Girt with a triple wall; and far around
A flaming river foam'd with thundering sound,
Tartarean Phlegethon, that, rolling wide,
Bore rocks uprooted in its mighty tide.
Across the stream a massive gate appear'd,
On solid adamantine columns rear'd,
Which the whole world, and those beside who reign
In heaven's vast mansions, would assault in vain.
Where stands its iron-girt tower, in gloomy state,
There, night and day, before the yawning gate,
In sanguine robe, with eyes that never sleep,
The fury sits, her deathless watch to keep.
Deep, dismal groans the fatal round contains,
The savage echoing of inflicted pains,
And crash of steel, and heavy clank of chains.
The infernal din with horror smote his breast,
And thus the prince his placid guide address'd.
“What miserable crimes, most holy seer,
What hideous torments strike upon mine ear?
What mean those groans, and that appalling cry?"
Then thus she said, "Brave Dardan progeny!
No virtuous soul can o'er yon threshold go,
Nor view the abhorréd land of sin and wo.
But when dread Hecate to my rule convey'd
The sovereign empire of the Avernian shade,
She taught me all the pains by Heaven decreed,
And thro' this realm my feet vouchsafed to lead.
Crete's Rhadamanthus fills the gloomy throne
Of hell's vast region, where he sits alone.
On treason's hateful front to him 'tis given
To guide the thunders of offended heaven.
Whoe'er on earth hath rioted secure
In sin, here finds that vengeance, late tho' sure,
Which Jove, insulted, but defers to show
The omniscient power that governs all below.
Arm'd with immortal wrath, the fury shakes
For ever from her locks the avenging snakes,
And calls her savage sister-band to share
With her the torturing scourge, and office of des-
pair."
And now, with hideous sound, the sacred gate Slow on its hinges turn'd its massive weight. Lo! what grim spectre sits the porch before? What form infernal guards the dreadful door? Fierce Hydra lies within these gloomy caves, (And opes her fifty mouths like yawning graves,) Caves, that in depth beneath the world above Are twice the distance from that world to Jove. The giant race which earth to Titan boreThe ancient race that scaled high heaven of yore, Hurl'd by celestial lightnings from the sky, There rolling in the deepest centre lie. There Neptune's monster sons I saw, who strove From his high seat to hurl the eternal Jove; I saw Salmoneus writhing with his pains, Who, monarch erst of Elis' fertile plains, Assumed the Olympian thunders, and the fire (In impious madness) of Heaven's awful sire. Borne by four steeds, exulting in his might, Thro' Elis' streets he flash'd his torches' light,
And with resounding triumph as he rode, Claim'd the high honours of the insulted god. Madman! with brass and sounding steeds who
To mock the embattled clouds that clash above, And the inimitable fires of Jove !
But, veil'd in night's impenetrable shroud,
The Almighty Father thunder'd from his cloud; No flaming torch, or glittering brass he sent, But the fierce lightning of the firmament. Struck by his bolt, the self-created god Fell from his lofty seat to Pluto's deep abode. Tityus I saw, whom earth's all-fostering womb Brought forth, enfix'd by fate's unpitying doom. O'er nine vast leagues the enormous giant lay, Whilst the fell vulture, hovering o'er its prey, For ever his immortal liver tore,
His teeming entrails gnaw'd, and quaff'd his gore; Fix'd in his heart its fangs, and still remains To feast its thirsty beak with everlasting pains. Why should my tongue Ixion's woes relate, The Lapithæ; or sad Pirithous' fate; For whom the rock's black shade for ever spreads, In hideous ruin trembling o'er their heads? The feast prepared in Oriental state, The couch, in gilded pomp, before them wait; Whilst the relentless fury nigh them stands, And guards the banquet from their eager hands, Or, as they draw the tempting vision near, Darts out her flaming torch and thunders in the rear.
There lay, expecting direful torments, those
Who held, in life, their brethren as their foes;
Who drove their aged parents from the door;
Whose fraud deceived or force oppress'd the poor;
With that vast tribe, whose selfish, harden'd breast
The all-corrupting thirst for gold possess'd;
And those who died in foul adultery ta'en,
And those in traitor arms of hot rebellion slain.
Seek not their various punishments to know,
Their different fates and torturing forms of woe.
Some roll, eternal, the rebounding stone-
Some on the wheel's revolving axle groan.
Unhappy Theseus sits in silence there-
For ever sits upon his rocky chair.
There the most miserable Phlegyas laid
With warning voice calls loudly thro' the shade,
-A dreadful witness-" All ye nations, hear!
Learn justice, and the immortal powers revere."
-This wretch enslaved his native land for gold-
By that, his country's honour'd laws were sold
With love incestuous this his daughter press'd-
Each dared some monstrous deed, and what he dared
possess'd.
Not though I had a hundred different tongues,
A hundred throats, and adamantine lungs,
Could I each varied form of guilt and woe,
By man achieved, and Heaven inflicted, shew.
(THE THIRD CANTO OF THE INFERNO.)
"THROUGH me ye pass into the realm of woe;
Through me ye pass, eternal pain to prove ;
Through me amidst the ruin'd race ye go:
Justice my heavenly builder first did move ;
My mighty fabric Power Divine did rear,
Supremest Wisdom, and Primæval Love.
None but eternal things created were
Before me; and, eternal, I endure.
All hope abandon, ye who enter here!"
These lines inscribed in dark entablature
Over a gateway arch I saw, and said,
"Master, to me their sense is most obscure."
Then he, like one in mystic lore deep read;
"Here all suspicion must be cast aside,
Here every base ignoble thought be dead.
We've reach'd the place, where, late I signified,
Thine eyes the dolorous people should survey
Who have made shipwreck of their reason's pride."
Therewith, his hand on mine he soft did lay
With cheering smile, whence I some comfort took,
While to those secret things he led the way.
Sudden, the starless air, resounding, shook
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