CANTO XXXIV“The banners of Hell’s Monarch do come forthTowards us; therefore look,” so spake my guide,“If thou discern him.” As, when breathes a cloudHeavy and dense, or when the shades of nightFall on our hemisphere, seems view’d from farA windmill, which the blast stirs briskly round,Such was the fabric then methought I saw,To shield me from the wind, forthwith I drewBehind my guide: no covert else was there.Now came I (and with fear I bid my strainRecord the marvel) where the souls were allWhelm’d underneath, transparent, as through glassPellucid the frail stem. Some prone were laid,Others stood upright, this upon the soles,That on his head, a third with face to feetArch’d like a bow. When to the point we came,Whereat my guide was pleas’d that I should seeThe creature eminent in beauty once,He from before me stepp’d and made me pause.“Lo!” he exclaim’d, “lo Dis! and lo the place,Where thou hast need to arm thy heart with strength.”How frozen and how faint I then became,Ask me not, reader! for I write it not,Since words would fail to tell thee of my state.I was not dead nor living. Think thyselfIf quick conception work in thee at all,How I did feel. That emperor, who swaysThe realm of sorrow, at mid breast from th’ iceStood forth; and I in stature am more likeA giant, than the giants are in his arms.Mark now how great that whole must be, which suitsWith such a part. If he were beautifulAs he is hideous now, and yet did dareTo scowl upon his Maker, well from himMay all our mis’ry flow. Oh what a sight!How passing strange it seem’d, when I did spyUpon his head three faces: one in frontOf hue vermilion, th’ other two with thisMidway each shoulder join’d and at the crest;The right ’twixt wan and yellow seem’d: the leftTo look on, such as come from whence old NileStoops to the lowlands. Under each shot forthTwo mighty wings, enormous as becameA bird so vast. Sails never such I sawOutstretch’d on the wide sea. No plumes had they,But were in texture like a bat, and theseHe flapp’d i’ th’ air, that from him issued stillThree winds, wherewith Cocytus to its depthWas frozen. At six eyes he wept: the tearsAdown three chins distill’d with bloody foam.At every mouth his teeth a sinner champ’dBruis’d as with pond’rous engine, so that threeWere in this guise tormented. But far moreThan from that gnawing, was the foremost pang’dBy the fierce rending, whence ofttimes the backWas stript of all its skin. “That upper spirit,Who hath worse punishment,” so spake my guide,“Is Judas, he that hath his head withinAnd plies the feet without. Of th’ other two,Whose heads are under, from the murky jawWho hangs, is Brutus: lo! how he doth writheAnd speaks not! Th’ other Cassius, that appearsSo large of limb. But night now re-ascends,And it is time for parting. All is seen.”I clipp’d him round the neck, for so he bade;And noting time and place, he, when the wingsEnough were op’d, caught fast the shaggy sides,And down from pile to pile descending stepp’dBetween the thick fell and the jagged ice.Soon as he reach’d the point, whereat the thighUpon the swelling of the haunches turns,My leader there with pain and struggling hardTurn’d round his head, where his feet stood before,And grappled at the fell, as one who mounts,That into hell methought we turn’d again.“Expect that by such stairs as these,” thus spakeThe teacher, panting like a man forespent,“We must depart from evil so extreme.”Then at a rocky opening issued forth,And plac’d me on a brink to sit, next join’dWith wary step my side. I rais’d mine eyes,Believing that I Lucifer should seeWhere he was lately left, but saw him nowWith legs held upward. Let the grosser sort,Who see not what the point was I had pass’d,Bethink them if sore toil oppress’d me then.“Arise,” my master cried, “upon thy feet.“The way is long, and much uncouth the road;And now within one hour and half of noonThe sun returns.” It was no palace-hallLofty and luminous wherein we stood,But natural dungeon where ill footing wasAnd scant supply of light. “Ere from th’ abyssI sep’rate,” thus when risen I began,“My guide! vouchsafe few words to set me freeFrom error’s thralldom. Where is now the ice?How standeth he in posture thus revers’d?And how from eve to morn in space so briefHath the sun made his transit?” He in fewThus answering spake: “Thou deemest thou art stillOn th’ other side the centre, where I grasp’dTh’ abhorred worm, that boreth through the world.Thou wast on th’ other side, so long as IDescended; when I turn’d, thou didst o’erpassThat point, to which from ev’ry part is dragg’dAll heavy substance. Thou art now arriv’dUnder the hemisphere opposed to that,Which the great continent doth overspread,And underneath whose canopy expir’dThe Man, that was born sinless, and so liv’d.Thy feet are planted on the smallest sphere,Whose other aspect is Judecca. MornHere rises, when there evening sets: and he,Whose shaggy pile was scal’d, yet standeth fix’d,As at the first. On this part he fell downFrom heav’n; and th’ earth, here prominent before,Through fear of him did veil her with the sea,And to our hemisphere retir’d. PerchanceTo shun him was the vacant space left hereBy what of firm land on this side appears,That sprang aloof.” There is a place beneath,From Belzebub as distant, as extendsThe vaulted tomb, discover’d not by sight,But by the sound of brooklet, that descendsThis way along the hollow of a rock,Which, as it winds with no precipitous course,The wave hath eaten. By that hidden wayMy guide and I did enter, to returnTo the fair world: and heedless of reposeWe climbed, he first, I following his steps,Till on our view the beautiful lights of heav’nDawn, through a circular opening in the cave:Thus issuing we again beheld the stars.
