Canto III Canto V


Inferno: Canto IV

    BROKE the deep slumber in my brain a crash
Of heavy thunder, that I shook myself,
As one by main force roused. Risen upright,
My rested eyes I moved around, and search'd,
With fixed ken, to know what place it was
Wherein I stood. For certain, on the brink
I found me of the lamentable vale,
The dread abyss, that joins a thundrous sound
Of plaints innumerable. Dark and deep,
And thick with clouds o'erspread, mine eye in vain
Explored its bottom, nor could aught discern.

    "Now let us to the blind world there beneath
Descend;" the bard began, all pale of look:
"I go the first, and thou shalt follow next."

     Then I, his alter'd hue perceiving, thus:
"How may I speed, if thou yieldest to dread,
Who still are wont to comfort me in doubt?"

     He then: "The anguish of that race below
With pity stains my cheek, which thou for fear
Mistakest. Let us on. Our length of way
Urges to haste." Onward, this said, he moved;
And entering, led me with him, on the bounds
Of the first circle that surrounds the abyss.

     Here, as mine ear could note, no plaint was heard
Except of sighs, that made the eternal air
Tremble, not caused by tortures, but from grief
Felt by those multitudes, many and vast,
Of men, women, and infants. Then to me
The gentle guide: "Inquirest thou not what spirits
Are these which thou beholdest? Ere thou pass
Farther, I would thou know, that these of sin
Were blameless; and if aught they merited,
It profits not, since baptism was not theirs,
The portal to thy faith. If they before
The Gospel lived, they served not God aright;
And among such am I. For these defects,
And for no other evil, we are lost;
Only so far afflicted, that we live
Desiring without hope." Sore grief assail'd My heart at hearing this, for well I knew Suspended in that Limbo many a soul Of mighty worth. " Oh, tell me, sire revered! Tell me, my master!" I began, through wish Of full assurance in that holy faith Which vanuishes all error; "say, did e'er Any, or through his own or other's merit, Come forth from thence, who afterward was blest?" Piercing the secret purport of my speech, He answer'd: "I was new to that estate, When I beheld a puissant one arrive Amongst us, with victorious trophy crown'd. He forth the shade of our first parent drew, Abel his child, and Noah righteous man, Of Moses lawgiver for faith approved, Of patriarch Abraham, and David king, Israel with his sire and with his sons, Nor without Rachel whom so hard he won, And others many more, whom he to bliss Exalted. Before these, be thou assured, No spirit of human kind was ever saved." We, while he spake, ceased not our onward road, Still passing through the wood; for so I name Those spirits thick beset. We were not far On this side from the summit, when I kenn'd A flame, that o'er the darken'd hemisphere Prevailing shined. Yet we a little space Were distant, not so far but I in part Discover'd that a tribe in honour high That place possessed. "Oh thou, who every art And science valuest! who are these, that boast Such honour, separate from all the rest?" He answer'd: "The renown of their great names, That echoes through your world above, acquires Favour in heaven, which holds them thus advanced." Meantime a voice I heard: " Honour the bard Sublime! his shade returns, that left us late!" No sooner cease the sound, than I beheld Four mighty spirits toward us bend their steps, Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad. When thus my master kind began: "Mark him, Who in his right hand bears that falchion keen, The other three preceding, as their lord. This is that Homer, of all bards supreme: Flaccus, the next, in satire's vein excelling; The third is Naso; Lucan is the last. Because they all that appellation own, With which the voice singly accosted me, Honouring they greet me thus, and well they judge."
So I beheld united the bright school Of him the monarch of sublimest song, That o'er the others like an eagle soars. When they together short discourse had held, They turn'd to me, with salutation kind Beckoning me; at the which my master smiled: Nor was this all; but greater honour still They gave me, for they made me of their tribe; And I was sixth amid so learn'd a band. Far as the luminous beacon on we pass'd, Speaking of matters, then befitting well To speak, now fitter left untold. At foot Of a magnificent castle we arrived, Seven times with lofty walls begirt, and round Defended by a pleasant stream. O'er this As o'er dry land we pass'd. Next, through seven gates, I with those sages enter'd, and we came Into a mead with lively verdure fresh. There dwelt a race, who slow their eyes around Majestically moved, and in their port Bore eminent authority: they spake Seldom, but all their words were tuneful sweet. We to one side retired, into a place Open, and bright, and lofty, whence each one Stood manifest to view. Incontinent, There on the green enamel of the plain Were shown me the great spirits, by whose sight I am exalted in my own esteem. Electra there I saw accompanied By many, among whom Hector I knew, Anchises' pious son, and with hawk's eye Cesar all armed, and by Camilla there Penthesilea. On the other side, Old King Latinus seated by his child Lavinia, and that Brutus I beheld Who Tarquin chased, Lucretia, Cato's wife Marcia, with Julia and Cornelia there; And sole apart retired, the Soldan fierce. Then when a little more I raised my brow, I spied the master of the sapient throng Seated amid the philosophic train. Him all admire, all pay him reverence due. There Socrates and Plato both I mark'd Nearest to him in rank, Democritus, Who sets the world at chance, Diogenes, With Heraclitus, and Empedocles, And Anaxagoras, and Thales sage, Zeno, and Dioscorides well read In Nature's secret lore. Orpheus I mark'd And Linus, Tully and moral Seneca, Euclid and Ptolemy, Hippocrates, Galenus, Avicen, and him who made That commentary vast, Averroes. Of all to speak at full were vain attempt; For my wide theme so urges, that ofttimes My words fall short of what bechanced. In two The six associates part. Another way My sage guide leads me, from that air serene. Into a climate ever vexed with storms: And to a part I come, where no light shines.

Canto III Canto V