Array Dante Alighieri - Harvard Classics Volume 20

And orbits. Colours variegated more

Nor Turks nor Tartars e’er on cloth of state

With interchangeable embroidery wove,

Nor spread Arachne o’er her curious loom.

As oft-times a light skiff, moor’d to the shore,

Stands part in water, part upon the land;

Or, as where dwells the greedy German boor,

The beaver settles, watching for his prey;

So on the rim, that fenced the sand with rock,

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

Glancing, his tail upturn’d its venomous fork,

With sting like scorpion’s arm’d. Then thus my guide,

“Now need our way must turn few steps apart,

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

Thereat, toward the right our downward course

We shaped, and, better to escape the flame

And burning marle, ten paces on the verge

Proceeded. Soon as we to him arrive,

A little farther on mine eye beholds

A tribe of spirits, seated on the sand

Near to the void. Forthwith my master spake:

“That to the full thy knowledge may extend

Of all this round contains, go now, and mark

The mien these wear: but hold not long discourse.

Till thou returnest, I with him meantime

Will parley, that to us he may vouchsafe

The aid of his strong shoulders.” Thus alone,

Yet forward on the extremity I paced

Of that seventh circle, where the mournful tribe

Were seated. At the eyes forth gush’d their pangs,

Against the vapors and the torrid soil

Alternately their shifting hands they plied.

Thus use the dogs in summer still to ply

Their jaws and feet by turns, when bitten sore

By gnats, or flies, or gadflies swarming round.

Noting the visages of some, who lay

Beneath the pelting of that dolorous fire,

One of them all I knew not; but perceived,

That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch [116]

With colours and with emblems various mark’d,

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

And when, amongst them, looking round I came,

A yellow purse [117]I saw with azure wrought,

That wore a lion’s countenance and port.

Then, still my sight pursuing its career,

Another [118]I beheld, than blood more red,

A goose display of whiter wing than curd.

And one, who bore a fat and azure swine [119]

Pictured on his white scrip, address’d me thus:

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

Since yet thou livest, that my neighbor here

Vitaliano [120]on my left shall sit.

A Paduan with these Florentines am I.

Oft-times they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming,

‘Oh! haste that noble knight, [121]he who the pouch

With the three goats will bring.’” This said, he writhed

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

That licks his nostrils. I, lest longer stay

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

Backward my steps from those sad spirits turn’d.

My guide already seated on the haunch

Of the fierce animal I found; and thus

He me encouraged. “Be thou stout: be bold.

Down such a steep flight must we now descend.

Mount thou before: for, that no power the tail

May have to harm thee, I will be i’ th’ midst.”

As one, who hath an ague fit so near,

His nails already are turn’d blue, and he

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

Such was my cheer at hearing of his words.

But shame soon interposed her threat, who makes

The servant bold in presence of his lord.

I settled me upon those shoulders huge,

And would have said, but that the words to aid

My purpose came not, “Look thou clasp me firm.”

But he whose succour then not first I proved,

Soon as I mounted, in his arms aloft,

Embracing, held me up; and thus he spake:

“Geryon! now move thee: be thy wheeling gyres

Of ample circuit, easy thy descent.

Think on the unusual burden thou sustain’st.”

As a small vessel, backening out from land,

Her station quits; so thence the monster loosed,

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

There, where the breast had been, his forked tail.

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

Gathering the air up with retractile claws.

Not greater was the dread, when Phaeton

The reins let drop at random, whence high heaven,

Whereof signs yet appear, was wrapt in flames;

Nor when ill-fated Icarus perceived,

By liquefaction of the scalded wax,

The trusted pennons loosen’d from his loins,

His sire exclaiming loud, “Ill way thou keep’st,”

Than was my dread, when round me on each part

The air I view’d, and other object none

Save the fell beast. He, slowly sailing, wheels

His downward motion, unobserved of me,

But that the wind, arising to my face,

Breathes on me from below. Now on our right

I heard the cataract beneath us leap

With hideous crash; whence bending down to explore,

New terror I conceived at the steep plunge;

For flames I saw, and wailings smote mine ear:

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

And then distinguish’d, unperceived before,

By the dread torments that on every side

Drew nearer, how our downward course we wound.

As falcon, that hath long been on the wing,

But lure nor bid hath seen, while in despair

The falconer cries, “Ah me! thou stoop’st to earth,”

Wearied descends, whence nimbly he arose

In many an airy wheel, and lighting sits

At distance from his lord in angry mood;

So Geryon lighting places us on foot

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

And, of his burden there discharged, forthwith

Sprang forward, like an arrow from the string.

Argument.—The Poet describes the situation and form of the eight circle, divided into ten gulfs, which contain as many different descriptions of fraudulent sinners; but in the present Canto he treats only of two sorts: the first is of those who, either for their own pleasure, or for that of another, have seduced any woman from her duty; and these are scourged of demons in the first gulf: the other sort is of flatterers, who in the second gulf are condemned to remain immersed in filth.

There is a place within the depths of Hell

Call’d Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain’d

With hue ferruginous, e’en as the steep

That round it circling winds. Right in the midst

Of that abominable region yawns

A spacious gulf profound, whereof the frame

Due time shall tell. The circle, that remains,

Throughout its round, between the gulf and base

Of the high craggy banks, successive forms

Ten bastions, in its hollow bottom raised.

As where, to guard the walls, full many a foss

Begirds some stately castle, sure defence

Affording to the space within; so here

Were model’d these: and as like fortresses,

E’en from their threshold to the brink without,

Are flank’d with bridges; from the rock’s low base

Thus flinty paths advanced, that ’cross the moles

And dykes struck onward far as to the gulf,

That in one bound collected cuts them off.

Such was the place, wherein we found ourselves

From Geryon’s back dislodged. The bard to left

Held on his way, and I behind him moved.

On our right hand new misery I saw,

New pains, new executioner of wrath,

That swarming peopled that first chasm. Below

Were naked sinners. Hitherward they came,

Meeting our faces, from the middle point;

With us beyond, but with a larger stride.

E’en thus the Romans, [122]when the year returns