Excerpt
CANTO III
"THROUGH me you pass into the city of woe:Through me you pass into eternal pain:Through me among the people lost for aye.Justice the founder of my fabric mov'd:To rear me was the task of power divine,Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.Before me things create were none, save thingsEternal, and eternal I endure."All hope abandon ye who enter here."Such characters in colour dim I mark'dOver a portal's lofty arch inscrib'd:Whereat I thus: "Master, these words importHard meaning." He as one prepar'd replied:"Here thou must all distrust behind thee leave;Here be vile fear extinguish'd. We are comeWhere I have told thee we shall see the soulsTo misery doom'd, who intellectual goodHave lost." And when his hand he had stretch'd forthTo mine, with pleasant looks, whence I was cheer'd,Into that secret place he led me on.Here sighs with lamentations and loud moansResounded through the air pierc'd by no star,That e'en I wept at entering. Various tongues,Horrible languages, outcries of woe,Accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse,With hands together smote that swell'd the sounds,Made up a tumult, that for ever whirlsRound through that air with solid darkness stain'd,Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies.I then, with error yet encompass'd, cried:"O master! What is this I hear? What raceAre these, who seem so overcome with woe?"He thus to me: "This miserable fateSuffer the wretched souls of those, who liv'dWithout or praise or blame, with that ill bandOf angels mix'd, who nor rebellious prov'dNor yet were true to God, but for themselvesWere only. From his bounds Heaven drove them forth,Not to impair his lustre, nor the depthOf Hell receives them, lest th' accursed tribeShould glory thence with exultation vain."I then: "Master! what doth aggrieve them thus,That they lament so loud?" He straight replied:"That will I tell thee briefly. These of deathNo hope may entertain: and their blind lifeSo meanly passes, that all other lotsThey envy. Fame of them the world hath none,Nor suffers; mercy and justice scorn them both.Speak not of them, but look, and pass them by."And I, who straightway look'd, beheld a flag,Which whirling ran around so rapidly,That it no pause obtain'd: and following cameSuch a long train of spirits, I should ne'erHave thought, that death so many had despoil'd.When some of these I recogniz'd, I sawAnd knew the shade of him, who to base fearYielding, abjur'd his high estate. ForthwithI understood for certain this the tribeOf those ill spirits both to God displeasingAnd to his foes. These wretches, who ne'er lived,Went on in nakedness, and sorely stungBy wasps and hornets, which bedew'd their cheeksWith blood, that mix'd with tears dropp'd to their feet,And by disgustful worms was gather'd there.Then looking farther onwards I beheldA throng upon the shore of a great stream:Whereat I thus: "Sir! grant me now to knowWhom here we view, and whence impell'd they seemSo eager to pass o'er, as I discernThrough the blear light?" He thus to me in few:"This shalt thou know, soon as our steps arriveBeside the woeful tide of Acheron."Then with eyes downward cast and fill'd with shame,Fearing my words offensive to his ear,Till we had reach'd the river, I from speechAbstain'd....