Down such a steep flight must we now descend!

Mount thou before: for that no power the tail May have to harm thee, I will be i' th' midst."

As one, who hath an ague fit so near, His nails already are turn'd blue, and he Quivers all o'er, if he but eye the shade; Such was my cheer at hearing of his words.

But shame soon interpos'd her threat, who makes The servant bold in presence of his lord.

I settled me upon those shoulders huge, And would have said, but that the words to aid My purpose came not, "Look thou clasp me firm!"

But he whose succour then not first I prov'd, Soon as I mounted, in his arms aloft, Embracing, held me up, and thus he spake: "Geryon! now move thee! be thy wheeling gyres Of ample circuit, easy thy descent.

Think on th' unusual burden thou sustain'st."

As a small vessel, back'ning out from land, Her station quits; so thence the monster loos'd, And when he felt himself at large, turn'd round There where the breast had been, his forked tail.

Thus, like an eel, outstretch'd at length he steer'd, Gath'ring the air up with retractile claws.

Not greater was the dread when Phaeton The reins let drop at random, whence high heaven, Whereof signs yet appear, was wrapt in flames; Nor when ill-fated Icarus perceiv'd, By liquefaction of the scalded wax, The trusted pennons loosen'd from his loins, His sire exclaiming loud, "Ill way thou keep'st!"

Than was my dread, when round me on each part The air I view'd, and other object none Save the fell beast. He slowly sailing, wheels His downward motion, un.o.bserv'd of me, But that the wind, arising to my face, Breathes on me from below. Now on our right I heard the cataract beneath us leap With hideous crash; whence bending down to' explore, New terror I conceiv'd at the steep plunge:

For flames I saw, and wailings smote mine ear: So that all trembling close I crouch'd my limbs, And then distinguish'd, unperceiv'd before, By the dread torments that on every side Drew nearer, how our downward course we wound.

As falcon, that hath long been on the wing, But lure nor bird hath seen, while in despair The falconer cries, "Ah me! thou stoop'st to earth!"

Wearied descends, and swiftly down the sky In many an orbit wheels, then lighting sits At distance from his lord in angry mood; So Geryon lighting places us on foot Low down at base of the deep-furrow'd rock, And, of his burden there discharg'd, forthwith Sprang forward, like an arrow from the string.

CANTO XVIII

THERE is a place within the depths of h.e.l.l Call'd Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain'd With hue ferruginous, e'en as the steep That round it circling winds. Right in the midst Of that abominable region, yawns A s.p.a.cious gulf profound, whereof the frame Due time shall tell. The circle, that remains, Throughout its round, between the gulf and base Of the high craggy banks, successive forms Ten trenches, in its hollow bottom sunk.

As where to guard the walls, full many a foss Begirds some stately castle, sure defence Affording to the s.p.a.ce within, so here Were model'd these; and as like fortresses E'en from their threshold to the brink without, Are flank'd with bridges; from the rock's low base Thus flinty paths advanc'd, that 'cross the moles And dikes, struck onward far as to the gulf, That in one bound collected cuts them off.

Such was the place, wherein we found ourselves From Geryon's back dislodg'd. The bard to left Held on his way, and I behind him mov'd.

On our right hand new misery I saw, New pains, new executioners of wrath, That swarming peopled the first chasm. Below Were naked sinners. Hitherward they came, Meeting our faces from the middle point, With us beyond but with a larger stride.

E'en thus the Romans, when the year returns Of Jubilee, with better speed to rid The thronging mult.i.tudes, their means devise For such as pa.s.s the bridge; that on one side All front toward the castle, and approach Saint Peter's fane, on th' other towards the mount.

Each divers way along the grisly rock, Horn'd demons I beheld, with lashes huge, That on their back unmercifully smote.

Ah! how they made them bound at the first stripe!

None for the second waited nor the third.

Meantime as on I pa.s.s'd, one met my sight Whom soon as view'd; "Of him," cried I, "not yet Mine eye hath had his fill." With fixed gaze I therefore scann'd him. Straight the teacher kind Paus'd with me, and consented I should walk Backward a s.p.a.ce, and the tormented spirit, Who thought to hide him, bent his visage down.

But it avail'd him nought; for I exclaim'd: "Thou who dost cast thy eye upon the ground, Unless thy features do belie thee much, Venedico art thou. But what brings thee Into this bitter seas'ning?" He replied: "Unwillingly I answer to thy words.

But thy clear speech, that to my mind recalls The world I once inhabited, constrains me.

Know then 'twas I who led fair Ghisola To do the Marquis' will, however fame The shameful tale have bruited. Nor alone Bologna hither sendeth me to mourn Rather with us the place is so o'erthrong'd That not so many tongues this day are taught, Betwixt the Reno and Savena's stream, To answer SIPA in their country's phrase.

And if of that securer proof thou need, Remember but our craving thirst for gold."

Him speaking thus, a demon with his thong Struck, and exclaim'd, "Away! corrupter! here Women are none for sale." Forthwith I join'd My escort, and few paces thence we came To where a rock forth issued from the bank.

