Part 18

“The banners of Hell’s Monarch do come forth Towards us; therefore look,” so spake my guide, “If thou discern him.” As, when breathes a cloud Heavy and dense, or when the shades of night Fall on our hemisphere, seems view’d from far A windmill, which the blast stirs briskly round, Such was the fabric then methought I saw, To shield me from the wind, forthwith I drew Behind my guide: no covert else was there. Now came I (and with fear I bid my strain Record the marvel) where the souls were all Whelm’d underneath, transparent, as through glass Pellucid the frail stem. Some prone were laid, Others stood upright, this upon the soles, That on his head, a third with face to feet Arch’d like a bow. When to the point we came, Whereat my guide was pleas’d that I should see The creature eminent in beauty once, He from before me stepp’d and made me pause. “Lo!” he exclaim’d, “lo Dis! and lo the place, Where thou hast need to arm thy heart with strength.” How frozen and how faint I then became, Ask me not, reader! for I write it not, Since words would fail to tell thee of my state. I was not dead nor living. Think thyself If quick conception work in thee at all, How I did feel. That emperor, who sways The realm of sorrow, at mid breast from th’ ice Stood forth; and I in stature am more like A giant, than the giants are in his arms. Mark now how great that whole must be, which suits With such a part. If he were beautiful As he is hideous now, and yet did dare To scowl upon his Maker, well from him May all our mis’ry flow. Oh what a sight! How passing strange it seem’d, when I did spy Upon his head three faces: one in front Of hue vermilion, th’ other two with this Midway each shoulder join’d and at the crest; The right ’twixt wan and yellow seem’d: the left To look on, such as come from whence old Nile Stoops to the lowlands. Under each shot forth Two mighty wings, enormous as became A bird so vast. Sails never such I saw Outstretch’d on the wide sea. No plumes had they, But were in texture like a bat, and these He flapp’d i’ th’ air, that from him issued still Three winds, wherewith Cocytus to its depth Was frozen. At six eyes he wept: the tears Adown three chins distill’d with bloody foam. At every mouth his teeth a sinner champ’d Bruis’d as with pond’rous engine, so that three Were in this guise tormented. But far more Than from that gnawing, was the foremost pang’d By the fierce rending, whence ofttimes the back Was stript of all its skin. “That upper spirit, Who hath worse punishment,” so spake my guide, “Is Judas, he that hath his head within And plies the feet without. Of th’ other two, Whose heads are under, from the murky jaw Who hangs, is Brutus: lo! how he doth writhe And speaks not! Th’ other Cassius, that appears So large of limb. But night now re-ascends, And it is time for parting. All is seen.” I clipp’d him round the neck, for so he bade; And noting time and place, he, when the wings Enough were op’d, caught fast the shaggy sides, And down from pile to pile descending stepp’d Between the thick fell and the jagged ice. Soon as he reach’d the point, whereat the thigh Upon the swelling of the haunches turns, My leader there with pain and struggling hard Turn’d round his head, where his feet stood before, And grappled at the fell, as one who mounts, That into hell methought we turn’d again. “Expect that by such stairs as these,” thus spake The teacher, panting like a man forespent, “We must depart from evil so extreme.” Then at a rocky opening issued forth, And plac’d me on a brink to sit, next join’d With wary step my side. I rais’d mine eyes, Believing that I Lucifer should see Where he was lately left, but saw him now With legs held upward. Let the grosser sort, Who see not what the point was I had pass’d, Bethink them if sore toil oppress’d me then. “Arise,” my master cried, “upon thy feet. The way is long, and much uncouth the road; And now within one hour and half of noon The sun returns.” It was no palace-hall Lofty and luminous wherein we stood, But natural dungeon where ill footing was And scant supply of light. “Ere from th’ abyss I sep’rate,” thus when risen I began, “My guide! vouchsafe few words to set me free From error’s thralldom. Where is now the ice? How standeth he in posture thus revers’d? And how from eve to morn in space so brief Hath the sun made his transit?” He in few Thus answering spake: “Thou deemest thou art still On th’ other side the centre, where I grasp’d Th’ abhorred worm, that boreth through the world. Thou wast on th’ other side, so long as I Descended; when I turn’d, thou didst o’erpass That point, to which from ev’ry part is dragg’d All heavy substance. Thou art now arriv’d Under the hemisphere opposed to that, Which the great continent doth overspread, And underneath whose canopy expir’d The Man, that was born sinless, and so liv’d. Thy feet are planted on the smallest sphere, Whose other aspect is Judecca. Morn Here rises, when there evening sets: and he, Whose shaggy pile was scal’d, yet standeth fix’d, As at the first. On this part he fell down From heav’n; and th’ earth, here prominent before, Through fear of him did veil her with the sea, And to our hemisphere retir’d. Perchance To shun him was the vacant space left here By what of firm land on this side appears, That sprang aloof.” There is a place beneath, From Belzebub as distant, as extends The vaulted tomb, discover’d not by sight, But by the sound of brooklet, that descends This way along the hollow of a rock, Which, as it winds with no precipitous course, The wave hath eaten. By that hidden way My guide and I did enter, to return To the fair world: and heedless of repose We climbed, he first, I following his steps, Till on our view the beautiful lights of heav’n Dawn’d through a circular opening in the cave: Thus issuing