The Divine Comedy. Данте Алигьери

pillage, and the flames,

      His substance. Slayers, and each one that smites

      In malice, plund'rers, and all robbers, hence

      The torment undergo of the first round

      In different herds. Man can do violence

      To himself and his own blessings: and for this

      He in the second round must aye deplore

      With unavailing penitence his crime,

      Whoe'er deprives himself of life and light,

      In reckless lavishment his talent wastes,

      And sorrows there where he should dwell in joy.

      To God may force be offer'd, in the heart

      Denying and blaspheming his high power,

      And nature with her kindly law contemning.

      And thence the inmost round marks with its seal

      Sodom and Cahors, and all such as speak

      Contemptuously of the Godhead in their hearts.

      “Fraud, that in every conscience leaves a sting,

      May be by man employ'd on one, whose trust

      He wins, or on another who withholds

      Strict confidence. Seems as the latter way

      Broke but the bond of love which Nature makes.

      Whence in the second circle have their nest

      Dissimulation, witchcraft, flatteries,

      Theft, falsehood, simony, all who seduce

      To lust, or set their honesty at pawn,

      With such vile scum as these. The other way

      Forgets both Nature's general love, and that

      Which thereto added afterwards gives birth

      To special faith. Whence in the lesser circle,

      Point of the universe, dread seat of Dis,

      The traitor is eternally consum'd.”

      I thus: “Instructor, clearly thy discourse

      Proceeds, distinguishing the hideous chasm

      And its inhabitants with skill exact.

      But tell me this: they of the dull, fat pool,

      Whom the rain beats, or whom the tempest drives,

      Or who with tongues so fierce conflicting meet,

      Wherefore within the city fire-illum'd

      Are not these punish'd, if God's wrath be on them?

      And if it be not, wherefore in such guise

      Are they condemned?” He answer thus return'd:

      “Wherefore in dotage wanders thus thy mind,

      Not so accustom'd? or what other thoughts

      Possess it? Dwell not in thy memory

      The words, wherein thy ethic page describes

      Three dispositions adverse to Heav'n's will,

      Incont'nence, malice, and mad brutishness,

      And how incontinence the least offends

      God, and least guilt incurs? If well thou note

      This judgment, and remember who they are,

      Without these walls to vain repentance doom'd,

      Thou shalt discern why they apart are plac'd

      From these fell spirits, and less wreakful pours

      Justice divine on them its vengeance down.”

      “O Sun! who healest all imperfect sight,

      Thou so content'st me, when thou solv'st my doubt,

      That ignorance not less than knowledge charms.

      Yet somewhat turn thee back,” I in these words

      Continu'd, “where thou saidst, that usury

      Offends celestial Goodness; and this knot

      Perplex'd unravel.” He thus made reply:

      “Philosophy, to an attentive ear,

      Clearly points out, not in one part alone,

      How imitative nature takes her course

      From the celestial mind and from its art:

      And where her laws the Stagyrite unfolds,

      Not many leaves scann'd o'er, observing well

      Thou shalt discover, that your art on her

      Obsequious follows, as the learner treads

      In his instructor's step, so that your art

      Deserves the name of second in descent

      From God. These two, if thou recall to mind

      Creation's holy book, from the beginning

      Were the right source of life and excellence

      To human kind. But in another path

      The usurer walks; and Nature in herself

      And in her follower thus he sets at nought,

      Placing elsewhere his hope. But follow now

      My steps on forward journey bent; for now

      The Pisces play with undulating glance

      Along the horizon, and the Wain lies all

      O'er the north-west; and onward there a space

      Is our steep passage down the rocky height.”

      Canto XII

      The place where to descend the precipice

      We came, was rough as Alp, and on its verge

      Such object lay, as every eye would shun.

      As is that ruin, which Adice's stream

      On this side Trento struck, should'ring the wave,

      Or loos'd by earthquake or for lack of prop;

      For from the mountain's summit, whence it mov'd

      To the low level, so the headlong rock

      Is shiver'd, that some passage it might give

      To him who from above would pass; e'en such

      Into the chasm was that descent: and there

      At point of the disparted ridge lay stretch'd

      The infamy of Crete, detested brood

      Of the feign'd heifer: and at sight of us

      It gnaw'd itself, as one with rage distract.

      To him my guide exclaim'd: “Perchance thou deem'st

      The King of Athens here, who, in the world

      Above, thy death contriv'd. Monster! avaunt!

      He comes not tutor'd by thy sister's art,

      But to behold your torments is he come.”

      Like to a bull, that with impetuous spring

      Darts, at the moment when the fatal blow

      Hath struck him, but unable to proceed

      Plunges on either side; so saw I plunge

      The Minotaur; whereat the sage exclaim'd:

      “Run to the passage! while he storms, 't is well

      That thou descend.” Thus down our road we took

      Through those dilapidated crags, that oft

      Mov'd underneath my feet, to weight like theirs

      Unus'd. I pond'ring went, and thus he spake:

      “Perhaps thy thoughts