That easily ascended, to the right Upon its splinter turning, we depart From those eternal barriers. When arriv'd, Where underneath the gaping arch lets pa.s.s The scourged souls: "Pause here," the teacher said, "And let these others miserable, now Strike on thy ken, faces not yet beheld, For that together they with us have walk'd."

From the old bridge we ey'd the pack, who came From th' other side towards us, like the rest, Excoriate from the lash. My gentle guide, By me unquestion'd, thus his speech resum'd: "Behold that lofty shade, who this way tends, And seems too woe-begone to drop a tear.

How yet the regal aspect he retains!

Jason is he, whose skill and prowess won The ram from Colchos. To the Lemnian isle His pa.s.sage thither led him, when those bold And pitiless women had slain all their males.

There he with tokens and fair witching words Hypsipyle beguil'd, a virgin young, Who first had all the rest herself beguil'd.

Impregnated he left her there forlorn.

Such is the guilt condemns him to this pain.

Here too Medea's inj'ries are avenged.

All bear him company, who like deceit To his have practis'd. And thus much to know Of the first vale suffice thee, and of those Whom its keen torments urge." Now had we come Where, crossing the next pier, the straighten'd path Bestrides its shoulders to another arch.

Hence in the second chasm we heard the ghosts, Who jibber in low melancholy sounds, With wide-stretch'd nostrils snort, and on themselves Smite with their palms. Upon the banks a scurf From the foul steam condens'd, encrusting hung, That held sharp combat with the sight and smell.

So hollow is the depth, that from no part, Save on the summit of the rocky span, Could I distinguish aught. Thus far we came; And thence I saw, within the foss below, A crowd immers'd in ordure, that appear'd Draff of the human body. There beneath Searching with eye inquisitive, I mark'd One with his head so grim'd, 't were hard to deem, If he were clerk or layman. Loud he cried: "Why greedily thus bendest more on me, Than on these other filthy ones, thy ken?"

"Because if true my mem'ry," I replied, "I heretofore have seen thee with dry locks, And thou Alessio art of Lucca sprung.

Therefore than all the rest I scan thee more."

Then beating on his brain these words he spake: "Me thus low down my flatteries have sunk, Wherewith I ne'er enough could glut my tongue."

My leader thus: "A little further stretch Thy face, that thou the visage well mayst note Of that besotted, s.l.u.ttish courtezan, Who there doth rend her with defiled nails, Now crouching down, now risen on her feet.

"Thais is this, the harlot, whose false lip Answer'd her doting paramour that ask'd, 'Thankest me much!'--'Say rather wondrously,'

And seeing this here satiate be our view."

CANTO XIX

WOE to thee, Simon Magus! woe to you, His wretched followers! who the things of G.o.d, Which should be wedded unto goodness, them, Rapacious as ye are, do prost.i.tute For gold and silver in adultery!

Now must the trumpet sound for you, since yours Is the third chasm. Upon the following vault We now had mounted, where the rock impends Directly o'er the centre of the foss.

Wisdom Supreme! how wonderful the art, Which thou dost manifest in heaven, in earth, And in the evil world, how just a meed Allotting by thy virtue unto all!

I saw the livid stone, throughout the sides And in its bottom full of apertures, All equal in their width, and circular each, Nor ample less nor larger they appear'd Than in Saint John's fair dome of me belov'd Those fram'd to hold the pure baptismal streams, One of the which I brake, some few years past, To save a whelming infant; and be this A seal to undeceive whoever doubts The motive of my deed. From out the mouth Of every one, emerg'd a sinner's feet And of the legs high upward as the calf The rest beneath was hid. On either foot The soles were burning, whence the flexile joints Glanc'd with such violent motion, as had snapt Asunder cords or twisted withs. As flame, Feeding on unctuous matter, glides along The surface, scarcely touching where it moves; So here, from heel to point, glided the flames.

"Master! say who is he, than all the rest Glancing in fiercer agony, on whom A ruddier flame doth prey?" I thus inquir'd.

"If thou be willing," he replied, "that I Carry thee down, where least the slope bank falls, He of himself shall tell thee and his wrongs."

I then: "As pleases thee to me is best.

Thou art my lord; and know'st that ne'er I quit Thy will: what silence hides that knowest thou."

Thereat on the fourth pier we came, we turn'd, And on our left descended to the depth, A narrow strait and perforated close.

Nor from his side my leader set me down, Till to his orifice he brought, whose limb Quiv'ring express'd his pang. "Whoe'er thou art, Sad spirit! thus revers'd, and as a stake Driv'n in the soil!" I in these words began, "If thou be able, utter forth thy voice."

There stood I like the friar, that doth shrive A wretch for murder doom'd, who e'en when fix'd, Calleth him back, whence death awhile delays.

He shouted: "Ha! already standest there?

Already standest there, O Boniface!

By many a year the writing play'd me false.

So early dost thou surfeit with the wealth, For which thou fearedst not in guile to take The lovely lady, and then mangle her?"