Bản tiếng Anh

Love of our native city touched my heart:
         I bent and gathered up the scattered sprigs
         And gave them back to him whose voice grew faint.
 
         From there we reached the border that divided
5        The second from the third ring — and there
         I witnessed the horrendous art of justice.
 
         To make these unfamiliar sights quite clear,
         I say that we had come out on a plain
         Which banishes all verdure from its bed.
 
10       The grief-stricken wood enwreathed it all
         Around, as the sad ditch surrounds the wood.
         Here, right at the edge, we checked our steps.
 
         Dry and dense sand covered the ground’s surface,
         A sand no different in its texture from
15       That the feet of Cato once trampled on.
 
         O vengeance of God, how much you ought to be
         Held in fear by everyone who reads
         The things that were revealed before my eyes!
 
         I saw myriad flocks of naked souls,
20       All weeping wretchedly, and it appeared
         That separate sentences were meted to them.
 
         Flat on their backs, some spread out on the ground;
         Some squatted down, all hunched up in a crouch;
         And others walked about interminably.
 
25       More numerous were those who roamed around;
         Fewer were those stretched out for the torture,
         But looser were their tongues to tell their hurt.
 
         Over all the sand, large flakes of flame,
         Falling slowly, came floating down, wafted
30       Like snow without a wind up in the mountains.
 
         Just like the flames which Alexander saw
         In the torrid regions of India
         Swarming to the ground upon his legions,
 
         So that he had his troops tramp down the soil,
35       The better to put out the flaming flakes
         And to prevent them spreading other fires,
 
         So descended the everlasting blaze
         By which the sand enkindled, just like tinder
         Under sparks from flint — doubling the pain.
 
40       Restlessly the dance of wretched hands
         Went on and on, on this side and on that,
         Beating off the freshly falling flames.
 
         I began, "Master, you can win out over
         Everything — except the arrogant demons
45       That sortied against us at the entrance gate —
 
         "Who is that giant who appears to ignore
         The fire, lying so scornful and scowling
         That the rain seems not to make him soften?"
 
         And that same wraith, when he observed how I
50       Questioned my guide about him, shouted out,
         "What I was alive, I am the same dead!
 
         "Though Jupiter wear out the smith from whom
         He seized in wrath the sharpened thunderbolt
         Which on my last day was to strike me down,
 
55       "Though he wear out the others, one by one,
         Serving at Mongibello’s soot-black forge —
         As he bellows, ‘Good Vulcan, help me! help me!’
 
         "The way he did on the battlefield at Phlegra —
         Though with his whole force he flash out at me,
60       Yet he will never have his fond revenge."
 
         My guide shot back at him so strongly that
         I had not heard him use such force before,
         "O Capaneus, since your insolent pride
 
         "Is still unquenched, you are chastised the more:
65       No torture other than your own mad ravings
         Can punish you enough for your grim rage."
 
         Then with a gentler look he turned to me,
         Saying, "That was one of the seven kings
         Who laid siege to Thebes; he held and seems
 
70       "To hold God in disdain and prize him little;
         But, as I told you, these affronts of his
         Are the right decorations for his chest.
 
         "Now follow me and watch you do not ever
         Set your feet upon the scorching sand,
75       But always keep them back close to the trees."
 
         In silence we next reached a spot where gushed
         Out of the wood a small and narrow brook
         Whose redness makes me still shudder with fear.
 
         As from the Bulicame flows a stream
80       Which prostitutes then share for their own use,
         So too these waters coursed across the sand.
 
         Its bed and both its banks were made of stone,
         As were the borders all along its sides,
         So that I saw our passage lay that way.
 
85       "Of all the things that I have shown to you
         From the time we entered through the gate
         Whose threshold is prohibited to none,
 
         "Nothing your eyes have looked on up to now
         Is so worthy of note as the stream before you
90       That quenches all the flames above its path."
 
         These were the words my guide addressed to me.
         At this I begged him to give me the food
         For which he had whetted my appetite.
 
         "In the middle of the sea there lies a wasteland,"
95       He then declared to me; "it is called Crete,
         Under whose king the world had once been chaste.
 
         "A mountain rises there that long delighted
         In plants and water: Ida is its name;
         Now it is deserted like a withered thing.
 
100     "Rhea once chose it for the trusted cradle
         Of her son and, the better to hide him,
         When he would cry she made her servants shout.
 
         "Within the mountain stands a huge Old Man
         Straight up, his back turned to Damietta;
105      He gazes at Rome as if into a mirror.
 
         "His head is molded out of refined gold;
         His arms and breast are fashioned in pure silver;
         Then he is made of brass down to his crotch.
 
         "From there on downward he is all choice iron,
110     Except that his right foot is hard-baked clay,
         And this foot he favors over the other.
 
         "But for the gold, all the parts are cracked
         By a fissure from which the tears drip out
         That, when collected, penetrate the chasm.
 
115     "The tears run from the rocks into the valley,
         Forming Acheron, Styx, and Phlegethon,
         Then take their course through the narrow sluice,
 
         "And, at the point where there is no way down,
         They form Cocytus; and what that pool is like
120     You shall see — I will not describe it here."
 
         And I responded, "If this rivulet
         Pours down in this way from our upper world,
         Why do we view it only at this fringe?"
 
         And he replied, "You know this place is round,
125      And, although you have traveled a good distance
         Bearing ever to the left toward the bottom,
 
         "You have not even yet turned a full circle.
         So then if something new appears to us,
         It should not bring such wonder to your looks."
 
130     And I again: "Master, where shall we find
         Phlegethon and Lethe? One you omit,
         The other you say is formed by tears of rain."
 
         "In all your questions truly you please me,"
         He answered; "but the boiling blood-red water
135      Surely should have solved one you have asked.
 
         "Lethe you will see — but beyond this chasm —
There where the souls alight to cleanse themselves
When their repented sins are wiped away."
         Then he told me, "Now it is time to leave
140      This wood. See that you walk in back of me:
         The margins form a path that does not burn,
 
         "And all the flames above them are snuffed out."

Nessus had not yet reached the other bank
         When we on this side moved into a wood
         That was not marked at all by any path:
 
         No leaves of green but of a blackish color,
5        No branches smooth but gnarled and tangled up,
         No fruits were growing, only thorns of poison.
 
         No wild beasts, shunning the furrowed farmlands
         Between Cecina and Corneto, burrow
         Underbrush that is so thick and barbed.
 
10       Inside here nest the repugnant Harpies
         Who chased the Trojans from the Strophades
         With foul prophecies of coming losses.
 
