThat round it circling winds. Right in the midstOf that abominable region, yawnsA spacious gulf profound, whereof the frameDue time shall tell. The circle, that remains, Throughout its round, between the gulf and baseOf the high craggy banks, successive formsTen trenches, in its hollow bottom sunk. 

As where to guard the walls, full many a fossBegirds some stately castle, sure defenceAffording to the space within, so hereWere model'd these; and as like fortressesE'en from their threshold to the brink without, Are flank'd with bridges; from the rock's low baseThus flinty paths advanc'd, that 'cross the molesAnd dikes, struck onward far as to the gulf, That in one bound collected cuts them off. Such was the place, wherein we found ourselvesFrom Geryon's back dislodg'd. The bard to leftHeld on his way, and I behind him mov'd. 

On our right hand new misery I saw, New pains, new executioners of wrath, That swarming peopled the first chasm. BelowWere 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 returnsOf Jubilee, with better speed to ridThe thronging multitudes, their means deviseFor such as pass the bridge; that on one sideAll front toward the castle, and approachSaint Peter's fane, on th' other towards the mount. 

Each divers 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 sightWhom soon as view'd; "Of him, " cried I, "not yetMine eye hath had his fill. " With fixed gazeI therefore scann'd him. Straight the teacher kindPaus'd with me, and consented I should walkBackward a space, and the tormented spirit, Who thought to hide him, bent his visage down. But it avail'd him nought; for I exclaim'd:"Thou who dost cast thy eye upon the ground, Unless thy features do belie thee much, Venedico art thou. But what brings theeInto this bitter seas'ning?" He replied:"Unwillingly I answer to thy words. But thy clear speech, that to my mind recallsThe world I once inhabited, constrains me. Know then 'twas I who led fair GhisolaTo do the Marquis' will, however fameThe shameful tale have bruited. Nor aloneBologna hither sendeth me to mournRather with us the place is so o'erthrong'dThat 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 thongStruck, and exclaim'd, "Away! corrupter! hereWomen are none for sale. " Forthwith I join'dMy escort, and few paces thence we cameTo where a rock forth issued from the bank. That easily ascended, to the rightUpon its splinter turning, we departFrom those eternal barriers. When arriv'd, Where underneath the gaping arch lets passThe scourged souls: "Pause here, " the teacher said, "And let these others miserable, nowStrike on thy ken, faces not yet beheld, For that together they with us have walk'd. "

From the old bridge we ey'd the pack, who cameFrom th' other side towards us, like the rest, Excoriate from the lash. My gentle guide, By me unquestion'd, thus his speech resum'd:"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 wonThe ram from Colchos. To the Lemnian isleHis passage thither led him, when those boldAnd pitiless women had slain all their males. There he with tokens and fair witching wordsHypsipyle beguil'd, a virgin young, Who first had all the rest herself beguil'd. Impregnated he left her there forlorn. Such is the guilt condemns him to this pain. Here too Medea's inj'ries are avenged. All bear him company, who like deceitTo his have practis'd. And thus much to knowOf the first vale suffice thee, and of thoseWhom its keen torments urge. " Now had we comeWhere, crossing the next pier, the straighten'd pathBestrides its shoulders to another arch. 

Hence in the second chasm we heard the ghosts, Who jibber in low melancholy sounds, With wide-stretch'd nostrils snort, and on themselvesSmite with their palms. Upon the banks a scurfFrom the foul steam condens'd, 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 immers'd in ordure, that appear'dDraff of the human body. There beneathSearching with eye inquisitive, I mark'dOne with his head so grim'd, 't were 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 mem'ry, " 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 stretchThy face, that thou the visage well mayst noteOf that besotted, sluttish courtezan, Who there doth rend her with defiled nails, Now crouching down, now risen on her feet. 

"Thais is this, the harlot, whose false lipAnswer'd her doting paramour that ask'd, 'Thankest me much!'--'Say rather wondrously, 'And seeing this here satiate be our view. "

CANTO XIX

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 prostituteFor gold and silver in adultery!Now must the trumpet sound for you, since yoursIs the third chasm. Upon the following vaultWe now had mounted, where the rock impendsDirectly 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 meedAllotting by thy virtue unto all!

I saw the livid stone, throughout the sidesAnd in its bottom full of apertures, All equal in their width, and circular each, Nor ample less nor larger they appear'dThan in Saint John's fair dome of me belov'dThose fram'd to hold the pure baptismal streams, One of the which I brake, some few years past, To save a whelming infant; and be thisA seal to undeceive whoever doubtsThe motive of my deed. From out the mouthOf every one, emerg'd a sinner's feetAnd of the legs high upward as the calfThe rest beneath was hid. On either footThe soles were burning, whence the flexile jointsGlanc'd with such violent motion, as had snaptAsunder cords or twisted withs. As flame, Feeding on unctuous matter, glides alongThe surface, scarcely touching where it moves;So here, from heel to point, glided the flames. 

"Master! say who is he, than all the restGlancing in fiercer agony, on whomA ruddier flame doth prey?" I thus inquir'd. 

"If thou be willing, " he replied, "that ICarry 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 quitThy 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 limbQuiv'ring express'd his pang. "Whoe'er thou art, Sad spirit! thus revers'd, and as a stakeDriv'n in the soil!" I in these words began, "If thou be able, utter forth thy voice. "

There stood I like the friar, that doth shriveA 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 takeThe lovely lady, and then mangle her?"

I felt as those who, piercing not the driftOf answer made them, stand as if expos'dIn mockery, nor know what to reply, When Virgil thus admonish'd: "Tell him quick, I am not he, not he, whom thou believ'st. "

And I, as was enjoin'd me, straight replied. 

That heard, the spirit all did wrench his feet, And sighing next in woeful accent spake:"What then of me requirest? If to knowSo much imports thee, who I am, that thouHast therefore down the bank descended, learnThat in the mighty mantle I was rob'd, And of a she-bear was indeed the son, So eager to advance my whelps, that thereMy having in my purse above I stow'd, And here myself. Under my head are dragg'dThe rest, my predecessors in the guiltOf simony. Stretch'd at their length they lieAlong an opening in the rock. 'Midst themI also low shall fall, soon as he comes, For whom I took thee, when so hastilyI question'd. But already longer timeHath pass'd, since my souls kindled, and I thusUpturn'd have stood, than is his doom to standPlanted 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 whomIn Maccabees we read; and favour suchAs 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 presum'd, But in this strain I answer'd: "Tell me now, What treasures from St. Peter at the firstOur Lord demanded, when he put the keysInto his charge? Surely he ask'd no moreBut, Follow me! Nor Peter nor the restOr gold or silver of Matthias took, When lots were cast upon the forfeit placeOf 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 inspir'd. If reverence of the keys restrain'd me not, Which thou in happier time didst hold, I yetSeverer speech might use. Your avariceO'ercasts the world with mourning, under footTreading the good, and raising bad men up. Of shepherds, like to you, th' EvangelistWas 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, Diff'ring wherein from the idolater, But he that 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 wrathOr conscience smote him, violent upsprangSpinning on either sole. I do believeMy teacher well was pleas'd, with so compos'dA lip, he listen'd ever to the soundOf the true words I utter'd. In both armsHe caught, and to his bosom lifting meUpward retrac'd 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 plac'dUpon the rugged rock and steep, a pathNot easy for the clamb'ring goat to mount. 

Thence to my view another vale appear'd

CANTO XX

AND now the verse proceeds to torments new, Fit argument of this the twentieth strainOf the first song, whose awful theme recordsThe spirits whelm'd in woe. Earnest I look'dInto the depth, that open'd to my view, Moisten'd with tears of anguish, and beheldA tribe, that came along the hollow vale, In silence weeping: such their step as walkQuires chanting solemn litanies on earth. 

As on them more direct mine eye descends, Each wondrously seem'd to be revers'dAt the neck-bone, so that the countenanceWas from the reins averted: and becauseNone might before him look, they were compell'dTo' advance with backward gait. Thus one perhapsHath been by force of palsy clean transpos'd, But I ne'er saw it nor believe it so. 

Now, reader! think within thyself, so GodFruit of thy reading give thee! how I longCould keep my visage dry, when I beheldNear me our form distorted in such guise, That on the hinder parts fall'n from the faceThe tears down-streaming roll'd. Against a rockI 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 gap'd in Thebes, when allCried out, 'Amphiaraus, whither rushest?'Why leavest thou the war?' He not the lessFell ruining far as to Minos down, Whose grapple none eludes. Lo! how he makesThe breast his shoulders, and who once too farBefore him wish'd to see, now backward looks, And treads reverse his path. Tiresias note, Who semblance chang'd, when woman he becameOf male, through every limb transform'd, and thenOnce more behov'd him with his rod to strikeThe two entwining serpents, ere the plumes, That mark'd the better sex, might shoot again. 

"Aruns, with more his belly facing, comes. On Luni's mountains 'midst the marbles white, Where delves Carrara's hind, who wons beneath, A cavern was his dwelling, whence the starsAnd main-sea wide in boundless view he held. 

