Inferno: Canto XXVI

Exult, O Florence, in so great a fame!
Your wings are waving over land and sea;
And e'en through hell resounds your mighty name.

Among the robbers I discover'd five, —
Your citizens, — five such — it shameth me;
Nor great the reputation you derive.

But if, as morning rises, dreams are true.
Erelong you shall experience all the ill
That Prato and your neighbours wish for you:

Were it arrived, 'twould give my mind relief:
I wish it were, since come at last it will;
As age advances, more will be my grief.

Departing, we ascend a staircase rude,
Carved in the rock down which we lately went:
My guide preceded — I his steps pursued.

Wending our way, thus desolate and lone,
Mid rugged crags and dire impediment.
We grasp'd with feet and hands the jutting stone.

Then did I grieve, and now I grieve again,
When I consider what there met mine eyes;
And, more than I am wont, my mind restrain.

Lest, uncontroul'd by virtue, it be driven;
And I abuse those better qualities.
Or favouring star, or higher power hath given.

What time the sun least hides his glorious face,
And with his lustre gilds the glowing sky.
When to the gnat the buzzing fly gives place; —

As many fire-flies as the rustic sees
Down in the vale, where field and vineyard lie.
Whilst on the hill his limbs recline at ease;

With flames so numerous shone, all gleaming bright,
The eighth abyss, as I discern'd, when near
We drew, and of the bottom gain'd a sight.

As he, whose wrongs did savage bears resent,
Beheld from earth depart Elijah's car,
By fiery steeds borne up heaven's steep ascent, —

And as its course he follow'd with his eye,
Nought could perceive except the flame alone.
Ascending like a little cloud on high; —

So moved each flame at the entrance of the cave;
And none its prey disclosed; — yet every one
A furtive shelter to some sinner gave.

When looking down, I bent me o'er the bridge, —
Though none impell'd, I should have fall'n below.
Had I not firmly grasp'd a rocky ridge.

My guide, who saw me thus attentive, cried:
"Within the fires are spirits rack'd by woe.
Who in this scorching garb their persons hide."

"Master," I said, "thy words have from my mind
All doubt removed; — that so it was, ere while
I fancied, and to tell thee felt inclined.

Whose flame is that before us, cleft in twain.
Which seems as if uprising from the pile.
Where lay Eteocles and his brother slain?

"Ulysses," answer'd he, "and Diomed
Within are tortured: and with equal course
Hasten to pain, as erst to wrath they sped:

Pent in one flame, the treacherous horse they rue,
That fatal ambuscade, the destin'd source
From which their noble seed the Romans drew: —

There mourn the frauds whence, though bereft of life,
Deidamia doth Achilles wail;
And Troy's Palladium too augments their grief."

"If they within these fires may speak," I cried,
"I pray thee now, — and let this prayer avail —
This single prayer for thousand prayers beside; —

Here for awhile thy progress to delay,
Until the horned flame approacheth nigh: —
Behold how anxiously I bend that way."

To me he answer gave: "Full well thy prayer
Deserves my praise, and therefore I comply;
But from addressing them thyself forbear:

Be mine to speak — for I already know
What thou would'st say; —these Grecians, in their pride.
Might not on thee perhaps their words bestow."

Then when the flame was seen that place to reach
Which seem'd appropriate to my faithful guide.
In words like these I heard him frame his speech.

"Ye spirits twain, within one fire contain'd, —
Your gratitude, however slight the share.
If e'er while living on the earth I gain'd.

What time I sung my lofty minstrelsy, —
Here tarry; and let one of you declare.
Where self-devoted he lay down to die."

The larger horn of that old flame began
To curl itself, and then in murmurs broke.
E'en like a fire the labouring breezes fan:

And now the summit, waving here and there.
As though it were a living tongue that spoke.
Threw forth a voice, which burst upon mine ear.

"On leaving Circe, who detained me more
Than twelve full months, Gaieta's headland near.
Ere yet Eneas thus had named the shore; —

Nor fondness for my son, nor care for thee.
My aged sire, nor love's requital dear.
To fill with joy thy heart, Penelope,

Could in my mind the strong desire arrest
To learn experience in the affairs of man; —
What virtues, and what vices rule his breast.

O'er the deep waters of the boundless main.
In one lone bark, my course I dauntless ran,
With the few faithful friends that form'd my train.

As far as Spain I either coast descried,
Far as Morocco and Sardinia's shore,
And other isles wash'd by that circling tide.

Aged and slow, our manly strength impair'd —
Now onward to that distant strait we bore.
Where Hercules his pillars hath uprear'd.

Lest man presume to pass the barrier dread.
Seville was left behind us on our right;
On the other hand was Ceuta lost in shade.

'Comrades,' I said, 'who now have reach'd the west.
And won your way through perils infinite, —
Short is the space ere all will be at rest;

. Let each then rouse his drooping energies
That land without inhabitants to find —
Still unexplor'd, which to the westward lies.

Bear your illustrious origin in view;
For not to live like brutes were ye design'd.
But knowledge high and virtue to pursue!'

This brief oration, to my comrades made,
Avail'd so much their ardour to excite.
It could not afterwards have been allay'd.

When we had turn'd the poop to face the east.
We strain'd our oars to wing our foolish flight;
And thus proceeding gain'd upon the west.

The stars that o'er the other pole are spread
That night I saw, while our's was so deprest.
It rose not higher than the ocean's bed.

Five times the moon had shed her brightest ray.
As oft was robb'd of her transparent vest.
Since first we enter'd on our mighty way —

When, dim in distance, rear'd its brow on high
A mountain — which, now bursting on our view.
Appeared the loftiest that e'er met mine eye.

Great was our joy — a joy soon turn'd to woe;
For, rushing from the land unknown and new,
A whirlwind sprang, and struck the vessel's prow:

Thrice did it drive the ship and waters round;
The poop ascended as the fourth wave rose;
The prow lay buried in the depth profound.

And o'er our heads Heaven bade the sea to close,"