         They have wide wings, human necks and faces,
         Feet with claws, and big feathered bellies;
15       They shriek laments from up in the strange trees.
 
         "Before you enter farther," my kind master
         Began saying to me, "know you are here
         Within the second circle and will remain
 
         "Until you come out to the dreadful sand.
20       Look carefully, then, and you shall witness things
         That would destroy your faith in words of mine."
 
         I heard deep wailings rising from all sides,
         Without discerning anyone who made them,
         So that, completely baffled, I stopped short.
 
25       I think he thought that I was thinking that
         All of the voices from among the trunks
         Rose up from people who were hiding from us.
 
         My master said to me, "If you tear off
         A tiny twig from one of the growths here,
30       Your thoughts will also be nipped in the bud."
 
         Then reaching out my hand a bit ahead,
         I snapped a shoot off from a massive thornbush,
         And the trunk of it cried, "Why do you break me?"
 
         And after it had darkened with its blood,
35       It started up again, "Why do you rip me?
         Do you possess no pity in your soul?
 
         "Men we were and now we are mere stumps.
         Surely your hand ought to have been kinder
         Even if we had been the souls of serpents."
 
40       Just as a green log blazing at one end
         Oozes sap out of the other, all the while
         Hissing with the air that it blows out,
 
         So from that broken bough issued together
         Words and blood: at that I let the tip
45       Fall, standing like a man stricken with fear.
 
         To him my sage responded, "Wounded spirit,
         Had he been able to believe before
         What he had witnessed only in my verses,
 
         "He would not have raised his hand against you.
50       But so incredible a thing caused me
         To urge him to an act I now regret.
 
         "But tell him who you were, to make amends
         By refreshing your fame in the world above
         To which he is permitted to return."
 
55       And the trunk: "Your sweet words so attract me
         I cannot remain still, and be not loath
         If I become caught up in conversation.
 
         "I am the one who held both of the keys
         To Frederick's heart, and I turned them so,
60       Locking and unlocking, with such smoothness
 
         "That I kept his secrets almost from all men.
         I stayed so faithful to my glorious office
         That for its sake I lost both sleep and strength.
 
         "The jealous whore who never turns away
65       Her sluttish eyes from Caesar's palaces,
         The deadly plague and common vice of courts,
 
         "Inflamed the minds of all the rest against me,
         And those inflamed then so inflamed Augustus,
         That happy honors turned to tristful woes.
 
70      "My mind, because of its disdainful bent
         Believing it would flee disdain by dying,
         Made me unjust against my own just self.
 
         "By the fresh roots of this tree here I swear
         To you that never once did I break faith
75       With my lord who was worthy of such honor.
 
         "And should one of you return to the world,
         Bolster up my memory which still lies
         Flattened by the blow that envy gave it."
 
         Waiting a while, the poet next said to me,
80       "Since he is silent, do not lose the chance,
         But speak and ask him if you would hear more."
 
         To this I answered, "Do you ask him further
         Whatever you believe will satisfy me,
         For I cannot, such pity rends my heart."
 
85       So he began again, "That this man should
         Gladly perform what you request of him,
         Imprisoned spirit, may it yet please you
 
         "To tell us how the spirit is so bound
         Into these knots; and tell us if you can,
90       Are any ever freed from limbs like these?"
 
         At that the trunk puffed hard and afterward
         That breath was transformed to this speaking voice:
         "The answer I give you shall be concise.
 
         "Whenever the violent soul forsakes the flesh
95       From which it tore itself by its own roots,
         Minos assigns it to the seventh pit.
 
         "It plummets to the wood — no place is picked —
         But wherever fortune happens to have hurled it,
         There it sprouts up like a grain of spelt;
 
100     "It springs into a sapling and wild tree;
         The harpies, feeding on its foliage,
         Cause pain and then an outlet for the pain.
 
         "Like others we shall go to our shed bodies,
         But not to dress ourselves in them once more,
105     For it is wrong to own what you tossed off.
 
         "Here shall we haul them, and throughout the sad
         Wood forevermore shall our bodies hang,
         Each from the thornbush of its tortured shade."
 
         We both continued listening for the trunk,
110     Thinking it still might want to tell us more,
         When a loud uproar caught us by surprise,
 
         Just as a hunter is suddenly alarmed
         By the wild boar and chase — right at his post —
         Hearing the dogs bark and the branches crack.
.
115     And look! there on the left-hand side two wraiths,
         Naked and scratched, fleeing so frantically
         That they smashed all the bushes in the wood.
 
         The front one: "Now come quick, come quick, death!"
         The other, knowing himself out of the race,
120     Shouted, "Lano, your legs were not so nimble
 
         "When you jousted at the battle of Toppo!"
         And then, perhaps, from shortness of his breath,
         He crouched into a knot inside a thicket.
 
         In back of them the wood at once ran wild
125     With black bitches, ravenous and swift,
         Like greyhounds let loose from the leash.
 
         On the crouching shade they gripped their teeth
         And piece by piece they ripped him open-wide
         And then they carried off his wretched limbs.
 
130      Immediately my escort took my hand
         And led me forward to the bush that wept
         In vain laments through its bloody cuts:
 
         "O Jacopo da Sant' Andrea," it said,
         "What have you gained by making me your covert?
135     What blame have I for your own sinful life?"
 
         After my master had drawn up beside it,
         He asked, "Who were you who through many wounds
         Now breathe in blood your mournful speech to us?"
 
         And he told us, "O souls that have arrived
140      In time to see the dishonorable mangling
         Which here has torn my leaves away from me,
 
         "Gather them up at the foot of this sad bush.
         I was of the city that exchanged the Baptist
         For its first patron, Mars, for which reason
 
145     "He'll always make her regret it, with his art,
         And were it not that at the Arno's crossing
         There still remains some vestige of his statue,
 
         "Those citizens who later rebuilt the city
         Upon the ashes Attila left behind
150     Would have performed their labors without profit.
 
         "Of my own house I made myself a gallows."

The place where we had come to clamber down
         The bank was mountainous, and what was there
         So grim all eyes would turn away from it.
 
         Just like that rockslide on this side of Trent
5        That struck the flank of the Adige River —
         Either by an earthquake or erosion —
 
         Where, from the mountaintop it started down
         To the plain below, the boulders shattered so,
         For anyone above they formed a path,
 
10       Such was the downward course of that ravine;
         And at the brink over the broken chasm
         There lay outspread the infamy of Crete
 
         That was conceived within the bogus cow;
         And when he saw us, he bit into himself,
15       Like someone whom wrath tears up from inside.
 
