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Inferno
Inferno
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Inferno

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Observe the doctrine that conceals itself

Beneath the veil of the mysterious verses!

And now there came across the turbid waves

The clangour of a sound with terror fraught,

Because of which both of the margins trembled;

Not otherwise it was than of a wind

Impetuous on account of adverse heats,

That smites the forest, and, without restraint,

The branches rends, beats down, and bears away;

Right onward, laden with dust, it goes superb,

And puts to flight the wild beasts and the shepherds.

Mine eyes he loosed, and said: “Direct the nerve

Of vision now along that ancient foam,

There yonder where that smoke is most intense.”

Even as the frogs before the hostile serpent

Across the water scatter all abroad,

Until each one is huddled in the earth.

More than a thousand ruined souls I saw,

Thus fleeing from before one who on foot

Was passing o’er the Styx with soles unwet.

From off his face he fanned that unctuous air,

Waving his left hand oft in front of him,

And only with that anguish seemed he weary.

Well I perceived one sent from Heaven was he,

And to the Master turned; and he made sign

That I should quiet stand, and bow before him.

Ah! how disdainful he appeared to me!

He reached the gate, and with a little rod

He opened it, for there was no resistance.

“O banished out of Heaven, people despised!”

Thus he began upon the horrid threshold;

“Whence is this arrogance within you couched?

Wherefore recalcitrate against that will,

From which the end can never be cut off,

And which has many times increased your pain?

What helpeth it to butt against the fates?

Your Cerberus, if you remember well,

For that still bears his chin and gullet peeled.”

Then he returned along the miry road,

And spake no word to us, but had the look

Of one whom other care constrains and goads

Than that of him who in his presence is;

And we our feet directed tow’rds the city,

After those holy words all confident.

Within we entered without any contest;

And I, who inclination had to see

What the condition such a fortress holds,

Soon as I was within, cast round mine eye,

And see on every hand an ample plain,

Full of distress and torment terrible.

Even as at Arles, where stagnant grows the Rhone,

Even as at Pola near to the Quarnaro,

That shuts in Italy and bathes its borders,

The sepulchres make all the place uneven;

So likewise did they there on every side,

Saving that there the manner was more bitter;

For flames between the sepulchres were scattered,

By which they so intensely heated were,

That iron more so asks not any art.

All of their coverings uplifted were,

And from them issued forth such dire laments,

Sooth seemed they of the wretched and tormented.

And I: “My Master, what are all those people

Who, having sepulture within those tombs,

Make themselves audible by doleful sighs?”

And he to me: “Here are the Heresiarchs,

With their disciples of all sects, and much

More than thou thinkest laden are the tombs.

Here like together with its like is buried;

And more and less the monuments are heated.”

And when he to the right had turned, we passed

Between the torments and high parapets.

CANTO X (#ulink_9a1c5a1b-765f-5daa-95eb-4d45e4270822)

Now onward goes, along a narrow path

Between the torments and the city wall,

My Master, and I follow at his back.

“O power supreme, that through these impious circles

Turnest me,” I began, “as pleases thee,

Speak to me, and my longings satisfy;

The people who are lying in these tombs,

Might they be seen? already are uplifted

The covers all, and no one keepeth guard.”

And he to me: “They all will be closed up

When from Jehoshaphat they shall return

Here with the bodies they have left above.

Their cemetery have upon this side

With Epicurus all his followers,

Who with the body mortal make the soul;

But in the question thou dost put to me,

Within here shalt thou soon be satisfied,

And likewise in the wish thou keepest silent.”

And I: “Good Leader, I but keep concealed

From thee my heart, that I may speak the less,

Nor only now hast thou thereto disposed me.”

“O Tuscan, thou who through the city of fire

Goest alive, thus speaking modestly,

Be pleased to stay thy footsteps in this place.

Thy mode of speaking makes thee manifest

A native of that noble fatherland,

To which perhaps I too molestful was.”