The Online Library of Liberty

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• 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 IX

• The color cowardice brought out on me,
• who saw my Leader coming back, the sooner
• repressed in him his unaccustomed hue.
• He stopped attentive like a man who listens;
• because his eyesight could not lead him far
• through the dark air, and through the heavy fog.
• “Yet we must win the battle,” he began,
• “unless . . . One such did offer us herself!
• Oh, how I long for some one to arrive!”

• I well perceived how, when he overlaid
• what he began to say by what came after,
• that these were words that differed from the first.
• But none the less his language gave me fear,
• because I lent to his unfinished phrase
• a meaning worse, perhaps, than he intended.

• “Into this bottom of the dismal shell
• doth any of that first grade e’er descend,
• whose only penalty is hope cut off?”

• I asked this question. He replied to me:
• “It seldom comes to pass that one of us
• performs the journey whereupon I go.

• ’T is true that I was conjured once before
• down here by magic of that wild Erìchtho,
• who used to call shades back into their bodies.
• My flesh had hardly been made bare of me,
• when me she forced to enter yonder wall,
• and thence withdraw a soul from Judas’ ring.
• That is the lowest and the darkest place,
• and from the heaven that turns all things most distant;
• well do I know the road; so be at rest!
• This marsh, from which the mighty stench exhales,
• girdles the woeful city round about,
• which without wrath we cannot enter now.”

• And more he said, but I recall it not,
• because mine eye had made me wholly heed
• the glowing summit of the lofty tower,
• where three infernal Furies stained with blood
• had suddenly uprisen all at once,
• having the members and the mien of women,
• and girt with water-snakes of brightest green;
• for hair they had small serpents and horned snakes,
• wherewith their frightful temples were entwined.

• And he, who well the handmaids of the Queen
• of everlasting lamentation knew,
• said unto me: “Behold the fierce Erìnyes!
• This is Megaera here upon the left;
• Alecto, she who weepeth on the right;
• Tisìphonë’s between.” Thereat he ceased.

• Each with her nails was tearing at her breast;
• they smote them with their hands, and cried so loud,
• that to the Poet I drew close in dread.
• “Now let Medusa come! We ’ll turn him thus
• to stone!” they all cried out, as down they looked;
• “wrong were we not to punish Theseus’ raid.”

• “Turn back, and close thine eyes, for should the Gorgon
• reveal itself, and thou behold the face,
• there ’d be no more returning up above.”
• The Teacher thus: and turning me himself,
• on my hands he did not so far rely,
• as not to close mine eyes with his as well.

• O ye in whom intelligence is sound,
• heed carefully the teaching which lies hidden
• beneath the veil of my mysterious lines!

• There now was coming o’er the turbid waves
• the uproar of a dread-inspiring sound,
• because of which both shores were all aquake,
• a noise like nothing other than a wind,
• impetuous through opposing heats, which smites
• a forest, and without the least restraint
• shatters, lays low, and carries off its boughs;
• dust-laden it goes proudly on its way,
• and makes wild animals and shepherds flee.

• He freed mine eyes, and said: “Direct thou now
• thy keenest vision o’er that ancient scum,
• to where that reeking smoke is most intense.”

• As frogs before the hostile water-snake
• scatter in all directions through the water,
• till each is squatting huddled on the shore;
• more than a thousand ruined souls I saw,
• who thus from one were fleeing, who on foot,
• but with dry feet, was passing over Styx.
• That dense air he kept moving from his face
• by often passing his left hand before him,
• and only with that trouble weary seemed.
• I well perceived he was a Messenger
• from Heaven, and to my Teacher turned; with signs
• he warned me to keep still, and bow before him.
• Ah, how disdainful did he seem to me!
• He reached the gate, and with a little wand
• he opened it, for hindrance had he none.

• “O people thrust from Heaven and held in scorn,”
• upon the horrid threshold he began,
• “whence dwells in you this overweening pride?
• Why is it that ye kick against the Will,
• from which its end can never be cut off,
• and which hath more than once increased your pain?
• Of what avail to butt against the Fates?
• Your Cerberus, if ye remember well,
• still sports for this a hairless chin and neck.”

• He then returned along the filthy road,
• nor did he say a word to us; but looked
• like one whom other cares constrain and gnaw,

• than that of him who in his presence is;
• then we with full assurance toward the town,
• after those holy words, addressed our steps.

• We entered it without the least contention;
• and I, who longed to look about and see
• the state of those whom such a fortress holds,
• when I was in it, cast mine eyes around,
• and see on every side an ample plain,
• with anguish and with awful torture filled.

• Even as at Arles, where marshy turns the Rhone,
• or as at Pola near Quarnaro’s gulf,
• which bounds Italia, and her border bathes,
• the sepulchres make all the ground uneven;
• so likewise did they here on every side,
• save that their nature was more bitter here;
• for flames were spread about within the tombs,
• whereby they glowed with such intensity,
• that no art needeth greater heat for iron.
• The lids of all of them were raised, and wails
• so woeful issued thence, that of a truth
• they seemed the wails of wretched, tortured men.

• “Teacher, what sort of people are those there,”
• said I, “who, buried in those arc-like tombs,
• make themselves heard by means of woeful sighs?”

• “Arch-heretics are with their followers here”
• said he, “of every sect, and far more laden
• than thou believest are the sepulchers.

• Here like with like is buried, and more hot
• and less so are the monuments.” Thereat,
• when he had turned him to the right, we passed
• between the woes and lofty bastioned walls.