The Battle of Darkness and Light - Джон Мильтон

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Within his arms encircled and sustained me,

      And said: "Now, Geryon, bestir thyself;

       The circles large, and the descent be little;

       Think of the novel burden which thou hast."

      Even as the little vessel shoves from shore,

       Backward, still backward, so he thence withdrew;

       And when he wholly felt himself afloat,

      There where his breast had been he turned his tail,

       And that extended like an eel he moved,

       And with his paws drew to himself the air.

      A greater fear I do not think there was

       What time abandoned Phaeton the reins,

       Whereby the heavens, as still appears, were scorched;

      Nor when the wretched Icarus his flanks

       Felt stripped of feathers by the melting wax,

       His father crying, "An ill way thou takest!"

      Than was my own, when I perceived myself

       On all sides in the air, and saw extinguished

       The sight of everything but of the monster.

      Onward he goeth, swimming slowly, slowly;

       Wheels and descends, but I perceive it only

       By wind upon my face and from below.

      I heard already on the right the whirlpool

       Making a horrible crashing under us;

       Whence I thrust out my head with eyes cast downward.

      Then was I still more fearful of the abyss;

       Because I fires beheld, and heard laments,

       Whereat I, trembling, all the closer cling.

      I saw then, for before I had not seen it,

       The turning and descending, by great horrors

       That were approaching upon divers sides.

      As falcon who has long been on the wing,

       Who, without seeing either lure or bird,

       Maketh the falconer say, "Ah me, thou stoopest,"

      Descendeth weary, whence he started swiftly,

       Thorough a hundred circles, and alights

       Far from his master, sullen and disdainful;

      Even thus did Geryon place us on the bottom,

       Close to the bases of the rough-hewn rock,

       And being disencumbered of our persons,

      He sped away as arrow from the string.

      Canto XVIII. The Eighth Circle, Malebolge: The Fraudulent and the Malicious. The First Bolgia: Seducers

       Table of Contents

      There is a place in Hell called Malebolge,

       Wholly of stone and of an iron colour,

       As is the circle that around it turns.

      Right in the middle of the field malign

       There yawns a well exceeding wide and deep,

       Of which its place the structure will recount.

      Round, then, is that enclosure which remains

       Between the well and foot of the high, hard bank,

       And has distinct in valleys ten its bottom.

      As where for the protection of the walls

       Many and many moats surround the castles,

       The part in which they are a figure forms,

      Just such an image those presented there;

       And as about such strongholds from their gates

       Unto the outer bank are little bridges,

      So from the precipice's base did crags

       Project, which intersected dikes and moats,

       Unto the well that truncates and collects them.

      Within this place, down shaken from the back

       Of Geryon, we found us; and the Poet

       Held to the left, and I moved on behind.

      Upon my right hand I beheld new anguish,

       New torments, and new wielders of the lash,

       Wherewith the foremost Bolgia was replete.

      Down at the bottom were the sinners naked;

       This side the middle came they facing us,

       Beyond it, with us, but with greater steps;

      Even as the Romans, for the mighty host,

       The year of Jubilee, upon the bridge,

       Have chosen a mode to pass the people over;

      For all upon one side towards the Castle

       Their faces have, and go unto St. Peter's;

       On the other side they go towards the Mountain.

      This side and that, along the livid stone

       Beheld I horned demons with great scourges,

       Who cruelly were beating them behind.

      Ah me! how they did make them lift their legs

       At the first blows! and sooth not any one

       The second waited for, nor for the third.

      While I was going on, mine eyes by one

       Encountered were; and straight I said: "Already

       With sight of this one I am not unfed."

      Therefore I stayed my feet to make him out,

       And with me the sweet Guide came to a stand,

       And to my going somewhat back assented;

      And he, the scourged one, thought to hide himself,

       Lowering his face, but little it availed him;

       For said I: "Thou that castest down thine eyes,

      If false are not the features which thou bearest,

       Thou art Venedico Caccianimico;

       But what doth bring thee to such pungent sauces?"

      And he to me: "Unwillingly I tell it;

       But forces me thine utterance distinct,

       Which makes me recollect the ancient world.

      I was the one who the fair Ghisola

       Induced to grant the wishes of the Marquis,

       Howe'er the shameless story may be told.

      Not the sole Bolognese am I who weeps here;

       Nay, rather is this place so full of them,

       That not so many tongues to-day are taught

      'Twixt Reno and Savena to say 'sipa;'

       And if thereof thou wishest pledge or proof,

       Bring to thy mind our avaricious heart."

      While speaking in this manner, with his scourge

       A demon smote him, and said: "Get thee gone

       Pander, there are no women here for coin."

      I joined myself again unto mine Escort;

       Thereafterward with footsteps few we came

       To where a crag projected from the bank.

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