Harvard Classics Volume 20. Golden Deer Classics

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СКАЧАТЬ which bedew’d their cheeks

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

      And by disgustful worms was gather’d there.

      Then looking further onwards, I beheld

      A throng upon the shore of a great stream:

      Whereat I thus: “Sir! grant me now to know

      Whom here we view, and whence impell’d they seem

      So eager to pass o’er, as I discern

      Through the blear light?” He thus to me in few:

      “This shalt thou know, soon as our steps arrive

      Beside the woful tide of Acheron.”

      Then with eyes downward cast, and fill’d with shame,

      Fearing my words offensive to his ear,

      Till we had reach’d the river, I from speech

      Abstain’d. And lo! toward us in a bark

      Comes on an old man, hoary white with eld,

      Crying, “Woe to you, wicked spirits! hope not

      Ever to see the sky again. I come

      To take you to the other shore across,

      Into eternal darkness, there to dwell

      In fierce heat and in ice. And thou, who there

      Standest, live spirit! get thee hence, and leave

      These who are dead.” But soon as he beheld

      I left them not, “By other way,” said he,

      “By other haven shalt thou come to shore,

      Not by this passage; thee a nimbler boat

      Must carry.” Then to him thus spake my guide:

      “Charon! thyself torment not: so ’tis will’d,

      Where will and power are one: ask thou no more.”

      Straightway in silence fell the shaggy cheeks

      Of him, the boatman o’er the livid lake,

      Around whose eyes glared wheeling flames. Meanwhile

      Those spirits, faint and naked, color changed,

      And gnash’d their teeth, soon as the cruel words

      They heard. God and their parents they blasphemed,

      The human kind, the place, the time, and seed,

      That did engender them and give them birth,

      Then all together sorely wailing drew

      To the curst strand, that every man must pass

      Who fears not God. Charon, demoniac form,

      With eyes of burning coal, collects them all,

      Beckoning, and each, that lingers, with his oar

      Strikes. As fall off the light autumnal leaves

      One still another following, till the bough

      Strews all its honours on the earth beneath;

      E’en in like manner Adam’s evil brood

      Cast themselves, one by one, down from the shore,

      Each at a beck, as falcon at his call.^[21]

      Thus go they over through the umber’d wave;

      And ever they on the opposing bank

      Be landed, on this side another throng

      Still gathers. “Son,” thus spake the courteous guide,

      “Those who die subject to the wrath of God

      All here together come from every clime

      And to o’erpass the river are not loth:

      For so Heaven’s justice goads them on, that fear

      Is turn’d into desire. Hence ne’er hath past

      Good spirit. If of thee Charon complain,

      Now mayst thou know the import of his words.”

      This said, the gloomy region trembling shook

      So terribly, that yet with clammy dews

      Fear chills my brow. The sad earth gave a blast,

      That, lightening, shot forth a vermilion flame,

      Which all my senses conquer’d quite, and I

      Down dropp’d, as one with sudden slumber seized.

Canto IV

      Argument.—The Poet, being roused by a clap of thunder, and following his guide onward, descends into Limbo, which is the first circle of Hell, where he finds the souls of those, who although they have lived virtuously and have not to suffer for great sins, nevertheless, through lack of baptism, merit not the bliss of Paradise. Hence he is led on by Virgil to descend into the second circle.

      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 thunderous 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 СКАЧАТЬ