"The next, whose loosen'd tresses overspreadHer bosom, which thou seest not (for each hairOn that side grows) was Manto, she who search'dThrough many regions, and at length her seatFix'd in my native land, whence a short spaceMy words detain thy audience. When her sireFrom life departed, and in servitudeThe city dedicate to Bacchus mourn'd, Long time she went a wand'rer through the world. Aloft in Italy's delightful landA lake there lies, at foot of that proud Alp, That o'er the Tyrol locks Germania in, Its name Benacus, which a thousand rills, Methinks, and more, water between the valeCamonica and Garda and the heightOf Apennine remote. There is a spotAt midway of that lake, where he who bearsOf Trento's flock the past'ral staff, with himOf Brescia, and the Veronese, might eachPassing that way his benediction give. A garrison of goodly site and strongPeschiera stands, to awe with front oppos'dThe Bergamese and Brescian, whence the shoreMore slope each way descends. There, whatsoev'erBenacus' bosom holds not, tumbling o'erDown falls, and winds a river flood beneathThrough the green pastures. Soon as in his courseThe steam makes head, Benacus then no moreThey call the name, but Mincius, till at lastReaching Governo into Po he falls. Not far his course hath run, when a wide flatIt finds, which overstretchmg as a marshIt covers, pestilent in summer oft. Hence journeying, the savage maiden saw'Midst of the fen a territory wasteAnd naked of inhabitants. To shunAll human converse, here she with her slavesPlying her arts remain'd, and liv'd, and leftHer body tenantless. Thenceforth the tribes, Who round were scatter'd, gath'ring to that placeAssembled; for its strength was great, enclos'dOn all parts by the fen. On those dead bonesThey 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 deceitWas wrong'd of Pinamonte. If thou hearHenceforth another origin assign'dOf that my country, I forewarn thee now, That falsehood none beguile thee of the truth. "

I answer'd: "Teacher, I conclude thy wordsSo certain, that all else shall be to meAs embers lacking life. But now of these, Who here proceed, instruct me, if thou seeAny that merit more especial note. For thereon is my mind alone intent. "

He straight replied: "That spirit, from whose cheekThe beard sweeps o'er his shoulders brown, what timeGraecia was emptied of her males, that scarceThe cradles were supplied, the seer was heIn Aulis, who with Calchas gave the signWhen first to cut the cable. Him they nam'dEurypilus: so sings my tragic strain, In which majestic measure well thou know'st, Who know'st it all. That other, round the loinsSo slender of his shape, was Michael Scot, Practis'd in ev'ry slight of magic wile. 

"Guido Bonatti see: Asdente mark, Who now were willing, he had tended stillThe thread and cordwain; and too late repents. 

"See next the wretches, who the needle left, The shuttle and the spindle, and becameDiviners: baneful witcheries they wroughtWith images and herbs. But onward now:For now doth Cain with fork of thorns confineOn either hemisphere, touching the waveBeneath the towers of Seville. YesternightThe moon was round. Thou mayst remember well:For she good service did thee in the gloomOf the deep wood. " This said, both onward mov'd. 

CANTO XXI

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, stoodTo view another gap, within the roundOf Malebolge, other bootless pangs. 

Marvelous darkness shadow'd o'er the place. 

In the Venetians' arsenal as boilsThrough wintry months tenacious pitch, to smearTheir unsound vessels; for th' inclement timeSea-faring men restrains, and in that whileHis bark one builds anew, another stopsThe 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 mizen one repairs and main-sail rentSo not by force of fire but art divineBoil'd here a glutinous thick mass, that roundLim'd all the shore beneath. I that beheld, But therein nought distinguish'd, save the surge, Rais'd by the boiling, in one mighty swellHeave, and by turns subsiding and fall. While thereI fix'd my ken below, "Mark! mark!" my guideExclaiming, drew me towards him from the place, Wherein I stood. I turn'd myself as one, Impatient to behold that which beheldHe 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 advanc'd along the rock. Ah! what fierce cruelty his look bespake!In act how bitter did he seem, with wingsBuoyant outstretch'd and feet of nimblest tread!His shoulder proudly eminent and sharpWas with a sinner charg'd; by either haunchHe 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! HimWhelm 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 'aye' is quickly made. "

Him dashing down, o'er the rough rock he turn'd, Nor ever after thief a mastiff loos'dSped with like eager haste. That other sankAnd forthwith writing to the surface rose. But those dark demons, shrouded by the bridge, Cried "Here the hallow'd visage saves not: hereIs 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 downWith flesh-hooks, that it float not on the top. 

Me then my guide bespake: "Lest they descry, That thou art here, behind a craggy rockBend low and screen thee; and whate'er of forceBe offer'd me, or insult, fear thou not:For I am well advis'd, who have been erstIn the like fray. " Beyond the bridge's headTherewith he pass'd, and reaching the sixth pier, Behov'd him then a forehead terror-proof. 

With storm and fury, as when dogs rush forthUpon the poor man's back, who suddenlyFrom whence he standeth makes his suit; so rush'dThose from beneath the arch, and against himTheir weapons all they pointed. He aloud:"Be none of you outrageous: ere your timeDare seize me, come forth from amongst you one, "Who having heard my words, decide he thenIf he shall tear these limbs. " They shouted loud, "Go, Malacoda!" Whereat one advanc'd, The others standing firm, and as he came, "What may this turn avail him?" he exclaim'd. 

"Believ'st thou, Malacoda! I had comeThus far from all your skirmishing secure, "My teacher answered, "without will divineAnd destiny propitious? Pass we thenFor so Heaven's pleasure is, that I should leadAnother through this savage wilderness. "

Forthwith so fell his pride, that he let dropThe instrument of torture at his feet, And to the rest exclaim'd: "We have no powerTo strike him. " Then to me my guide: "O thou!Who on the bridge among the crags dost sitLow crouching, safely now to me return. "

I rose, and towards him moved with speed: the fiendsMeantime all forward drew: me terror seiz'dLest they should break the compact they had made. Thus issuing from Caprona, once I sawTh' infantry dreading, lest his covenantThe foe should break; so close he hemm'd them round. 

I to my leader's side adher'd, mine eyesWith fixt and motionless observance bentOn their unkindly visage. They their hooksProtruding, one the other thus bespake:"Wilt thou I touch him on the hip?" To whomWas answer'd: "Even so; nor miss thy aim. "

But he, who was in conf'rence with my guide, Turn'd rapid round, and thus the demon spake:"Stay, stay thee, Scarmiglione!" Then to usHe added: "Further footing to your stepThis rock affords not, shiver'd to the baseOf the sixth arch. But would you 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'dThe circuit of their course, since here the wayWas broken. Thitherward I straight dispatchCertain of these my scouts, who shall espyIf any on the surface bask. With themGo 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 Ciriatto, Grafflacane fierce, And Farfarello, and mad Rubicant. Search ye around the bubbling tar. For these, In safety lead them, where the other cragUninterrupted 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 markHow they do gnarl upon us, and their scowlThreatens us present tortures?" He replied:"I charge thee fear not: let them, as they will, Gnarl on: 't is but in token of their spiteAgainst the souls, who mourn in torment steep'd. "

To leftward o'er the pier they turn'd; but eachHad first between his teeth prest close the tongue, Toward their leader for a signal looking, Which he with sound obscene triumphant gave. 

CANTO XXII

IT hath been heretofore my chance to seeHorsemen with martial order shifting camp, To onset sallying, or in muster rang'd, Or in retreat sometimes outstretch'd for flight;Light-armed squadrons and fleet foragersScouring 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 introduc'd from foreign land; but ne'erTo 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 churchWith saints, with gluttons at the tavern's mess. 

Still earnest on the pitch I gaz'd, to markAll things whate'er the chasm contain'd, and thoseWho burn'd within. As dolphins, that, in signTo mariners, heave high their arched backs, That thence forewarn'd they may advise to saveTheir threaten'd vessels; 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 wat'ry moatStand at the brink, with the jaws only out, Their feet and of the trunk all else concealed, Thus on each part the sinners stood, but soonAs Barbariccia was at hand, so theyDrew back under the wave. I saw, and yetMy 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 seiz'dHis clotted locks, and dragg'd him sprawling up, That he appear'd to me an otter. EachAlready by their names I knew, so wellWhen they were chosen, I observ'd, and mark'dHow 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 handHis foes have laid. " My leader to his sideApproach'd, and whence he came inquir'd, to whomWas answer'd thus: "Born in Navarre's domainMy mother plac'd 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 serv'd, To peculating here my thoughts were turn'd, Whereof I give account in this dire heat. "

Straight Ciriatto, from whose mouth a tuskIssued on either side, as from a boar, Ript him with one of these. 'Twixt evil clawsThe mouse had fall'n: but Barbariccia cried, Seizing him with both arms: "Stand thou apart, While I do fix him on my prong transpierc'd. "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 Latian landUnder 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, seiz'd on his arm, And mangled bore away the sinewy part. Him Draghinazzo by his thighs beneathWould next have caught, whence angrily their chief, Turning on all sides round, with threat'ning browRestrain'd them. When their strife a little ceas'd, Of him, who yet was gazing on his wound, My teacher thus without delay inquir'd:"Who was the spirit, from whom by evil hapParting, as thou has told, thou cam'st 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 us'd them so that they commend him well. Money he took, and them at large dismiss'd. So he reports: and in each other chargeCommitted to his keeping, play'd the partOf barterer to the height: with him doth herdThe chief of Logodoro, Michel Zanche. Sardinia is a theme, whereof their tongueIs never weary. Out! alas! beholdThat 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, Rebuk'd him thus: "Off! cursed bird! Avaunt!"--

"If ye desire to see or hear, " he thusQuaking with dread resum'd, "or Tuscan spiritsOr 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 sev'n appear, When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for soOur 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 storeOf 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 footWill chase thee, but above the pitch will beatMy plumes. Quit we the vantage ground, and letThe bank be as a shield, that we may seeIf 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 leapEscaping disappointed their resolve. 

