The Divine Comedy (Illustrated Edition). Dante Alighieri

for having supposed that the angel attributes this exploit to Hercules, a fabulous hero, rather than to our Saviour, It would seem as if the good father had forgotten that Cerberus is himself no less a creature of the imagination than the hero who encountered him.

5 “The plains of Arles.” In Provence. These sepulchres are mentioned in the Life of Charlemagne, which has been attributed to Archbishop Turpin, cap. 28, and 30, and by Fazio degli Uberti, Dittamondo, L. iv. cap. xxi.

6 “At Pola.” A city of Istria, situated near the gulf of Quarnaro, in the Adriatic Sea.

      Canto X

       Table of Contents

      ARGUMENT.—Dante, having obtained permission from his guide, holds discourse with Farinata degli Uberti and Cavalcante Cavalcanti, who lie in their fiery tombs that are yet open, and not to be closed up till after the last judgment. Farinata predicts the Poet’s exile from Florence; and shows him that the condemned have knowledge of future things, but are ignorant of what is at present passing, unless it be revealed by some newcomer from earth.

      NOW by a secret pathway we proceed,

      Between the walls, that hem the region round,

      And the tormented souls: my master first,

      I close behind his steps. “Virtue supreme!”

      I thus began; “who through these ample orbs

      In circuit lead’st me, even as thou will’st,

      Speak thou, and satisfy my wish. May those,

      Who lie within these sepulchres, be seen?

      Already all the lids are rais’d, and none

      O’er them keeps watch.” He thus in answer spake

      “They shall be closed all, what-time they here

From Josaphat1 return’d shall come, and bring

      Their bodies, which above they now have left.

      The cemetery on this part obtain

      With Epicurus all his followers,

      Who with the body make the spirit die.

      Here therefore satisfaction shall be soon

Both to the question ask’d, and to the wish,2

      Which thou conceal’st in silence.” I replied:

      “I keep not, guide belov’d! from thee my heart

      Secreted, but to shun vain length of words,

      A lesson erewhile taught me by thyself.”

      “O Tuscan! thou who through the city of fire

      Alive art passing, so discreet of speech!

      Here please thee stay awhile. Thy utterance

      Declares the place of thy nativity

      To be that noble land, with which perchance

      I too severely dealt.” Sudden that sound

      Forth issu’d from a vault, whereat in fear

      I somewhat closer to my leader’s side

      Approaching, he thus spake: “What dost thou? Turn.

Lo, Farinata,3 there! who hath himself

      Uplifted: from his girdle upwards all

      Expos’d behold him.” On his face was mine

      Already fix’d; his breast and forehead there

      Erecting, seem’d as in high scorn he held

      E’en hell. Between the sepulchres to him

      My guide thrust me with fearless hands and prompt,

      This warning added: “See thy words be clear!”

      He, soon as there I stood at the tomb’s foot,

      Ey’d me a space, then in disdainful mood

      Address’d me: “Say, what ancestors were thine?”

      I, willing to obey him, straight reveal’d

      The whole, nor kept back aught: whence he, his brow

      Somewhat uplifting, cried: “Fiercely were they

      Adverse to me, my party, and the blood

From whence I sprang: twice4 therefore I abroad

      Scatter’d them.” “Though driv’n out, yet they each time

      From all parts,” answer’d I, “return’d; an art

      Which yours have shown, they are not skill’d to learn.”

      Then, peering forth from the unclosed jaw,

Rose from his side a shade,5 high as the chin,

      Leaning, methought, upon its knees uprais’d.

      It look’d around, as eager to explore

      If there were other with me; but perceiving

      That fond imagination quench’d, with tears

      Thus spake: “If thou through this blind prison go’st.

      Led by thy lofty genius and profound,

Where is my son?6 and wherefore not with thee?”

      I straight replied: “Not of myself I come,

      By him, who there expects me, through this clime

      Conducted, whom perchance Guido thy son

Had in contempt.”7 Already had his words

      And mode of punishment read me his name,

      Whence I so fully answer’d. He at once

      Exclaim’d, up starting, “How! said’st thou he HAD?

      No longer lives he? Strikes not on his eye

      The blessed daylight?” Then of some delay

      I made ere my reply aware, down fell

      Supine, not after forth appear’d he more.

      Meanwhile the other, great of soul, near whom

      I yet was station’d, chang’d not count’nance stern,

      Nor mov’d the neck, nor bent his ribbed side.

      “And if,” continuing the first discourse,

      “They in this art,” he cried, “small skill have shown,

      That doth torment me more e’en than this bed.

But not