Divine Comedy, Longfellow's Translation, Hell · Dante Alighieri
Chapter 1
As many as the hind (who on the hill Rests at the time when he who lights the world His countenance keeps least concealed from us, While as the fly gives place unto the gnat) Seeth the glow-worms down along the valley, Perchance there where he ploughs and makes his vintage; With flames as manifold resplendent all Was the eighth Bolgia, as I grew aware As soon as I was where the depth appeared. And such as he who with the bears avenged him Beheld Elijah’s chariot at departing, What time the steeds to heaven erect uprose, For with his eye he could not follow it So as to see aught else than flame alone, Even as a little cloud ascending upward, Thus each along the gorge of the intrenchment Was moving; for not one reveals the theft, And every flame a sinner steals away. I stood upon the bridge uprisen to see, So that, if I had seized not on a rock, Down had I fallen without being pushed. And the Leader, who beheld me so attent, Exclaimed: “Within the fires the spirits are; Each swathes himself with that wherewith he burns.” “My Master,” I replied, “by hearing thee I am more sure; but I surmised already It might be so, and already wished to ask thee Who is within that fire, which comes so cleft At top, it seems uprising from the pyre Where was Eteocles with his brother placed.”
He answered me: “Within there are tormented Ulysses and Diomed, and thus together They unto vengeance run as unto wrath. And there within their flame do they lament The ambush of the horse, which made the door Whence issued forth the Romans’ gentle seed; Therein is wept the craft, for which being dead Deidamia still deplores Achilles, And pain for the Palladium there is borne.” “If they within those sparks possess the power To speak,” I said, “thee, Master, much I pray, And re-pray, that the prayer be worth a thousand, That thou make no denial of awaiting Until the horned flame shall hither come; Thou seest that with desire I lean towards it.” And he to me: “Worthy is thy entreaty Of much applause, and therefore I accept it; But take heed that thy tongue restrain itself. Leave me to speak, because I have conceived That which thou wishest; for they might disdain Perchance, since they were Greeks, discourse of thine.” When now the flame had come unto that point, Where to my Leader it seemed time and place, After this fashion did I hear him speak: “O ye, who are twofold within one fire, If I deserved of you, while I was living, If I deserved of you or much or little When in the world I wrote the lofty verses, Do not move on, but one of you declare Whither, being lost, he went away to die.”
Which is remaining of your senses still Be ye unwilling to deny the knowledge, Following the sun, of the unpeopled world. Consider ye the seed from which ye sprang; Ye were not made to live like unto brutes, But for pursuit of virtue and of knowledge.’ So eager did I render my companions, With this brief exhortation, for the voyage, That then I hardly could have held them back. And having turned our stern unto the morning, We of the oars made wings for our mad flight, Evermore gaining on the larboard side. Already all the stars of the other pole The night beheld, and ours so very low It did not rise above the ocean floor. Five times rekindled and as many quenched Had been the splendour underneath the moon, Since we had entered into the deep pass, When there appeared to us a mountain, dim From distance, and it seemed to me so high As I had never any one beheld. Joyful were we, and soon it turned to weeping; For out of the new land a whirlwind rose, And smote upon the fore part of the ship. Three times it made her whirl with all the waters, At the fourth time it made the stern uplift, And the prow downward go, as pleased Another, Until the sea above us closed again.”
Say, if the Romagnuols have peace or war, For I was from the mountains there between Urbino and the yoke whence Tiber bursts.” I still was downward bent and listening, When my Conductor touched me on the side, Saying: “Speak thou: this one a Latian is.” And I, who had beforehand my reply In readiness, forthwith began to speak: “O soul, that down below there art concealed, Romagna thine is not and never has been Without war in the bosom of its tyrants; But open war I none have left there now. Ravenna stands as it long years has stood; The Eagle of Polenta there is brooding, So that she covers Cervia with her vans. The city which once made the long resistance, And of the French a sanguinary heap, Beneath the Green Paws finds itself again; Verrucchio’s ancient Mastiff and the new, Who made such bad disposal of Montagna, Where they are wont make wimbles of their teeth. The cities of Lamone and Santerno Governs the Lioncel of the white lair, Who changes sides ’twixt summer-time and winter; And that of which the Savio bathes the flank, Even as it lies between the plain and mountain, Lives between tyranny and a free state. Now I entreat thee tell us who thou art; Be not more stubborn than the rest have been, So may thy name hold front there in the world.”
