Their soft complaints along the stormy way;
Whereat I ask, "Those crowds, so torn and tost
By the dense air—tell, master, what are they?"
Then answer'd he-" Of all that numerous host,
Whose fate thou dost inquire, the First in rule
Of many-languaged nations made her boast;
An adept such in luxury's shameless school,

Quod libet, licet," was the legend old Wherewith she sought her burning brows to cool. Her name Semiramis-of whom 'tis told

She after him who was her consort reign'd. Those realms she held, the soldan now doth hold. Next, She who, for love's sake, to live disdain'd, And broke her promise to Sichæus' shade. Then Egypt's lustful queen." With her entrain'd, I Helen mark'd, for whose fair form was paid A price so high. Achilles too I spied, Who, to the last, with love fierce warfare made. Paris I saw, and Tristan ;-these beside,

Thousands he shew'd, and singled out by name, Whom love from worldly life did erst divide. When all these dames and knights of ancient fame My teacher, one by one, I heard rehearse, Compassion all my senses quite o'ercame; And thus I cried-" O man of deathless verse! Yon pair of spirits, that seem before the blast So lightly driven,—with them I'd fain converse." Then he to me-" Watch till they shall be pass'd More nearly tow'rds us; then, advancing, pray Even by the love that guides them—and, as fast

As the wind drives, they will thy call obey."
Therewith my voice I raised; "O souls distrest!
Come, speak with us, unless denied to stay."
They then, as doves, that to their tender nest
On firm expanded pinions through the sky
Are driven, by force of will-born passion press'd,
So, from the band where Dido haunts, they fly,
Tow'rds us repairing through that fog malign—
Of such enforcement was my earnest cry.
"O living man! Thou gracious and benign,
To visit Us, through this dun region sent,
Who, dying, stain'd the earth with crimson sign-
If that the Almighty ruler's ear were bent
To our petitions, we would pray for thee,
Since thou hast pity' on our strange chastisement.
Whether to speak or list thy pleasure be,
To speak and listen we alike are fain,
Now, while the silent air is tempest-free.
My place of birth is seated by the main,

On that sea-shore to which descendeth Po,
In quest of peace, with all his vassal train.
Love, whom the gentle heart soon learns to know,
Him bound a slave to that fair form, which I
Was doom'd-(ah how reluctant!) to forego.
Love, that no loved one suffers to deny

Return, entwined us both with cords so strong That, as thou seest, he still is ever nigh. Love to one fate conducted us along,

While Caina 'waits him who our lives did spill." Such was the burthen of that mournful song,

Which, with their tale, did so my bosom thrill,
As made me droop my head, and bend full low;
When thus the bard; "Thy mind what evils fill?"
Thereon I recommenced, "Alas for wo!

How many sweet thoughts, what intense desire, Has brought them to this dolorous pass below?" I then turn'd back to them, and thus to' inquire Began-" Francesca! thy sad destinies

With grief and pity' at once my breast inspire. But tell me in the season of sweet sighsHow, and by what degrees thy passion rose, So as to read his love's dim phantasies." Among severest woes

Then she to me 66

Is to remember days of dear delight

In misery-and this thy teacher knows. But if thou hast so fond an appetite

From its first source our love's sad maze to thread, Though tears may flow, I will the tale recite. One day, for pastime, we together read

Of Lancelot-how love his heart enchain'd. We were alone, and knew no cause for dread. But, oft as met our eyes, our cheeks were stain'd With blushes by the glowing tale inspired; Till one sole point the fatal victory gain'd. For when we read the smile, so long desired, Which to the lover's kiss her answer bore, He who shall ne'er from me be parted-fired With passion-kiss'd my lips, all trembling o'er Like his. The book was pandar to our thought, And he that wrote. That day we read no more."

Thus, while one spake, that other spirit was wrought

To such a flood of tears, that with the swell Of pity all my sense was quite o'erfraught; And, as a lifeless body falls, I fell.

Now

CIACCO, THE GLUTTON.

INFERNO, C. VI. VER. 34-100.

pass we 'mid the shades, from that dire storm For shelter pent, and think our feet to rest On each substantial-seeming, empty form. All on the ground lay stretch'd, together press'd, Save one, who, as he saw us passing by, Upraised him on his seat, and thus address'd. "O thou, through this dark region forced to ply! See if thou canst my features call to mind, Since thou wast made ere yet unmade was I." To whom I thus-" The torments here assign'd May be the cause that, when I view thy face, I can no trace of past remembrance find. Then tell me who thou art, that to a place

So sad art doom'd, and to such grievous pain, Unmatch'd, if not in keenness, in disgrace." Then he Thy city, which, in every vein,

66

O'erflows with envy, as its vital blood,

Claim'd me for hers thro' life's delightful reign. Your townsmen call'd me Hog-name well bestow'd For swinish vice, that did my substance waste, And left me wallowing in this miry flood.

Nor I alone-sad spirit-here am placed;
All these, my comrades, a like penance pay
For like offence committed."-Here he ceased.
And I to him-"Ciacco, thy sufferings weigh
So heavy as my inmost heart to wring.
But, if thou know'st, what future fortunes, say,
Will guilt to our divided city bring?

Is any just one there?—and what the source Whence those so bitter streams of discord spring?" Then he to me-" After long trial of force,

They'll turn to bloodshed, and the selvage side
Shall drive the other forth without remorse.
Yet, ere three suns have roll'd, that other's pride
Shall humbled be, and those prevail again
By help of one, who flatters to preside.
Long shall these last their lofty port maintain,
And to a grievous yoke their rivals bend;
As one who dares not breathe his fierce disdain.
Two Just are there-but none their cry attend.
Pride, envy, avarice, are the sparks that fire
Their breasts, until the flames o'er earth extend."
And here the lamentable notes expire.

Then I-" More knowledge to impart is thine;
And further converse with thee I require.

Those of Uberti' and Adimari's line;

Mosca, and Rusticucci; with the rest

Who made the general good their grand designSay, where are they, and what their place of rest? For strong desire to learn, if bliss or woe,

In heaven or hell, possess them, fills my breast."