Inferno: Canto VIII

Ere we had reach'd the lofty castle's base
(My wondrous history I here renew)
Our eyes were raised, upon its top to trace

Two little flames, which there were seen to rise;
Another answer'd, so remote to view,
We scarce discerned the glimmer with our eyes.

Then to the sea of knowledge turn'd, — I said:
"Wherefore this signal? why that answering light?
And who are they by whom these flames are fed?"

"What now advances o'er the gloomy tide.
Is surely," he exclaim'd, "within thy sight.
Unless indeed the marshy vapours hide."

With greater speed did never arrow fly
Forth from the string, and cut the yielding air.
Than, o'er the stream approaching, met mine eye

A little bark, that skimm'd along in haste,
Steer'd by a single boatman; who, aware,
Cried out: "Fell soul, art thou arrived at last?"

"Flegias, Flegias, the outcry thou dost make
For once avails thee not," exclaim'd the sire;
"We stay not with thee but to cross the lake."

As one, who hearing some egregious fraud
Practised upon him, gives his soul to ire;
So Flegias stood enraged before my lord.

Into the boat descended then the guide,
And, as he enter'd, bade me follow too:
Till I embark'd no burden press'd the tide.

Soon as we both were seated in the punt.
Away it went;— and with its ancient prow
Cut the black wave more deeply than 'twas wont:

Whilst we were hurrying o'er the stagnant slime,
One rose before me, smear'd with mud, and cried:
"Say who art thou who com'st before thy time?"

"I come not to remain:— but who," quoth I,
"Art thou who hast thyself so brutified?"
"Lo! one I am who weeps," was his reply.

And I to him: "With weeping and with woe,
Thy fitting company, cursed soul, remain; —
All muddy though thou art, thy face I know."

Then to the boat his hands in rage were thrown:
Whereat the master drove him back again.
Exclaiming: "To the other dogs begone,"

Around my neck his loving arms he flung,
And kiss'd my cheek: "Indignant soul," said he,
"How blest the mother from whose womb you sprung.

He, when alive, was arrogant, and proud;
No deed of goodness decks his memory;
Therefore his shade assumes this furious mood.

On earth how many deem themselves great kings,
Who here like swine shall wallow in a sty.
And leave a name that vile remembrance brings!"

"O what delight would it afford my heart
To see him plunged within the pool," said I,
"Ere from the filthy waters we depart!"

Then he to me: "Thou shalt be satisfied,
Before the infernal shore appear in sight;
'Tis meet that such a wish be not denied."

Soon after, I beheld the muddy crew
Set on him with such violence and might.
That God I thank for granting me the view.

"Down with Argenti!" shouted one and all;
And with his teeth his savage wrath to vent.
Himself this furious Florentine did maul:

We journied on, — so him no more I name.
Then smote mine ear a loud and shrill lament.
Whereat I stretch'd mine eye to whence it came.

"Behold, my son," to me the master cried,
"We now draw near the city named of Dis,
Where crowds of wretched citizens reside."

"Master," quoth I, "already I discern
Its bright Vermillion mosques in the abyss.
Which, as in furnace heated, seem to burn."

"The fire," he said, "that glows eternally
Within the walls, that ruddy hue supplies.
Which in the infernal valley thou may'st see."

Then we arrived within the trench profound
That compasseth this wretched land of sighs;
And framed of iron seem'd the walls around.

A tedious circuit made, at last we came
Where, "Lo the entrance — quit ye now the boat," —
We heard the pilot's thundering voice exclaim.

More than a thousand on the gates I spied,
Rain'd down from heaven; — disdainfully they shout:
"Say who is this, that (death's dread power untried)

Stalks through the dusky regions of the dead?"
His wish for secret conference to show.
My sapient guide to them a signal made.

Their mighty wrath they somewhat then forbare;
"Come thou alone," they said, "and let him go
Who so audaciously hath enter'd here;

Let him retrace his foolish steps again,
With none to lead him through this darksome land.
For thou his escort shalt with us remain."

Think, reader, how disconsolate was I,
Hearing the malice that their words contained: —
I thought I never should return on high.

"O thou, dear guide, who safety hast bestow'd
Sev'n times at least, and borne me scathless through.
When direst peril hath beset my road —

O leave me not," I said, "in this dismay;
And if such dreaded obstacles ensue.
Together let us speed our backward way."

Then answer'd he — my kind and faithful guide:
"Fear not, for none a passage can deny.
By One so potent is our strength supplied:

Wait my return, and feed thy heavy sprite
With goodly hope; — for be assured that I
Will ne'er desert thee in these realms of night."

He thus departs. — Abandon'd by my friend,
Alone I stand in sorrowful suspense.
While no and yes within my heart contend:

Nor could I aught distinguish what he said;
But scarce had he begun a conference.
When back within the walls they quickly sped.

Against my master's breast our enemy
The portals closed: — shut out — he came away.
With tardy footsteps turning back to me.

Downward his eyes were bent, and from his brow
All boldness gone; in sighs he seem'd to say,
"Who hath denied me these abodes of woe?"

He then address'd me: "Be not thou afraid
At this my wrath; our way shall still be won,
Whate'er resistance may within be made:

Not we the first their insolence to prove;
For erst at a less secret gate 'twas shown.
Which, now unbarr'd, thou hast beheld above:

Its deadly words engraved thou didst descry.
Already passing through the circles vast.
One cometh unescorted from on high.

By whose assistance shall the gate be past."