The Divine Comedy | Page 8

his tail so oft
Himself encircles, as degrees
beneath
He dooms it to descend. Before him stand
Always a
num'rous throng; and in his turn
Each one to judgment passing,
speaks, and hears
His fate, thence downward to his dwelling hurl'd.
"O thou! who to this residence of woe
Approachest?" when he saw
me coming, cried
Minos, relinquishing his dread employ,
"Look
how thou enter here; beware in whom
Thou place thy trust; let not the
entrance broad
Deceive thee to thy harm." To him my guide:

"Wherefore exclaimest? Hinder not his way
By destiny appointed; so
'tis will'd
Where will and power are one. Ask thou no more."
Now 'gin the rueful wailings to be heard.
Now am I come where
many a plaining voice
Smites on mine ear. Into a place I came

Where light was silent all. Bellowing there groan'd
A noise as of a
sea in tempest torn
By warring winds. The stormy blast of hell
With
restless fury drives the spirits on
Whirl'd round and dash'd amain with
sore annoy.
When they arrive before the ruinous sweep,
There
shrieks are heard, there lamentations, moans,
And blasphemies 'gainst
the good Power in heaven.
I understood that to this torment sad
The carnal sinners are
condemn'd, in whom
Reason by lust is sway'd. As in large troops


And multitudinous, when winter reigns,
The starlings on their wings
are borne abroad;
So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls.
On
this side and on that, above, below,
It drives them: hope of rest to
solace them
Is none, nor e'en of milder pang. As cranes,
Chanting
their dol'rous notes, traverse the sky,
Stretch'd out in long array: so I
beheld
Spirits, who came loud wailing, hurried on
By their dire
doom. Then I: "Instructor! who
Are these, by the black air so
scourg'd?"--" The first
'Mong those, of whom thou question'st," he
replied,
"O'er many tongues was empress. She in vice
Of luxury
was so shameless, that she made
Liking be lawful by promulg'd
decree,
To clear the blame she had herself incurr'd.
This is
Semiramis, of whom 'tis writ,
That she succeeded Ninus her espous'd;

And held the land, which now the Soldan rules.
The next in
amorous fury slew herself,
And to Sicheus' ashes broke her faith:

Then follows Cleopatra, lustful queen."
There mark'd I Helen, for whose sake so long
The time was fraught
with evil; there the great
Achilles, who with love fought to the end.

Paris I saw, and Tristan; and beside
A thousand more he show'd me,
and by name
Pointed them out, whom love bereav'd of life.
When I had heard my sage instructor name
Those dames and knights
of antique days, o'erpower'd
By pity, well-nigh in amaze my mind

Was lost; and I began: "Bard! willingly
I would address those two
together coming,
Which seem so light before the wind." He thus:

"Note thou, when nearer they to us approach.
Then by that love
which carries them along,
Entreat; and they will come." Soon as the
wind
Sway'd them toward us, I thus fram'd my speech:
"O wearied
spirits! come, and hold discourse
With us, if by none else restrain'd."
As doves
By fond desire invited, on wide wings
And firm, to their
sweet nest returning home,
Cleave the air, wafted by their will along;

Thus issu'd from that troop, where Dido ranks,
They through the ill
air speeding; with such force
My cry prevail'd by strong affection

urg'd.
"O gracious creature and benign! who go'st
Visiting, through this
element obscure,
Us, who the world with bloody stain imbru'd;
If
for a friend the King of all we own'd,
Our pray'r to him should for thy
peace arise,
Since thou hast pity on our evil plight.
()f whatsoe'er to
hear or to discourse
It pleases thee, that will we hear, of that
Freely
with thee discourse, while e'er the wind,
As now, is mute. The land,
that gave me birth,
Is situate on the coast, where Po descends
To
rest in ocean with his sequent streams.
"Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt,
Entangled him by that
fair form, from me
Ta'en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still:

Love, that denial takes from none belov'd,
Caught me with pleasing
him so passing well,
That, as thou see'st, he yet deserts me not.

Love brought us to one death: Caina waits
The soul, who spilt our
life." Such were their words;
At hearing which downward I bent my
looks,
And held them there so long, that the bard cried:
"What art
thou pond'ring?" I in answer thus:
"Alas! by what sweet thoughts,
what fond desire
Must they at length to that ill pass have reach'd!"
Then turning, I to them my speech address'd.
And thus began:
"Francesca! your sad fate
Even to tears my grief and pity moves.

But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs,
By what, and how love
granted, that ye knew
Your yet uncertain wishes?" She replied:
"No
greater grief than to remember days
Of joy, when mis'ry is at hand!
That kens
Thy learn'd instructor. Yet so eagerly
If thou art bent to
know the primal root,
From whence our love gat being, I will do,

As one, who weeps and tells his tale. One day
For our delight we read
of Lancelot,
How him love thrall'd. Alone we were, and no

Suspicion near us. Ofttimes by that