Dante Alighieri - Inferno

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HarperCollins is proud to present its new range of best-loved, essential classics.‘There is no greater sorrow then to recall our times of joy in wretchedness.’Considered one of the greatest medieval poems written in the common vernacular of the time, Dante’s Inferno begins on Good Friday in the year 1300. As he wanders through a dark forest, Dante loses his way and stumbles across the ghost of the poet Virgil. Virgil promises to lead him back to the top of the mountain, but to do so, they must pass through Hell, encountering all manner of shocking horrors, sins and evil torments along the way, evoking questions about God’s justice, human behaviour and Christianity.

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After that I had listened to my Teacher,

Naming the dames of eld and cavaliers,

Pity prevailed, and I was nigh bewildered.

And I began: “O Poet, willingly

Speak would I to those two, who go together,

And seem upon the wind to be so light.”

And, he to me: “Thou’lt mark, when they shall be

Nearer to us; and then do thou implore them

By love which leadeth them, and they will come.”

Soon as the wind in our direction sways them,

My voice uplift I: “O ye weary souls!

Come speak to us, if no one interdicts it.”

As turtle-doves, called onward by desire,

With open and steady wings to the sweet nest

Fly through the air by their volition borne,

So came they from the band where Dido is,

Approaching us athwart the air malign,

So strong was the affectionate appeal.

“O living creature gracious and benignant,

Who visiting goest through the purple air

Us, who have stained the world incarnadine,

If were the King of the Universe our friend,

We would pray unto him to give thee peace,

Since thou hast pity on our woe perverse.

Of what it pleases thee to hear and speak,

That will we hear, and we will speak to you,

While silent is the wind, as it is now.

Sitteth the city, wherein I was born,

Upon the sea-shore where the Po descends

To rest in peace with all his retinue.

Love, that on gentle heart doth swiftly seize,

Seized this man for the person beautiful

That was ta’en from me, and still the mode offends me.

Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving,

Seized me with pleasure of this man so strongly,

That, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me;

Love has conducted us unto one death;

Caina waiteth him who quenched our life!”

These words were borne along from them to us.

As soon as I had heard those souls tormented,

I bowed my face, and so long held it down

Until the Poet said to me: “What thinkest?”

When I made answer, I began: “Alas!

How many pleasant thoughts, how much desire,

Conducted these unto the dolorous pass!”

Then unto them I turned me, and I spake,

And I began: “Thine agonies, Francesca,

Sad and compassionate to weeping make me.

But tell me, at the time of those sweet sighs,

By what and in what manner Love conceded,

That you should know your dubious desires?”

And she to me: “There is no greater sorrow

Than to be mindful of the happy time

In misery, and that thy Teacher knows.

But, if to recognise the earliest root

Of love in us thou hast so great desire,

I will do even as he who weeps and speaks.

One day we reading were for our delight

Of Launcelot, how Love did him enthral.

Alone we were and without any fear.

Full many a time our eyes together drew

That reading, and drove the colour from our faces;

But one point only was it that o’ercame us.

When as we read of the much-longed-for smile

Being by such a noble lover kissed,

This one, who ne’er from me shall be divided,

Kissed me upon the mouth all palpitating.

Galeotto was the book and he who wrote it.

That day no farther did we read therein.”

And all the while one spirit uttered this,

The other one did weep so, that, for pity,

I swooned away as if I had been dying,

And fell, even as a dead body falls.

CANTO VI

At the return of consciousness, that closed

Before the pity of those two relations,

Which utterly with sadness had confused me,

New torments I behold, and new tormented

Around me, whichsoever way I move,

And whichsoever way I turn, and gaze.

In the third circle am I of the rain

Eternal, maledict, and cold, and heavy;

Its law and quality are never new.

Huge hail, and water sombre-hued, and snow,

Athwart the tenebrous air pour down amain;

Noisome the earth is, that receiveth this.

Cerberus, monster cruel and uncouth,

With his three gullets like a dog is barking

Over the people that are there submerged.

Red eyes he has, and unctuous beard and black,

And belly large, and armed with claws his hands;

He rends the spirits, flays, and quarters them.

Howl the rain maketh them like unto dogs;

One side they make a shelter for the other;

Oft turn themselves the wretched reprobates.

When Cerberus perceived us, the great worm!

His mouths he opened, and displayed his tusks;

Not a limb had he that was motionless.

And my Conductor, with his spans extended,

Took of the earth, and with his fists well filled,

He threw it into those rapacious gullets.

Such as that dog is, who by barking craves,

And quiet grows soon as his food he gnaws,

For to devour it he but thinks and struggles,

The like became those muzzles filth-begrimed

Of Cerberus the demon, who so thunders

Over the souls that they would fain be deaf.

We passed across the shadows, which subdues

The heavy rain-storm, and we placed our feet

Upon their vanity that person seems.

They all were lying prone upon the earth,

Excepting one, who sat upright as soon

As he beheld us passing on before him.

“O thou that art conducted through this Hell,”

He said to me, “recall me, if thou canst;

Thyself wast made before I was unmade.”

And I to him: “The anguish which thou hast

Perhaps doth draw thee out of my remembrance,

So that it seems not I have ever seen thee.

But tell me who thou art, that in so doleful

A place art put, and in such punishment,

If some are greater, none is so displeasing.”

And he to me: “Thy city, which is full

Of envy so that now the sack runs over,

Held me within it in the life serene.

You citizens were wont to call me Ciacco;

For the pernicious sin of gluttony

I, as thou seest, am battered by this rain.

And I, sad soul, am not the only one,

For all these suffer the like penalty

For the like sin;” and word no more spake he.

I answered him: “Ciacco, thy wretchedness

Weighs on me so that it to weep invites me;

But tell me, if thou knowest, to what shall come

The citizens of the divided city;

If any there be just; and the occasion

Tell me why so much discord has assailed it.”

And he to me: “They, after long contention,

Will come to bloodshed; and the rustic party

Will drive the other out with much offence.

Then afterwards behoves it this one fall

Within three suns, and rise again the other

By force of him who now is on the coast.

High will it hold its forehead a long while,

Keeping the other under heavy burdens,

Howe’er it weeps thereat and is indignant.

The just are two, and are not understood there;

Envy and Arrogance and Avarice

Are the three sparks that have all hearts enkindled.”

Here ended he his tearful utterance;

And I to him: “I wish thee still to teach me,

And make a gift to me of further speech.

Farinata and Tegghiaio, once so worthy,

Jacopo Rusticucci, Arrigo, and Mosca,

And others who on good deeds set their thoughts,

Say where they are, and cause that I may know them;

For great desire constraineth me to learn

If Heaven doth sweeten them, or Hell envenom.”

And he: “They are among the blacker souls;

A different sin downweighs them to the bottom;

If thou so far descendest, thou canst see them.

But when thou art again in the sweet world,

I pray thee to the mind of others bring me;

No more I tell thee and no more I answer.”

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