“Through me the way is to the city dolent; Through me the way is to eternal dole; Through me the way among the people lost. Justice incited my sublime Creator; ⁠Created me divine Omnipotence, ⁠The highest Wisdom and the primal Love. Before me there were no created things, ⁠Only eterne, and I eternal last. ⁠All hope abandon, ye who enter in!” These words in sombre color I beheld ⁠Written upon the summit of a gate; ⁠Whence I: “Their sense is. Master, hard to me!” And he to me, as one experienced: ⁠”Here all suspicion needs must be abandoned, ⁠All cowardice must needs be here extinct. We to the place have come, where I have told thee ⁠Thou shalt behold the people dolorous ⁠Who have foregone the good of intellect.” And after he had laid his hand on mine ⁠With joyful mien, whence I was comforted, ⁠He led me in among the secret things. There sighs, complaints, and ululations loud ⁠Resounded through the air without a star, ⁠Whence I, at the beginning, wept thereat. Languages diverse, horrible dialects, ⁠Accents of anger, words of agony, ⁠And voices high and hoarse, with sound of hands, Made up a tumult that goes whirling on ⁠Forever in that air forever black, ⁠Even as the sand doth, when the whirlwind breathes. And I, who had my head with horror bound, ⁠Said: “Master, what is this which now I hear? ⁠What folk is this, which seems by pain so vanquished?” And he to me: “This miserable mode ⁠Maintain the melancholy souls of those ⁠Who lived withouten infamy or praise. Commingled are they with that caitiff choir ⁠Of Angels, who have not rebellious been, ⁠Nor faithful were to God, but were for self. The heavens expelled them, not to be less fair; ⁠Nor them the nethermore abyss receives, ⁠For glory none the damned would have from them.” And I: “O Master, what so grievous is ⁠To these, that maketh them lament so sore?” ⁠He answered: “I will tell thee very briefly. These have no longer any hope of death; ⁠And this blind life of theirs is so debased, ⁠They envious are of every other fate. No fame of them the world permits to be; ⁠Misericord and Justice both disdain them. ⁠Let us not speak of them, but look, and pass.” And I, who looked again, beheld a banner, ⁠Which, whirling round, ran on so rapidly, ⁠That of all pause it seemed to me indignant; And after it there came so long a train ⁠Of people, that I ne’er would have believed ⁠That ever Death so many had undone. When some among them I had recognized, ⁠I looked, and I beheld the shade of him ⁠Who made through cowardice the great refusal. Forthwith I comprehended, and was certain, ⁠That this the sect was of the caitiff wretches ⁠Hateful to God and to his enemies. These miscreants, who never were alive, ⁠Were naked, and were stung exceedingly ⁠By gadflies and by hornets that were there. These did their faces irrigate with blood. ⁠Which, with their tears commingled, at their feet ⁠By the disgusting worms was gathered up. And when to gazing farther I betook me, ⁠People I saw on a great river’s bank; ⁠Whence said I: “Master, now vouchsafe to me, That I may know who these are, and what law ⁠Makes them appear so ready to pass over, ⁠As I discern athwart the dusky light.” And he to me: “These things shall all be known ⁠To thee, as soon as we our footsteps stay ⁠Upon the dismal shore of Acheron.” Then with mine eyes ashamed and downward cast, ⁠Fearing my words might irksome be to him, ⁠From speech refrained I till we reached the river. And lo! towards us coming in a boat ⁠An old man, hoary with the hair of eld, ⁠Crying: “Woe unto you, ye souls depraved! Hope nevermore to look upon the heavens; ⁠I come to lead you to the other shore, ⁠To the eternal shades in heat and frost. And thou, that yonder standest, living soul, ⁠Withdraw thee from these people, who are dead!” ⁠But when he saw that I did not withdraw, He said: “By other ways, by other ports ⁠Thou to the shore shalt come, not here, for passage; ⁠A lighter vessel needs must carry thee.” And unto him the Guide: “Vex thee not, Charon; ⁠It is so willed there where is power to do ⁠That which is willed; and farther question not.” Thereat were quieted the fleecy cheeks ⁠Of him the ferryman of the livid fen, ⁠Who round about his eyes had wheels of flame. But all those souls who weary were and naked ⁠Their color changed and gnashed their teeth together, ⁠As soon as they had heard those cruel words. God they blasphemed and their progenitors, ⁠The human race, the place, the time, the seed ⁠Of their engendering and of their birth! Thereafter all together they drew back, ⁠Bitterly weeping, to the accursed shore, ⁠Which waiteth every man who fears not God. Charon the demon, with the eyes of glede, ⁠Beckoning to them, collects them all together, ⁠Beats with his oar whoever lags behind. As in the autumn-time the leaves fall off, ⁠First one and then another, till the branch ⁠Unto the earth surrenders all its spoils; In similar wise the evil seed of Adam ⁠Throw themselves from that margin one by one, ⁠At signals, as a bird unto its lure. So they depart across the dusky wave, ⁠And ere upon the other side they land, ⁠Again on this side a new troop assembles. “My son,” the courteous Master said to me, ⁠”All those who perish in the wrath of God ⁠Here meet together out of every land; And ready are they to pass o’er the river, ⁠Because celestial Justice spurs them on, ⁠So that their fear is turned into desire. This way there never passes a good soul; ⁠And hence if Charon doth complain of thee, ⁠Well mayst thou know now what his speech imports.” This being finished, all the dusk champaign ⁠Trembled so violently, that of that terror ⁠The recollection bathes me still with sweat. The land of tears gave forth a blast of wind, ⁠And fulminated a vermilion light, ⁠Which overmastered in me every sense, And as a man whom sleep hath seized I fell.