Filippo Argenti!”[50] cried they all:
And on himself the moody Florentine
Turn’d his avenging fangs. Him here we left,
Nor speak I of him more. But on mine ear
Sudden a sound of lamentation smote,
Whereat mine eye unbarr’d I sent abroad.
And thus the good instructor: “Now, my son
Draws near the city, that of Dis is named,
With its grave denizens, a mighty throng.”
I thus: “The minarets already, Sir!
There, certes, in the valley I descry,
Gleaming vermilion, as if they from fire
Had issued.” He replied: “Eternal fire,
That inward burns, shows them with ruddy flame
Illumed; as in this nether Hell thou seest.”
We came within the fosses deep, that moat
This region comfortless. The walls appear’d
As they were framed of iron. We had made
Wide circuit, ere a place we reach’d, where loud
The mariner cried vehement: “Go forth:
The entrance is here.” Upon the gates I spied
More than a thousand, who of old from Heaven
Were shower’d. With ireful gestures, “Who is this,”
They cried, “that, without death first felt, goes through
The regions of the dead?” My sapient guide
Made sign that he for secret parley wish’d;
Whereat their angry scorn abating, thus
They spake: “Come thou alone; and let him go,
Who hath so hardily enter’d this realm.
Alone return he by his witless way;
If well he knew it, let him prove. For thee,
Here shalt thou tarry, who through clime so dark
Hast been his escort.” Now bethink thee, reader!
What cheer was mine at sound of those curst words.
I did believe I never should return.
“O my loved guide! who more than seven times[51]
Security hast render’d me, and drawn
From peril deep, whereto I stood exposed,
Desert me not,” I cried, “in this extreme.
And, if our onward going be denied,
Together trace we back our steps with speed.”
My liege, who thither had conducted me,
Replied: “Fear not: for of our passage none
Hath power to disappoint us, by such high
Authority permitted. But do thou
Expect me here; meanwhile, thy wearied spirit
Comfort, and feed with kindly hope, assured
I will not leave thee in this lower world.”
This said, departs the sire benevolent,
And quits me. Hesitating I remain
At war, ’twixt will and will not, in my thoughts.
I could not hear what terms he offer’d them,
But they conferr’d not long, for all at once
Pellmell rush’d back within. Closed were the gates,
By those our adversaries, on the breast
Of my liege lord: excluded, he return’d
To me with tardy steps. Upon the ground
His eyes were bent, and from his brow erased
All confidence, while thus in sighs he spake:
“Who hath denied me these abodes of woe?”
Then thus to me: “That I am anger’d, think
No ground of terror: in this trial I
Shall vanquish, use what arts they may within
For hindrance. This their insolence, not new,[52]
Erewhile at gate less secret they display’d,
Which still is without bolt; upon its arch
Thou saw’st the deadly scroll: and even now,
On this side of its entrance, down the steep,
Passing the circles, unescorted, comes
One whose strong might can open us this land.”
Canto IX
Argument.—After some hindrances, and having seen the hellish furies and other monsters, the Poet, by the help of an angel, enters the city of Dis, wherein he discovers that the heretics are punished in tombs burning with intense fire; and he, together with Virgil, passes onward between the sepulchres and the walls of the city.
The hue,[53] which coward dread on my pale cheeks
Imprinted when I saw my guide turn back,
Chased that from his which newly they had worn,
And inwardly restrain’d it. He, as one
Who listens, stood attentive: for his eye
Not far could lead him through the sable air,
And the thick-gathering cloud. “It yet behoves
We win this fight;” thus he began: “if not,
Such aid to us is offer’d—Oh! how long
Me seems it, ere the promised help arrive.”
I noted, how the sequel of his words
Cloked