Staying to look in wonder with the others, Before the others did his gullet open, Which outwardly was red in every part, And said: “O thou, whom guilt doth not condemn, And whom I once saw up in Latian land, Unless too great similitude deceive me, Call to remembrance Pier da Medicina, If e’er thou see again the lovely plain That from Vercelli slopes to Marcabo, And make it known to the best two of Fano, To Messer Guido and Angiolello likewise, That if foreseeing here be not in vain, Cast over from their vessel shall they be, And drowned near unto the Cattolica, By the betrayal of a tyrant fell. Between the isles of Cyprus and Majorca Neptune ne’er yet beheld so great a crime, Neither of pirates nor Argolic people. That traitor, who sees only with one eye, And holds the land, which some one here with me Would fain be fasting from the vision of, Will make them come unto a parley with him; Then will do so, that to Focara’s wind They will not stand in need of vow or prayer.” And I to him: “Show to me and declare, If thou wouldst have me bear up news of thee, Who is this person of the bitter vision.” Then did he lay his hand upon the jaw Of one of his companions, and his mouth Oped, crying: “This is he, and he speaks not.
This one, being banished, every doubt submerged In Caesar by affirming the forearmed Always with detriment allowed delay.” O how bewildered unto me appeared, With tongue asunder in his windpipe slit, Curio, who in speaking was so bold! And one, who both his hands dissevered had, The stumps uplifting through the murky air, So that the blood made horrible his face, Cried out: “Thou shalt remember Mosca also, Who said, alas! ‘A thing done has an end!’ Which was an ill seed for the Tuscan people.” “And death unto thy race,” thereto I added; Whence he, accumulating woe on woe, Departed, like a person sad and crazed. But I remained to look upon the crowd; And saw a thing which I should be afraid, Without some further proof, even to recount, If it were not that conscience reassures me, That good companion which emboldens man Beneath the hauberk of its feeling pure. I truly saw, and still I seem to see it, A trunk without a head walk in like manner As walked the others of the mournful herd. And by the hair it held the head dissevered, Hung from the hand in fashion of a lantern, And that upon us gazed and said: “O me!” It of itself made to itself a lamp, And they were two in one, and one in two; How that can be, He knows who so ordains it.
When it was come close to the bridge’s foot, It lifted high its arm with all the head, To bring more closely unto us its words, Which were: “Behold now the sore penalty, Thou, who dost breathing go the dead beholding; Behold if any be as great as this. And so that thou may carry news of me, Know that Bertram de Born am I, the same Who gave to the Young King the evil comfort. I made the father and the son rebellious; Achitophel not more with Absalom And David did with his accursed goadings. Because I parted persons so united, Parted do I now bear my brain, alas! From its beginning, which is in this trunk. Thus is observed in me the counterpoise.” Inferno: Canto XXIX The many people and the divers wounds These eyes of mine had so inebriated, That they were wishful to stand still and weep; But said Virgilius: “What dost thou still gaze at? Why is thy sight still riveted down there Among the mournful, mutilated shades? Thou hast not done so at the other Bolge; Consider, if to count them thou believest, That two-and-twenty miles the valley winds, And now the moon is underneath our feet; Henceforth the time allotted us is brief, And more is to be seen than what thou seest.”