         My clever guide cried out to him, "Perhaps
         You believe that this is the Duke of Athens
         Who in the upper world contrived your death?
 
         "Go off, you beast! this man does not approach
20       Instructed by your sister but comes here
         In order to observe your punishments."
 
         Just as the bull breaks loose right at that moment
         When he has been dealt the fatal blow
         And cannot run but jumps this way and that,
 
25       So I saw the Minotaur react —
         And my quick guide called out, "Run for the pass!
         While he's raging is our chance to get down!"
 
         And so we made our way down through the pile
         Of rocks which often slid beneath my feet
30       Because they were not used to holding weight.
 
         I pushed on, thinking, and he said, "You wonder,
         Perhaps, about that wreckage which is guarded
         By that bestial rage I just now quelled.
 
         "Now you should know that the other time
35       I journeyed here below to lower hell,
         These boulders as yet had not tumbled down:
 
         "But for certain, if I recall correctly,
         It was shortly before He came who took
         From Dis the great spoils of the topmost circle
 
40       "That this deep loathsome valley on all sides
         Trembled so, I thought the universe
         Felt love, because of which, as some believe,
 
         "The world has often been turned back to chaos.
         And at that instant this ancient rock split up,
45       Scattering like this, here and elsewhere.
 
         "But fasten your eyes below — down to the plain
         Where we approach a river of blood boiling
         Those who harm their neighbors by violence."
 
         O blind cupidity and rabid anger
50       Which so spur us ahead in our short life
         Only to steep us forever in such pain!
 
         I saw a broad ditch bent into a bow,
         As though holding the whole plain in its embrace,
         Just as my guide had explained it to me.
 
55       Between the ditch and the foot of the bank
         Centaurs came running single-file, armed
         With arrows as they hunted in the world.
 
         Seeing us descend, they all pulled up,
         And from their ranks three of them moved forward
60       With bows and with their newly selected shafts.
 
         And from afar one shouted, "To what tortures
         Do you approach as you climb down the slope?
         Answer from there, or else I draw my bow."
 
         My master said, "We will make our response
65       To Chiron there who hovers at your side —
         To your own harm, your will was always rash."
 
         Then he nudged me, and said, "That is Nessus,
         Who died for the lovely Dejanira
         By taking his own revenge upon himself;
 
70       "And in the middle, staring at his chest,
         Is mighty Chiron, who tutored Achilles;
         The last is Pholus, who was so full of frenzy."
 
         Thousands on thousands march around the ditch,
         Shooting at any soul that rises up
75       Above the blood more than its guilt allows.
 
         When we drew near to these fleet-footed beasts,
         Chiron took an arrow and with its notch
         Parted his shaggy beard back from his jaws,
 
         And when he had uncovered his huge mouth,
80       Said to his companions, "Have you noticed
         How that one there behind stirs what he touches?
 
         "A dead man's feet would not cause that to happen!"
         And my good guide, now standing at the chest
         Where the two natures fuse together, answered,
 
85       "He is indeed alive, and so alone
         That I must show him all the somber valley.
         Necessity not pleasure brings him here.
 
         "A spirit came from singing alleluia
         To commission me with this new office:
90       He is no robber nor I a thieving soul.
 
         "But by the power by which I move my steps
         Along this roadway through the wilderness,
         Lend us one of your band to keep by us
 
         "To lead us where we two can ford across
95       And there to carry this man on his back,
         For he is not a spirit who flies through air."
 
         Chiron pivoted around on his right breast,
         Saying to Nessus, "Go back and guide them — if
         Another troop challenges, drive them away!"
 
100     So with this trusted escort we moved on
         Along the bank of the bubbling crimson river
         Where boiling souls raised their piercing cries.
 
         There I saw people buried to their eyebrows,
         And the strong centaur said, "These are tyrants
105     Who wallowed in bloodshed and plundering.
 
         "Here they bewail their heartless crimes: here lie
         Both Alexander and fierce Dionysius
         Who brought long years of woe to Sicily;
 
         "And there with his head of jet-black hair
110      Is Azzolino; and that other blond one
         Is Opizzo d'Este, who in the world
 
         "Actually was slain by his own stepson."
         With that I turned to the poet, who said,
         "Now let him be your first guide, I your second."
 
115     A little farther on, the centaur halted
         Above some people who appeared to rise
         Out of the boiling stream up to their throats.
 
         He pointed to one shade off by himself,
         And said, "In God's own bosom, this one stabbed
120     The heart that still drips blood upon the Thames."
 
         Then I saw others too who held their heads
         And even their whole chests out of the stream,
         And many of them there I recognized.
 
         So the blood eventually thinned out
125     Until it scalded only their feet in it;
         And here we found a place to ford the ditch.
 
         "Just as you see, this side, the boiling brook
         Grow gradually shallower," the centaur said,
         "So I would also have you understand
 
130     "That on the other side the riverbed
         Slopes deeper down from here until it reaches
         Again the spot where tyranny must grieve.
 
         "Heavenly justice there strikes with its goads
         That Attila who was a scourge on earth
135     And Pyrrhus and Sextus, and forever milks
 
         "The tears, released by boiling blood from both
         Rinier of Corneto and Rinier Pazzo
         Who waged such open warfare on the highways."
 
         Then he turned back and once more crossed the ford.

On the ridgetop of a high embankment
         Shaped in a circle by huge broken rockfalls,
         We came above an even crueler fold:
 
         And here, because of the overwhelming stench
5        Which that bottomless abyss throws up,
         We recoiled — back behind the covering lid
 
         Of a large tomb where I saw inscribed
         These words: "I hold Pope Anastasius
         Whom Photinus lured from the straight path."
 
10       "We must delay our downward journey here
         So that our sense may gradually grow used
         To the foul gas-fumes; then we will not mind it."
 
         This my master said, and I replied,
         "Offset it somehow, so we may not lose
15       Our time." And he: "That is my thought exactly."
 
         "My son, within the boundary of these boulders,"
         He then began, — "are three smaller circles,
         From tier to tier, like those you leave behind.
 
         "All are crammed full of ill-stricken spirits —
20       But, that sheer sight later may suffice you,
         Listen to how and why they are held bound.
 
         "The aim of all malicious acts that merit
         Hatred in heaven is injustice: all such actions,
         By violence or by fraud, harm someone else.
 
