Array Dante Alighieri - Harvard Classics Volume 20

As they were framed of iron. We had made

Wide circuit, ere a place we reach’d, where loud

The mariner cried vehement: “Go forth:

The entrance is here.” Upon the gates I spied

More than a thousand, who of old from Heaven

Were shower’d. With ireful gestures, “Who is this,”

They cried, “that, without death first felt, goes through

The regions of the dead?” My sapient guide

Made sign that he for secret parley wish’d;

Whereat their angry scorn abating, thus

They spake: “Come thou alone; and let him go,

Who hath so hardily enter’d this realm.

Alone return he by his witless way;

If well he knew it, let him prove. For thee,

Here shalt thou tarry, who through clime so dark

Hast been his escort.” Now bethink thee, reader!

What cheer was mine at sound of those curst words.

I did believe I never should return.

“O my loved guide! who more than seven times [51]

Security hast render’d me, and drawn

From peril deep, whereto I stood exposed,

Desert me not,” I cried, “in this extreme.

And, if our onward going be denied,

Together trace we back our steps with speed.”

My liege, who thither had conducted me,

Replied: “Fear not: for of our passage none

Hath power to disappoint us, by such high

Authority permitted. But do thou

Expect me here; meanwhile, thy wearied spirit

Comfort, and feed with kindly hope, assured

I will not leave thee in this lower world.”

This said, departs the sire benevolent,

And quits me. Hesitating I remain

At war, ’twixt will and will not, in my thoughts.

I could not hear what terms he offer’d them,

But they conferr’d not long, for all at once

Pellmell rush’d back within. Closed were the gates,

By those our adversaries, on the breast

Of my liege lord: excluded, he return’d

To me with tardy steps. Upon the ground

His eyes were bent, and from his brow erased

All confidence, while thus in sighs he spake:

“Who hath denied me these abodes of woe?”

Then thus to me: “That I am anger’d, think

No ground of terror: in this trial I

Shall vanquish, use what arts they may within

For hindrance. This their insolence, not new, [52]

Erewhile at gate less secret they display’d,

Which still is without bolt; upon its arch

Thou saw’st the deadly scroll: and even now,

On this side of its entrance, down the steep,

Passing the circles, unescorted, comes

One whose strong might can open us this land.”

Argument.—After some hindrances, and having seen the hellish furies and other monsters, the Poet, by the help of an angel, enters the city of Dis, wherein he discovers that the heretics are punished in tombs burning with intense fire; and he, together with Virgil, passes onward between the sepulchres and the walls of the city.

The hue, [53]which coward dread on my pale cheeks

Imprinted when I saw my guide turn back,

Chased that from his which newly they had worn,

And inwardly restrain’d it. He, as one

Who listens, stood attentive: for his eye

Not far could lead him through the sable air,

And the thick-gathering cloud. “It yet behoves

We win this fight;” thus he began: “if not,

Such aid to us is offer’d—Oh! how long

Me seems it, ere the promised help arrive.”

I noted, how the sequel of his words

Cloked their beginning; for the last he spake

Agreed not with the first. But not the less

My fear was at his saying; sith I drew

To import worse, perchance, than that he held,

His mutilated speech. “Doth ever any

Into this rueful concave’s extreme depth

Descend, out of the first degree, whose pain

Is deprivation merely of sweet hope?”

Thus I inquiring. “Rarely,” he replied,

“It chances, that among us any makes

This journey, which I wend. Erewhile, ’tis true,

Once came I here beneath, conjured by fell

Erichtho, [54]sorceress, who compell’d the shades

Back to their bodies. No long space my flesh

Was naked of me, when within these walls

She made me enter, to draw forth a spirit

From out of Judas’ circle. Lowest place

Is that of all, obscurest, and removed

Farthest from Heaven’s all-circling orb. The road

Full well I know: thou therefore rest secure.

That lake, the noisome stench exhaling, round

The city of grief encompasses, which now

We may not enter without rage, “Yet more

He added: but I hold it not in mind,

For that mine eye toward the lofty tower

Had drawn me wholly, to its burning top;

Where, in an instant, I beheld uprisen

At once three hellish furies stain’d with blood.

In limb and motion feminine they seem’d;

Around them greenest hydras twisting roll’d

Their volumes; adders and cerastes crept

Instead of hair, and their fierce temples bound.

He, knowing well the miserable hags

Who tend the queen of endless owe, thus spake:

“Mark thou each dire Erynnis. To the left,

This is Megæra; on the right hand, she

Who wails, Alecto; and Tisiphone

I’ th’ midst.” This said, in silence he remain’d.

Their breast they each one clawing tore; themselves

Smote with their palms, and such thrill clamour raised,

That to the bard I clung, suspicion-bound.

“Hasten Medusa: so to adamant

Him shall we change;” all looking down exclaim’d:

“E’en when by Theseus’ might assail’d, we took

No ill revenge.” “Turn thyself round and keep

Thy countenance hid; for if the Gorgon dire

Be shown, and thou shouldst view it, thy return

Upwards would be forever lost.” This said,

Himself, my gentle master, turn’d me round;

Nor trusted he my hands, but with his own

He also hid me. Ye of intellect

Sound and entire, mark well the lore [55]conceal’d

Under close texture of the mystic strain.

And now there came o’er the perturbed waves

Loud-crashing, terrible, a sound that made

Either shore tremble, as if of a wind

Impetuous, from conflicting vapors sprung,

That ’gainst some forest driving all his might,

Plucks off the branches, beats them down, and hurls

Afar; then, onward passing, proudly sweeps

His whirlwind rage, while beasts and shepherds fly.

Mine eyes he loosed, and spake: “And now direct

Thy visual nerve along that ancient foam,

There, thickest where the smoke ascends.” As frogs

Before their foe the serpent, through the wave

Ply swiftly all, till at the ground each one

Lies on a heap; more than a thousand spirits

Destroy’d, so saw I fleeing before one

Who pass’d with unwet feet the Stygian sound.

He, from his face removing the gross air,

Oft his left hand forth stretch’d, and seem’d alone

By that annoyance wearied. I perceived

That he was sent from Heaven; and to my guide

Turn’d me, who signal made, that I should stand

Quiet, and bend to him. Ah me! how full

Of noble anger seem’d he. To the gate

He came, and with his wand touch’d it, whereat

Open without impediment it flew.

“Outcasts of heaven! O abject race, scorn’d!”

Began he, on the horrid grunsel standing,

“Whence doth this wild excess of insolence

Lodge in you? wherefore kick you ’gainst that will

Ne’er frustrate of its end, and which so oft

Hath laid on you enforcement of your pangs?

What profits at the Fates to butt the horn?

Your Cerberus, [56]if ye remember, hence

Bears still, peel’d of their hair, his throat and maw.”