not with the first. But not the less
My fear was at his saying; sith I drew
To import worse, perchance, than that he held,
His mutilated speech. “Doth ever any
Into this rueful concave’s extreme depth
Descend, out of the first degree, whose pain
Is deprivation merely of sweet hope?”
Thus I inquiring. “Rarely,” he replied,
“It chances, that among us any makes
This journey, which I wend. Erewhile, ’tis true,
Once came I here beneath, conjured by fell
Erichtho,[54] sorceress, who compell’d the shades
Back to their bodies. No long space my flesh
Was naked of me, when within these walls
She made me enter, to draw forth a spirit
From out of Judas’ circle. Lowest place
Is that of all, obscurest, and removed
Farthest from Heaven’s all-circling orb. The road
Full well I know: thou therefore rest secure.
That lake, the noisome stench exhaling, round
The city of grief encompasses, which now
We may not enter without rage, “Yet more
He added: but I hold it not in mind,
For that mine eye toward the lofty tower
Had drawn me wholly, to its burning top;
Where, in an instant, I beheld uprisen
At once three hellish furies stain’d with blood.
In limb and motion feminine they seem’d;
Around them greenest hydras twisting roll’d
Their volumes; adders and cerastes crept
Instead of hair, and their fierce temples bound.
He, knowing well the miserable hags
Who tend the queen of endless owe, thus spake:
“Mark thou each dire Erynnis. To the left,
This is Megæra; on the right hand, she
Who wails, Alecto; and Tisiphone
I’ th’ midst.” This said, in silence he remain’d.
Their breast they each one clawing tore; themselves
Smote with their palms, and such thrill clamour raised,
That to the bard I clung, suspicion-bound.
“Hasten Medusa: so to adamant
Him shall we change;” all looking down exclaim’d:
“E’en when by Theseus’ might assail’d, we took
No ill revenge.” “Turn thyself round and keep
Thy countenance hid; for if the Gorgon dire
Be shown, and thou shouldst view it, thy return
Upwards would be forever lost.” This said,
Himself, my gentle master, turn’d me round;
Nor trusted he my hands, but with his own
He also hid me. Ye of intellect
Sound and entire, mark well the lore[55] conceal’d
Under close texture of the mystic strain.
And now there came o’er the perturbed waves
Loud-crashing, terrible, a sound that made
Either shore tremble, as if of a wind
Impetuous, from conflicting vapors sprung,
That ’gainst some forest driving all his might,
Plucks off the branches, beats them down, and hurls
Afar; then, onward passing, proudly sweeps
His whirlwind rage, while beasts and shepherds fly.
Mine eyes he loosed, and spake: “And now direct
Thy visual nerve along that ancient foam,
There, thickest where the smoke ascends.” As frogs
Before their foe the serpent, through the wave
Ply swiftly all, till at the ground each one
Lies on a heap; more than a thousand spirits
Destroy’d, so saw I fleeing before one
Who pass’d with unwet feet the Stygian sound.
He, from his face removing the gross air,
Oft his left hand forth stretch’d, and seem’d alone
By that annoyance wearied. I perceived
That he was sent from Heaven; and to my guide
Turn’d me, who signal made, that I should stand
Quiet, and bend to him. Ah me! how full
Of noble anger seem’d he. To the gate
He came, and with his wand touch’d it, whereat
Open without impediment it flew.
“Outcasts of heaven! O abject race, scorn’d!”
Began he, on the horrid grunsel standing,
“Whence doth this wild excess of insolence
Lodge in you? wherefore kick you ’gainst that will
Ne’er frustrate of its end, and which so oft
Hath laid on you enforcement of your pangs?
What profits at the Fates to butt the horn?
Your Cerberus,[56] if ye remember, hence
Bears