we again beheld the stars. PURGATORY CANTO I O’er better waves to speed her rapid course The light bark of my genius lifts the sail, Well pleas’d to leave so cruel sea behind; And of that second region will I sing, In which the human spirit from sinful blot Is purg’d, and for ascent to Heaven prepares. Here, O ye hallow’d Nine! for in your train I follow, here the deadened strain revive; Nor let Calliope refuse to sound A somewhat higher song, of that loud tone, Which when the wretched birds of chattering note Had heard, they of forgiveness lost all hope. Sweet hue of eastern sapphire, that was spread O’er the serene aspect of the pure air, High up as the first circle, to mine eyes Unwonted joy renew’d, soon as I ’scap’d Forth from the atmosphere of deadly gloom, That had mine eyes and bosom fill’d with grief. The radiant planet, that to love invites, Made all the orient laugh, and veil’d beneath The Pisces’ light, that in his escort came. To the right hand I turn’d, and fix’d my mind On the’ other pole attentive, where I saw Four stars ne’er seen before save by the ken Of our first parents. Heaven of their rays Seem’d joyous. O thou northern site, bereft Indeed, and widow’d, since of these depriv’d! As from this view I had desisted, straight Turning a little tow’rds the other pole, There from whence now the wain had disappear’d, I saw an old man standing by my side Alone, so worthy of rev’rence in his look, That ne’er from son to father more was ow’d. Low down his beard and mix’d with hoary white Descended, like his locks, which parting fell Upon his breast in double fold. The beams Of those four luminaries on his face So brightly shone, and with such radiance clear Deck’d it, that I beheld him as the sun. “Say who are ye, that stemming the blind stream, Forth from th’ eternal prison-house have fled?” He spoke and moved those venerable plumes. “Who hath conducted, or with lantern sure Lights you emerging from the depth of night, That makes the infernal valley ever black? Are the firm statutes of the dread abyss Broken, or in high heaven new laws ordain’d, That thus, condemn’d, ye to my caves approach?” My guide, then laying hold on me, by words And intimations given with hand and head, Made my bent knees and eye submissive pay Due reverence; then thus to him replied. “Not of myself I come; a Dame from heaven Descending, had besought me in my charge To bring. But since thy will implies, that more Our true condition I unfold at large, Mine is not to deny thee thy request. This mortal ne’er hath seen the farthest gloom. But erring by his folly had approach’d So near, that little space was left to turn. Then, as before I told, I was dispatch’d To work his rescue, and no way remain’d Save this which I have ta’en. I have display’d Before him all the regions of the bad; And purpose now those spirits to display, That under thy command are purg’d from sin. How I have brought him would be long to say. From high descends the virtue, by whose aid I to thy sight and hearing him have led. Now may our coming please thee. In the search Of liberty he journeys: that how dear They know, who for her sake have life refus’d. Thou knowest, to whom death for her was sweet In Utica, where thou didst leave those weeds, That in the last great day will shine so bright. For us the’ eternal edicts are unmov’d: He breathes, and I am free of Minos’ power, Abiding in that circle where the eyes Of thy chaste Marcia beam, who still in look Prays thee, O hallow’d spirit! to own her shine. Then by her love we’ implore thee, let us pass Through thy sev’n regions; for which best thanks I for thy favour will to her return, If mention there below thou not disdain.” “Marcia so pleasing in my sight was found,” He then to him rejoin’d, “while I was there, That all she ask’d me I was fain to grant. Now that beyond the’ accursed stream she dwells, She may no longer move me, by that law, Which was ordain’d me, when I issued thence. Not so, if Dame from heaven, as thou sayst, Moves and directs thee; then no flattery needs. Enough for me that in her name thou ask. Go therefore now: and with a slender reed See that thou duly gird him, and his face Lave, till all sordid stain thou wipe from thence. For not with eye, by any cloud obscur’d, Would it be seemly before him to come, Who stands the foremost minister in heaven. This islet all around, there far beneath, Where the wave beats it, on the oozy bed Produces store of reeds. No other plant, Cover’d with leaves, or harden’d in its stalk, There lives, not bending to the water’s sway. After, this way return not; but the sun Will show you, that now rises, where to take The mountain in its easiest ascent.” He disappear’d; and I myself uprais’d Speechless, and to my guide retiring close, Toward him turn’d mine eyes. He thus began; “My son! observant thou my steps pursue. We must retreat to rearward, for that way The champain to its low extreme declines.” The dawn had chas’d the matin hour of prime, Which deaf before it, so that from afar I spy’d the trembling of the ocean stream. We travers’d the deserted plain, as one Who, wander’d from his track, thinks every step Trodden in vain till he regain the path. When we had come, where yet the tender dew Strove with the sun, and in a place, where fresh The wind breath’d o’er it, while it slowly dried; Both hands extended on the watery grass My master plac’d, in graceful act and kind. Whence I of his intent before appriz’d, Stretch’d out to him my cheeks suffus’d with tears. There to my visage he anew restor’d That hue, which the dun shades of hell conceal’d. Then on the solitary shore arriv’d, That never sailing on its waters saw Man, that could after measure back his course, He girt me in such manner as had pleas’d Him who instructed, and O, strange to tell! As he selected every humble