I say, continuing, To its foundations we approachÈd nigh Our eyes went travelling to the top of the tower; For, hung out there, two flames Then at such distance, scarce our eyesight made It clearly out, another gave reply. And, to the Sea of Knowledge turned, I said: ‘What meaneth this? and what reply would yield That other light, and who have it displayed?’ ‘Thou shouldst upon the impure watery field,’ He said, ‘already what approaches know, But that the fen-fog holds it still concealed.’ Never was arrow yet from sharp-drawn bow Than what I saw a tiny vessel show, Across the water shooting into sight; A single pilot served it for a crew, Who shouted: ‘Art thou come, thou guilty sprite?’ ‘O Phlegyas, Phlegyas, For once,’ my Lord said, ‘idle is and vain. Thou hast us only till the mud we’re through.’ And, as one cheated inly smarts with pain When the deceit wrought on him is betrayed, His gathering ire could Phlegyas scarce contain. Into the bark my Leader stepped, and made Me take my place beside him; nor a jot, Till I had entered, was it downward weighed. Soon as my Guide and I were in the boat, To cleave the flood began the ancient prow, Deeper Then, as the stagnant ditch we glided through, One smeared with filth in front of me arose And said: ‘Thus coming ere thy period, Art thou?’ And I: ‘As one who forthwith goes I come; but thou defiled, how name they thee?’ ‘I am but one who weeps,’ AccursÈd soul, remain; for thou art known Unto me now, all filthy though thou be.’ Then both his hands were on the vessel thrown; But him my wary Master backward heaved, Saying: ‘Do thou ’mong the other dogs be gone!’ Then to my neck with both his arms he cleaved, And kissed my face, and, ‘Soul disdainful,’ ‘O blessed she in whom thou wast conceived! He in the world great haughtiness displayed. No deeds of worth his memory adorn; And therefore rages here his sinful shade. And many are there by whom crowns are worn On earth, shall wallow here like swine in mire, Leaving behind them names o’erwhelmed And I: ‘O Master, I have great desire To see him well soused in this filthy tide, Ere from the lake we finally retire.’ And he: ‘Or ever shall have been descried The shore by thee, thy longing shall be met; For such a wish were justly gratified.’ A little after in such fierce onset The miry people down upon him bore, I praise and bless God for it even yet. ‘Philip Argenti! Turned with his teeth upon himself and tore. Here was he left, nor wins more words of mine. Now in my ears a lamentation rung, Whence I to search what lies ahead begin. And the good Master told me: ‘Son, ere long We to the city called of Dis Where in great armies cruel burghers And I: ‘Already, Master, I appear Mosques Vermilion, as if they from furnace were Within them, whence appear they glowing hot, As thou discernest in this lower hell.’ We to the moat profound at length were brought, Which girds that city all disconsolate; The walls around it seemed of iron wrought. Not without fetching first a compass great, We came to where with angry cry at last: ‘Get out,’ the boatman yelled; ‘behold the gate!’ |