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 thundrous 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 to dread, Who still art wont to comfort me in doubt?" He then: "The anguish of that race below With pity stains my cheek, which thou for fear Mistakest. Let us on. Our length of way Urges to haste." Onward, this said, he moved; And entering led me with him, on the bounds Of the first circle that surrounds the abyss. . . . . . . . . . . We were not far On this side from the summit, when I kenn'd A flame, that o'er the darken'd hemisphere Prevailing shined. Yet we a little space Were distant, not so far but I in part Discover'd that a tribe in honour high That place possess'd. "O thou, who every art And science valuest I who are these that boast Such honour, separate from all the rest?" He answer'd: "The renown of their great names, That echoes through your world above, acquires Favour in heaven, which holds them thus advanced." Meantime a voice I heard: "Honour the bard Sublime![1] his shade returns, that left us late! No sooner ceased the sound, than I beheld Four mighty spirits toward us bend their steps, Of semblance neither sorrowful nor glad. When thus my master kind began: "Mark him, Who in his right hand bears that falchion keen, The other three preceding, as their lord. This is that Homer, of all bards supreme: Flaccus the next, in satire's vein excelling; The third is Naso; Lucan is the last. Because they all that appellation own, With which the voice singly accosted me, Honouring they greet me thus, and well they judge." So I beheld united the bright school Of him the monarch of sublimest song,[2] That o'er the others like an eagle soars. When they together short discourse had held, They turned to me, with salutation kind Beckoning me; at the which my master smiled Nor was this all; but greater honour still They gave me, for they made me of their tribe; And I was sixth amid so learn'd a band. [1] The bard sublime--Virgil. [2] The monarch of sublimest song--Homer. II. Francesca da Rimini.[1] [1] Francesca da Polenta was given in marriage by her father to Lanclotto da Rimini, a man brave, but of deformed person. His brother Paolo, who was exceedingly handsome, won her affections. They were both put to death by Lagnciotto.