sang the epic of Anchises’ son,
pious Aeneas, who fled blazing Troy 73
and founded Rome. I was a poet there.
Why are you here? Why turn back from your climb
towards the bright height of eternal bliss 76
and come again to a bad place like this?”
“You must be Virgil!” Awestruck, I replied,
“Fountain of all our pure Italian speech!” 79
Rising, I bowed and told him, “All I know
of poetry derives from what you teach!
The style which makes me famed in Italy 82
I learned from you who are my dominie!
Help me again, for see at the hill foot
the brute whose threats have rendered me distraught! 85
Master, please save me – show me the right way.
That rabid wolf has driven me so mad
my pulse and every sense have gone agley.” 88
I wept and, “Take another road,” he said,
“and leave this wasteland, leave that wolfish whore
91 who lets none pass before she bites them dead.
Her starving greedy lust is never sated.
Her appetite increases as she feasts.
94 Mated with many beasts, she’ll mate with more
till one great greyhound comes to hunt her down
whose fangs will end her life in deadly pain.
97 Wisdom, love, courage are his nourishment,
not gold nor land nor any earthly gain.
From birth among the lowly he will rise,
100 bringing new glory to the Italian plain
like the old Trojan colonists and kings
whose wars created Rome’s establishment.
103 Out of each city state he will expel
the wolf before he fixes her at last
back in the place she came from, which is Hell.
106 That is not yet; so now you’ll come with me
on a straight downward path into the jail
envy released her from, and see God’s wrath
109 afflicting sinners who forever wail –
no second death will end their agony!
Then a high fiery mountain we’ll ascend
112 past burning climbers, happy in their flame,
for they will one day join the heavenly choir.
The summit reached, since Heaven is your aim,
115 we two must part. A better guide than me
will lead you then. Living I did not know,
could not obey the last great law of He
who made the whole celestial universe. 118
His highest city, capital and throne
are places that I cannot hope to see.
Happy are those chosen to join Him there!” 121
I answered, “Poet, sent by the God whom you
(alas) can’t know, let us be gone, I pray,
out of this danger, down that hard, hard road, 124
then to the heavenly gate Saint Peter guards,
seeing the poor damned souls upon our way.”
We walked. I followed as he led me on. 127
2: Early Doubts Quelled
1 Day ended. Beasts and birds who love the sun
homed to their dens and nests through dusky air.
Mine seemed the only living body there
4 going to warfare, marching to battle where
each step ahead would be a struggle of
pity with dread in perpetuity.
7 O Muses! Highest altitudes of thought
and memory, recording all I see
by use of noble ingenuity!
10 Let me teach others, as I have been taught!
“Poet!” I cried. “Tell me if I am fit
to go the fearful way you’re leading me.
13 You sang how great Aeneas followed it
and living, saw the nation of the dead.
God let Aeneas, for it was His plan
16 to found a pagan empire by that man –
the Roman Empire Christ inherited,
by crucifixion Christianising Rome.
19 He went through death and Hell to bring souls home
to heavenly bliss Aeneas never knew.
How can this living me follow these two?
Why me? Who has suggested that I go? 22
I’m not Aeneas, nor am I Saint Paul
summoned to follow Jesus by a call
direct from Christ. If feeble me submits 25
to enter Hell I’ll maybe lose my wits!
Please! You know all! Why should I go with you?”
Blethering thus, unwilling what I’d willed, 28
I halted
