Leaving this beautiful oasis in the infernal desert, the poets enter the second circle, where Hell may be said really to begin. Here Dante sees the monster Minos, the judge of the infernal regions, who assigns to each soul its proper circle, indicating the number thereof by winding his tail about his body a corresponding number of times. In circle two are the souls of the licentious, blown about forever by a violent wind. Among them Dante recognizes the famous lovers of antiquity, Dido, Helen, Cleopatra. His attention is especially attracted toward two spirits, who, locked closely in each other's arms, are blown hither and thither like chaff before the wind. Calling upon them to tell him who they are, he hears the pathetic story of Francesca da Rimini, perhaps the most famous and beautiful passage in all poetry: "When I had heard my sage instructor name Those dames and knights of antique days, o'erpowered By pity, well-nigh in amaze my mind Was lost; and I began: 'Bard! willingly I would address those two together coming, Which seem so light before the wind.' He thus: 'Note thou, when nearer they to us approach. Then by that love which carries them along, Entreat; and they will come.' Soon as the wind Swayed them toward us, I thus framed my speech: 'O wearied spirits! come, and hold discourse With us, if by none else restrained.' As doves By fond desire invited, on wide wings And firm, to their sweet nest returning home, Cleave the air, wafted by their will along; Thus issued, from that troop where Dido ranks, They, through the ill air speeding: with such force My cry prevailed, by strong affection urged. "'O gracious creature and benign! who go'st Visiting, through this element obscure, Us, who the world with bloody stain imbrued; If, for a friend, the King of all, we owned, Our prayer to him should for thy peace arise, Since thou hast pity on our evil plight. Of whatso'er to hear or to discourse It pleases thee, that will we hear, of that Freely with thee discourse, while e'er the wind, As now, is mute. The land, that gave me birth, Is situate on the coast, where Po descends To rest in ocean[8] with his sequent streams. "'Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt[9], Entangled him by that fair form, from me Ta'en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still: Love, that denial takes from none beloved, Caught me with pleasing him so passing well, That, as thou seest, he yet deserts me not. Love brought us to one death: Caïna[10] waits The soul, who spilt our life.' Such were their words; At hearing which, downward I bent my looks, And held them there so long, that the bard cried: 'What art thou pondering?' I in answer thus: 'Alas! by what sweet thoughts, what fond desire Must they at length to that ill pass have reached!'