Divine Comedy: Inferno | Page 5

thou so deeply wouldst inquire,?I will instruct thee briefly, why no dread?Hinders my entrance here. Those things alone?Are to be fear'd, whence evil may proceed,?None else, for none are terrible beside.?I am so fram'd by God, thanks to his grace!?That any suff'rance of your misery?Touches me not, nor flame of that fierce fire?Assails me. In high heaven a blessed dame?Besides, who mourns with such effectual grief?That hindrance, which I send thee to remove,?That God's stern judgment to her will inclines.?To Lucia calling, her she thus bespake:?"Now doth thy faithful servant need thy aid?And I commend him to thee." At her word?Sped Lucia, of all cruelty the foe,?And coming to the place, where I abode?Seated with Rachel, her of ancient days,?She thus address'd me: "Thou true praise of God!?Beatrice! why is not thy succour lent?To him, who so much lov'd thee, as to leave?For thy sake all the multitude admires??Dost thou not hear how pitiful his wail,?Nor mark the death, which in the torrent flood,?Swoln mightier than a sea, him struggling holds?"?Ne'er among men did any with such speed?Haste to their profit, flee from their annoy,?As when these words were spoken, I came here,?Down from my blessed seat, trusting the force?Of thy pure eloquence, which thee, and all?Who well have mark'd it, into honour brings."
"When she had ended, her bright beaming eyes?Tearful she turn'd aside; whereat I felt?Redoubled zeal to serve thee. As she will'd,?Thus am I come: I sav'd thee from the beast,?Who thy near way across the goodly mount?Prevented. What is this comes o'er thee then??Why, why dost thou hang back? why in thy breast?Harbour vile fear? why hast not courage there?And noble daring? Since three maids so blest?Thy safety plan, e'en in the court of heaven;?And so much certain good my words forebode."
As florets, by the frosty air of night?Bent down and clos'd, when day has blanch'd their leaves,?Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems;?So was my fainting vigour new restor'd,?And to my heart such kindly courage ran,?That I as one undaunted soon replied:?"O full of pity she, who undertook?My succour! and thou kind who didst perform?So soon her true behest! With such desire?Thou hast dispos'd me to renew my voyage,?That my first purpose fully is resum'd.?Lead on: one only will is in us both.?Thou art my guide, my master thou, and lord."
So spake I; and when he had onward mov'd,?I enter'd on the deep and woody way.
CANTO III
"THROUGH me you pass into the city of woe:?Through me you pass into eternal pain:?Through me among the people lost for aye.?Justice the founder of my fabric mov'd:?To rear me was the task of power divine,?Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.?Before me things create were none, save things?Eternal, and eternal I endure.?All hope abandon ye who enter here."
Such characters in colour dim I mark'd?Over a portal's lofty arch inscrib'd:?Whereat I thus: "Master, these words import?Hard meaning." He as one prepar'd replied:?"Here thou must all distrust behind thee leave;?Here be vile fear extinguish'd. We are come?Where I have told thee we shall see the souls?To misery doom'd, who intellectual good?Have lost." And when his hand he had stretch'd forth?To mine, with pleasant looks, whence I was cheer'd,?Into that secret place he led me on.
Here sighs with lamentations and loud moans?Resounded through the air pierc'd by no star,?That e'en I wept at entering. Various tongues,?Horrible languages, outcries of woe,?Accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse,?With hands together smote that swell'd the sounds,?Made up a tumult, that for ever whirls?Round through that air with solid darkness stain'd,?Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies.
I then, with error yet encompass'd, cried:?"O master! What is this I hear? What race?Are these, who seem so overcome with woe?"
He thus to me: "This miserable fate?Suffer the wretched souls of those, who liv'd?Without or praise or blame, with that ill band?Of angels mix'd, who nor rebellious prov'd?Nor yet were true to God, but for themselves?Were only. From his bounds Heaven drove them forth,?Not to impair his lustre, nor the depth?Of Hell receives them, lest th' accursed tribe?Should glory thence with exultation vain."
I then: "Master! what doth aggrieve them thus,?That they lament so loud?" He straight replied:?"That will I tell thee briefly. These of death?No hope may entertain: and their blind life?So meanly passes, that all other lots?They envy. Fame of them the world hath none,?Nor suffers; mercy and justice scorn them both.?Speak not of them, but look, and pass them by."
And I, who straightway look'd, beheld a flag,?Which whirling ran around so rapidly,?That it no pause obtain'd: and following came?Such a long train of spirits, I should ne'er?Have thought, that death so many had despoil'd.
When some of these I recogniz'd, I saw?And knew the shade of him, who to base fear?Yielding, abjur'd his high estate. Forthwith?I understood for certain this the tribe?Of those ill spirits both to God