Divers lamentings pierced me through and through, Which with compassion had their arrows barbed, Whereat mine ears I covered with my hands. What pain would be, if from the hospitals Of Valdichiana, ’twixt July and September, And of Maremma and Sardinia All the diseases in one moat were gathered, Such was it here, and such a stench came from it As from putrescent limbs is wont to issue. We had descended on the furthest bank From the long crag, upon the left hand still, And then more vivid was my power of sight Down tow’rds the bottom, where the ministress Of the high Lord, Justice infallible, Punishes forgers, which she here records. I do not think a sadder sight to see Was in Aegina the whole people sick, (When was the air so full of pestilence, The animals, down to the little worm, All fell, and afterwards the ancient people, According as the poets have affirmed, Were from the seed of ants restored again,) Than was it to behold through that dark valley The spirits languishing in divers heaps. This on the belly, that upon the back One of the other lay, and others crawling Shifted themselves along the dismal road. We step by step went onward without speech, Gazing upon and listening to the sick Who had not strength enough to lift their bodies.
“So may your memory not steal away In the first world from out the minds of men, But so may it survive ’neath many suns, Say to me who ye are, and of what people; Let not your foul and loathsome punishment Make you afraid to show yourselves to me.” “I of Arezzo was,” one made reply, “And Albert of Siena had me burned; But what I died for does not bring me here. ’Tis true I said to him, speaking in jest, That I could rise by flight into the air, And he who had conceit, but little wit, Would have me show to him the art; and only Because no Daedalus I made him, made me Be burned by one who held him as his son. But unto the last Bolgia of the ten, For alchemy, which in the world I practised, Minos, who cannot err, has me condemned.” And to the Poet said I: “Now was ever So vain a people as the Sienese? Not for a certainty the French by far.” Whereat the other leper, who had heard me, Replied unto my speech: “Taking out Stricca, Who knew the art of moderate expenses, And Niccolo, who the luxurious use Of cloves discovered earliest of all Within that garden where such seed takes root; And taking out the band, among whom squandered Caccia d’Ascian his vineyards and vast woods, And where his wit the Abbagliato proffered!
Seeking him out among this squalid folk, Although the circuit be eleven miles, And be not less than half a mile across. For them am I in such a family; They did induce me into coining florins, Which had three carats of impurity.” And I to him: “Who are the two poor wretches That smoke like unto a wet hand in winter, Lying there close upon thy right-hand confines?” “I found them here,” replied he, “when I rained Into this chasm, and since they have not turned, Nor do I think they will for evermore. One the false woman is who accused Joseph, The other the false Sinon, Greek of Troy; From acute fever they send forth such reek.” And one of them, who felt himself annoyed At being, peradventure, named so darkly, Smote with the fist upon his hardened paunch. It gave a sound, as if it were a drum; And Master Adam smote him in the face, With arm that did not seem to be less hard, Saying to him: “Although be taken from me All motion, for my limbs that heavy are, I have an arm unfettered for such need.” Whereat he answer made: “When thou didst go Unto the fire, thou hadst it not so ready: But hadst it so and more when thou wast coining.”
Such I became, not having power to speak, For to excuse myself I wished, and still Excused myself, and did not think I did it. “Less shame doth wash away a greater fault,” The Master said, “than this of thine has been; Therefore thyself disburden of all sadness, And make account that I am aye beside thee, If e’er it come to pass that fortune bring thee Where there are people in a like dispute; For a base wish it is to wish to hear it.” Inferno: Canto XXXI One and the selfsame tongue first wounded me, So that it tinged the one cheek and the other, And then held out to me the medicine; Thus do I hear that once Achilles’ spear, His and his father’s, used to be the cause First of a sad and then a gracious boon. We turned our backs upon the wretched valley, Upon the bank that girds it round about, Going across it without any speech. There it was less than night, and less than day, So that my sight went little in advance; But I could hear the blare of a loud horn, So loud it would have made each thunder faint, Which, counter to it following its way, Mine eyes directed wholly to one place. After the dolorous discomfiture When Charlemagne the holy emprise lost, So terribly Orlando sounded not.
