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him, who so much loved thee, as to leave

      For thy sake all the multitude admires?

      Dost thou not hear how pitiful his wail,

      Nor mark the death, which in the torrent flood,

      Swoln mightier than a sea, him struggling holds?”

      Ne’er among men did any with such speed

      Haste to their profit, flee from their annoy,

      As, when these words were spoken, I came here,

      Down from my blessed seat, trusting the force

      Of thy pure eloquence, which thee, and all

      Who well have mark’d it, into honor brings.’

      “When she had ended, her bright beaming eyes

      Tearful she turn’d aside; whereat I felt

      Redoubled zeal to serve thee. As she will’d,

      Thus am I come: I saved thee from the beast,

      Who thy near way across the goodly mount

      Prevented. What is this comes o’er thee than?

      Why, why dost thou hang back? why in thy breast

      Harbour vile fear? why hast not courage there,

      And noble daring; since three maids,^[18] so blest,

      Thy safety plan, e’en in the court of Heaven;

      And so much certain good my words forebode?”

      As florets, by the frosty air of night

      Bent down and closed, when day has blanch’d their leaves,

      Rise all unfolded on their spiry stems;

      So was my fainting vigor new restored,

      And to my heart such kindly courage ran,

      That I as one undaunted soon replied:

      “O full of pity she, who undertook

      My succour! and thou kind, who didst perform

      So soon her true behest! With such desire

      Thou hast disposed me to renew my voyage,

      That my first purpose fully is resumed.

      Lead on: one only will is in us both.

      Thou art my guide, my master thou, and lord,”

      So spake I; and when he had onward moved,

      I enter’d on the deep and woody way.

Canto III

      Argument.—Dante, following Virgil, comes to the gate of Hell; where, after having read the dreadful words that are written thereon, they both enter. Here, as he understands from Virgil, those were punished who had passed their time (for living it could not be called) in a state of apathy and indifference both to good and evil. Then, pursuing their way, they arrive at the river Acheron; and there find the old ferryman Charon, who takes the spirits over to the opposite shore; which, as soon as Dante reaches, he is seized with terror, and falls into a trance.

      “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 moved:

      To rear me was the task of Power divine,

      Supremest Wisdom, and primeval Love.^[19]

      Before me things create were none, save things

      Eternal, and eternal I endure.

      All hope abandon, ye who enter here.”

      Such characters, in color dim, I mark’d

      Over a portal’s lofty arch inscribed.

      Whereat I thus: “Master, these words import

      Hard meaning.” He as one prepared replied:

      “Here thou must all distrust behind thee leave;

      Here be vile fear extinguish’d. We are come

      Where I have told thee we shall see the souls

      To misery doom’d, who intellectual good

      Have lost.” And when his hand he had stretch’d forth

      To mine, with pleasant looks, whence I was cheer’d,

      Into that secret place he led me on.

      Here sighs, with lamentations and loud moans,

      Resounded through the air pierced 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 forever whirls

      Round through that air with solid darkness stain’d,

      Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies.

      I then, with horror yet encompast, cried:

      “O master! what is this I hear? what race

      Are these, who seem so overcome with woe?”

      He thus to me: “This miserable fate

      Suffer the wretched souls of those, who lived

      Without or praise or blame, with that ill band

      Of angels mix’d, who nor rebellious proved,

      Nor yet were true to God, but for themselves

      Were only. From his bounds Heaven drove them forth

      Not to impair his lustre; nor the depth

      Of Hell receives them, lest the accursed tribe

      Should 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 death

      No hope may entertain: and their blind life

      So meanly passes, that all other lots

      They 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 came

      Such a long train of spirits, I should ne’er

      Have thought that death so many had despoil’d.

      When some of these I recognized, I saw

      And knew the shade of him, who to base fear^[20]

      Yielding, abjured his high estate. Forthwith

      I understood, for certain, this the tribe

      Of those ill spirits both to God displeasing

      And to His foes. These wretches, who ne’er lived,

      Went on in nakedness, and sorely stung

      By wasps and hornets, which bedew’d their cheeks

      With blood, that, mix’d with tears, dropp’d to their

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