“The banners of Hell’s Monarch do come forthTowards us; therefore look,” so spake my guide,“If thou discern him.” As, when breathes a cloudHeavy and dense, or when the shades of nightFall on our hemisphere, seems view’d from farA windmill, which the blast stirs briskly round,Such was the fabric then methought I saw,
To shield me from the wind, forthwith I drewBehind my guide: no covert else was there.
Now came I (and with fear I bid my strainRecord the marvel) where the souls were allWhelm’d underneath, transparent, as through glassPellucid the frail stem. Some prone were laid,Others stood upright, this upon the soles,That on his head, a third with face to feetArch’d like a bow. When to the point we came,Whereat my guide was pleas’d that I should seeThe creature eminent in beauty once,He from before me stepp’d and made me pause.
“Lo!” he exclaim’d, “lo Dis! and lo the place,Where thou hast need to arm thy heart with strength.”
How frozen and how faint I then became,Ask me not, reader! for I write it not,Since words would fail to tell thee of my state.I was not dead nor living. Think thyselfIf quick conception work in thee at all,How I did feel. That emperor, who swaysThe realm of sorrow, at mid breast from th’ iceStood forth; and I in stature am more likeA giant, than the giants are in his arms.Mark now how great that whole must be, which suitsWith such a part. If he were beautifulAs he is hideous now, and yet did dareTo scowl upon his Maker, well from himMay all our mis’ry flow. Oh what a sight!How passing strange it seem’d, when I did spyUpon his head three faces: one in frontOf hue vermilion, th’ other two with thisMidway each shoulder join’d and at the crest;The right ’twixt wan and yellow seem’d: the leftTo look on, such as come from whence old NileStoops to the lowlands. Under each shot forthTwo mighty wings, enormous as becameA bird so vast. Sails never such I sawOutstretch’d on the wide sea. No plumes had they,But were in texture like a bat, and theseHe flapp’d i’ th’ air, that from him issued stillThree winds, wherewith Cocytus to its depthWas frozen. At six eyes he wept: the tearsAdown three chins distill’d with bloody foam.At every mouth his teeth a sinner champ’dBruis’d as with pond’rous engine, so that threeWere in this guise tormented. But far moreThan from that gnawing, was the foremost pang’dBy the fierce rending, whence ofttimes the backWas stript of all its skin. “That upper spirit,Who hath worse punishment,” so spake my guide,“Is Judas, he that hath his head withinAnd plies the feet without. Of th’ other two,Whose heads are under, from the murky jawWho hangs, is Brutus: lo! how he doth writheAnd speaks not! Th’ other Cassius, that appearsSo large of limb. But night now re-ascends,And it is time for parting. All is seen.”
I clipp’d him round the neck, for so he bade;And noting time and place, he, when the wingsEnough were op’d, caught fast the shaggy sides,And down from pile to pile descending stepp’dBetween the thick fell and the jagged ice.
Soon as he reach’d the point, whereat the thighUpon the swelling of the haunches turns,My leader there with pain and struggling hardTurn’d round his head, where his feet stood before,And grappled at the fell, as one who mounts,That into hell methought we turn’d again.
“Expect that by such stairs as these,” thus spakeThe teacher, panting like a man forespent,“We must depart from evil so extreme.”Then at a rocky opening issued forth,And plac’d me on a brink to sit, next join’dWith wary step my side. I rais’d mine eyes,Believing that I Lucifer should seeWhere he was lately left, but saw him nowWith legs held upward. Let the grosser sort,Who see not what the point was I had pass’d,Bethink them if sore toil oppress’d me then.
“Arise,” my master cried, “upon thy feet.“The way is long, and much uncouth the road;And now within one hour and half of noonThe sun returns.” It was no palace-hallLofty and luminous wherein we stood,But natural dungeon where ill footing wasAnd scant supply of light. “Ere from th’ abyssI sep’rate,” thus when risen I began,“My guide! vouchsafe few words to set me freeFrom error’s thralldom. Where is now the ice?How standeth he in posture thus revers’d?And how from eve to morn in space so briefHath the sun made his transit?” He in fewThus answering spake: “Thou deemest thou art stillOn th’ other side the centre, where I grasp’dTh’ abhorred worm, that boreth through the world.Thou wast on th’ other side, so long as IDescended; when I turn’d, thou didst o’erpassThat point, to which from ev’ry part is dragg’dAll heavy substance. Thou art now arriv’dUnder the hemisphere opposed to that,Which the great continent doth overspread,And underneath whose canopy expir’dThe Man, that was born sinless, and so liv’d.Thy feet are planted on the smallest sphere,Whose other aspect is Judecca. MornHere rises, when there evening sets: and he,Whose shaggy pile was scal’d, yet standeth fix’d,As at the first. On this part he fell downFrom heav’n; and th’ earth, here prominent before,Through fear of him did veil her with the sea,And to our hemisphere retir’d. PerchanceTo shun him was the vacant space left hereBy what of firm land on this side appears,That sprang aloof.” There is a place beneath,From Belzebub as distant, as extendsThe vaulted tomb, discover’d not by sight,But by the sound of brooklet, that descendsThis way along the hollow of a rock,Which, as it winds with no precipitous course,The wave hath eaten. By that hidden wayMy guide and I did enter, to returnTo the fair world: and heedless of reposeWe climbed, he first, I following his steps,Till on our view the beautiful lights of heav’nDawn, through a circular opening in the cave:Thus issuing we again beheld the stars.