The Divine Comedy (Illustrated Edition). Dante Alighieri

crew. When that great worm1

      Descried us, savage Cerberus, he op’d

      His jaws, and the fangs show’d us; not a limb

      Of him but trembled. Then my guide, his palms

      Expanding on the ground, thence filled with earth

      Rais’d them, and cast it in his ravenous maw.

      E’en as a dog, that yelling bays for food

      His keeper, when the morsel comes, lets fall

      His fury, bent alone with eager haste

      To swallow it; so dropp’d the loathsome cheeks

      Of demon Cerberus, who thund’ring stuns

      The spirits, that they for deafness wish in vain.

      We, o’er the shades thrown prostrate by the brunt

      Of the heavy tempest passing, set our feet

      Upon their emptiness, that substance seem’d.

      They all along the earth extended lay

      Save one, that sudden rais’d himself to sit,

      Soon as that way he saw us pass. “O thou!”

      He cried, “who through the infernal shades art led,

      Own, if again thou know’st me. Thou wast fram’d

      Or ere my frame was broken.” I replied:

      “The anguish thou endur’st perchance so takes

      Thy form from my remembrance, that it seems

      As if I saw thee never. But inform

      Me who thou art, that in a place so sad

      Art set, and in such torment, that although

      Other be greater, more disgustful none

      Can be imagin’d.” He in answer thus:

      “Thy city heap’d with envy to the brim,

      Ay that the measure overflows its bounds,

      Held me in brighter days. Ye citizens

Were wont to name me Ciacco.2 For the sin

      Of glutt’ny, damned vice, beneath this rain,

      E’en as thou see’st, I with fatigue am worn;

      Nor I sole spirit in this woe: all these

      Have by like crime incurr’d like punishment.”

      No more he said, and I my speech resum’d:

      “Ciacco! thy dire affliction grieves me much,

      Even to tears. But tell me, if thou know’st,

      What shall at length befall the citizens

Of the divided city;3 whether any just one

      Inhabit there: and tell me of the cause,

      Whence jarring discord hath assail’d it thus?”

      He then: “After long striving they will come

To blood; and the wild party from the woods4

Will chase the other5 with much injury forth.

Then it behoves, that this must fall,6 within

Three solar circles;7 and the other rise

      By borrow’d force of one, who under shore

Now rests.8 It shall a long space hold aloof

      Its forehead, keeping under heavy weight

      The other oppress’d, indignant at the load,

And grieving sore. The just are two in number,9

      But they neglected. Av’rice, envy, pride,

      Three fatal sparks, have set the hearts of all

      On fire.” Here ceas’d the lamentable sound;

      And I continu’d thus: “Still would I learn

      More from thee, farther parley still entreat.

Of Farinata and Tegghiaio10 say,

They who so well deserv’d, of Giacopo,11

Arrigo, Mosca,12 and the rest, who bent

      Their minds on working good. Oh! tell me where

      They bide, and to their knowledge let me come.

      For I am press’d with keen desire to hear,

      If heaven’s sweet cup or poisonous drug of hell

      Be to their lip assign’d.” He answer’d straight:

      “These are yet blacker spirits. Various crimes

      Have sunk them deeper in the dark abyss.

      If thou so far descendest, thou mayst see them.

      But to the pleasant world when thou return’st,

      Of me make mention, I entreat thee, there.

      No more I tell thee, answer thee no more.”

      This said, his fixed eyes he turn’d askance,

      A little ey’d me, then bent down his head,

      And ’midst his blind companions with it fell.

      When thus my guide: “No more his bed he leaves,

      Ere the last angel-trumpet blow. The Power

      Adverse to these shall then in glory come,

      Each one forthwith to his sad tomb repair,

      Resume his fleshly vesture and his form,

      And hear the eternal doom re-echoing rend

      The vault.” So pass’d we through that mixture foul

      Of spirits and rain, with tardy steps; meanwhile

      Touching, though slightly, on the life to come.

      For thus I question’d: “Shall these tortures, Sir!

      When the great sentence passes, be increas’d,

      Or mitigated, or as now severe?”

      He then: “Consult thy knowledge; that decides

      That as each thing to more perfection grows,

      It feels more sensibly