Them quick resentment stung, but him the most, Who was the cause of failure; in pursuitHe therefore sped, exclaiming; "Thou art caught. "

But little it avail'd: terror outstripp'dHis following flight: the other plung'd beneath, And he with upward pinion rais'd his breast:E'en thus the water-fowl, when she perceivesThe falcon near, dives instant down, while heEnrag'd and spent retires. That mockeryIn Calcabrina fury stirr'd, who flewAfter him, with desire of strife inflam'd;And, for the barterer had 'scap'd, so turn'dHis talons on his comrade. O'er the dykeIn grapple close they join'd; but the' other prov'dA goshawk able to rend well his foe;

And in the boiling lake both fell. The heatWas umpire soon between them, but in vainTo lift themselves they strove, so fast were gluedTheir pennons. Barbariccia, as the rest, That chance lamenting, four in flight dispatch'dFrom the' other coast, with all their weapons arm'd. They, to their post on each side speedilyDescending, stretch'd their hooks toward the fiends, Who flounder'd, inly burning from their scars:And we departing left them to that broil. 

===8

THE VISION

OF

HELL, PURGATORY, AND PARADISE

OR THE INFERNO

BY

DANTE ALIGHIERI

TRANSLATED BY

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

HELL

Part 8

Cantos 23 - 28

CANTO XXIII

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 museUpon old Aesop's fable, where he toldWhat fate unto the mouse and frog befell. For language hath not sounds more like in sense, Than are these chances, if the originAnd end of each be heedfully compar'd. 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 beenSo foil'd, with loss and mock'ry so complete, As needs must sting them sore. If anger thenBe to their evil will conjoin'd, more fellThey shall pursue us, than the savage houndSnatches the leveret, panting 'twixt his jaws. "

Already I perceiv'd my hair stand allOn end with terror, and look'd eager back. 

"Teacher, " I thus began, "if speedilyThyself and me thou hide not, much I dreadThose evil talons. Even now behindThey urge us: quick imagination worksSo forcibly, that I already feel them. "

He answer'd: "Were I form'd of leaded glass, I should not sooner draw unto myselfThy outward image, than I now imprintThat from within. This moment came thy thoughtsPresented before mine, with similar actAnd count'nance similar, so that from bothI one design have fram'd. If the right coastIncline so much, that we may thence descendInto the other chasm, we shall escapeSecure from this imagined pursuit. "

He had not spoke his purpose to the end, When I from far beheld them with spread wingsApproach to take us. Suddenly my guideCaught me, ev'n as a mother that from sleepIs by the noise arous'd, and near her seesThe climbing fires, who snatches up her babeAnd flies ne'er pausing, careful more of himThan of herself, that but a single vestClings round her limbs. Down from the jutting beachSupine he cast him, to that pendent rock, Which closes on one part the other chasm. 

Never ran water with such hurrying paceAdown the tube to turn a landmill'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 feetReach'd to the lowest of the bed beneath, When over us the steep they reach'd; but fearIn him was none; for that high Providence, Which plac'd them ministers of the fifth foss, Power of departing thence took from them all. 

There in the depth we saw a painted tribe, Who pac'd with tardy steps around, and wept, Faint in appearance and o'ercome with toil. Caps had they on, with hoods, that fell low downBefore their eyes, in fashion like to thoseWorn by the monks in Cologne. Their outsideWas overlaid with gold, dazzling to view, But leaden all within, and of such weight, That Frederick's compar'd to these were straw. Oh, everlasting wearisome attire!

We yet once more with them together turn'dTo leftward, on their dismal moan intent. But by the weight oppress'd, so slowly cameThe fainting people, that our companyWas chang'd at every movement of the step. 

Whence I my guide address'd: "See that thou findSome 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 lookImpatient eagerness of mind was mark'dTo overtake me; but the load they bareAnd narrow path retarded their approach. 

Soon as arriv'd, they with an eye askancePerus'd me, but spake not: then turning eachTo other thus conferring said: "This oneSeems, by the action of his throat, alive. And, be they dead, what privilege allowsThey walk unmantled by the cumbrous stole?"

Then thus to me: "Tuscan, who visitestThe 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 balancesTo crack beneath them. Joyous friars we were, Bologna's natives, Catalano I, He Loderingo nam'd, and by thy landTogether taken, as men used to takeA 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 my eye, Fix'd to a cross with three stakes on the ground:He, when he saw me, writh'd himself, throughoutDistorted, ruffling with deep sighs his beard. And Catalano, who thereof was 'ware, Thus spake: "That pierced spirit, whom intentThou view'st, was he who gave the PhariseesCounsel, that it were fitting for one manTo suffer for the people. He doth lieTransverse; nor any passes, but him firstBehoves make feeling trial how each weighs. In straits like this along the foss are plac'dThe father of his consort, and the restPartakers in that council, seed of illAnd sorrow to the Jews. " I noted then, How Virgil gaz'd with wonder upon him, Thus abjectly extended on the crossIn banishment eternal. To the friarHe next his words address'd: "We pray ye tell, If so be lawful, whether on our rightLies any opening in the rock, wherebyWe both may issue hence, without constraintOn the dark angels, that compell'd they comeTo lead us from this depth. " He thus replied:"Nearer than thou dost hope, there is a rockFrom the next circle moving, which o'erstepsEach vale of horror, save that here his copeIs shatter'd. By the ruin ye may mount:For on the side it slants, and most the heightRises below. " With head bent down awhileMy 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 vices 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 year's early nonage, when the sunTempers his tresses in Aquarius' urn, And now towards equal day the nights recede, When as the rime upon the earth puts onHer dazzling sister's image, but not longHer milder sway endures, then riseth upThe village hind, whom fails his wintry store, And looking out beholds the plain aroundAll whiten'd, whence impatiently he smitesHis 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 hopeSpring in his bosom, finding e'en thus soonThe world hath chang'd its count'nance, grasps his crook, And forth to pasture drives his little flock:So me my guide dishearten'd when I sawHis troubled forehead, and so speedilyThat ill was cur'd; for at the fallen bridgeArriving, towards me with a look as sweet, He turn'd him back, as that I first beheldAt the steep mountain's foot. Regarding wellThe ruin, and some counsel first maintain'dWith his own thought, he open'd wide his armAnd took me up. As one, who, while he works, Computes his labour's issue, that he seemsStill to foresee the' effect, so lifting meUp to the summit of one peak, he fix'dHis eye upon another. "Grapple that, "Said he, "but first make proof, if it be suchAs will sustain thee. " For one capp'd with leadThis 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 coastWere not less ample than the last, for himI know not, but my strength had surely fail'd. But Malebolge all toward the mouthInclining of the nethermost abyss, The site of every valley hence requires, That one side upward slope, the other fall. 

At length the point of our descent we reach'dFrom the last flag: soon as to that arriv'd, 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 shadeOf canopy reposing, fame is won, Without which whosoe'er consumes his daysLeaveth such vestige of himself on earth, As smoke in air or foam upon the wave. Thou therefore rise: vanish thy wearinessBy the mind's effort, in each struggle form'dTo vanquish, if she suffer not the weightOf her corporeal frame to crush her down. A longer ladder yet remains to scale. From these to have escap'd sufficeth not. If well thou note me, profit by my words. "

I straightway rose, and show'd myself less spentThan I in truth did feel me. "On, " I cried, "For I am stout and fearless. " Up the rockOur way we held, more rugged than before, Narrower and steeper far to climb. From talkI ceas'd not, as we journey'd, so to seemLeast faint; whereat a voice from the other fossDid issue forth, for utt'rance suited ill. Though on the arch that crosses there I stood, What were the words I knew not, but who spakeSeem'd mov'd in anger. Down I stoop'd to look, But my quick eye might reach not to the depthFor shrouding darkness; wherefore thus I spake:"To the next circle, Teacher, bend thy steps, And from the wall dismount we; for as henceI hear and understand not, so I seeBeneath, and naught discern. "--"I answer not, "Said he, "but by the deed. To fair requestSilent performance maketh best return. "

We from the bridge's head descended, whereTo the eighth mound it joins, and then the chasmOpening to view, I saw a crowd withinOf serpents terrible, so strange of shapeAnd hideous, that remembrance in my veinsYet shrinks the vital current. Of her sandsLet Lybia vaunt no more: if Jaculus, Pareas and Chelyder be her brood, Cenchris and Amphisboena, plagues so direOr in such numbers swarming ne'er she shew'd, Not with all Ethiopia, and whate'erAbove the Erythraean sea is spawn'd. 

Amid this dread exuberance of woeRan 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 headTwisted in folds before. And lo! on oneNear to our side, darted an adder up, And, where the neck is on the shoulders tied, Transpierc'd him. Far more quickly than e'er penWrote O or I, he kindled, burn'd, and chang'dTo ashes, all pour'd out upon the earth. When there dissolv'd he lay, the dust againUproll'd spontaneous, and the self-same formInstant resumed. So mighty sages tell, The' Arabian Phoenix, when five hundred yearsHave well nigh circled, dies, and springs forthwithRenascent. Blade nor herb throughout his lifeHe tastes, but tears of frankincense aloneAnd odorous amomum: swaths of nardAnd myrrh his funeral shroud. As one that falls, He knows not how, by force demoniac dragg'dTo earth, or through obstruction fettering upIn chains invisible the powers of man, Who, risen from his trance, gazeth around, Bewilder'd with the monstrous agonyHe hath endur'd, and wildly staring sighs;So stood aghast the sinner when he rose. 

Oh! how severe God's judgment, that deals outSuch blows in stormy vengeance! Who he wasMy teacher next inquir'd, and thus in fewHe answer'd: "Vanni Fucci am I call'd, Not long since rained down from TuscanyTo this dire gullet. Me the beastial lifeAnd not the human pleas'd, 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 hither: onceA man I knew him choleric and bloody. "

The sinner heard and feign'd not, but towards meHis mind directing and his face, whereinWas dismal shame depictur'd, thus he spake:"It grieves me more to have been caught by theeIn this sad plight, which thou beholdest, thanWhen I was taken from the other life. I have no power permitted to denyWhat thou inquirest. I am doom'd thus lowTo dwell, for that the sacristy by meWas 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 realmOpen 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 vapour rises, wrapt in turbid mists, And sharp and eager driveth on the stormWith arrowy hurtling o'er Piceno's field, Whence suddenly the cloud shall burst, and strikeEach helpless Bianco prostrate to the ground. This have I told, that grief may rend thy heart. "

CANTO XXV

WHEN he had spoke, the sinner rais'd his handsPointed in mockery, and cried: "Take them, God!I level them at thee!" From that day forthThe serpents were my friends; for round his neckOne of then rolling twisted, as it said, "Be silent, tongue!" Another to his armsUpgliding, tied them, riveting itselfSo close, it took from them the power to move. 

