Harvard Classics Volume 20. Golden Deer Classics

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carnal sinners are condemn’d, in whom

      Reason by lust is sway’d. As, in large troops

      And multitudinous, when winter reigns,

      The starlings on their wings are borne abroad;

      So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls.

      On this side and on that, above, below,

      It drives them: hope of rest to solace them

      Is none, nor e’en of milder pang. As cranes,

      Chanting their dolorous notes, traverse the sky,

      Stretch’d out in long array; so I beheld

      Spirits, who came loud wailing, hurried on

      By their dire doom. Then I: “Instructor! who

      Are these, by the black air so scourged?” “The first

      ’Mong those, of whom thou question’st,” he replied,

      “O’er many tongues was empress. She in vice

      Of luxury was so shameless, that she made

      Liking be lawful by promulged decree,

      To clear the blame she had herself incurr’d.

      This is Semiramis, of whom ’tis writ,

      That she succeeded Ninus her espoused;

      And held the land, which now the Soldan rules.

      The next in amorous fury slew herself,

      And to Sichæus’ ashes broke her faith:

      Then follows Cleopatra, lustful queen.”

      There mark’d I Helen, for whose sake so long

      The time was fraught with evil; there the great

      Achilles, who with love fought to the end.

      Paris I saw, and Tristan; and beside,

      A thousand more he show’d me, and by name

      Pointed them out, whom love bereaved of life.

      When I had heard my sage instructor name

      Those dames and knights of antique days, o’erpower’d

      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

      Sway’d them towards us, I thus framed my speech:

      “O wearied spirits! come, and hold discourse

      With us, if by none else restrain’d. 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 prevail’d, 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 own’d,

      Our prayer to him should for thy peace arise,

      Since thou hast pity on our evil plight.

      Of whatsoe’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,[32] that gave me birth,

      Is situate on the coast, where Po descends

      To rest in ocean with his sequent streams.

      “Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt,

      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[33] 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 reach’d!”

      Then turning, I to them my speech address’d,

      And thus began: “Francesca![34] your sad fate

      Even to tears my grief and pity moves.

      But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs,

      By what, and how Love granted, that ye knew

      Your yet uncertain wishes?” She replied:

      “No greater grief than to remember days

      Of joy, when misery is at hand. That kens

      Thy learn’d instructor. Yet so eagerly

      If thou art bent to know the primal root,

      From whence our love gat being, I will do

      As one, who weeps and tells his tale. One day,

      For

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