25       "Since fraud, however, is man’s peculiar vice,
         It gives God more displeasure; the fraudulent, then,
         Lie lower down and more pain harries them.
 
         "The whole first circle is for the violent;
         But, as force is turned against three persons,
30       This first is fashioned in three separate rings.
 
         "On God, on self, and on one’s neighbor force
         Can turn: I mean, on them and on their goods,
         As you shall now hear logically set forth.
 
         "By violence come death and painful wounds
35       To one’s neighbor; and to his possessions
         Come hurtful wrecking, arson, and extortion.
 
         "So murderers, robbers, plunderers,
         And all who wrongly do bodily injury
         The first ring tortures in assorted ranks.
 
40       "A man may lay violent hands on himself
         And on his property: so in the second
         Ring each one must fruitlessly repent
 
         "Who wills to rob himself of your bright world,
         Gambles away or wastes his own belongings,
45       And grieves up there where he should rejoice.
 
         "Violence may be done against the Godhead
         By denial in the heart and blasphemy
         And by despising nature and her bounty.
 
         "And so the smallest ring has set its seal
50       On both Sodom and Cahors and all those
         Whose words betray their hearts’ contempt of God.
 
         "Fraud, that chews away at every conscience,
         A man may practice on one who trusts him
         Or on one who has no confidence in him.
 
55       "For those who trust not, only the link of love
         Which nature forges appears to be cut;
         Therefore, in the second circle nest
 
         "Hypocrites, flatterers, and sorcerers,
         Falsifiers, thieves, and simoniacs,
60       Panders, graft-takers, and all that trash.
 
         "For those who trust, both the love nature
         Forges is forgotten and the love
         Added to it that creates a special bond.
 
         "So, in the smallest circle, at the center
65       Of the universe and the seat of Dis,
         All traitors are eternally consumed."
 
         And I: "Master, the logic of your words
         Is crystal clear and well delineates
         The chasm and the people it contains.
 
70       "But tell me, those mired in the slimy marsh,
         Those the wind blasts and those the rain beats on
         And those that clash with such savage tongues,
 
         "Why aren’t they punished in the red-hot city
         If God holds them as well in his great wrath?
75       And if he does not, why are they in torment?"
 
         He said to me, "Why does your mind drift off
         So distantly from its accustomed pathway?
         Or do your thoughts now turn to other things?
 
80       "Do you not remember those passages
         In which your Ethics treats in full detail
         The three perversities opposed by heaven:
 
         "Incontinence, maliciousness, and raving
         Bestiality — and how incontinence,
         Offending God the least, incurs least blame?
 
85       "If you will study this teaching carefully
         And call to mind the people up above
         Who outside the city endure penances,
 
         "You’ll plainly see why they are set apart
         From these felons and why divine vengeance
90       Hammers at them there with lesser anger."
 
         "O sun that clears up every troubled vision,
         You so content me when you solve my doubts
         That doubting pleases me no less than knowing.
 
         "Once more go back a little to the point,"
95       I said, "where you state usury offends
         The divine goodness, and untie the knot."
 
         "Philosophy, to one who understands,
         Points out — and on more than one occasion —
         How nature gathers her entire course
 
100     "From divine intellect and divine art.
         And if you pore over your Physics closely,
         You’ll find, not many pages from the start,
 
         "That, when possible, your art follows nature
         As a pupil does his master; in effect,
105      Your art is like the grandchild of our God.
 
         "From art and nature, if you will recall
         The opening of Genesis, man is meant
         To earn his way and further humankind.
 
         "But still the usurer takes another way:
110      He scorns nature and her follower, art,
         Because he puts his hope in something else.
 
         "But follow me now since I want to go:
         For the Fish shimmer low on the horizon
         And all the Wain stretches over Caurus,
 
115     "And there, beyond, the road runs off the cliff."

Now, by a hidden passageway that wound
         Between the rack and ramparts of the city,
         My master travels and I after him.
 
         "O highest virtue who through these arrant rings
5         Lead me around as you please," I began,
         "Speak to me and satisfy my yearnings:
 
         "The people here who lie within the tombs,
         Can they be seen? Already all the lids
         Are raised off and no one is standing guard,"
 
10         And he responded, "They shall all be sealed
         When they come back here from Jehosaphat
         With the bodies that they have left up there.
 
         "In this section is found the cemetery
         Of Epicurus and his followers,
15       All those who claim the soul dies with the body.
 
         "So the question that you have put to me
         Soon shall be satisfied while we are here,
         As shall the wish that you have kept from me."
 
         And I: "Good guide, I do not hide my heart:
20       I only want now to have less to say
         As more than once before you prompted me."
 
         "O Tuscan, passing through the fiery city
         Alive and speaking with such frank decorum,
         Be kind enough to pause now in this place.
 
25       "Your way of talking makes it clear you come
         Of the stock born of that same noble city
         To which I was perhaps too troublesome."
 
         So suddenly had this sound issued from
         One of the coffins there that I trembled
30       And drew a little closer to my guide.
 
         "Turn around," he said. "What are you doing?
         Look here at Farinata straightening up!
         From waist high you will see the whole of him."
 
         I had already fixed my eyes on his
35       While he emerged with his forehead and chest,
         Looking as though he held hell in contempt.
 
         The quick, assuring hands of my leader
         Pushed me toward him between the sepulchers —
         He said, "Suit your words to the occasion."
 
40       When I had come up nearer to his tomb,
         He stared a moment and then, disdainfully,
         Questioned me, "Who were your ancestors?"
 
         I who was anxious to be dutiful
         Kept nothing back but told him everything.
45       At this he raised his brows ever so slightly,
 
         Then said, "They were so fiercely inimical
         To me and to my forebears and my party
         That twice I had to send them scampering."
 
         "Though they were driven out, yet from all sides
50       At both times they came back," I said to him;
         "But your men never really learned that art."
 
         At that there rose before my sight a shade
         Beside him — visible down to his chin —
         I guess he raised himself up on his knees.
 
55       He gazed all around me, as though intent
         To see if I were there with someone else,
         But when his hope had been completely dashed,
 
         Tearfully he said, "If you journey through
         This blind prison by reason of high genius,
60       Where is my son? Why is he not with you?"
 
         I answered, "I do not journey on my own:
         He who awaits there leads me through this place —
         Perhaps your Guido had felt scorn for him."
 
         His question and his form of punishment
65       Allowed me already to read his name;
         On that account, my answer was so full.
         Suddenly he stood and cried out, "How?
         You said ‘had felt’? Is he not still alive?
         Does not the lovely light still strike his eyes?"
 