Pistoia! Ah Pistoia! why dost doubtTo turn thee into ashes, cumb'ring earthNo longer, since in evil act so farThou 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 cameA centaur full of fury, shouting, "WhereWhere is the caitiff?" On Maremma's marshSwarm not the serpent tribe, as on his haunchThey swarm'd, to where the human face begins. Behind his head upon the shoulders lay, With open wings, a dragon breathing fireOn whomsoe'er he met. To me my guide:"Cacus is this, who underneath the rockOf Aventine spread oft a lake of blood. He, from his brethren parted, here must treadA different journey, for his fraudful theftOf the great herd, that near him stall'd; whence foundHis felon deeds their end, beneath the maceOf stout Alcides, that perchance laid onA hundred blows, and not the tenth was felt. "

While yet he spake, the centaur sped away:And under us three spirits came, of whomNor 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 oneHad need to name another. "Where, " said he, "Doth Cianfa lurk?" I, for a sign my guideShould stand attentive, plac'd against my lipsThe finger lifted. If, O reader! nowThou be not apt to credit what I tell, No marvel; for myself do scarce allowThe witness of mine eyes. But as I lookedToward them, lo! a serpent with six feetSprings forth on one, and fastens full upon him:His midmost grasp'd the belly, a forefootSeiz'd on each arm (while deep in either cheekHe flesh'd his fangs); the hinder on the thighsWere spread, 'twixt which the tail inserted curl'dUpon the reins behind. Ivy ne'er clasp'dA dodder'd oak, as round the other's limbsThe hideous monster intertwin'd 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 twoLook'd on exclaiming: "Ah, how dost thou change, Agnello! See! Thou art nor double now, "Nor only one. " The two heads now becameOne, and two figures blended in one formAppear'd, where both were lost. Of the four lengthsTwo arms were made: the belly and the chestThe thighs and legs into such members chang'd, As never eye hath seen. Of former shapeAll trace was vanish'd. Two yet neither seem'dThat image miscreate, and so pass'd onWith tardy steps. As underneath the scourgeOf the fierce dog-star, that lays bare the fields, Shifting from brake to brake, the lizard seemsA flash of lightning, if he thwart the road, So toward th' entrails of the other twoApproaching 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, One he transpierc'd; then down before him fellStretch'd out. The pierced spirit look'd on himBut spake not; yea stood motionless and yawn'd, As if by sleep or fev'rous fit assail'd. He ey'd the serpent, and the serpent him. One from the wound, the other from the mouthBreath'd a thick smoke, whose vap'ry columns join'd. 

Lucan in mute attention now may hear, Nor thy disastrous fate, Sabellus! tell, Nor shine, Nasidius! Ovid now be mute. What if in warbling fiction he recordCadmus and Arethusa, to a snakeHim chang'd, and her into a fountain clear, I envy not; for never face to faceTwo natures thus transmuted did he sing, Wherein both shapes were ready to assumeThe other's substance. They in mutual guiseSo answer'd, that the serpent split his trainDivided to a fork, and the pierc'd spiritDrew close his steps together, legs and thighsCompacted, that no sign of juncture soonWas visible: the tail disparted tookThe figure which the spirit lost, its skinSoft'ning, his indurated to a rind. The shoulders next I mark'd, that ent'ring join'dThe monster's arm-pits, whose two shorter feetSo lengthen'd, as the other's dwindling shrunk. The feet behind then twisting up becameThat part that man conceals, which in the wretchWas cleft in twain. While both the shadowy smokeWith a new colour veils, and generatesTh' excrescent pile on one, peeling it offFrom th' other body, lo! upon his feetOne upright rose, and prone the other fell. Not yet their glaring and malignant lampsWere shifted, though each feature chang'd beneath. Of him who stood erect, the mounting faceRetreated towards the temples, and what thereSuperfluous matter came, shot out in earsFrom the smooth cheeks, the rest, not backward dragg'd, Of its excess did shape the nose; and swell'dInto due size protuberant the lips. He, on the earth who lay, meanwhile extendsHis sharpen'd visage, and draws down the earsInto the head, as doth the slug his horns. His tongue continuous before and aptFor utt'rance, severs; and the other's forkClosing unites. That done the smoke was laid. The soul, transform'd into the brute, glides off, Hissing along the vale, and after himThe other talking sputters; but soon turn'dHis new-grown shoulders on him, and in fewThus to another spake: "Along this pathCrawling, as I have done, speed Buoso now!"

So saw I fluctuate in successive changeTh' unsteady ballast of the seventh hold:And here if aught my tongue have swerv'd, eventsSo strange may be its warrant. O'er mine eyesConfusion hung, and on my thoughts amaze. 

Yet 'scap'd they not so covertly, but wellI mark'd Sciancato: he alone it wasOf the three first that came, who chang'd not: thou, The other's fate, Gaville, still dost rue. 

CANTO XXVI

FLORENCE exult! for thou so mightilyHast thriven, that o'er land and sea thy wingsThou beatest, and thy name spreads over hell!Among the plund'rers such the three I foundThy citizens, whence shame to me thy son, And no proud honour to thyself redounds. 

But if our minds, when dreaming near the dawn, Are of the truth presageful, thou ere longShalt feel what Prato, (not to say the rest)Would fain might come upon thee; and that chanceWere 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 guideRemounting scal'd the flinty steps, which lateWe downward trac'd, and drew me up the steep. Pursuing thus our solitary wayAmong the crags and splinters of the rock, Sped not our feet without the help of hands. 

Then sorrow seiz'd me, which e'en now revives, As my thought turns again to what I saw, And, more than I am wont, I rein and curbThe powers of nature in me, lest they runWhere Virtue guides not; that if aught of goodMy gentle star, or something better gave me, I envy not myself the precious boon. 

As in that season, when the sun least veilsHis face that lightens all, what time the flyGives way to the shrill gnat, the peasant thenUpon some cliff reclin'd, beneath him seesFire-flies innumerous spangling o'er the vale, Vineyard or tilth, where his day-labour lies:With flames so numberless throughout its spaceShone the eighth chasm, apparent, when the depthWas to my view expos'd. As he, whose wrongsThe bears aveng'd, at its departure sawElijah's chariot, when the steeds erectRais'd their steep flight for heav'n; his eyes meanwhile, Straining pursu'd them, till the flame aloneUpsoaring 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 fall'n, Though push'd not from the height. The guide, who mark'dHow I did gaze attentive, thus began:

"Within these ardours are the spirits, eachSwath'd in confining fire. "--"Master, thy word, "I answer'd, "hath assur'd me; yet I deem'dAlready of the truth, already wish'dTo ask thee, who is in yon fire, that comesSo parted at the summit, as it seem'dAscending from that funeral pile, where layThe Theban brothers?" He replied: "WithinUlysses there and Diomede endureTheir penal tortures, thus to vengeance nowTogether hasting, as erewhile to wrath. These in the flame with ceaseless groans deploreThe ambush of the horse, that open'd wideA portal for that goodly seed to pass, Which sow'd imperial Rome; nor less the guileLament they, whence of her Achilles 'reftDeidamia yet in death complains. And there is rued the stratagem, that TroyOf her Palladium spoil'd. "--"If they have powerOf utt'rance from within these sparks, " said I, "O master! think my prayer a thousand foldIn repetition urg'd, that thou vouchsafeTo pause, till here the horned flame arrive. See, how toward it with desire I bend. "

He thus: "Thy prayer is worthy of much praise, And I accept it therefore: but do thouThy 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 placeSeem'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 unfoldIn what clime death o'ertook him self-destroy'd. "

Of the old flame forthwith the greater hornBegan to roll, murmuring, as a fireThat labours with the wind, then to and froWagging the top, as a tongue uttering sounds, Threw out its voice, and spake: "When I escap'dFrom Circe, who beyond a circling yearHad held me near Caieta, by her charms, Ere thus Aeneas yet had nam'd the shore, Nor fondness for my son, nor reverenceOf my old father, nor return of love, That should have crown'd Penelope with joy, Could overcome in me the zeal I hadT' explore the world, and search the ways of life, Man's evil and his virtue. Forth I sail'dInto the deep illimitable main, With but one bark, and the small faithful bandThat yet cleav'd to me. As Iberia far, Far as Morocco either shore I saw, And the Sardinian and each isle besideWhich round that ocean bathes. Tardy with ageWere I and my companions, when we cameTo the strait pass, where Hercules ordain'dThe bound'ries 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 westThrough perils without number now have reach'd, To this the short remaining watch, that yetOur senses have to wake, refuse not proofOf the unpeopled world, following the trackOf Phoebus. Call to mind from whence we sprang:Ye were not form'd to live the life of brutesBut virtue to pursue and knowledge high. With these few words I sharpen'd for the voyageThe mind of my associates, that I thenCould scarcely have withheld them. To the dawnOur poop we turn'd, and for the witless flightMade 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-floorIt rose not. Five times re-illum'd, as oftVanish'd the light from underneath the moonSince the deep way we enter'd, when from farAppear'd a mountain dim, loftiest methoughtOf all I e'er beheld. Joy seiz'd us straight, But soon to mourning changed. From the new landA whirlwind sprung, and at her foremost sideDid strike the vessel. Thrice it whirl'd her roundWith all the waves, the fourth time lifted upThe poop, and sank the prow: so fate decreed:And over us the booming billow clos'd. "

CANTO XVII

NOW upward rose the flame, and still'd its lightTo speak no more, and now pass'd on with leaveFrom the mild poet gain'd, when following cameAnother, from whose top a sound confus'd, Forth issuing, drew our eyes that way to look. 

