The Online Library of Liberty

A project of Liberty Fund, Inc.

• Ave Dante
• Preface
• Inferno I
• Inferno Ii
• Inferno Iii
• Inferno Iv
• Inferno V
• Inferno Vi
• Inferno Vii
• Inferno Viii
• Inferno Ix
• Inferno X
• Inferno Xi
• Inferno Xii
• Inferno Xiii
• Inferno Xiv
• Inferno Xv
• Inferno Xvi
• Inferno Xvii
• Inferno Xviii
• Inferno Xix
• Inferno Xx
• Inferno Xxi
• Inferno Xxii
• Inferno Xxiii
• Inferno Xxiv
• Inferno Xxv
• Inferno Xxvi
• Inferno Xxvii
• Inferno Xxviii
• Inferno Xxix
• Inferno Xxx
• Inferno Xxxi
• Inferno Xxxii
• Inferno Xxxiii
• Inferno Xxxiv

INFERNO I

• When half way through the journey of our life
• I found that I was in a gloomy wood,
• because the path which led aright was lost.
• And ah, how hard it is to say just what
• this wild and rough and stubborn woodland was,
• the very thought of which renews my fear!
• So bitter ’t is, that death is little worse;
• but of the good to treat which there I found,
• I ’ll speak of what I else discovered there.

• I cannot well say how I entered it,
• so full of slumber was I at the moment
• when I forsook the pathway of the truth;
• but after I had reached a mountain’s foot,
• where that vale ended which had pierced my heart
• with fear, I looked on high,
• and saw its shoulders
• mantled already with that planet’s rays
• which leadeth one aright o’er every path.

• Then quieted a little was the fear,
• which in the lake-depths of my heart had lasted
• throughout the night I passed so piteously.

• And even as he who, from the deep emerged
• with sorely troubled breath upon the shore,
• turns round, and gazes at the dangerous water;
• even so my mind, which still was fleeing on,
• turned back to look again upon the pass
• which ne’er permitted any one to live.

• When I had somewhat eased my weary body,
• o’er the lone slope I so resumed my way,
• that e’er the lower was my steady foot.
• Then lo, not far from where the ascent began,
• a Leopard which, exceeding light and swift,
• was covered over with a spotted hide,
• and from my presence did not move away;
• nay, rather, she so hindered my advance,
• that more than once I turned me to go back.

• Some time had now from early morn elapsed,
• and with those very stars the sun was rising
• that in his escort were, when Love Divine
• in the beginning moved those beauteous things;
• I therefore had as cause for hoping well
• of that wild beast with gaily mottled skin,
• the hour of daytime and the year’s sweet season;
• but not so, that I should not fear the sight,
• which next appeared before me, of a Lion,
• — against me this one seemed to be advancing
• with head erect and with such raging hunger,
• that even the air seemed terrified thereby —

• and of a she-Wolf, which with every lust
• seemed in her leanness laden, and had caused
• many ere now to lead unhappy lives.
• The latter so oppressed me with the fear
• that issued from her aspect, that I lost
• the hope I had of winning to the top.

• And such as he is, who is glad to gain,
• and who, when times arrive that make him lose,
• weeps and is saddened in his every thought;
• such did that peaceless animal make me,
• which, ’gainst me coming, pushed me, step by step,
• back to the place where silent is the sun.

• While toward the lowland I was falling fast,
• the sight of one was offered to mine eyes,
• who seemed, through long continued silence, weak.
• When him in that vast wilderness I saw,
• “Have pity on me,” I cried out to him,
• “whate’er thou be, or shade, or very man!”

• “Not man,” he answered, “I was once a man;
• and both my parents were of Lombardy,
• and Mantuans with respect to fatherland.
• ’Neath Julius was I born, though somewhat late,
• and under good Augustus’ rule I lived
• in Rome, in days of false and lying gods.
• I was a poet, and of that just man,
• Anchises’ son, I sang, who came from Troy
• after proud Ilion had been consumed.

• But thou, to such sore trouble why return?
• Why climbst thou not the Mountain of Delight,
• which is of every joy the source and cause?”

• “Art thou that Virgil, then, that fountain-head
• which poureth forth so broad a stream of speech?”
• I answered him with shame upon my brow.
• “O light and glory of the other poets,
• let the long study, and the ardent love
• which made me con thy book, avail me now.
• Thou art my teacher and authority;
• thou only art the one from whom I took
• the lovely manner which hath done me honor.
• Behold the beast on whose account I turned;
• from her protect me, O thou famous Sage,
• for she makes both my veins and pulses tremble!”

• “A different course from this must thou pursue,”
• he answered, when he saw me shedding tears,
• “if from this wilderness thou wouldst escape;
• for this wild beast, on whose account thou criest,
• alloweth none to pass along her way,
• but hinders him so greatly, that she kills;
• and is by nature so malign and guilty,
• that never doth she sate her greedy lust,
• but after food is hungrier than before.
• Many are the animals with which she mates,
• and still more will there be, until the Hound
• shall come, and bring her to a painful death.

• He shall not feed on either land or wealth,
• but wisdom, love and power shall be his food,
• and ’tween two Feltros shall his birth take place.
• Of that low Italy he ’ll be the savior,
• for which the maid Camilla died of wounds,
• with Turnus, Nisus and Eurỳalus.
• And he shall drive her out of every town,
• till he have put her back again in Hell,
• from which the earliest envy sent her forth.

• I therefore think and judge it best for thee
• to follow me; and I shall be thy guide,
• and lead thee hence through an eternal place,
• where thou shalt hear the shrieks of hopelessness
• of those tormented spirits of old times,
• each one of whom bewails the second death;
• then those shalt thou behold who, though in fire,
• contented are, because they hope to come,
• whene’er it be, unto the blessèd folk;
• to whom, thereafter, if thou wouldst ascend,
• there ’ll be for that a worthier soul than I.
• With her at my departure I shall leave thee,
• because the Emperor who rules up there,
• since I was not obedient to His law,
• wills none shall come into His town through me.
• He rules as emperor everywhere, and there
• as king; there is His town and lofty throne.
• O happy he whom He thereto elects!”

• And I to him: “O Poet, I beseech thee,
• even by the God it was not thine to know,
• so may I from this ill and worse escape,
• conduct me thither where thou saidst just now,
• that I may see Saint Peter’s Gate, and those
• whom thou describest as so whelmed with woe.”

• He then moved on, and I behind him kept.