Harvard Classics Volume 20. Golden Deer Classics

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      The stoutest heart with wonder; in such guise

      As one returns, who hath been down to loose

      An anchor grappled fast against some rock,

      Or to aught else that in the salt wave lies,

      Who, upward springing, close draws in his feet.

Canto XVII

      Argument.—The monster Geryon is described; to whom while Virgil is speaking in order that he may carry them both down to the next circle, Dante, by permission, goes further along the edge of the void, to descry the third species of sinners contained in this compartment, namely, those who have done violence to Art; and then returning to his master, they both descend, seated on the back of Geryon.

      “Lo! the fell monster^[115] with the deadly sting,

      Who passes mountains, breaks through fenced walls

      And firm embattled spears, and with his filth

      Taints all the world.” Thus me my guide address’d,

      And beckon’d him, that he should come to shore,

      Near to the stony causeway’s utmost edge.

      Forthwith that image vile of Fraud appear’d,

      His head and upper part exposed on land,

      But laid not on the shore his bestial train.

      His face the semblance of a just man’s wore,

      So kind and gracious was its outward cheer;

      The rest was serpent all: two shaggy claws

      Reach’d to the arm-pits; and the back and breast,

      And either side, were painted o’er with nodes

      And orbits. Colours variegated more

      Nor Turks nor Tartars e’er on cloth of state

      With interchangeable embroidery wove,

      Nor spread Arachne o’er her curious loom.

      As oft-times a light skiff, moor’d to the shore,

      Stands part in water, part upon the land;

      Or, as where dwells the greedy German boor,

      The beaver settles, watching for his prey;

      So on the rim, that fenced the sand with rock,

      Sat perch’d the fiend of evil. In the void

      Glancing, his tail upturn’d its venomous fork,

      With sting like scorpion’s arm’d. Then thus my guide,

      “Now need our way must turn few steps apart,

      Far as to that ill beast, who couches there.”

      Thereat, toward the right our downward course

      We shaped, and, better to escape the flame

      And burning marle, ten paces on the verge

      Proceeded. Soon as we to him arrive,

      A little farther on mine eye beholds

      A tribe of spirits, seated on the sand

      Near to the void. Forthwith my master spake:

      “That to the full thy knowledge may extend

      Of all this round contains, go now, and mark

      The mien these wear: but hold not long discourse.

      Till thou returnest, I with him meantime

      Will parley, that to us he may vouchsafe

      The aid of his strong shoulders.” Thus alone,

      Yet forward on the extremity I paced

      Of that seventh circle, where the mournful tribe

      Were seated. At the eyes forth gush’d their pangs,

      Against the vapors and the torrid soil

      Alternately their shifting hands they plied.

      Thus use the dogs in summer still to ply

      Their jaws and feet by turns, when bitten sore

      By gnats, or flies, or gadflies swarming round.

      Noting the visages of some, who lay

      Beneath the pelting of that dolorous fire,

      One of them all I knew not; but perceived,

      That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch^[116]

      With colours and with emblems various mark’d,

      On which it seem’d as if their eye did feed.

      And when, amongst them, looking round I came,

      A yellow purse^[117] I saw with azure wrought,

      That wore a lion’s countenance and port.

      Then, still my sight pursuing its career,

      Another^[118] I beheld, than blood more red,

      A goose display of whiter wing than curd.

      And one, who bore a fat and azure swine^[119]

      Pictured on his white scrip, address’d me thus:

      “What dost thou in this deep? Go now and know,

      Since yet thou livest, that my neighbor here

      Vitaliano^[120] on my left shall sit.

      A Paduan with these Florentines am I.

      Oft-times they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming,

      ‘Oh! haste that noble knight,^[121] he who the pouch

      With the three goats will bring.’” This said, he writhed

      The mouth, and loll’d the tongue out, like an ox

      That licks his nostrils. I, lest longer stay

      He ill might brook, who bade me stay not long,

      Backward my steps from those sad spirits turn’d.

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