| |
| MY theme pursuing, I relate, that ere | |
| We reach’d the lofty turret’s base, our eyes | |
| Its height ascended, where we mark’d uphung | |
| Two cressets, and another saw from far | |
| Return the signal, so remote, that scarce | 5 |
| The eye could catch its beam. I, turning round | |
| To the deep source of knowledge, thus inquired: | |
| “Say what this means; and what, that other light | |
| In answer set: what agency doth this?” | |
| “There on the filthy waters,” he replied, | 10 |
| “E’en now what next awaits us mayst thou see, | |
| If the marsh-gendered fog conceal it not.” | |
| Never was arrow from the cord dismiss’d, | |
| That ran its way so nimbly through the air, | |
| As a small bark, that through the waves I spied | 15 |
| Toward us coming, under the sole sway | |
| Of one that ferried it, who cried aloud: | |
| “Art thou arrived, fell spirit?”—“Phlegyas, Phlegyas, 1 | |
| This time thou criest in vain,” my lord replied; | |
| “No longer shalt thou have us, but while o’er | 20 |
| The slimy pool we pass.” As one who hears | |
| Of some great wrong he hath sustain’d, whereat | |
| Inly he pines: so Phlegyas inly pined | |
| In his fierce ire. My guide, descending, stepp’d | |
| Into the skiff, and bade me enter next, | 25 |
| Close at his side; nor, till my entrance, seem’d | |
| The vessel freighted. Soon as both embark’d, | |
| Cutting the waves, goes on the ancient prow, | |
| More deeply than with others it is wont. | |
| While we our course o’er the dead channel held, | 30 |
| One drench’d in mire before me came, and said: | |
| “Who art thou, that thus comest ere thine hour?” | |
| I answer’d: “Though I come, I tarry not: | |
| But who art thou, that art become so foul?” | |
| “One, as thou seest, who mourn:” he straight replied. | 35 |
| To which I thus: “In mourning and in woe, | |
| Curst spirit! tarry thou. I know thee well, | |
| E’en thus in filth disguised.” Then stretch’d he forth | |
| Hands to the bark; whereof my teacher sage | |
| Aware, thrusting him back: “Away! down there | 40 |
| To the other dogs!” then, with his arms my neck | |
| Encircling, kiss’d my cheek, and spake: “O soul, | |
| Justly disdainful! blest was she in whom | |
| Thou wast conceived. He in the world was one | |
| For arrogance noted: to his memory | 45 |
| No virtue lends its lustre; even so | |
| Here is his shadow furious. There above, | |
| How many now hold themselves mighty kings, | |
| Who here like swine shall wallow in the mire, | |
| Leaving behind them horrible dispraise.” | 50 |
| I then: “Master! him fain would I behold | |
| Whelm’d in these dregs, before we quit the lake.” | |
| He thus: “Or ever to thy view the shore | |
| Be offer’d, satisfied shall be that wish, | |
| Which well deserves completion.” Scarce his words | 55 |
| Were ended, when I saw the miry tribes | |
| Set on him with such violence, that yet | |
| For that render I thanks to God, and praise. | |
| “To Filippo Argenti!” 2 cried they all: | |
| And on himself the moody Florentine | 60 |
| Turn’d his avenging fangs. Him here we left, | |
| Nor speak I of him more. But on mine ear | |
| Sudden a sound of lamentation smote, | |
| Whereat mine eye unbarr’d I sent abroad. | |
| And thus the good instructor: “Now, my son | 65 |
| Draws near the city, that of Dis is named, | |
| With its grave denizens, a mighty throng.” | |
| I thus: “The minarets already, Sir! | |
| There, certes, in the valley I descry, | |
| Gleaming vermilion, as if they from fire | 70 |
| Had issued.” He replied: “Eternal fire, | |
| That inward burns, shows them with ruddy flame | |
| Illumed; as in this nether Hell thou seest.” | |
| We came within the fosses deep, that moat | |
| This region comfortless. The walls appear’d | 75 |
| 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 | 80 |
| 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 | 85 |
| 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 | 90 |
| 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 3 | |
| Security hast render’d me, and drawn | 95 |
| 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, | 100 |
| 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 | 105 |
| 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, | 110 |
| 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 | 115 |
| 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 | 120 |
| Shall vanquish, use what arts they may within | |
| For hindrance. This their insolence, not new, 4 | |
| 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, | 125 |
| On this side of its entrance, down the steep, | |
| Passing the circles, unescorted, comes | |
| One whose strong might can open us this land.” | |