70       And when he had observed my hesitation
         Before I answered him, he shrank back down
         And would not show his face to me again.
 
         That noble-hearted shade at whose request
         I’d halted my steps did not change his look
75

That color cowardice painted on my face,
When I had seen my leader turned around,
More quickly caused him to repress his pallor.

Attentive he halted, like a man listening,
Because his eyes could not lead him on farther
Through the blackening air and thickening fog.

"Yet we must overcome and win this fight —"
He began, "if not — so much offered us —
How long it seems before somebody comes!"

I saw quite clearly how he covered up
What he began to say with what then followed:
His last words were so different from his first.

Nevertheless, his speech made me afraid
Because I drew out from his broken phrases
A meaning worse perhaps than what they had.

"Down to the bottom of this sorry pit
Do any ever climb from the first level
Where the only punishment is severed hope?"

This question I put to him; he replied,
"Rarely it happens that any one of us
Makes the journey I am making now.

"True, once before I was here below,
Conjured by that heartless Erichtho
Who summoned shades back to their own bodies.

"Shortly after I’d been stripped of flesh
She made me enter inside that same wall
To draw a soul back from the zone of Judas.

"That place is the lowest and the darkest
And the farthest from all-encircling heaven.
I know the pathway well, so rest assured.

"The marshland that breathes out a monstrous stench
Girdles all about the tear-racked city
Where now we cannot enter without wrath."

And more he said, but it escapes my mind
For my eye had completely drawn me upward
To the high tower with the flame-tipped top

Where at one spot there straightaway stood up
Three infernal Furies stained with blood,
Their bodies and behavior that of women.

Their waists were cinctured with green hydras;
For hair they had horned snakes and poison adders
With which their savage temples were enwreathed.

And clearly recognizing the handmaidens
Of the Queen of unending mournfulness,
He said to me, "Look at the fierce Erinyes:

"That one there on the left is Megaera,
And on the right is Alecto, wailing;
Tisiphone is in the middle." He ceased.

With her nails each one tore at her own breasts,
Thrashed with her hands, and shouted out so loud
That in dread I drew closer to the poet.

"Bring on Medusa! We’ll turn him to stone!"
They all screeched out together, staring down;
"We ill revenged the raid of Theseus!"

"Turn your back now and keep your eyes shut tight,
For should the Gorgon come and you see her
You would not return to the world above."

So spoke my master. He himself turned me
Around and, not relying on my hands,
Covered my face as well with his own palms.

O you possessing sound intelligence,
Study well the doctrine which lies hidden
Under the veil of my unusual verse!

For now there came upon the muddy waves
A blasting sound, a fear-inspiring roar,
Causing both sides of the shore to tremble:

Not unlike the blast made by the wind,
Turbulent from changing temperatures,
Which strikes the forest and without check

Breaks and knocks down boughs, blows them away,
Sweeping on proudly with a cloud of dust
And chasing off shepherds and wild animals.

He freed my eyes and told me, "Now direct
Your eyesight straight into that ancient scum,
Right there to where the fog is hanging thickest."

Just as the frogs before their enemy
The snake all disappear into the water
Until each one squats down upon the bottom,

I saw more than a thousand wasted souls
Fleeing from the path of one who strode
Dry-shod above the waters of the Styx.

Often he brushed the foul air from his face,
Rhythmically moving his left hand out in front,
And only with that bother appeared weary.

Easily I knew that he was sent from heaven,
And I turned to my master, but he signaled
That I stay still and bow down there to him.

Ah how full of deep disdain he seemed to me!
He then approached the gate, and with a wand
He opened it without the least resistance.

"O outcasts from heaven, detested race,"
He now began upon the horrid threshold,
"Why is this insolence so settled in you?

"Why are you opponents to that Will
Which cannot be dissevered from its end
And which has often swelled your sufferings?

"What good is it to butt against the Fates?
Your Cerberus, as you should well recall,
For just that had his chin and gullet peeled!"

Then he turned back along the filthy road
Without a word to us, but with the look
Of someone pressed and spurred by other cares

Than those that lie right there in front of him.
And we walked on, straight forward to the city,
Through the safe-conduct of his sacred words.

Without a fight we went directly in,
And I, filled with a longing to find out
The state of those shut up within that fortress,

Once I was inside, cast my eyes around
And saw, on every side, a vast landscape
Rife with distress and wretched punishment.

Just as at Arles, where the Rhone is stagnant,
Just as at Pola, near Quarnero’s gulf
That closes Italy and bathes her borders,

The sarcophagi make all the ground uneven,
So did they here, lying every whichway,
Except that their condition was far worse.

For there among the tombs were scattered flames
That made them glow all over with more heat
Than any craftsman requires for his iron.

All of their open lids were lifted up,
And from inside such harsh laments escaped
As would come from the wretched and the injured.

And I: "Master, who are these people that,
Entombed within these chests of solid stone,
Make themselves felt by their distressful sighs?"

And he told me, "Here lie the arch-heretics
With their disciples, from all sects, and more
Than you’ll believe are loaded in these tombs.

"Like soul lies buried here encased with like;
Some monuments are hotter and some less."
And then he made a turn to the right hand:

We passed between the torments and high walls.

Moving on, I say that long before
We came to the base of that high tower
Our eyes were drawn up to its pinnacle

By two flares which we saw positioned there
While still a third responded to the signal
From so far off the eye could scarcely see it.

And I turned to that sea of all perception;
I asked, "What does this mean? What answer
Does the other make? And who is doing this?"

And he told me, "Above the filthy waves
Already you can sight what waits for us,
Unless the swamp’s thick vapors hide it from you."

Bowspring never fired off an arrow
That streamed through the air with such speed
As did the tiny dinghy that I spotted

Riding that moment toward us on the water,
A single boatman holding it on course.
He screamed, "Now you are caught, wicked soul!"

"Phlegyas, Phlegyas, you shout futilely,"
My lord replied; "this time your hold on us
Will last no longer than crossing on the mire."

And just as one who learns some huge deception
Has been played on him, grows to resent it,
So Phlegyas reacted, restraining his anger.

My guide then stepped down into the boat,
And next he made me enter after him:
Only when I was in did it seem weighted.

As soon as my guide and I embarked,
The ancient prow pushed off, ploughing down
Water more deeply than it does with others.

While we rode over the dead channel
Before me rose a figure smeared with mud
Who asked, "Who are you come before your time?"

