Classic Poem

CANTO XVIII.

Argument.

The two first valleys of Malebolge; in one of which are punished seducers; in the other, flatterers.

T HERE is a place within the depths of Hell,
Call'd Malibolgi; form'd of darksome stone
Ferruginous, like that which bounds it well.
And aye, in midst of this malignant zone,
There yawns a wide and dreadful gulf profound,
Which my discourse shall in good time make known.
The border that remains still circles round,
Between the gulf and where the ramparts rise:
Ten diverse valleys in its depths are found,
As when, to guard some castle-walls, there lies
Fosse within fosse, in duly order'd rank,
And narrowing circuit; in the selfsame guise
And image here in the far depths they sank:
And ev'n as from the gate are bridges flung,
Spanning each moat, unto the further bank;
Thus from the summit slender archways hung,
That cut each ditch and margin, till the black
Abyss did wholly gather them in one.
We on this spot were cast from the huge back
Of Geryon; then the Poet turn'd his feet
Unto the left, I follow'd in his track.
At the right hand new sorrows did we meet,
New fiend-tormentors, and new agonies,
Wherewith the first sad valley was replete.
The sinful souls within that dire abyss
Were naked; half toward us came; the rest,
With us, but swifter were their steps, I wis.
As when the Romans (because all too vast
Their multitude, the year of Jubilee)
The bridge in twofold line and order pass'd;
And, thus divided, on one side they see
The castle, and towards St. Peter's go,
And turn'd towards the mount the others be
Around, upon those rocks of darksome glow,
I hornid demons saw, with scourges arm'd,
Who dealt those sinners many a cruel blow.
Ah me! how swiftly fled they thence, alarm'd,
At the first stroke! And for the second, none
Did wait, nor for the third. The while, unharm'd
I went my way, mine eyes did light on one
Among those weary souls; wherefore I said:
" Surely it is not now I have begun
To see this man. " My footsteps then I stay'd,
And my good Master with me did abide,
And gave me leave to linger. And the Shade,
Sore-scourgid, thought his misery to hide,
Bending his head, but nought did it avail;
Because I said: " Thou, who dost turn aside
With downcast eyes, if true thy features' tale,
Art Venedico Caccianemico hight.
What crime leads thee where sharpest whips prevail? "
And he to me: " Against my will aright
I speak; for thy clear accents bring again
The memories of those old days to light.
'Twas I who beauteous Ghisola did gain,
And to the Marquis led her for her shame,
As tells the history in evil strain.
Nor only I do wear Bologna's name,
In this abode; her citizens are here,
In such great multitude, that fewer frame
Their tongues 'twixt Reno and Savena fair,
Where Yes in their discourse is Sipa call'd:
And, wouldst have proof of that which I declare,
Recall our avarice. " But now, behold,
A demon struck him, saying: " Wretch, away,
Here are no women to be bought and sold. "
No longer now did I my footsteps stay,
But by my Master's side pass'd on to where
There sprang from out the wall a narrow way.
Lightly we mounted on this archid stair,
And, to the right hand turning, on its height
Our ceaseless circuit ended. And when there
In the deep gulf the scourged ones met my sight,
Still hunted to and fro with mournful moan,
My Leader said: " Now fix thine eyes aright
Upon those spirits who are still unknown
To thee, nor yet hast thou beheld their face;
For in like course with ours their steps have gone. "
Then from that ancient bridge, upon the trace
We gazed of the approaching mournful band,
Whom, in the self-same guise, the scourge did chase.
And Virgil spake, nor waited my demand:
" Behold yon mighty one, whom torment sore
Bows not to weep; and still, on this sad strand,
How royal the mien he weareth, as of yore!
That Shade is Jason, who, by strength and guile,
Long since the golden fleece from Colchis bore.
He on his journey pass'd by Lemnos' isle,
After the bold and ruthless women slew
Each male inhabitant: with many a wile,
Unto himself Hypsipyli he drew,
Deceiving thus the maiden young and fair,
Who erst deceived the others. Then anew,
Leaving her all alone and pregnant there,
He fled: such guilt condemns him to such pain;
And eke Medea's vengeance he doth bear.
With him are those who wear an equal stain:
Enough be this of the first vale to know,
And of the souls its circuit doth contain.
And now we by the narrow pathway go,
Until it tow'rds another wall did turn,
Whence it once more an archid span doth throw.
And there we heard the voice of those who mourn,
Down in the deep abyss, with pantings sore,
And smite themselves. The sides of this sad bourne
With filthy mould were grimed and plaster'd o'er
By the rank breath ascending from the deep,
Which unto eyes and nose foul horrors bore.
So dark the gloom which doth this valley steep,
That to behold its depths we needs must go
Where highest springs the slender archway's leap.
And thence we saw, in the dim fosse below,
Some who were stifled in foul ordure dank,
Which seem'd from human filthiness to flow.
One, while my searching eyes still downward sank,
I saw; but yet by none might be descried,
If priest or layman were on earth his rank,
So foul his head with slime. To me he cried:
" Why dost thou gaze intently on me, more
Than on my fellows? " And I thus replied:
" Since, if I err not, with dry locks of yore
I thee have seen; from Lucca thou art sprung;
Interminei the name thy kindred bore;
Thyself Alessio: thus mine eyes have hung
More fixidly on thee. " He spake again:
" Here am I plunged by my false flattering tongue,
That ne'er with lies was weary. " And for pain
He beat his brow; and then my Leader said:
" A little bend, that so thou mayst attain
To see yon slut with foul, dishevell'd head,
Scratching herself with filthy fingers sore,
Who now doth crouch, and upright now is stay'd.
That is the harlot Thais, who of yore,
When by her lover ask'd if he found grace
With her, said: " E'en surpassingly." No more
Here let us seek to know of this most evil place. "