As the Sicilian bull, that rightfullyHis cries first echoed, who had shap'd its mould, Did so rebellow, with the voice of himTormented, that the brazen monster seem'dPierc'd through with pain; thus while no way they foundNor 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'dTheir motion at the tongue, these sounds we 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 arriveLet it not irk thee here to pause awhile, And with me parley: lo! it irks not meAnd yet I burn. If but e'en now thou fallinto this blind world, from that pleasant landOf Latium, whence I draw my sum of guilt, Tell me if those, who in Romagna dwell, Have peace or war. For of the mountains thereWas I, betwixt Urbino and the height, Whence Tyber 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 replyWas ready, and I spake without delay:

"O spirit! who art hidden here below!Never was thy Romagna without warIn 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 plumeO'ershadows Cervia. The green talons graspThe land, that stood erewhile the proof so long, And pil'd 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 augre of their fangs. 

"Lamone's city and Santerno's rangeUnder 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 pointOn either side wav'd, and thus breath'd 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 depthHas found his upward way, I answer thee, Nor fear lest infamy record the words. 

"A man of arms at first, I cloth'd me thenIn good Saint Francis' girdle, hoping soT' have made amends. And certainly my hopeHad fail'd not, but that he, whom curses light on, The' high priest again seduc'd me into sin. And how and wherefore listen while I tell. Long as this spirit mov'd the bones and pulpMy mother gave me, less my deeds bespakeThe nature of the lion than the fox. All ways of winding subtlety I knew, And with such art conducted, that the soundReach'd the world's limit. Soon as to that partOf life I found me come, when each behovesTo 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 foesAll Christians were, nor against Acre oneHad fought, nor traffic'd in the Soldan's land), He his great charge nor sacred ministryIn himself, rev'renc'd, nor in me that cord, Which us'd to mark with leanness whom it girded. As in Socrate, Constantine besoughtTo cure his leprosy Sylvester's aid, So me to cure the fever of his prideThis man besought: my counsel to that endHe ask'd: and I was silent: for his wordsSeem'd drunken: but forthwith he thus resum'd:'From thy heart banish fear: of all offenceI hitherto absolve thee. In return, Teach me my purpose so to execute, That Penestrino cumber earth no more. Heav'n, as thou knowest, I have power to shutAnd open: and the keys are therefore twain, The which my predecessor meanly priz'd. '"

Then, yielding to the forceful arguments, Of silence as more perilous I deem'd, And answer'd: "Father! since thou washest meClear 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 cameSaint Francis for me; but a cherub darkHe 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, hov'ring at his hair, No power can the impenitent absolve;Nor to repent and will at once consist, By contradiction absolute forbid. '"Oh mis'ry! how I shook myself, when heSeiz'd me, and cried, "Thou haply thought'st me notA disputant in logic so exact. "To Minos down he bore me, and the judgeTwin'd eight times round his callous back the tail, Which biting with excess of rage, he spake:"This is a guilty soul, that in the fireMust vanish. Hence perdition-doom'd I roveA prey to rankling sorrow in this garb. "

When he had thus fulfill'd his words, the flameIn dolour 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 overhangsThe foss, wherein the penalty is paidOf those, who load them with committed sin. 

CANTO XXVIII

WHO, e'en in words unfetter'd, might at fullTell of the wounds and blood that now I saw, Though he repeated oft the tale? No tongueSo vast a theme could equal, speech and thoughtBoth impotent alike. If in one bandCollected, stood the people all, who e'erPour'd on Apulia's happy soil their blood, Slain by the Trojans, and in that long warWhen of the rings the measur'd booty madeA pile so high, as Rome's historian writesWho errs not, with the multitude, that feltThe grinding force of Guiscard's Norman steel, And those the rest, whose bones are gather'd yetAt Ceperano, there where treacheryBranded th' Apulian name, or where beyondThy walls, O Tagliacozzo, without armsThe old Alardo conquer'd; and his limbsOne were to show transpierc'd, another hisClean lopt away; a spectacle like thisWere but a thing of nought, to the' hideous sightOf the ninth chasm. A rundlet, that hath lostIts middle or side stave, gapes not so wide, As one I mark'd, torn from the chin throughoutDown to the hinder passage: 'twixt the legsDangling his entrails hung, the midriff layOpen to view, and wretched ventricle, That turns th' englutted aliment to dross. 

Whilst eagerly I fix on him my gaze, He ey'd me, with his hands laid his breast bare, And cried; "Now mark how I do rip me! lo!

"How is Mohammed mangled! before meWalks Ali weeping, from the chin his faceCleft to the forelock; and the others allWhom here thou seest, while they liv'd, did sowScandal and schism, and therefore thus are rent. A fiend is here behind, who with his swordHacks us thus cruelly, slivering againEach of this ream, when we have compast roundThe dismal way, for first our gashes closeEre we repass before him. But say whoArt thou, that standest musing on the rock, Haply so lingering to delay the painSentenc'd upon thy crimes?"--"Him death not yet, "My guide rejoin'd, "hath overta'en, nor sinConducts to torment; but, that he may makeFull trial of your state, I who am deadMust 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 amazed, Forgetful of their pangs. "Thou, who perchanceShalt shortly view the sun, this warning thouBear to Dolcino: bid him, if he wish notHere soon to follow me, that with good storeOf food he arm him, lest impris'ning snowsYield him a victim to Novara's power, No easy conquest else. " With foot uprais'dFor stepping, spake Mohammed, on the groundThen fix'd it to depart. Another shade, Pierc'd in the throat, his nostrils mutilateE'en from beneath the eyebrows, and one earLopt off, who with the rest through wonder stoodGazing, before the rest advanc'd, and bar'dHis wind-pipe, that without was all o'ersmear'dWith crimson stain. "O thou!" said he, "whom sinCondemns not, and whom erst (unless too nearResemblance do deceive me) I aloftHave seen on Latian ground, call thou to mindPiero of Medicina, if againReturning, thou behold'st the pleasant landThat from Vercelli slopes to Mercabo;

"And there instruct the twain, whom Fano boastsHer worthiest sons, Guido and Angelo, That if 't is giv'n us here to scan arightThe future, they out of life's tenementShall be cast forth, and whelm'd under the wavesNear to Cattolica, through perfidyOf a fell tyrant. 'Twixt the Cyprian isleAnd Balearic, ne'er hath Neptune seenAn injury so foul, by pirates doneOr Argive crew of old. That one-ey'd traitor(Whose realm there is a spirit here were fainHis eye had still lack'd sight of) them shall bringTo conf'rence with him, then so shape his end, That they shall need not 'gainst Focara's windOffer up vow nor pray'r. " I answering thus:

"Declare, as thou dost wish that I aboveMay carry tidings of thee, who is he, In whom that sight doth wake such sad remembrance?"

Forthwith he laid his hand on the cheek-boneOf one, his fellow-spirit, and his jawsExpanding, cried: "Lo! this is he I wot of;He speaks not for himself: the outcast thisWho overwhelm'd the doubt in Caesar's mind, Affirming that delay to men prepar'dWas ever harmful. " Oh how terrifiedMethought was Curio, from whose throat was cutThe tongue, which spake that hardy word. Then oneMaim'd of each hand, uplifted in the gloomThe bleeding stumps, that they with gory spotsSullied his face, and cried: "'Remember theeOf Mosca, too, I who, alas! exclaim'd, 'The deed once done there is an end, ' that prov'dA 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 thereStill linger'd to behold the troop, and sawThings, such as I may fear without more proofTo tell of, but that conscience makes me firm, The boon companion, who her strong breast-plateBuckles on him, that feels no guilt withinAnd bids him on and fear not. Without doubtI saw, and yet it seems to pass before me, A headless trunk, that even as the restOf the sad flock pac'd onward. By the hairIt bore the sever'd member, lantern-wisePendent 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 headFull in our view, that nearer we might hearThe words, which thus it utter'd: "Now beholdThis grievous torment, thou, who breathing go'stTo spy the dead; behold if any elseBe terrible as this. And that on earthThou mayst bear tidings of me, know that IAm Bertrand, he of Born, who gave King JohnThe counsel mischievous. Father and sonI set at mutual war. For AbsalomAnd David more did not Ahitophel, Spurring them on maliciously to strife. For parting those so closely knit, my brainParted, alas! I carry from its source, That in this trunk inhabits. Thus the lawOf retribution fiercely works in me. "

===9

THE VISION

OF

HELL, PURGATORY, AND PARADISE

OR THE INFERNO

BY

DANTE ALIGHIERI

TRANSLATED BY

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

HELL

Part 9

Cantos 29 - 31

CANTO XXIX

SO were mine eyes inebriate with viewOf the vast multitude, whom various woundsDisfigur'd, that they long'd to stay and weep. 

