Epic poetry, Italian -- Translations into English; Hell -- Poetry; Italian poetry -- To 1400 -- Translations into English
While I was falling back to the low place, before mine eyes appeared
one who through long silence seemed hoarse. When I saw him in the great
desert, “Have pity on me!” I cried to him, “whatso thou art, or shade
or real man.” He answered me: “Not man; man once I was, and my parents
were Lombards, and Mantuans by country both. I was born sub Julio,
though late, and I lived at Rome under the good Augustus, in the time
of the false and lying gods. Poet was I, and sang of that just son of
Anchises who came from Troy after proud Ilion had been burned. But
thou, why returnest thou to so great annoy? Why dost thou not ascend
the delectable mountain which is the source and cause of every joy?”
“Art thou then that Virgil and that fount which poureth forth so large
a stream of speech?” replied I to him with bashful front: “O honor and
light of the other poem I may the long seal avail me, and the great
love, which have made me search thy volume! Thou art my master and my
author; thou alone art he from whom I took the fair style that hath
done me honor. Behold the beast because of which I turned; help me
against her, famous sage, for she makes any veins and pulses tremble.”
“Thee it behoves to hold another course,” he replied, when he saw me
weeping, “if thou wishest to escape from this savage place; for this
beast, because of which thou criest out, lets not any one pass along
her way, but so hinders him that she kills him! and she has a nature so
malign and evil that she never sates her greedy will, and after food is
hungrier than before. Many are the animals with which she wives, and
there shall be more yet, till the hound[1] shall come that will make
her die of grief. He shall not feed on land or goods, but wisdom and
love and valor, and his birthplace shall be between Feltro and Feltro.
Of that humble[2] Italy shall he be the salvation, for which the virgin
Camilla died, and Euryalus, Turnus and Nisus of their wounds. He shall
hunt her through every town till he shall have set her back in hell,
there whence envy first sent her forth. Wherefore I think and deem it
for thy best that thou follow me, and I will be thy guide, and will
lead thee hence through the eternal place where thou shalt hear the
despairing shrieks, shalt see the ancient spirits woeful who each
proclaim the second death. And then thou shalt see those who are
contented in the fire, because they hope to come, whenever it may be,
to the blessed folk; to whom if thou wilt thereafter ascend, then shall
be a soul more worthy than I for that. With her I will leave thee at my
departure; for that Emperor who reigneth them above, because I was
rebellious to His law, wills not that into His city any one should come
through me. In all parts He governs and them He reigns: there in His
city and His lofty seat. O happy he whom thereto He elects!” And I to
him, “Poet, I beseech thee by that God whom thou didst not know, in
order that I may escape this ill and worse, that thou lead me thither
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account