Inferno: Canto IV

A heavy thunder broke the deep sleep in my head; so that I started like one who is awaked by force;

and, having risen erect, I moved my rested eyes around, and looked stedfastly to know the place in which I was.

True is it, that I found myself upon the brink of the dolorous Valley of the Abyss, which gathers thunder of endless wailings.

It was so dark, profound, and cloudy, that, with fixing my look upon the bottom, I there discerned nothing.

“Now let us descend into the blind world here below,” began the Poet all pale; “I will be first, and thou shalt be second.”

And I, who had remarked his colour, said: “How shall I come, when thou fearest, who art wont to be my strength in doubt?”

And he to me: “The anguish of the people who are here below, on my face depaints that pity, which thou takest for fear.

Let us go; for the length of way impels us.” Thus he entered, and made me enter, into the first circle that girds the abyss.

Here there was no plaint, that could be heard, except of sighs, which caused the eternal air to tremble;

and this arose from the sadness, without torment, of the crowds that were many and great, both of children, and of women and men.

The good Master to me: “Thou askest not what spirits are these thou seest? I wish thee to know, before thou goest farther,

that they sinned not; and though they have merit, it suffices not: for they had not Baptism, which is the portal of the faith that thou believest;

and seeing they were before Christianity, they worshipped not God aright; and of these am I myself.

For such defects, and for no other fault, are we lost; and only in so far afflicted, that without hope we live in desire.”

Great sadness took me at the heart on hearing this; because I knew men of much worth, who in that Limbo were suspense.

“Tell me, Master; tell me, Sir,” I began, desiring to be assured of that Faith which conquers every error;

“did ever any, by his own merit, or by others’, go out from hence, that afterwards was blessed?” And he, understanding my covert speech,

replied: “I was new in this condition, when I saw a Mighty One come to us, crowned with sign of victory.

He took away from us the shade of our First Parent, of Abel his son, and that of Noah; of Moses the Legislator and obedient;

Abraham the Patriarch; David the King; Israel with his father and his children, and [with] Rachel, for whom he did so much;

and many others, and made them blessed; and I wish thee to know, that, before these, no human souls were saved.”

We ceased not to go, though he was speaking; but passed the wood meanwhile, the wood, I say, of crowded spirits.

Our way was not yet far [since my slumber], when I saw a fire, which conquered a hemisphere of the darkness.

We were still a little distant from it; yet not so distant, that I did not in part discern what honourable people occupied that place.

“O thou, that honourest every science and art; who are these, who have such honour, that it separates them from the manner of the rest?”

And he to me: “The honoured name, which sounds of them, up in that life of thine, gains favour in heaven which thus advances them.”

Meanwhile a voice was heard by me: “Honour the great Poet! His shade returns that was departed.”

After the voice had paused, and was silent, I saw four great shadows come to us; they had an aspect neither sad nor joyful.

The good Master began to speak: “Mark him with that sword in hand, who comes before the three as their lord:

that is Homer, the sovereign Poet; the next who comes is Horace the satirist; Ovid is the third, and the last is Lucan.

Because each agrees with me in the name, which the one voice sounded, they do me honour: and therein they do well,”

Thus I saw assembled the goodly school of [those] lord[s] of highest song, [which], like an eagle, soars above the rest.

After they had talked a space together, they turned to me with sign of salutation; and my Master smiled thereat.

And greatly more besides they honoured me; for they made me of their number, so that I was a sixth amid such intelligences.

Thus we went onwards to the light, speaking things which it is well to pass in silence, as it was well to speak there where I was.

We came to the foot of a Noble Castle, seven times circled with lofty Walls, defended round by a fair Rivulet.

This we passed as solid land; through seven gates I entered with those sages; we reached a meadow of fresh verdure.

On it were people with eyes slow and grave, of great authority in their appearance; they spoke seldom, with mild voices.

Thus we retired on one of the sides, into a place open, luminous, and high, so that they could all be seen.

There direct, upon the green enamel, were shewn to me the great spirits, [so that] I glory within myself [for] having seen [them],

I saw Electra with many companions: amongst whom I knew both Hector and Æneas; Cæsar armed, with the falcon eyes.

I saw Camilla and Penthesilea on the other hand, [and] saw the Latian king, sitting with Lavinia his daughter.

I saw that Brutus who expelled the Tarquin; Lucretia, Julia, Martia, and Cornelia; and by himself apart, I saw the Saladin.

When I raised my eyelids a little higher, I saw the Master of those that know, sitting amid a philosophic family.

All regard him; all do him honour; here I saw Socrates and Plato, who before the rest stand nearest to him;

Democritus, who ascribes the world to chance; Diogenes, Anaxagoras, and Thales; Empedocles, Heraclitus, and Zeno;

and I saw the good collector of the qualities, Dioscorides I mean; and saw Orpheus, Tully, [Linus], and Seneca the moralist;

Euclid the geometer, and Ptolemæus; Hippocrates, Avicenna, and Galen; Averrhoes, who made the great comment.

I may not paint them all in full: for the long theme so chases me, that many times the word comes short of the reality.

The company of six diminishes to two; by another road the sage guide leads me, out of the quiet, into the trembling air; and I come to a part where there is nought that shines.