But Virgil rous'd me: "What yet gazest on?Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight belowAmong the maim'd and miserable shades?Thou hast not shewn in any chasm besideThis weakness. Know, if thou wouldst number themThat two and twenty miles the valley windsIts circuit, and already is the moonBeneath our feet: the time permitted nowIs short, and more not seen remains to see. "

"If thou, " I straight replied, "hadst weigh'd the causeFor which I look'd, thou hadst perchance excus'dThe tarrying still. " My leader part pursu'dHis 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 moreAfflict itself for him. Direct elsewhereIts thought, and leave him. At the bridge's footI mark'd how he did point with menacing lookAt thee, and heard him by the others nam'dGeri of Bello. Thou so wholly thenWert busied with his spirit, who once rul'dThe towers of Hautefort, that thou lookedst notThat way, ere he was gone. "--"O guide belov'd!His violent death yet unaveng'd, " 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 soHath made me more compassionate his fate. "

So we discours'd to where the rock first show'dThe other valley, had more light been there, E'en to the lowest depth. Soon as we cameO'er the last cloister in the dismal roundsOf Malebolge, and the brotherhoodWere to our view expos'd, then many a dartOf sore lament assail'd me, headed allWith points of thrilling pity, that I clos'dBoth ears against the volley with mine hands. 

As were the torment, if each lazar-houseOf Valdichiana, in the sultry time'Twixt July and September, with the isleSardinia and Maremma's pestilent fen, Had heap'd their maladies all in one fossTogether; such was here the torment: direThe stench, as issuing steams from fester'd limbs. 

We on the utmost shore of the long rockDescended still to leftward. Then my sightWas livelier to explore the depth, whereinThe minister of the most mighty Lord, All-searching Justice, dooms to punishmentThe forgers noted on her dread record. 

More rueful was it not methinks to seeThe nation in Aegina droop, what timeEach 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 restor'd anewFrom seed of emmets) than was here to seeThe spirits, that languish'd through the murky valeUp-pil'd on many a stack. Confus'd they lay, One o'er the belly, o'er the shoulders oneRoll'd of another; sideling crawl'd a thirdAlong the dismal pathway. Step by stepWe journey'd on, in silence looking roundAnd list'ning those diseas'd, who strove in vainTo lift their forms. Then two I mark'd, that satPropp'd 'gainst each other, as two brazen pansSet to retain the heat. From head to foot, A tetter bark'd them round. Nor saw I e'erGroom currying so fast, for whom his lordImpatient waited, or himself perchanceTir'd with long watching, as of these each onePlied quickly his keen nails, through furiousnessOf ne'er abated pruriency. The crustCame drawn from underneath in flakes, like scalesScrap'd from the bream or fish of broader mail. 

"O thou, who with thy fingers rendest offThy coat of proof, " thus spake my guide to one, "And sometimes makest tearing pincers of them, Tell me if any born of Latian landBe among these within: so may thy nailsServe thee for everlasting to this toil. "

"Both are of Latium, " weeping he replied, "Whom tortur'd thus thou seest: but who art thouThat hast inquir'd 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'dTrembling toward us, with the rest, whose earThose words redounding struck. To me my liegeAddress'd him: "Speak to them whate'er thou list. "

And I therewith began: "So may no timeFilch your remembrance from the thoughts of menIn th' upper world, but after many sunsSurvive 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 broughtTo 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 voidOf wisdom, will'd me to declare to himThe secret of mine art: and only hence, Because I made him not a Daedalus, Prevail'd on one suppos'd his sire to burn me. But Minos to this chasm last of the ten, For that I practis'd alchemy on earth, Has doom'd me. Him no subterfuge eludes. "

Then to the bard I spake: "Was ever raceLight as Sienna's? Sure not France herselfCan show a tribe so frivolous and vain. "

The other leprous spirit heard my words, And thus return'd: "Be Stricca from this chargeExempted, he who knew so temp'ratelyTo lay out fortune's gifts; and NiccoloWho first the spice's costly luxuryDiscover'd in that garden, where such seedRoots deepest in the soil: and be that troopExempted, with whom Caccia of AscianoLavish'd his vineyards and wide-spreading woods, And his rare wisdom Abbagliato show'dA spectacle for all. That thou mayst knowWho seconds thee against the SienneseThus 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 forg'd transmuted metals by the powerOf alchemy; and if I scan thee right, Thus needs must well remember how I apedCreative nature by my subtle art. "

CANTO XXX

WHAT time resentment burn'd in Juno's breastFor Semele against the Theban blood, As more than once in dire mischance was rued, Such fatal frenzy seiz'd on Athamas, That he his spouse beholding with a babeLaden on either arm, "Spread out, " he cried, "The meshes, that I take the lionessAnd the young lions at the pass:" then forthStretch'd he his merciless talons, grasping one, One helpless innocent, Learchus nam'd, Whom swinging down he dash'd upon a rock, And with her other burden self-destroy'dThe hapless mother plung'd: and when the prideOf all-presuming Troy fell from its height, By fortune overwhelm'd, and the old kingWith his realm perish'd, then did Hecuba, A wretch forlorn and captive, when she sawPolyxena first slaughter'd, and her son, Her Polydorus, on the wild sea-beachNext met the mourner's view, then reft of senseDid she run barking even as a dog;Such mighty power had grief to wrench her soul. Bet ne'er the Furies or of Thebes or TroyWith such fell cruelty were seen, their goadsInfixing in the limbs of man or beast, As now two pale and naked ghost I sawThat gnarling wildly scamper'd, like the swineExcluded 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'dHis belly stretch'd out prone. The other shape, He of Arezzo, there left trembling, spake;"That sprite of air is Schicchi; in like moodOf random mischief vent he still his spite. "

To whom I answ'ring: "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 soulOf wretched Myrrha, " he replied, "who burn'dWith most unholy flame for her own sire, "And a false shape assuming, so perform'dThe deed of sin; e'en as the other there, That onward passes, dar'd to counterfeitDonati's features, to feign'd testamentThe seal affixing, that himself might gain, For his own share, the lady of the herd. "

When vanish'd the two furious shades, on whomMine eye was held, I turn'd it back to viewThe other cursed spirits. One I sawIn fashion like a lute, had but the groinBeen sever'd, where it meets the forked part. Swoln dropsy, disproportioning the limbsWith ill-converted moisture, that the paunchSuits not the visage, open'd wide his lipsGasping as in the hectic man for drought, One towards 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 regardAdamo's woe. When living, full supplyNe'er lack'd me of what most I coveted;One drop of water now, alas! I crave. The rills, that glitter down the grassy slopesOf Casentino, making fresh and softThe banks whereby they glide to Arno's stream, Stand ever in my view; and not in vain;For more the pictur'd semblance dries me up, Much more than the disease, which makes the fleshDesert these shrivel'd cheeks. So from the place, Where I transgress'd, stern justice urging me, Takes means to quicken more my lab'ring sighs. There is Romena, where I falsifiedThe metal with the Baptist's form imprest, For which on earth I left my body burnt. But if I here might see the sorrowing soulOf Guido, Alessandro, or their brother, For Branda's limpid spring I would not changeThe welcome sight. One is e'en now within, If truly the mad spirits tell, that roundAre wand'ring. 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 moreThan half of one across. They brought me downAmong this tribe; induc'd by them I stamp'dThe florens with three carats of alloy. "

"Who are that abject pair, " I next inquir'd, "That closely bounding thee upon thy rightLie smoking, like a band in winter steep'dIn the chill stream?"--"When to this gulf I dropt, "He answer'd, "here I found them; since that hourThey have not turn'd, nor ever shall, I ween, Till time hath run his course. One is that dameThe 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 nam'd, With clench'd hand smote him on the braced paunch, That like a drum resounded: but forthwithAdamo smote him on the face, the blowReturning with his arm, that seem'd as hard. 

"Though my o'erweighty limbs have ta'en from meThe power to move, " said he, "I have an armAt liberty for such employ. " To whomWas answer'd: "When thou wentest to the fire, Thou hadst it not so ready at command, Then readier when it coin'd th' impostor gold. "

And thus the dropsied: "Ay, now speak'st thou true. But there thou gav'st 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 but for one fault, And thou for more than any imp beside. "

"Remember, " he replied, "O perjur'd 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 thirstWhence thy tongue cracks, witness the fluid mound, Rear'd by thy belly up before thine eyes, A mass corrupt. " To whom the coiner thus:"Thy mouth gapes wide as ever to let passIts evil saying. Me if thirst assails, Yet I am stuff'd with moisture. Thou art parch'd, Pains rack thy head, no urging would'st thou needTo make thee lap Narcissus' mirror up. "

I was all fix'd to listen, when my guideAdmonish'd: "Now beware: a little more. And I do quarrel with thee. " I perceiv'dHow angrily he spake, and towards him turn'dWith shame so poignant, as remember'd yetConfounds me. As a man that dreams of harmBefall'n him, dreaming wishes it a dream, And that which is, desires as if it were not, Such then was I, who wanting power to speakWish'd to excuse myself, and all the whileExcus'd me, though unweeting that I did. 

"More grievous fault than thine has been, less shame, "My master cried, "might expiate. Therefore castAll sorrow from thy soul; and if againChance bring thee, where like conference is held, Think I am ever at thy side. To hearSuch wrangling is a joy for vulgar minds. "

CANTO XXXI

THE very tongue, whose keen reproof beforeHad wounded me, that either cheek was stain'd, Now minister'd my cure. So have I heard, Achilles and his father's javelin caus'dPain first, and then the boon of health restor'd. 

Turning our back upon the vale of woe, W cross'd th' encircled mound in silence. ThereWas twilight dim, that far long the gloomMine eye advanc'd not: but I heard a hornSounded aloud. The peal it blew had madeThe thunder feeble. Following its courseThe adverse way, my strained eyes were bentOn that one spot. So terrible a blastOrlando blew not, when that dismal routO'erthrew the host of Charlemagne, and quench'dHis saintly warfare. Thitherward not longMy head was rais'd, when many lofty towersMethought I spied. "Master, " said I, "what landIs this?" He answer'd straight: "Too long a spaceOf intervening darkness has thine eyeTo traverse: thou hast therefore widely err'dIn thy imagining. Thither arriv'dThou well shalt see, how distance can deludeThe sense. A little therefore urge thee on. "

Then tenderly he caught me by the hand;"Yet know, " said he, "ere farther we advance, That it less strange may seem, these are not towers, But giants. In the pit they stand immers'd, Each from his navel downward, round the bank. "

As when a fog disperseth gradually, Our vision traces what the mist involvesCondens'd in air; so piercing through the grossAnd gloomy atmosphere, as more and moreWe near'd toward the brink, mine error fled, And fear came o'er me. As with circling roundOf turrets, Montereggion crowns his walls, E'en thus the shore, encompassing th' abyss, Was turreted with giants, half their lengthUprearing, horrible, whom Jove from heav'nYet threatens, when his mutt'ring thunder rolls. 