And I told him, "I come, but do not stay.
But who are you who are made so ugly?"
He answered, "You see that I am one who weeps."

And I told him, "In weeping and in mourning,
Accursed spirit, there may you remain,
For, filthy as you are, I recognize you."

Then he stretched both his hands out to the boat.
At that my ready master shoved him off,
Saying, "Get away, with the other dogs!"

My guide then put his arms around my neck,
Kissed me, and said, "Soul of indignation,
Blessed is the woman who gave you birth!

"In the world he was a man of arrogance;
Nothing good bedecks his memory:
For that, his shade down here is furious.

"How many up there now think themselves kings
Who here shall wallow in the mud like pigs,
Bequeathing only loathsome disrepute."

And I said, "Master, eagerly would I like
To see that spirit soused within this soup
Before we take our leave of this morass."

And he told me, "Before the future shore
Comes into view, you shall be satisfied,
For it is right that your wish be fulfilled."

Shortly afterward I saw such a tearing
Of that shade by the slimy people there
That still I praise and thank God for it.

All shouted, "Get Filippo Argenti!"
And then the frenzied Florentine spirit
Turned on himself his own biting teeth.

We left him there; I tell no more about him.
But wailing, then, so pounded on my ear
That I intently strained my eyes ahead.

The kindly master said, "Now, my dear son,
The city known as Dis approaches near
With its grave citizens and mighty hosts."

And I: "Master, already I see clearly
There in the valley its mosques glowing
Bright red as if just lifted from the fire."

And he said to me, "The eternal flame,
Burning within, shows them rosy-red,
As you discern, here in this lower hell."

We arrived at last inside the deep ditch
Which moated round that melancholy city,
The walls appearing to me like cast iron.

After we had first made a great circuit,
We came to a spot where the boatman loudly
Cried, "Get out — this is the entry way!"

I saw above the gates more than a thousand
Of those poured out from heaven; they wrathfully
Called, "Who is this one who without dying

"Passes through the kingdom of the dead?"
Then my thoughtful master gave a signal
Of his wish to speak to them in confidence.

At that they barely checked their high disdain
And said, "You come along — let that one go
Who so boldly enters through this realm.

"Let him return alone on his fool’s path —
Try, if he can! For you are staying here
Who guided him into so dark a country."

Reflect, reader, how I lost my courage
When I heard them speak the awful curse,
For I did not think I ever would go back.

"O my dear guide who more than seven times
Brought me back to safety and who drew me
From the deep peril that stood in my way,

"Don’t let me be forsaken so!" I cried,
"And if we are denied to pass on further,
Quickly let us retrace our steps together."

And that lord who had led me to this spot
Said to me, "Have no fear; our passage here
No one can take from us: such is the Donor.

"But wait for me there, your weary spirit
Comforted and nourished with strong hope,
Since I won’t leave you in the lower world."

So he goes off and here abandons me,
My tender father; and I am kept in doubt
While yes and no battle in my brain.

I couldn’t hear what he proposed to them,
But he did not remain with them for long
When they all scrimmaged to get back inside.

These enemies of ours slammed the gate
In my lord’s face; he stood there left outside
And then turned back to me with slow slack steps.

Eyes fastened on the ground and brows shorn bare
Of any boldness, he murmured between sighs,
"Who has forbidden me the house of pain?"

But he informed me, "You — because I’m vexed —
Should not lose heart — I will win this contest
No matter what defense they try within.

"This arrogance of theirs is nothing new,
For once they showed it at a less secret gate
Which still is standing, in full view, unlocked.

"Above that gate you read the deadly writing,
And already, from this side and down the slope,
Passing through the circles without escort,
"Comes one by whom the city will be opened."

"Pape Satan, pape Satan, aleppe!"
Plutus started up with clacking voice,
And that kind sage, who comprehended all,

Spoke for my comfort, "Do not let your fear
Harm you: whatever power he possesses,
He cannot keep us from climbing down this crag."

Then he turned back to that puffed-up face
And said, "Plutus, be still, wretched wolf!
Feed on yourself with your own rabid rage.

"Not without cause we journey to the abyss.
It is so willed on high, there where Michael
Wreaked vengeance on that arrogant rebellion."

As sails billowed by the wind collapse
Into a tangled heap when the mainmast cracks,
So the ruthless beast fell to the ground.

At that we moved on down to the fourth crater,
Taking in more of that grief-stricken slope
Which stacks all the evil of the universe.

Ah, justice of God! Who has heaped up so many
Of the fresh trials and tortures that I saw?
Why does our guilt devour us like this?

Just like the wave, there over Charybdis,
Breaking itself against the wave it strikes,
So must the people here reel out their dance.

Here I saw more shades than I saw above,
On one side and the other, with piercing howls,
Rolling weights shoved forward with their chests.

They smashed against each other. On the spot,
Each whipped around and, rolling the weight back,
Yelled, "Why do you hoard?" or "Why do you splurge?"

With that they wheeled about the dismal circle
On either arc to the opposing point,
Screaming over again their scornful verses.

When they had reached the end of one half-circle,
Each turned around to face the following joust.
And I — my heart all but pierced by the sight —

Spoke up, "My master, now instruct me here.
Who are these people? Were they all clergy,
The tonsured ones there on the left-hand side?"

And he replied, "All these were so squint-eyed
Mentally, in the first life, that they
Were never even-handed in their spending:

"Their voices bark this truth out clearly
When they come to the two points of the circle
Where contrary guilts set them against each other.

"These were the clergy who have no crown of hair
On their heads, both popes and cardinals,
Within whom avarice runs to its extreme."

And I: "Master, among the likes of these
Surely I should recognize some souls
Who were befouled by these same misdeeds."

And he told me, "You entertain vain thoughts.
The imperceptive lives that dirtied them
Now blacken them beyond all perception.

"Forever they will come to double butt:
These men shall rise up from the sepulcher
With tight fists and those men, with shaven heads.

"Ill-giving and ill-keeping stole from them
The lovely world and put them to this strife.
I will not lose fair words describing it.

"Now you can see, my son, the brief foolery
Of the wealth which Fortune holds in trust —
For this the race of men rebuff each other.

"All the gold that lies beneath the moon
And all the gold of old can bring no rest
To a single one of all these wearied spirits."

"Master," I said to him, "now tell me more.
This Fortune whom you touch on with me here,
Who is she with the world’s wealth in her grip?"

And he replied, "O foolhardy creatures,
What immense ignorance trips you up!
Now I want you to absorb my teaching.

