| |
| THE PLACE, where to descend the precipice | |
| We came, was rough as Alp; and on its verge | |
| Such object lay, as every eye would shun. | |
| As is that ruin, which Adice’s stream 1 | |
| On this side Trento struck, shouldering the wave, | 5 |
| Or loosed by earthquake or for lack of prop; | |
| For from the mountain’s summit, whence it moved | |
| To the low level, so the headlong rock | |
| Is shiver’d, that some passage it might give | |
| To him who from above would pass; e’en such | 10 |
| Into the chasm was that descent: and there | |
| At point of the disparted ridge lay stretch’d | |
| The infamy of Crete, 2 detested brood | |
| Of the feign’d heifer: 3 and at sight of us | |
| It gnaw’d itself, as one with rage distract. | 15 |
| To him my guide exclaim’d: “Perchance thou deem’st | |
| The King of Athens 4 here, who, in the world | |
| Above, thy death contrived. Monster! avaunt! | |
| He comes not tutor’d by thy sister’s art, 5 | |
| But to behold your torments is he come.” | 20 |
| Like to a bull, that with impetuous spring | |
| Darts, at the moment when the fatal blow | |
| Hath struck him, but unable to proceed | |
| Plunges on either side; so saw I plunge | |
| The Minotaur; whereat the sage exclaim’d: | 25 |
| “Run to the passage! while he storms, ’tis well | |
| That thou descend.” Thus down our road we took | |
| Through those dilapidated crags, that oft | |
| Moved underneath my feet, to weight like theirs | |
| Unused. I pondering went, and thus he spake: | 30 |
| “Perhaps thy thoughts are of this ruin’d steep, | |
| Guarded by the brute violence, which I | |
| Have vanguish’d now. Know then, that when I erst | |
| Hither descended to the nether Hell, | |
| This rock was not yet fallen. But past doubt, | 35 |
| (If well I mark) not long ere He arrived, 6 | |
| Who carried off from Dis the mighty spoil | |
| Of the highest circle, then through all its bounds | |
| Such trembling seized the deep concave and foul, | |
| I thought the universe was thrill’d with love, | 40 |
| Whereby, there are who deem, the world hath oft | |
| Been into chaos turn’d: and in that point, | |
| Here, and elsewhere, that old rock toppled down. | |
| But fix thine eyes beneath: the river of blood | |
| Approaches, in the which all those are steep’d, | 45 |
| Who have by violence injured.” O blind lust! | |
| O foolish wrath! who so dost goad us on | |
| In the brief like, and in the eternal then | |
| Thus miserably o’erwhelm us. I beheld | |
| An ample foss, that in a bow was bent, | 50 |
| As circling all the plain; for so my guide | |
| Had told. Between it and the rampart’s base, | |
| On trail ran Centaurs, with keen arrows arm’d, | |
| As to the chase they on the earth were wont. | |
| At seeing us descend they each one stood; | 55 |
| And issuing from the troop, three sped with bows | |
| And missile weapons chosen first; of whom | |
| One cried from far: “Say, to what pain ye come | |
| Condemn’d, who down this steep have journey’d. Speak | |
| From whence ye stand, or else the bow I draw.” | 60 |
| To whom my guide: “Our answer shall be made | |
| To Chiron, there, when nearer him we come. | |
| Ill was thy mind, thus ever quick and rash.” | |
| Then me he touch’d and spake: “Nessus is this, | |
| Who for the fair Deïanira died, | 65 |
| And wrought himself revenge 7 or his own fate. | |
| He in the midst, that on his breast looks down, | |
| Is the great Chiron who Achilles nursed; | |
| That other, Pholus, prone to wrath.” Around | |
| The foss these go by thousands, aiming shafts | 70 |
| At whatsoever spirit dares emerge | |
| From out the blood, more than his guilt allows. | |
| We to those beasts, that rapid strode along, | |
| Drew near; when Chiron took an arrow forth, | |
| And with the notch push’d back his shaggy beard | 75 |
| To the cheek-bone, then, his great mouth to view | |
| Exposing, to his fellows thus exclaim’d: | |
| “Are ye aware, that he who comes behind | |
| Moves what he touches? The feet of the dead | |
| Are not so wont.” My trusty guide, who now | 80 |
| Stood near his breast, where the two natures join, | |
| Thus made reply: “He is indeed alive, | |
| And solitary so must needs by me | |
| Be shown the gloomy vale, thereto induced | |
| By strict necessity, not by delight. | 85 |
| She left her joyful harpings in the sky, | |
| Who this new office to my care consign’d. | |
| He is no robber, no dark spirit I. | |
| But by that virtue, which empowers my step | |
| To tread so wild a path, grant us, I pray, | 90 |
| One of thy band, whom we may trust secure, | |
| Who to the ford may lead us, and convey | |
| Across, him mounted on his back; for he | |
| Is not a spirit that may walk the air.” | |
| Then on his right breast turning, Chiron thus | 95 |
| To Nessus spake: “Return, and be their guide. | |
| And if ye chance to cross another troop, | |
| Command them keep aloof.” Onward we moved, | |
| The faithful escort by our side, along | |
| The border of the crimson-seething flood, | 100 |
| Whence, from those steep’d within, loud shrieks arose. | |
| Some there I mark’d, as high as to their brow | |
| Immersed, of whom the mighty Centaur thus: | |
| “These are the souls of tyrants, who were given | |
| To blood and rapine. Here they wail aloud | 105 |
| Their merciless wrongs. Here Alexander dwells, | |
| And Dionysius fell, who many a year | |
| Of woe wrought for fair Sicily. That brow, | |
| Whereon the hair so jetty clustering hangs, | |
| Is Azzolino; 8 that with flaxen locks | 110 |
| Obizzo 9 of Este, in the world destroy’d | |
| By his foul step-son.” To the bard revered | |
| I turn’d me round, and thus he spake: “Let him | |
| Be to thee now first leader, me but next | |
| To him in rank.” Then further on a space | 115 |
| The Centaur paused, near some, who at the throat | |
| Were extant from the wave; and, showing us | |
| A spirit by itself apart retired, | |
| Exclaim’d: “He 10 in God’s bosom smote the heart, | |
| Which yet is honored on the bank of Thames.” | 120 |
| A race I next espied who held the head, | |
| And even all the bust, above the stream. | |
| ’Midst these I many a face remember’d well. | |
| Thus shallow more and more the blood became, | |
| So that at last it but imbrued the feet; | 125 |
| And there our passage lay athwart the foss. | |
| “As ever on this side the boiling wave | |
| Thou seest diminishing,” the Centaur said, | |
| “So on the other, be thou well assured, | |
| It lower still and lower sinks its bed, | 130 |
| Till in that part it reuniting join, | |
| Where ’tis the lot of tyranny to mourn. | |
| There Heaven’s stern justice lays chastising hand | |
| On Attila, who was the scourge of earth, | |
| On Sextus and on Pyrrhus, 11 and extracts | 135 |
| Tears ever by the seething flood unlock’d | |
| From the Rinieri, of Corneto this, | |
| Pazzo the other named, 12 who fill’d the ways | |
| With violence and war.” This said, he turn’d, | |
| And quitting us, alone repass’d the ford. | 140 |
