The vision of hell. Dante Alighieri

When all unwares is gone, he inwardly

       Mourns with heart-griping anguish; such was I,

       Haunted by that fell beast, never at peace,

       Who coming o'er against me, by degrees

       Impell'd me where the sun in silence rests.

       While to the lower space with backward step

       I fell, my ken discern'd the form one of one,

       Whose voice seem'd faint through long disuse of speech.

       When him in that great desert I espied,

       "Have mercy on me!" cried I out aloud,

       "Spirit! or living man! what e'er thou be!"

       He answer'd: "Now not man, man once I was,

       And born of Lombard parents, Mantuana both

       By country, when the power of Julius yet

       Was scarcely firm. At Rome my life was past

       Beneath the mild Augustus, in the time

       Of fabled deities and false. A bard

       Was I, and made Anchises' upright son

       The subject of my song, who came from Troy,

       When the flames prey'd on Ilium's haughty towers.

       But thou, say wherefore to such perils past

       Return'st thou? wherefore not this pleasant mount

       Ascendest, cause and source of all delight?"

       "And art thou then that Virgil, that well-spring,

       From which such copious floods of eloquence

       Have issued?" I with front abash'd replied.

       "Glory and light of all the tuneful train!

       May it avail me that I long with zeal

       Have sought thy volume, and with love immense

       Have conn'd it o'er. My master thou and guide!

       Thou he from whom alone I have deriv'd

       That style, which for its beauty into fame

       Exalts me. See the beast, from whom I fled.

       O save me from her, thou illustrious sage!

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       "For every vein and pulse throughout my frame

       She hath made tremble." He, soon as he saw

       That I was weeping, answer'd, "Thou must needs

       Another way pursue, if thou wouldst 'scape

       From out that savage wilderness. This beast,

       At whom thou criest, her way will suffer none

       To pass, and no less hindrance makes than death:

       So bad and so accursed in her kind,

       That never sated is her ravenous will,

       Still after food more craving than before.

       To many an animal in wedlock vile

       She fastens, and shall yet to many more,

       Until that greyhound come, who shall destroy

       Her with sharp pain. He will not life support

       By earth nor its base metals, but by love,

       Wisdom, and virtue, and his land shall be

       The land 'twixt either Feltro. In his might

       Shall safety to Italia's plains arise,

       For whose fair realm, Camilla, virgin pure,

       Nisus, Euryalus, and Turnus fell.

       He with incessant chase through every town

       Shall worry, until he to hell at length

       Restore her, thence by envy first let loose.

       I for thy profit pond'ring now devise,

       That thou mayst follow me, and I thy guide

       Will lead thee hence through an eternal space,

       Where thou shalt hear despairing shrieks, and see

       Spirits of old tormented, who invoke

       A second death; and those next view, who dwell

       Content in fire, for that they hope to come,

       Whene'er the time may be, among the blest,

       Into whose regions if thou then desire

       T' ascend, a spirit worthier than I

       Must lead thee, in whose charge, when I depart,

       Thou shalt be left: for that Almighty King,

       Who reigns above, a rebel to his law,

       Adjudges me, and therefore hath decreed,

       That to his city none through me should come.

       He in all parts hath sway; there rules, there holds

       His citadel and throne. O happy those,

       Whom there he chooses!" I to him in few:

       "Bard! by that God, whom thou didst not adore,

       I do beseech thee (that this ill and worse

       I may escape) to lead me, where thou saidst,

       That I Saint Peter's gate may view, and those

       Who as thou tell'st, are in such dismal plight."

       Onward he mov'd, I close his steps pursu'd.

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CANTO II

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       NOW was the day departing, and the air,

       Imbrown'd with shadows, from their toils releas'd

       All animals on earth; and I alone

       Prepar'd myself the conflict to sustain,

       Both of sad pity, and that perilous road,

       Which my unerring memory shall retrace.

       O Muses! O high genius! now vouchsafe

       Your aid! O mind! that all I saw hast kept

       Safe in a written record, here thy worth

       And eminent endowments come to proof.

       I thus began: "Bard! thou who art my guide,

       Consider well, if virtue be in me

       Sufficient, ere to this high enterprise

       Thou trust me. Thou hast told that Silvius' sire,

       Yet cloth'd in corruptible flesh, among

       Th' immortal tribes had entrance, and was there

       Sensible present. Yet if heaven's great Lord,

       Almighty foe to ill, such favour shew'd,

       In contemplation of the high effect,