"The One whose wisdom transcends everything
Fashioned the heavens and to them gave his guides,
So that one pole shines out to the other,

"Apportioning, in equal measure, light.
In like manner, for splendors of the world,
He ordained a general minister and guide

"To shift around at times the empty wealth,
From country to country and from house to house,
Beyond the watchfulness of human judgment.

"And so one country rules, one languishes,
In obedience to the verdict that she gives,
Which is hidden like a snake in the grass.

"Your wisdom is unable to withstand her:
She ever foresees, judges, and purveys
Her kingdom as the other gods do theirs.

"Her changes never settle for a truce.
Necessity is that which makes her swift,
So rapidly men come to take their turns.

"She is the one so often crucified
Even by those who ought to sing her praises,
But with wrong, wicked voices they cast blame.

"She is blessed, however, and hears nothing.
Rejoicing with the other primal creatures,
She rolls her sphere and revels in her bliss.

"Now let us pass below to deeper pathos.
Already all the stars set that ascended
When I began; we can no longer tarry."

We crossed the circle to the further bank
Above a source that boils up and spills over
Into a gully cut out from its stream.

The water was far darker than black dye;
And we, escorted by the murky waves,
Started down on this strange passageway.

Into the marshland that is called the Styx
Flows this sad stream after running downward
To the base of these ruinous gray slopes.

And I, standing there to stare intently,
Saw in that morass people smeared with mud,
All naked, their faces lined with rage.

They beat each other not just with their hands
But even with their heads and chest and feet
And with their teeth ripped each other to pieces.

My own good master said, "Son, now you see
The souls of those whom anger overpowered.
I also want you to accept for certain

"That under the water there are people sighing
Who make the surface of the water bubble,
As your eye tells you whichever way it turns."

Mired in slime, they moan, "We were morose
In the sweet air made cheerful by the sun;
We bore within ourselves the torpid vapors:

"Now morbid we are made in this black mud."
This canticle they gurgle in their gullets
Since they can’t sound it with full syllables.

So we walked around the wide curving rim
Of that foul pool, between dry bank and bog,
With our eyes turned to those who swallow slime.

We arrived at last at the base of a tower.

Returning to the consciousness I'd lost
         In the pathos of those kindred lovers
         Whose plight completely baffled me with grief,
 
         I see new sufferings and new suffering souls
5         Surrounding me no matter where I walk,
         No matter where I turn or where I look.
 
         I am in the third circle, a place of rain
         Accursed, freezing, heavy, and unending:
         Its density and direction never change.
 
10       Huge hailstones, mucky sleet and snow
         Keep pouring down through the gloom-filled air
         So that the soil that sucks it in is putrid.
 
         Cerberus, that weird and vicious beast,
15       Howls like a mad-dog out of all three throats,
         Baying above the people wallowing here.
 
         His eyes are red, his beard is greasy black,
         His belly bloated and talon-sharp his hands:
         He claws the spirits, skins and splits them up.
 
         The downpour forces them to howl like hounds.
20       Making a shield of one flank, then the other,
         The impious wretches flip and flop about.
 
         When the fat worm Cerberus had seen us,
         He opened up his mouths and showed his fangs.
         He stood there quivering in every muscle.
 
25       Then my guide, reaching down his hands,
         Scooped up the earth and hurtled two fistfuls
         Straight into those three rapacious jaws.
 
         Just as a dog that barks when he is hungry,
         Then quiets down while gnawing on his food,
30       Struggling and straining just to swallow it,
 
         Such was the change in the filth-spattered faces
         Of the demon Cerberus thundering loudly
         Against the souls who wish that they were deaf.
 
         We tread upon the shadows beaten down
35       By the heavy rain, and we set our feet
         On emptiness that seems like solid bodies.
 
         All of them were stretched out on the ground
         Except for one who sat up straight as soon
         As he perceived us passing on before him.
 
40       "Oh you who are led onward through this hell,"
         He said to me, "see if you can place me:
         For you were made before I was unmade."
 
         And I told him, "The distress that you endure
         Perhaps has wiped you from my memory
45       So it appears that I have never seen you.
 
         "But tell me who you are who in so sad
         A place are plunged to suffer such a torture
         That, though worse exists, none's more repulsive."
 
         And he told me, "Your city, so crammed full
50       Of envy that already the sack spills over,
         Held me in its walls in the tranquil life.
 
         "You citizens had nicknamed me Ciacco.
         For the damnable sin of gluttony,
         As you can see, I am drubbed by this rain.
 
55       "And I, unhappy soul, am not alone,
         For all these souls bear the same punishment
         For the same sin." With that he said no more.
 
         I answered him, "Ciacco, this anguish of yours
         So weighs on me it summons me to tears.
60       But tell me, if you know, what shall become
 
         "Of the citizens of that divided city?
         Is anyone there just? Tell me too the reason
         Why so much discord has assaulted it?"
 
         And he replied, "After long contention
65       They shall come to blood, and the rural party
         Shall push the other out with strong offense.
 
         "Then that party itself is doomed to fall
         Within three years: the other will prevail
         By the might of one now straddling the middle.
 
70       "This party shall hold its head up high
         While keeping the other under heavy burdens,
         However much it moans and feels ashamed.
 
         "Two men are just, but no one minds them there:
         Pride, spitefulness, and avarice
75       Are three sparks that have fired up their hearts."
        
         Here his mournful words came to a close.
         I said to him, "More I would have you tell me
         And make me a present of still further speech.
 
         "Farinata and Tegghiaio, once so worthy,
80       Jacopo Rusticucci, Arrigo, Mosca,
         And others who put their talents to good use,
 
         "Tell me where they are and how to know them,
         For keen desire drives me on to learn
         Whether heaven heals or hell poisons them."
 
85       And he: "They are among the blackest souls:
         Different sins sink them to different pits.
         If you go down that far, there you will see them.
 
         "But when you have returned to the sweet world,
         I pray you to recall me to men's minds.
90       No more I say here and no more I answer."
 
         His straight eyes then he twisted to a squint;
         He studied me a moment, bent his head,
         And sank down with the others who are blind.
 
         And my guide said to me, "He wakens no more
95       Until resounds the trumpet of the angel
         When the hostile power of their Judge shall come.
 
         "Each one shall see again his woeful tomb,
         Shall once again don his own flesh and frame,
         Shall hear what blasts out to eternity."
 
100      So we passed on through that polluted mess
         Of shades and rainfall, our steps pacing slow,
         And touched a moment on the future life.
         
