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bard I clung, suspicion-bound.

      “Hasten Medusa: so to adamant

      Him shall we change;” all looking down exclaim’d.

      “E’en when by Theseus’ might assail’d, we took

      No ill revenge.” “Turn thyself round, and keep

      Thy count’nance hid; for if the Gorgon dire

      Be shown, and thou shouldst view it, thy return

      Upwards would be for ever lost.” This said,

      Himself my gentle master turn’d me round,

      Nor trusted he my hands, but with his own

      He also hid me. Ye of intellect

Sound and entire, mark well the lore3 conceal’d

      Under close texture of the mystic strain!

      And now there came o’er the perturbed waves

      Loud-crashing, terrible, a sound that made

      Either shore tremble, as if of a wind

      Impetuous, from conflicting vapours sprung,

      That ’gainst some forest driving all its might,

      Plucks off the branches, beats them down and hurls

      Afar; then onward passing proudly sweeps

      Its whirlwind rage, while beasts and shepherds fly.

      Mine eyes he loos’d, and spake: “And now direct

      Thy visual nerve along that ancient foam,

      There, thickest where the smoke ascends.” As frogs

      Before their foe the serpent, through the wave

      Ply swiftly all, till at the ground each one

      Lies on a heap; more than a thousand spirits

      Destroy’d, so saw I fleeing before one

      Who pass’d with unwet feet the Stygian sound.

      He, from his face removing the gross air,

      Oft his left hand forth stretch’d, and seem’d alone

      By that annoyance wearied. I perceiv’d

      That he was sent from heav’n, and to my guide

      Turn’d me, who signal made that I should stand

      Quiet, and bend to him. Ah me! how full

      Of noble anger seem’d he! To the gate

      He came, and with his wand touch’d it, whereat

      Open without impediment it flew.

      “Outcasts of heav’n! O abject race and scorn’d!”

      Began he on the horrid grunsel standing,

      “Whence doth this wild excess of insolence

      Lodge in you? wherefore kick you ’gainst that will

      Ne’er frustrate of its end, and which so oft

      Hath laid on you enforcement of your pangs?

      What profits at the fays to but the horn?

Your Cerberus,4 if ye remember, hence

      Bears still, peel’d of their hair, his throat and maw.”

      This said, he turn’d back o’er the filthy way,

      And syllable to us spake none, but wore

      The semblance of a man by other care

      Beset, and keenly press’d, than thought of him

      Who in his presence stands. Then we our steps

      Toward that territory mov’d, secure

      After the hallow’d words. We unoppos’d

      There enter’d; and my mind eager to learn

      What state a fortress like to that might hold,

      I soon as enter’d throw mine eye around,

      And see on every part wide-stretching space

      Replete with bitter pain and torment ill.

As where Rhone stagnates on the plains of Arles,5

Or as at Pola,6 near Quarnaro’s gulf,

      That closes Italy and laves her bounds,

      The place is all thick spread with sepulchres;

      So was it here, save what in horror here

      Excell’d: for ’midst the graves were scattered flames,

      Wherewith intensely all throughout they burn’d,

      That iron for no craft there hotter needs.

      Their lids all hung suspended, and beneath

      From them forth issu’d lamentable moans,

      Such as the sad and tortur’d well might raise.

      I thus: “Master! say who are these, interr’d

      Within these vaults, of whom distinct we hear

      The dolorous sighs?” He answer thus return’d:

      “The arch-heretics are here, accompanied

      By every sect their followers; and much more,

      Than thou believest, tombs are freighted: like

      With like is buried; and the monuments

      Are different in degrees of heat. “This said,

      He to the right hand turning, on we pass’d

      Betwixt the afflicted and the ramparts high.

      Footnotes

1 “The hue,” Virgil, perceiving that Dante was pale with fear, restrained those outward tokens of displeasure which his own countenance had betrayed.

2 Erichtho, a Thessalian sorceress (Lucan, “Pharsal.” 1. vi.), was employed by Sextus, son of Pompey the Great, to conjure up a spirit, who should inform him of the issue of the civil wars between his father and Cæsar.

3 The Poet probably intends to call the reader’s attention to the allegorical and mystic sense of the present Canto, and not, as Venturi supposes, to that of the whole work. Landino supposes this hidden meaning to be that in the case of those vices which proceed from intemperance, reason, figured under the person of Virgil, with the ordinary grace of God, may be a sufficient safeguard; but that in the instance of more heinous crimes, such as those we shall hereafter see punished, a special grace, represented by the angel, is requisite for our defence

4 “Your Cerberus.” Cerberus is feigned

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