The Divine Comedy (Illustrated Edition). Dante Alighieri

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      Forthwith that image vile of fraud appear’d,

      His head and upper part expos’d 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 armpits, 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 ofttimes 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 fenc’d 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 shap’d, and, better to escape the flame

      And burning marle, ten paces on the verge

      Proceeded. Soon as we to him arrive,

      A little further on mine eye beholds

      A tribe of spirits, seated on the sand

      Near the wide chasm. 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 pac’d

      Of that seventh circle, where the mournful tribe

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

      Against the vapours 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 perceiv’d,

That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch2

      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 purse3 I saw with azure wrought,

      That wore a lion’s countenance and port.

      Then still my sight pursuing its career,

Another4 I beheld, than blood more red.

      A goose display of whiter wing than curd.

And one, who bore a fat and azure swine5

      Pictur’d on his white scrip, addressed me thus:

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

      Since yet thou livest, that my neighbour here

Vitaliano6 on my left shall sit.

      A Paduan with these Florentines am I.

      Ofttimes they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming

“O haste that noble knight!7 he who the pouch

      With the three beaks will bring!” This said, he writh’d

      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.

      My guide already seated on the haunch

      Of the fierce animal I found; and thus

      He me encourag’d. “Be thou stout; be bold.

      Down such a steep flight must we now descend!

      Mount thou before: for that no power the tail