The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri: The Inferno

Me of my native place the dear constraint[433] Led to restore the leaves which round were strewn, To him whose voice by this time was grown faint. Thence came we where the second round joins on Unto the third, wherein how terrible The art of justice can be, is well shown. But, clearly of these wondrous things to tell, I say we entered on a plain of sand Which from its bed doth every plant repel. The dolorous wood lies round it like a band,10 As that by the drear fosse is circled round. Upon its very edge we came to a stand. And there was nothing within all that bound But burnt and heavy sand; like that once trod Beneath the feet of Cato[434] was the ground. Ah, what a terror, O revenge of God! Shouldst thou awake in any that may read Of what before mine eyes was spread abroad. I of great herds of naked souls took heed. Most piteously was weeping every one;20 And different fortunes seemed to them decreed. For some of them[435] upon the ground lay prone, And some were sitting huddled up and bent, While others, restless, wandered up and down. More numerous were they that roaming went Than they that were tormented lying low; But these had tongues more loosened to lament. O’er all the

sand, deliberate and slow, Broad open flakes of fire were downward rained, As ’mong the Alps[436] in calm descends the snow.30 Such Alexander[437] saw when he attained The hottest India; on his host they fell And all unbroken on the earth remained; Wherefore he bade his phalanxes tread well The ground, because when taken one by one The burning flakes they could the better quell. So here eternal fire[438] was pouring down; As tinder ’neath the steel, so here the sands Kindled, whence pain more vehement was known. And, dancing up and down, the wretched hands[439]40 Beat here and there for ever without rest; Brushing away from them the falling brands. And I: ‘O Master, by all things confessed Victor, except by obdurate evil powers Who at the gate[440] to stop our passage pressed, Who is the enormous one who noway cowers Beneath the fire; with fierce disdainful air Lying as if untortured by the showers?’ And that same shade, because he was aware That touching him I of my Guide was fain50 To learn, cried: ‘As in life, myself I bear In death. Though Jupiter should tire again His smith, from whom he snatched in angry bout The bolt by which I at the last was slain;[441] Though one by one

he tire the others out At the black forge in Mongibello[442] placed, While “Ho, good Vulcan, help me!” he shall shout— The cry he once at Phlegra’s[443] battle raised; Though hurled with all his might at me shall fly His bolts, yet sweet revenge he shall not taste.’60 Then spake my Guide, and in a voice so high Never till then heard I from him such tone: ‘O Capaneus, because unquenchably Thy pride doth burn, worse pain by thee is known. Into no torture save thy madness wild Fit for thy fury couldest thou be thrown.’ Then, to me turning with a face more mild, He said: ‘Of the Seven Kings was he of old, Who leaguered Thebes, and as he God reviled Him in small reverence still he seems to hold;70 But for his bosom his own insolence Supplies fit ornament,[444] as now I told. Now follow; but take heed lest passing hence Thy feet upon the burning sand should tread; But keep them firm where runs the forest fence.’[445] We reached a place—nor any word we said— Where issues from the wood a streamlet small; I shake but to recall its colour red. Like that which does from Bulicamë[446] fall, And losel women later ’mong them share;80 So through the sand this brooklet’s waters crawl. Its bottom

and its banks I was aware Were stone, and stone the rims on either side. From this I knew the passage[447] must be there. ‘Of all that I have shown thee as thy guide Since when we by the gateway[448] entered in, Whose threshold unto no one is denied, Nothing by thee has yet encountered been So worthy as this brook to cause surprise, O’er which the falling fire-flakes quenched are seen.’90 These were my Leader’s words. For full supplies I prayed him of the food of which to taste Keen appetite he made within me rise. ‘In middle sea there lies a country waste, Known by the name of Crete,’ I then was told, ‘Under whose king[449] the world of yore was chaste. There stands a mountain, once the joyous hold Of woods and streams; as Ida ’twas renowned, Now ’tis deserted like a thing grown old. For a safe cradle ’twas by Rhea found.100 To nurse her child[450] in; and his infant cry, Lest it betrayed him, she with clamours drowned. Within the mount an old man towereth high. Towards Damietta are his shoulders thrown; On Rome, as on his mirror, rests his eye. His head is fashioned of pure gold alone; Of purest silver are his arms and chest; ’Tis brass to where his legs divide; then down From

that is all of iron of the best, Save the right foot, which is of baken clay;110 And upon this foot doth he chiefly rest. Save what is gold, doth every part display A fissure dripping tears; these, gathering all Together, through the grotto pierce a way. From rock to rock into this deep they fall, Feed Acheron[451] and Styx and Phlegethon, Then downward travelling by this strait canal, Far as the place where further slope is none, Cocytus form; and what that pool may be I say not now. Thou’lt see it further on.’120 ‘If this brook rises,’ he was asked by me, ‘Within our world, how comes it that no trace We saw of it till on this boundary?’ And he replied: ‘Thou knowest that the place Is round, and far as thou hast moved thy feet, Still to the left hand[452] sinking to the base, Nath’less thy circuit is not yet complete. Therefore if something new we chance to spy, Amazement needs not on thy face have seat.’ I then: ‘But, Master, where doth Lethe lie,130 And Phlegethon? Of that thou sayest nought; Of this thou say’st, those tears its flood supply.’ ‘It likes me well to be by thee besought; But by the boiling red wave,’ I was told, ‘To half thy question was an answer brought.

Lethe,[453] not in this pit, shalt thou behold. Thither to wash themselves the spirits go, When penitence has made them spotless souled.’ Then said he: ‘From the wood ’tis fitting now That we depart; behind me press thou nigh.140 Keep we the margins, for they do not glow, And over them, ere fallen, the fire-flakes die.’