Of one already I descried the face, Shoulders, and breast, and of the belly hugeGreat part, and both arms down along his ribs. 

All-teeming nature, when her plastic handLeft framing of these monsters, did displayPast doubt her wisdom, taking from mad WarSuch slaves to do his bidding; and if sheRepent her not of th' elephant and whale, Who ponders well confesses her thereinWiser and more discreet; for when brute forceAnd evil will are back'd with subtlety, Resistance none avails. His visage seem'dIn length and bulk, as doth the pine, that topsSaint Peter's Roman fane; and th' other bonesOf like proportion, so that from aboveThe bank, which girdled him below, such heightArose his stature, that three FriezelandersHad striv'n in vain to reach but to his hair. Full thirty ample palms was he expos'dDownward from whence a man his garments loops. "Raphel bai ameth sabi almi, "So shouted his fierce lips, which sweeter hymnsBecame not; and my guide address'd him thus:

"O senseless spirit! let thy horn for theeInterpret: therewith vent thy rage, if rageOr other passion wring thee. Search thy neck, There shalt thou find the belt that binds it on. Wild spirit! lo, upon thy mighty breastWhere hangs the baldrick!" Then to me he spake:"He doth accuse himself. Nimrod is this, Through whose ill counsel in the world no moreOne tongue prevails. But pass we on, nor wasteOur 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 shadeFar fiercer and more huge. I cannot sayWhat master hand had girt him; but he heldBehind the right arm fetter'd, and beforeThe other with a chain, that fasten'd himFrom the neck down, and five times round his formApparent met the wreathed links. "This proud oneWould of his strength against almighty JoveMake trial, " said my guide; "whence he is thusRequited: Ephialtes him they call. 

"Great was his prowess, when the giants broughtFear on the gods: those arms, which then he piled, Now moves he never. " Forthwith I return'd:"Fain would I, if 't were possible, mine eyesOf Briareus immeasurable gain'dExperience next. " He answer'd: "Thou shalt seeNot far from hence Antaeus, who both speaksAnd is unfetter'd, who shall place us thereWhere guilt is at its depth. Far onward standsWhom thou wouldst fain behold, in chains, and madeLike to this spirit, save that in his looksMore fell he seems. " By violent earthquake rock'dNe'er shook a tow'r, so reeling to its base, As Ephialtes. More than ever thenI dreaded death, nor than the terror moreHad needed, if I had not seen the cordsThat held him fast. We, straightway journeying on, Came to Antaeus, who five ells completeWithout the head, forth issued from the cave. 

"O thou, who in the fortunate vale, that madeGreat Scipio heir of glory, when his swordDrove back the troop of Hannibal in flight, Who thence of old didst carry for thy spoilAn hundred lions; and if thou hadst foughtIn the high conflict on thy brethren's side, Seems as men yet believ'd, that through thine armThe sons of earth had conquer'd, now vouchsafeTo place us down beneath, where numbing coldLocks up Cocytus. Force not that we craveOr Tityus' help or Typhon's. Here is oneCan give what in this realm ye covet. StoopTherefore, nor scornfully distort thy lip. He in the upper world can yet bestowRenown on thee, for he doth live, and looksFor life yet longer, if before the timeGrace call him not unto herself. " Thus spakeThe teacher. He in haste forth stretch'd his hands, And caught my guide. Alcides whilom feltThat grapple straighten'd score. Soon as my guideHad felt it, he bespake me thus: "This wayThat I may clasp thee;" then so caught me up, That we were both one burden. As appearsThe tower of Carisenda, from beneathWhere it doth lean, if chance a passing cloudSo sail across, that opposite it hangs, Such then Antaeus seem'd, as at mine easeI mark'd him stooping. I were fain at timesT' have pass'd another way. Yet in th' abyss, That Lucifer with Judas low ingulfs, Lightly he plac'd us; nor there leaning stay'd, But rose as in a bark the stately mast. 

===10

THE VISION

OF

HELL, PURGATORY, AND PARADISE

OR THE INFERNO

BY

DANTE ALIGHIERI

TRANSLATED BY

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

HELL

Part 10

Cantos 32 - 34

CANTO XXXII

COULD I command rough rhimes and hoarse, to suitThat hole of sorrow, o'er which ev'ry rockHis firm abutment rears, then might the veinOf fancy rise full springing: but not mineSuch measures, and with falt'ring awe I touchThe mighty theme; for to describe the depthOf all the universe, is no emprizeTo jest with, and demands a tongue not us'dTo infant babbling. But let them assistMy song, the tuneful maidens, by whose aidAmphion wall'd in Thebes, so with the truthMy speech shall best accord. Oh ill-starr'd folk, Beyond all others wretched! who abideIn such a mansion, as scarce thought finds wordsTo speak of, better had ye here on earthBeen flocks or mountain goats. As down we stoodIn the dark pit beneath the giants' feet, But lower far than they, and I did gazeStill on the lofty battlement, a voiceBespoke me thus: "Look how thou walkest. TakeGood heed, thy soles do tread not on the headsOf thy poor brethren. " Thereupon I turn'd, And saw before and underneath my feetA lake, whose frozen surface liker seem'dTo glass than water. Not so thick a veilIn winter e'er hath Austrian Danube spreadO'er his still course, nor Tanais far remoteUnder the chilling sky. Roll'd o'er that massHad Tabernich or Pietrapana fall'n, Not e'en its rim had creak'd. As peeps the frogCroaking above the wave, what time in dreamsThe village gleaner oft pursues her toil, So, to where modest shame appears, thus lowBlue pinch'd and shrin'd 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 dolour of their heart. 

A space I look'd around, then at my feetSaw two so strictly join'd, that of their headThe 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 boundThe tears betwixt those orbs and held them there. Plank unto plank hath never cramp clos'd upSo stoutly. Whence like two enraged goatsThey clash'd together; them such fury seiz'd. 

And one, from whom the cold both ears had reft, Exclaim'd, still looking downward: "Why on usDost speculate so long? If thou wouldst knowWho are these two, the valley, whence his waveBisenzio slopes, did for its master ownTheir sire Alberto, and next him themselves. They from one body issued; and throughoutCaina thou mayst search, nor find a shadeMore worthy in congealment to be fix'd, Not him, whose breast and shadow Arthur's landAt that one blow dissever'd, not Focaccia, No not this spirit, whose o'erjutting headObstructs my onward view: he bore the nameOf Mascheroni: Tuscan if thou be, Well knowest who he was: and to cut shortAll further question, in my form beholdWhat once was Camiccione. I awaitCarlino here my kinsman, whose deep guiltShall wash out mine. " A thousand visagesThen mark'd I, which the keen and eager coldHad shap'd into a doggish grin; whence creepsA shiv'ring horror o'er me, at the thoughtOf those frore shallows. While we journey'd onToward the middle, at whose point unitesAll heavy substance, and I trembling wentThrough that eternal chillness, I know notIf will it were or destiny, or chance, But, passing 'midst the heads, my foot did strikeWith violent blow against the face of one. 

"Wherefore dost bruise me?" weeping, he exclaim'd, "Unless thy errand be some fresh revengeFor 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 paus'd, And to that shade I spake, who bitterlyStill curs'd me in his wrath. "What art thou, speak, That railest thus on others?" He replied:"Now who art thou, that smiting others' cheeksThrough Antenora roamest, with such forceAs were past suff'rance, 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 enrol. "

"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 thatI 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 offMore than one tuft, he barking, with his eyesDrawn in and downward, when another cried, "What ails thee, Bocca? Sound not loud enoughThy chatt'ring teeth, but thou must bark outright?What devil wrings thee?"--"Now, " said I, "be dumb, Accursed traitor! to thy shame of theeTrue tidings will I bear. "--"Off, " he replied, "Tell what thou list; but as thou escape from henceTo 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 starv'd sinners pine. ' If thou be ask'dWhat other shade was with them, at thy sideIs Beccaria, whose red gorge distain'dThe biting axe of Florence. Farther on, If I misdeem not, Soldanieri bides, With Ganellon, and Tribaldello, himWho op'd Faenza when the people slept. "

We now had left him, passing on our way, When I beheld two spirits by the icePent in one hollow, that the head of oneWas cowl unto the other; and as breadIs raven'd up through hunger, th' uppermostDid so apply his fangs to th' other's brain, Where the spine joins it. Not more furiouslyOn Menalippus' temples Tydeus gnaw'd, 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 rightWarrant thy grievance, knowing who ye are, And what the colour of his sinning was, I may repay thee in the world above, If that, wherewith I speak be moist so long. "

