| |
| BROKE the deep slumber in my brain a crash | |
| Of heavy thunder, that I shook myself, | |
| As one by main force roused. Risen upright, | |
| My rested eyes I moved around, and search’d | |
| With fixed ken, to know what place it was | 5 |
| Wherein I stood. For certain, on the brink | |
| I found me of the lamentable vale, | |
| The dread abyss, that joins a thunderous sound | |
| Of plaints innumerable. Dark and deep, | |
| And thick with clouds o’erspread, mine eye in vain | 10 |
| Explored its bottom, nor could aught discern. | |
| “Now let us to the blind world there beneath | |
| Descend,” the bard began, all pale of look: | |
| “I go the first, and thou shalt follow next.” | |
| Then I, his alter’d hue perceiving, thus: | 15 |
| “How may I speed, if thou yieldest to dread, | |
| Who still art wont to comfort me in doubt?” | |
| He then: “The anguish of that race below | |
| With pity stains my cheek, which thou for fear | |
| Mistakest. Let us on. Our length of way | 20 |
| Urges to haste.” Onward, this said, he moved; | |
| And entering led me with him, on the bounds | |
| Of the first circle that surrounds the abyss. | |
| Here, as mine ear could note, no plaint was heard | |
| Except of sighs, that made the eternal air | 25 |
| Tremble, not caused by tortures, but from grief | |
| Felt by those multitudes, many and vast, | |
| Of men, women, and infants. Then to me | |
| The gentle guide: “Inquirest thou not what spirits | |
| Are these which thou beholdest? Ere thou pass | 30 |
| Farther, I would thou know, that these of sin | |
| Were blameless; and if aught they merited, | |
| If profits not, since baptism was not heirs, | |
| The portal 1 to thy faith. If they before | |
| The Gospel lived, they served not God aright; | 35 |
| And among such am I. For these defects, | |
| And for no other evil, we are lost; | |
| Only so far afflicted, that we live | |
| Desiring without hope.” Sore grief assail’d | |
| My heart at hearing this, for well I knew | 40 |
| Suspended in that Limbo many a soul | |
| Of mighty worth. “O tell me, sire revered! | |
| Tell me, my master!” I began, through wish | |
| Of full assurance in that holy faith | |
| Which vanquishes all error; “say, did e’er | 45 |
| Any, or through his own or other’s merit, | |
| Come forth from thence, who afterward was blest?” | |
| Piercing the secret purport 2 of my speech, | |
| He answer’d: “I was new to that estate | |
| When I beheld a puissant one 3 arrive | 50 |
| Amongst us, with victorious trophy crown’d. | |
| He forth the shade of our first parent drew, | |
| Abel, his child, and Noah righteous man, | |
| Of Moses lawgiver for faith approved, | |
| Of patriarch Abraham, and David king, | 55 |
| Israel with his sire and with his sons, | |
| Nor without Rachel whom so hard he won, | |
| And others many more, whom He to bliss | |
| Exalted. Before these, be thou assured, | |
| No spirit of human kind was ever saved.” | 60 |
| We, while he spake, ceased not our onward road, | |
| Still passing through the wood; for so I name | |
| Those spirits thick beset. We were not far | |
| On this side from the summit, when I kenn’d | |
| A flame, that o’er the darken’d hemisphere | 65 |
| Prevailing shined. Yet we a little space | |
| Were distant, not so far but I in part | |
| Discover’d that a tribe in honour high | |
| That placed possess’d. “O thou, who every art | |
| And science valuest! who are these, that boast | 70 |
| Such honor, separate from all the rest?” | |
| He answer’d: “The renown of their great names, | |
| That echoes through your world above, acquires | |
| Favor in Heaven, which holds them thus advanced.” | |
| Meantime a voice I heard: “Honor the bard | 75 |
| Sublime! his shade returns, that left us late!” | |
| No sooner ceased the sound, that I beheld | |
| Four mighty spirits toward us bend their steps, | |
| Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad. | |
| When thus my master kind began: “Mark him, | 80 |
| Who in his right hand bears that falchion keen, | |
| The other three preceding, as their lord. | |
| This is that Homer, of all bards supreme: | |
| Flaccus the next, in satire’s vein excelling; | |
| The third is Naso; Lucan is the last. | 85 |
| Because they all that appellation own, | |
| With which the voice singly accosted me, | |
| Honouring they greet me thus, and well they judge.” | |
| So I beheld united the bright school | |
| Of him the monarch of sublimest song, 4 | 90 |
| That o’er the others like an eagle soars. | |
| When they together short discourse had held, | |
| They turn’d to me, with salutation kind | |
| Beckoning me; at the which my master smiled: | |
| Nor was this all; but greater honour still | 95 |
| They gave me, for they made me of their tribe; | |
| And I was sixth amid so learn’d a band. | |
| Far as the luminous beacon on we pass’d, | |
| Speaking of matters, then befitting well | |
| To speak, now fitter left untold. At foot | 100 |
| Of a magnificent castle we arrived, | |
| Seven times with lofty walls begirt, and around | |
| Defended by a pleasant stream. O’er this | |
| As o’er dry land we pass’d. Next, through seven gates, | |
| I with those sages enter’d, and we came | 105 |
| Into a mead with lively verdure fresh. | |
| There dwelt a race, who slow their eyes around | |
| Majestically moved, and in their port | |
| Bore eminent authority: they spake | |
| Seldom, but all their words were tuneful sweet. | 110 |
| We to one side retired, into a place | |
| Open and bright and lofty, whence each one | |
| Stood manifest to view. Incontinent, | |
| There on the green enamel of the plain | |
| Were shown me the great spirits, by whose sight | 115 |
| I am exalted in my own esteem. | |
| Electra 5 there I saw accompanied | |
| By many, among whom Hector I knew, | |
| Anchises’ pious son, and with hawk’s eye | |
| Cæsar all arm’d, and by Camilla there | 120 |
| Penthesilea. On the other side, | |
| Old King Latinus seated by his child | |
| Lavinia, and that Brutus I beheld | |
| Who Tarquin chased, Lucretia, Cato’s wife | |
| Marcia, with Julia 6 and Cornelia there; | 125 |
| And sole apart retired, the Soldan fierce. 7 | |
| Then when a little more I raised my brow, | |
| I spied the master of the sapient throng, 8 | |
| Seated amid the philosophic train. | |
| Him all admire, all pay him reverence due. | 130 |
| There Socrates and Plato both I mark’d | |
| Nearest to him in rank, Democritus, | |
| Who sets the world at chance, 9 Diogenes, | |
| With Heraclitus, and Empedocles, | |
| And Anaxagoras, and Thales sage, | 135 |
| Zeno, and Dioscorides well read | |
| In nature’s secret lore. Orpheus I mark’d | |
| And Linus, Tully and moral Seneca, | |
| Euclid and Ptolemy, Hippocrates, | |
| Galenus, Avicen, and him who made | 140 |
| That commentary vast, Averroes. 10 | |
| Of all to speak at full were vain attempt; | |
| For my wide theme so urges, that oft-times | |
| My words fall short of what bechanced. In two | |
| The six associates part. Another way | 145 |
| My sage guide leads me, from that air serene, | |
| Into a climate ever vex’d with storms: | |
| And to a part I come, where no light shines. | |