Short while my head turned thitherward I held When many lofty towers I seemed to see, Whereat I: “Master, say, what town is this?” And he to me: “Because thou peerest forth Athwart the darkness at too great a distance, It happens that thou errest in thy fancy. Well shalt thou see, if thou arrivest there, How much the sense deceives itself by distance; Therefore a little faster spur thee on.” Then tenderly he took me by the hand, And said: “Before we farther have advanced, That the reality may seem to thee Less strange, know that these are not towers, but giants, And they are in the well, around the bank, From navel downward, one and all of them.” As, when the fog is vanishing away, Little by little doth the sight refigure Whate’er the mist that crowds the air conceals, So, piercing through the dense and darksome air, More and more near approaching tow’rd the verge, My error fled, and fear came over me; Because as on its circular parapets Montereggione crowns itself with towers, E’en thus the margin which surrounds the well With one half of their bodies turreted The horrible giants, whom Jove menaces E’en now from out the heavens when he thunders. And I of one already saw the face, Shoulders, and breast, and great part of the belly, And down along his sides both of the arms.
Certainly Nature, when she left the making Of animals like these, did well indeed, By taking such executors from Mars; And if of elephants and whales she doth not Repent her, whosoever looketh subtly More just and more discreet will hold her for it; For where the argument of intellect Is added unto evil will and power, No rampart can the people make against it. His face appeared to me as long and large As is at Rome the pine-cone of Saint Peter’s, And in proportion were the other bones; So that the margin, which an apron was Down from the middle, showed so much of him Above it, that to reach up to his hair Three Frieslanders in vain had vaunted them; For I beheld thirty great palms of him Down from the place where man his mantle buckles. “Raphael mai amech izabi almi,” Began to clamour the ferocious mouth, To which were not befitting sweeter psalms. And unto him my Guide: “Soul idiotic, Keep to thy horn, and vent thyself with that, When wrath or other passion touches thee. Search round thy neck, and thou wilt find the belt Which keeps it fastened, O bewildered soul, And see it, where it bars thy mighty breast.” Then said to me: “He doth himself accuse; This one is Nimrod, by whose evil thought One language in the world is not still used.
Here let us leave him and not speak in vain; For even such to him is every language As his to others, which to none is known.” Therefore a longer journey did we make, Turned to the left, and a crossbow-shot oft We found another far more fierce and large. In binding him, who might the master be I cannot say; but he had pinioned close Behind the right arm, and in front the other, With chains, that held him so begirt about From the neck down, that on the part uncovered It wound itself as far as the fifth gyre. “This proud one wished to make experiment Of his own power against the Supreme Jove,” My Leader said, “whence he has such a guerdon. Ephialtes is his name; he showed great prowess. What time the giants terrified the gods; The arms he wielded never more he moves.” And I to him: “If possible, I should wish That of the measureless Briareus These eyes of mine might have experience.” Whence he replied: “Thou shalt behold Antaeus Close by here, who can speak and is unbound, Who at the bottom of all crime shall place us. Much farther yon is he whom thou wouldst see, And he is bound, and fashioned like to this one, Save that he seems in aspect more ferocious.”
There never was an earthquake of such might That it could shake a tower so violently, As Ephialtes suddenly shook himself. Then was I more afraid of death than ever, For nothing more was needful than the fear, If I had not beheld the manacles. Then we proceeded farther in advance, And to Antaeus came, who, full five ells Without the head, forth issued from the cavern. “O thou, who in the valley fortunate, Which Scipio the heir of glory made, When Hannibal turned back with all his hosts, Once brought’st a thousand lions for thy prey, And who, hadst thou been at the mighty war Among thy brothers, some it seems still think The sons of Earth the victory would have gained: Place us below, nor be disdainful of it, There where the cold doth lock Cocytus up. Make us not go to Tityus nor Typhoeus; This one can give of that which here is longed for; Therefore stoop down, and do not curl thy lip. Still in the world can he restore thy fame; Because he lives, and still expects long life, If to itself Grace call him not untimely.” So said the Master; and in haste the other His hands extended and took up my Guide,— Hands whose great pressure Hercules once felt. Virgilius, when he felt himself embraced, Said unto me: “Draw nigh, that I may take thee;” Then of himself and me one bundle made.