         At that I asked, "Master, these tormentings,
         Will they increase after the final judgment
105      Or lessen or be just as burning hot?"
 
         And he said to me, "Go back to your learning
         Which holds that when a thing is the more perfect
         The more it feels the grief as well as good.
 
         "Although these same detestable people
110      Never can arrive at true perfection,
         They can look to get closer then than now."
 
         The two of us walked on around that road,
         Talking about much more than I repeat.
         We came to the spot where the grade falls off.
 
115      There we found Plutus, the great enemy.

So I descended from the first circle
         Into the second, encompassing less space
         But sharper pain which spurs the wailing on.
 
         There Minos stands, hideous and growling,
5         Examining the sins of each newcomer:
         With coiling tail he judges and dispatches.
 
         I mean that, when the ill-begotten spirit
         Comes before him, that soul confesses all
And then this master-mind of sinfulness
 
10       Sees what place in hell has been assigned:
         The times he winds his tail around himself
         Reveal the level to which the soul is sent.
 
         Always in front of him a new mob stands.
         Each, taking a turn, proceeds to judgment:
15       Each owns up, listens, and is pitched below.
 
         "You who approach this dwelling-place of pain,"
         Cried Minos when he laid his eyes on me —
         Forsaking the performance of his office —
 
         "Watch out how you enter and whom you trust!
20       Do not let the wide-open gateway fool you!"
         My guide said to him, "Why do you cry out?
 
         "Do not obstruct his own predestined way:
         This deed has so been willed where One can do
         Whatever He wills — and ask no more questions."
 
25       Now the notes of suffering begin
         To reach my hearing; now I am arrived
         At where the widespread wailing hammers me.
 
         I come to a place where all light is muted,
         Which rumbles like the sea beneath a storm
30       When waves are buffeted by warring squalls.
 
         The windblast out of hell, forever restless,
         Thrusts the spirits onward with its force,
         Swirling and mauling and harassing them.
 
         When they alight upon this scene of wreckage,
35       Screams, reproaches, and bemoanings rise
         As souls call down their curses on God's power.
 
         I learned that to this unending torment
         Have been condemned the sinners of the flesh,
         Those who surrender reason to self-will.
 
40       And as the starlings are lifted on their wings
         In icy weather to wide and serried flocks,
         So does the gale lift up the wicked spirits,
 
         Flinging them here and there and down and up:
         No hope whatever can ever comfort them,
45       Neither of rest nor of less punishment.
 
         And as the cranes fly over, chanting lays,
         Forming one long line across the sky,
         So I saw come, uttering their cries,
 
         Shades wafted onward by these winds of strife,
50       To make me ask him, "Master, who are those
         People whom the blackened air so punishes?"
 
         "The first among those souls whose chronicle
         You want to know," he then replied to me,
         "Was empress over lands of many tongues.
 
55       "Her appetite for lust became so flagrant
         That she made lewdness licit with her laws
         To free her from the blame her vice incurred.
 
         "She is Semiramis, whose story reads
         That, as his wife, she succeeded Ninus,
60       Controlling the country now ruled by the sultan.
 
         "The other, Dido, killed herself for love
         And broke faith with the ashes of Sychaeus;
         Next comes the lust-enamored Cleopatra.
 
         "See Helen, for whom many years of woe
65       Rolled on, and see the great Achilles
         Who in his final battle came to love.
 
         "See Paris, Tristan" — and then of a thousand
         Shades, he pointed out and named for me
         All those whom love had cut off from our life.
 
70       After I had listened to my instructor
         Name the knights and ladies of the past,
         Pity gripped me, and I lost my bearing.
 
         I began, "Poet, I would most willingly
         Address those two who pass together there
75       And appear to be so light upon the wind,"
 
         And he told me, "You will see when they draw
         Closer to us that, if you petition them
         By the love that propels them, they will come."
 
         As soon as the gust curved them near to us,
80       I raised my voice to them, "O wind-worn souls,
         Come speak to us if it is not forbidden."
 
         Just as the doves when homing instinct calls them
         To their sweet nest, on steadily lifted wings
         Glide through the air, guided by their longing,
 
85       So those souls left the covey where Dido lies,
         Moving toward us through the malignant air,
         So strong was the loving-kindness in my cry.
 
         "O mortal man, gracious and tenderhearted,
         Who through the somber air come to visit
90       The two of us who stained the earth with blood,
 
         "If the King of the universe were our friend,
         We would then pray to him to bring you peace,
         Since you show pity for our wretched plight.
 
         "Whatever you please to hear and speak about
95       We will hear and speak about with you
         While the wind, as it is now, is silent.
 
         "The country of my birth lies on that coast
         Where the river Po with its tributaries
         Flows downhill to its place of final rest.
 
100      "Love which takes quick hold in a gentle heart
         Seized this man for the beauty of the body
         Snatched from me — how it happened galls me!
 
         "Love which pardons no one loved from loving
         Seized me so strongly with my pleasure in him
105      That, as you see, it still does not leave me.
 
         "Love led the two of us to a single death:
         Caina awaits him who snuffed out our lives."
         These were the words conveyed from them to us.
 
         When I had heard those grief-stricken souls,
110      I bowed my head and held it bowed down low
         Until the poet asked, "What are you thinking?"
 
         When I replied, I ventured, "O misery,
         How many the sweet thoughts, how much yearning
         Has led these two to this heartbroken pass!"
 
115     Then I turned round again to speak to them,
         And I began, "Francesca, your sufferings
         Move my heart to tears of grief and pity.
 
         "But tell me, in the season of sweet sighs,
         By what signs did love grant to you the favor
120      Of recognizing your mistrustful longings?"
 
         And she told me, "Nothing is more painful
         Than to recall the time of happiness
         In wretchedness: this truth your teacher knows.
 
         "If, however, to learn the initial root
125      Of our own love is now your deep desire,
         I will speak here as one who weeps in speaking.
 
         "One day for our own pleasure we were reading
         Of Lancelot and how love pinioned him.
         We were alone and innocent of suspicion.
 
130      "Several times that reading forced our eyes
         To meet and took the color from our faces.
         But one solitary moment conquered us.
 
         "When we read there of how the longed-for smile
         Was being kissed by that heroic lover,
135      This man, who never shall be severed from me,
 
         "Trembling all over, kissed me on the mouth.
         That book — and its author — was a pander!
         In it that day we did no further reading."
 
         While the one spirit spoke these words, the other
140      Wept so sadly that pity swept over me
         And I fainted as if face to face with death,
 
         And I fell just as a dead body falls.