CANTO XXXIII

HIS jaws uplifting from their fell repast, That sinner wip'd them on the hairs o' th' head, Which he behind had mangled, then began:"Thy will obeying, I call up afreshSorrow past cure, which but to think of wringsMy heart, or ere I tell on't. But if words, That I may utter, shall prove seed to bearFruit of eternal infamy to him, The traitor whom I gnaw at, thou at onceShalt see me speak and weep. Who thou mayst beI know not, nor how here below art come:But Florentine thou seemest of a truth, When I do hear thee. Know I was on earthCount Ugolino, and th' Archbishop heRuggieri. Why I neighbour him so close, Now list. That through effect of his ill thoughtsIn him my trust reposing, I was ta'enAnd 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 grateWithin that mew, which for my sake the nameOf famine bears, where others yet must pine, Already through its opening sev'ral moonsHad 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 whelpsUnto the mountain, which forbids the sightOf Lucca to the Pisan. With lean brachsInquisitive and keen, before him rang'dLanfranchi with Sismondi and Gualandi. After short course the father and the sonsSeem'd tir'd and lagging, and methought I sawThe sharp tusks gore their sides. When I awokeBefore the dawn, amid their sleep I heardMy sons (for they were with me) weep and askFor bread. Right cruel art thou, if no pangThou 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 nearWhen they were wont to bring us food; the mindOf each misgave him through his dream, and IHeard, at its outlet underneath lock'd upThe' horrible tower: whence uttering not a wordI look'd upon the visage of my sons. I wept not: so all stone I felt within. They wept: and one, my little Anslem, cried:"Thou lookest so! Father what ails thee?" YetI shed no tear, nor answer'd all that dayNor the next night, until another sunCame out upon the world. When a faint beamHad to our doleful prison made its way, And in four countenances I descry'dThe image of my own, on either handThrough agony I bit, and they who thoughtI did it through desire of feeding, roseO' th' sudden, and cried, 'Father, we should grieveFar less, if thou wouldst eat of us: thou gav'stThese weeds of miserable flesh we wear, 'And do thou strip them off from us again. 'Then, not to make them sadder, I kept downMy spirit in stillness. That day and the nextWe all were silent. Ah, obdurate earth!Why open'dst not upon us? When we cameTo the fourth day, then Geddo at my feetOutstretch'd did fling him, crying, 'Hast no helpFor me, my father!' There he died, and e'enPlainly as thou seest me, saw I the threeFall one by one 'twixt the fifth day and sixth:

"Whence I betook me now grown blind to gropeOver them all, and for three days aloudCall'd on them who were dead. Then fasting gotThe mastery of grief. " Thus having spoke, Once more upon the wretched skull his teethHe fasten'd, like a mastiff's 'gainst the boneFirm and unyielding. Oh thou Pisa! shameOf all the people, who their dwelling makeIn that fair region, where th' Italian voiceIs heard, since that thy neighbours are so slackTo punish, from their deep foundations riseCapraia and Gorgona, and dam upThe mouth of Arno, that each soul in theeMay perish in the waters! What if fameReported that thy castles were betray'dBy Ugolino, yet no right hadst thouTo stretch his children on the rack. For them, Brigata, Ugaccione, and the pairOf gentle ones, of whom my song hath told, Their tender years, thou modern Thebes! did makeUncapable of guilt. Onward we pass'd, Where others skarf'd in rugged folds of iceNot on their feet were turn'd, but each revers'd. 

There very weeping suffers not to weep;For at their eyes grief seeking passage findsImpediment, and rolling inward turnsFor increase of sharp anguish: the first tearsHang cluster'd, and like crystal vizors show, Under the socket brimming all the cup. 

Now though the cold had from my face dislodg'dEach feeling, as 't were callous, yet me seem'dSome breath of wind I felt. "Whence cometh this, "Said I, "my master? Is not here belowAll vapour quench'd?"--"'Thou shalt be speedily, "He answer'd, "where thine eye shall tell thee whenceThe cause descrying of this airy shower. "

Then cried out one in the chill crust who mourn'd:"O souls so cruel! that the farthest postHath been assign'd you, from this face removeThe harden'd veil, that I may vent the griefImpregnate at my heart, some little spaceEre it congeal again!" I thus replied:"Say who thou wast, if thou wouldst have mine aid;And if I extricate thee not, far downAs to the lowest ice may I descend!"

"The friar Alberigo, " answered he, "Am I, who from the evil garden pluck'dIts fruitage, and am here repaid, the dateMore luscious for my fig. "--"Hah!" I exclaim'd, "Art thou too dead!"--"How in the world aloftIt fareth with my body, " answer'd he, "I am right ignorant. Such privilegeHath Ptolomea, that ofttimes the soulDrops hither, ere by Atropos divorc'd. And that thou mayst wipe out more willinglyThe glazed tear-drops that o'erlay mine eyes, Know that the soul, that moment she betrays, As I did, yields her body to a fiendWho after moves and governs it at will, Till all its time be rounded; headlong sheFalls to this cistern. And perchance aboveDoth yet appear the body of a ghost, Who here behind me winters. Him thou know'st, If thou but newly art arriv'd below. The years are many that have pass'd 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 fossBy th' evil talons guarded, where the pitchTenacious boils, had Michael Zanche reach'd, When this one left a demon in his steadIn his own body, and of one his kin, Who with him treachery wrought. But now put forthThy hand, and ope mine eyes. " I op'd them not. Ill manners were best courtesy to him. 

Ah Genoese! men perverse in every way, With every foulness stain'd, why from the earthAre ye not cancel'd? Such an one of yoursI with Romagna's darkest spirit found, As for his doings even now in soulIs in Cocytus plung'd, and yet doth seemIn body still alive upon the earth. 

CANTO XXXIV

"THE banners of Hell's Monarch do come forthTowards us; therefore look, " so spake my guide, "If thou discern him. " As, when breathes a cloudHeavy and dense, or when the shades of nightFall on our hemisphere, seems view'd from farA windmill, which the blast stirs briskly round, Such was the fabric then methought I saw, To shield me from the wind, forthwith I drewBehind my guide: no covert else was there. 

Now came I (and with fear I bid my strainRecord the marvel) where the souls were allWhelm'd underneath, transparent, as through glassPellucid the frail stem. Some prone were laid, Others stood upright, this upon the soles, That on his head, a third with face to feetArch'd like a bow. When to the point we came, Whereat my guide was pleas'd that I should seeThe 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 thyselfIf quick conception work in thee at all, How I did feel. That emperor, who swaysThe realm of sorrow, at mid breast from th' iceStood forth; and I in stature am more likeA giant, than the giants are in his arms. Mark now how great that whole must be, which suitsWith such a part. If he were beautifulAs he is hideous now, and yet did dareTo scowl upon his Maker, well from himMay all our mis'ry flow. Oh what a sight!How passing strange it seem'd, when I did spyUpon his head three faces: one in frontOf hue vermilion, th' other two with thisMidway each shoulder join'd and at the crest;The right 'twixt wan and yellow seem'd: the leftTo look on, such as come from whence old NileStoops to the lowlands. Under each shot forthTwo mighty wings, enormous as becameA bird so vast. Sails never such I sawOutstretch'd on the wide sea. No plumes had they, But were in texture like a bat, and theseHe flapp'd i' th' air, that from him issued stillThree winds, wherewith Cocytus to its depthWas frozen. At six eyes he wept: the tearsAdown three chins distill'd with bloody foam. At every mouth his teeth a sinner champ'dBruis'd as with pond'rous engine, so that threeWere in this guise tormented. But far moreThan from that gnawing, was the foremost pang'dBy the fierce rending, whence ofttimes the backWas stript of all its skin. "That upper spirit, Who hath worse punishment, " so spake my guide, "Is Judas, he that hath his head withinAnd plies the feet without. Of th' other two, Whose heads are under, from the murky jawWho hangs, is Brutus: lo! how he doth writheAnd speaks not! Th' other Cassius, that appearsSo large of limb. But night now re-ascends, 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 wingsEnough were op'd, caught fast the shaggy sides, And down from pile to pile descending stepp'dBetween the thick fell and the jagged ice. 

Soon as he reach'd the point, whereat the thighUpon the swelling of the haunches turns, My leader there with pain and struggling hardTurn'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 spakeThe teacher, panting like a man forespent, "We must depart from evil so extreme. "Then at a rocky opening issued forth, And plac'd me on a brink to sit, next join'dWith wary step my side. I rais'd mine eyes, Believing that I Lucifer should seeWhere he was lately left, but saw him nowWith legs held upward. Let the grosser sort, Who see not what the point was I had pass'd, 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 noonThe sun returns. " It was no palace-hallLofty and luminous wherein we stood, But natural dungeon where ill footing wasAnd scant supply of light. "Ere from th' abyssI sep'rate, " thus when risen I began, "My guide! vouchsafe few words to set me freeFrom error's thralldom. Where is now the ice?How standeth he in posture thus revers'd?And how from eve to morn in space so briefHath the sun made his transit?" He in fewThus answering spake: "Thou deemest thou art stillOn th' other side the centre, where I grasp'dTh' abhorred worm, that boreth through the world. Thou wast on th' other side, so long as IDescended; when I turn'd, thou didst o'erpassThat point, to which from ev'ry part is dragg'dAll heavy substance. Thou art now arriv'dUnder the hemisphere opposed to that, Which the great continent doth overspread, And underneath whose canopy expir'dThe Man, that was born sinless, and so liv'd. Thy feet are planted on the smallest sphere, Whose other aspect is Judecca. MornHere rises, when there evening sets: and he, Whose shaggy pile was scal'd, yet standeth fix'd, As at the first. On this part he fell downFrom heav'n; and th' earth, here prominent before, Through fear of him did veil her with the sea, And to our hemisphere retir'd. PerchanceTo shun him was the vacant space left hereBy what of firm land on this side appears, That sprang aloof. " There is a place beneath, From Belzebub as distant, as extendsThe vaulted tomb, discover'd not by sight, But by the sound of brooklet, that descendsThis way along the hollow of a rock, Which, as it winds with no precipitous course, The wave hath eaten. By that hidden wayMy guide and I did enter, to returnTo the fair world: and heedless of reposeWe climbed, he first, I following his steps, Till on our view the beautiful lights of heav'nDawn'd through a circular opening in the cave:Thus issuing we again beheld the stars.