I heard it said to me: “Look how thou steppest! Take heed thou do not trample with thy feet The heads of the tired, miserable brothers!” Whereat I turned me round, and saw before me And underfoot a lake, that from the frost The semblance had of glass, and not of water. So thick a veil ne’er made upon its current In winter-time Danube in Austria, Nor there beneath the frigid sky the Don, As there was here; so that if Tambernich Had fallen upon it, or Pietrapana, E’en at the edge ’twould not have given a creak. And as to croak the frog doth place himself With muzzle out of water,—when is dreaming Of gleaning oftentimes the peasant-girl,— Livid, as far down as where shame appears, Were the disconsolate shades within the ice, Setting their teeth unto the note of storks. Each one his countenance held downward bent; From mouth the cold, from eyes the doleful heart Among them witness of itself procures. When round about me somewhat I had looked, I downward turned me, and saw two so close, The hair upon their heads together mingled. “Ye who so strain your breasts together, tell me,” I said, “who are you;” and they bent their necks, And when to me their faces they had lifted, Their eyes, which first were only moist within, Gushed o’er the eyelids, and the frost congealed The tears between, and locked them up again.
Clamp never bound together wood with wood So strongly; whereat they, like two he-goats, Butted together, so much wrath o’ercame them. And one, who had by reason of the cold Lost both his ears, still with his visage downward, Said: “Why dost thou so mirror thyself in us? If thou desire to know who these two are, The valley whence Bisenzio descends Belonged to them and to their father Albert. They from one body came, and all Caina Thou shalt search through, and shalt not find a shade More worthy to be fixed in gelatine; Not he in whom were broken breast and shadow At one and the same blow by Arthur’s hand; Focaccia not; not he who me encumbers So with his head I see no farther forward, And bore the name of Sassol Mascheroni; Well knowest thou who he was, if thou art Tuscan. And that thou put me not to further speech, Know that I Camicion de’ Pazzi was, And wait Carlino to exonerate me.” Then I beheld a thousand faces, made Purple with cold; whence o’er me comes a shudder, And evermore will come, at frozen ponds. And while we were advancing tow’rds the middle, Where everything of weight unites together, And I was shivering in the eternal shade, Whether ’twere will, or destiny, or chance, I know not; but in walking ’mong the heads I struck my foot hard in the face of one.
Had shown me through its opening many moons Already, when I dreamed the evil dream Which of the future rent for me the veil. This one appeared to me as lord and master, Hunting the wolf and whelps upon the mountain For which the Pisans cannot Lucca see. With sleuth-hounds gaunt, and eager, and well trained, Gualandi with Sismondi and Lanfianchi He had sent out before him to the front. After brief course seemed unto me forespent The father and the sons, and with sharp tushes It seemed to me I saw their flanks ripped open. When I before the morrow was awake, Moaning amid their sleep I heard my sons Who with me were, and asking after bread. Cruel indeed art thou, if yet thou grieve not, Thinking of what my heart foreboded me, And weep’st thou not, what art thou wont to weep at? They were awake now, and the hour drew nigh At which our food used to be brought to us, And through his dream was each one apprehensive; And I heard locking up the under door Of the horrible tower; whereat without a word I gazed into the faces of my sons. I wept not, I within so turned to stone; They wept; and darling little Anselm mine Said: ‘Thou dost gaze so, father, what doth ail thee?’
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.