The Divine Comedy (Illustrated Edition). Dante Alighieri

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      Canto VIII

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      ARGUMENT.—A signal having been made from the tower, Phlegyas, the ferryman of the lake, speedily crosses it, and conveys Virgil and Dante to the other side. On their passage, they meet with Filippo Argenti, whose fury and torment are described. They then arrive at the city of Dis, the entrance whereto is denied, and the portals closed against them by many Demons.

      MY theme pursuing, I relate that ere

      We reach’d the lofty turret’s base, our eyes

      Its height ascended, where two cressets hung

      We mark’d, and from afar another light

      Return the signal, so remote, that scarce

      The eye could catch its beam. I turning round

      To the deep source of knowledge, thus inquir’d:

      “Say what this means? and what that other light

      In answer set? what agency doth this?”

      “There on the filthy waters,” he replied,

      “E’en now what next awaits us mayst thou see,

      If the marsh-gender’d fog conceal it not.”

      Never was arrow from the cord dismiss’d,

      That ran its way so nimbly through the air,

      As a small bark, that through the waves I spied

      Toward us coming, under the sole sway

      Of one that ferried it, who cried aloud:

“Art thou arriv’d, fell spirit?” — “Phlegyas, Phlegyas,1

      This time thou criest in vain,” my lord replied;

      “No longer shalt thou have us, but while o’er

      The slimy pool we pass.” As one who hears

      Of some great wrong he hath sustain’d, whereat

      Inly he pines; so Phlegyas inly pin’d

      In his fierce ire. My guide descending stepp’d

      Into the skiff, and bade me enter next

      Close at his side; nor till my entrance seem’d

      The vessel freighted. Soon as both embark’d,

      Cutting the waves, goes on the ancient prow,

      More deeply than with others it is wont.

      While we our course o’er the dead channel held.

      One drench’d in mire before me came, and said;

      “Who art thou, that thou comest ere thine hour?”

      I answer’d: “Though I come, I tarry not;

      But who art thou, that art become so foul?”

      “One, as thou seest, who mourn: “ he straight replied.

      To which I thus: “ In mourning and in woe,

      Curs’d spirit! tarry thou. I know thee well,

      E’en thus in filth disguis’d.” Then stretch’d he forth

      Hands to the bark; whereof my teacher sage

      Aware, thrusting him back: “Away! down there

      To the’ other dogs!” then, with his arms my neck

      Encircling, kiss’d my cheek, and spake: “O soul

      Justly disdainful! blest was she in whom

      Thou was conceiv’d! He in the world was one

      For arrogance noted; to his memory

      No virtue lends its lustre; even so

      Here is his shadow furious. There above

      How many now hold themselves mighty kings

      Who here like swine shall wallow in the mire,

      Leaving behind them horrible dispraise!”

      I then: “Master! him fain would I behold

      Whelm’d in these dregs, before we quit the lake.”

      He thus: “Or ever to thy view the shore

      Be offer’d, satisfied shall be that wish,

      Which well deserves completion.” Scarce his words

      Were ended, when I saw the miry tribes

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