Inferno: Canto V

From the first circle thus I passed below
Down to the second, which less space doth bound.
And keener pain, that goads to cries of woe.

There dreaded Minos stands and snarls around,
And tries the crimes of those that enter in,
Judges, and sends as he his tail hath wound.

I say that when the soul whom Hell doth win
Comes in his presence, all its guilt confessed.
And when that grand inquisitor of sin

Sees in what part of Hell that soul should rest,
He round his frame his mighty tail doth throw
As oft as he would fix its grade unblest.

Ever in size the crowd before him grew,
And each in turn approaches and is tried;
They speak, they hear, and then are thrust below."

"O thou who to this hostel dark hast plied
Thy way," spake Minos, when he saw me there.
And for a time his great work put aside,

"How thou dost come, in whom dost trust, take care:
Let not the open entrance cheat thy soul."
Then spake my Guide: "What means this cry I hear?

Seek not his destined journey to control;
So is this willed where what is willed is one
(Ask thou no more) with might that works the whole."

Then to mine ears deep groans an entrance won,"'
Before unheard: I now had reached a spot
Where smote mine ear loud wail and many a groan.

I came unto a place where light was not,
Which murmurs ever like a storm-vext sea,
When strife of winds in conflict waxes hot.

That storm of Hell, which rest doth never see,
Bears on the spirits with its whirling blast,
And, hurling, dashing, pains exceedingly.

When they before the precipice have passed,
There pour they tears and wailing and lament,"
There curses fierce at God's high power they cast.

And then I knew this pain did those torment
Who had in life been sinners carnally,
And bowed their reason to lust's blandishment.

And as the starlings through the winter sky
Float on their wings in squadron long and dense,
So doth that storm the sinful souls sweep by:

Here, there, up, down, it drives in wild suspense.
Nor any hope their agony allays.
Or of repose or anguish less intense.

And as the cranes fly chanting out their lays.
And in the air form into lengthened line.
So these I looked on wailing went their ways.

Souls borne where fierce winds, as I said, combine.
Wherefore I spake: " O Master, who are these,
The people who in this dark tempest pine?

"The first of these," he said, " of whom 'twould please
Thy mind to hear, was once an empress famed
Of many peoples, nations, languages;

So sunk was she in foul lusts, evil-shamed,
That in her law she framed no rule but will,
That so her guilt might pass less sorely blamed.

Semiramis is she, whose record still
We read, who Ninus married and replaced:
She ruled the lands the Soldan's power doth fill.

The next is she who, by her love disgraced,
Sought death, unfaithful to Sichaeus dead.
Then Cleopatra, wanton and unchaste."

Then Helena I saw, whose beauty bred
Such evil times; the great Achilles too,
Who to the end in love's might combated.

Paris and Tristan, thousands more in view.
He, with his finger pointing, showed and named.
Whom love from this our earthly life withdrew.

And as I listened to my Teacher famed,
Telling of all those dames and knights of old,
I was as lost, and grief its victory claimed.

And I began: " O Poet, I am bold
To wish to speak awhile to yonder pair.
Who float so lightly on the storm-blast cold."

And he to me: " Thou'lt see them when they fare
More near to us: then pray them by that love
That leads them: they will to thy call repair."

Soon as the winds their forms towards us move,
My voice I lift: " O souls sore spent and driven,
Come ye and speak to us, if none reprove."

And e'en as doves, when love its call has given.
With open, steady wings to their sweet nest
Fly, by their will borne onward through the heaven.

So from the band where Dido was they pressed,
And came towards us through the air malign.
So strong the loving cry to them addressed.

"O living creature, gracious and benign,
Who com'st to visit, through the thick air perse.
Us, whose blood did the earth incarnadine,

Were He our friend who rules the universe,
We would pray Him to grant thee all His peace,
Since thou hast pity on our doom perverse.

Of that which thee to hear and speak shall please
We too will gladly with thee speak and hear,"
While, as it chances now, the wild winds cease.

The land where I was born is situate there
Where to the sea-coast line descends the Po,
To rest with all that to him tribute bear.

Love, which the gentle heart learns quick to know,
Seized him thou seest, for the presence fair
They robbed me of — the mode still deepens woe.

Love, who doth none beloved from loving spare,
Seized me for him with might that such joy bred,
That, as thou seest, it leaves me not e'en here.

Love to one death our steps together led;
Cai'na him who quenched our life doth wait."
Thus was it that were borne the words they said.

And when I heard those souls in sad estate,
I bowed my face, and so long kept it low,"
Till spake the poet: "What dost meditate?"

When I made answer, I began, " Ah woe!
What sweet fond thoughts, what passionate desire
Led to the pass whence such great sorrows flow?"

Then I turned to them and began inquire,"'''
"Francesca," so I spake, " thy miseries
A pitying grief that makes me weep inspire.

But tell me, in the time of those sweet sighs.
The hour, the mode, in which love led you on
Doubtful desires to know with open eyes."

And she to me: "A greater grief is none
Than to remember happier seasons past
In anguish; this thy Teacher well hath known:

But if thou seek'st to learn what brought at last
Our love's first hidden root to open sight,
I'll tell, as one who speaks while tears flow fast.

It chanced one day we read for out delight
How love held fast the soul of Lancelot;
Alone were we, nor deemed but all was right;

Full many a time our eyes their glances shot,
As we read on; our cheeks now paled, now blushed;
But one short moment doomed us to our lot.

When as we read how smile long sought for flushed
Fair face at kiss of lover so renowned.
He kissed me on my lips, as impulse rushed,

All trembling; now with me for aye is bound.
Writer and book were Gallehault to our will:
No time for reading more that day we found."

And while one spirit told the. story, still
The other wept so sore, that, pitying, I
Fainted away as though my grief would kill.

And fell, as falls a dead man, heavily.