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- Midway in our life's journey, I went astray
- from the straight road and woke to find myself
- alone in a dark wood. How shall I say
- what wood that was! I never saw so drear,
- so rank, so arduous a wilderness!
- Its very memory gives a shape to fear.
- Death could scarce be more bitter than that place!
- But since it came to good, I will recount
- all that I found revealed there by God's grace.
- How I came to it I cannot rightly say,
- so drugged and loose with sleep had I become
- when I first wandered there from the True Way.
- But at the far end of that valley of evil
- whose maze had sapped my very heart with fear
- I found myself before a little hill
- and lifted up my eyes. Its shoulders glowed
- already with the sweet rays of that planet
- whose virtue leads men straight an every road,
- and the shining strengthened me against the fright
- whose agony had wracked the lake of my heart
- through all the terrors of that piteous night.
- Just as a swimmer, who with his last breath
- flounders ashore from perilous seas, might turn
- to memorize the wide water of his death -
- so did I turn, my soul still fugitive
- from death's surviving image, to stare down
- that pass that none had ever left alive.
- And there I lay to rest from my heart's race
- till calm and breath returned to me. Then rose
- and pushed up that dead slope at such a pace
- each footfall rose above the last. And lo!
- almost at the beginning of the rise
- I faced a spotted Leopard, all tremor and flow
- and gaudy pelt. And it would not pass, but stood
- so blocking my every turn that time and again
- I was an the verge of turning back to the wood.
- This fell at the first widening of the dawn
- as the sun was climbing Aries with those stars
- that rode with him to light the new creation.
- Thus the holy hour and the sweet season
- of commemoration did much to arm my fear
- of that bright murderous beast with their good omen.
- Yet not so much but what I shook with dread
- at sight of a great Lion that broke upon me
- raging with hunger, its enormous head
- held high as if to strike a mortal terror
- into the very air. And down bis track,
- a She-Wolf drove upon me, a starved horror
- ravening and wasted beyond all belief.
- She seemed a rack for avarice, gaunt and craving.
- Oh many the souls she has brought to endless grief!
- She brought such heaviness upon my spirit
- at sight of her savagery and desperation,
- I died from every hope of that high summit.
- And like a miser-eager in acquisition
- but desperate in self-reproach when Fortune's wheel
- turns to the hour of bis loss-all tears and attrition
- I wavered back; and still the beast pursued,
- forcing herself against me bit by bit
- till I slid back into the sunless wood.
- And as I fell to my soul's ruin, a presence
- gathered before me an the discolored air,
- the figure of one who seemed hoarse from long silence.
- At sight of him in that friendless waste I cried:
- "Have pity an me, whatever thing you are,
- whether shade or living man." And it replied:
- "Not man, though man I once was, and my blood
- was Lombard, both my parents Mantuan.
- I was born, though late, sub Julio, and bred
- in Rome under Augustus in the noon
- of the false and lying gods. I was a poet
- and sang of old Anchises' noble son
- who came to Rome after the burning of Troy.
- But you-why do you return to these distresses
- instead of climbing that shining Mount of Joy
- which is the seat and first cause of man's bliss?"
- "And are you then that Virgil and that fountain
- of purest speech?" My voice grew tremulous:
- "Glory and light of poets! now may that zeal
- and love's apprenticeship that I poured out
- an your heroic verses serve me well!
- For you are my true master and first author,
- the sole maker from whom 1 drew the breath
- of that sweet style whose measures have brought me honor.
- See there, immortal sage, the beast I flee.
- For my soul's salvation, I beg you, guard me from her,
- for she has struck a mortal tremor through me."
- And he replied, seeing my soul in tears:
- "He must go by another way who would escape
- this wilderness, for that mad beast that fleers
- before you there, suffers no man to pass.
- She tracks down all, kills all, and knows no glut,
- but, feeding, she grows hungrier than she was.
- She mates with any beast, and will mate with more
- before the Greyhound comes to bunt her down.
- He will not feed an lands nor loot, but honor
- and love and wisdom will make straight bis way.
- He will rise between Feltro and Feltro, and in him
- shall be the resurrection and new day
- of that sad Italy for which Nisus died,
- and Turnus, and Euryalus, and the maid Camilla.
- He shall hunt her through every nation of sick pride
- till she is driven back forever to Hell
- whence Envy first released her an the world.
- Therefore, for your own good, I think it well
- you follow me and I will be your guide
- and lead you forth through an eternal place.
- There you shall see the ancient spirits tried
- in endless pain, and hear their lamentation
- as each bemoans the second death of souls.
- Next you shall see upon a burning mountain
- souls in fire and yet content in fire,
- knowing that whensoever it may be
- they yet will mount into the blessed choir.
- To which, if it is still your wich to climb,
- a worthier spirit shall be sent to guide you.
- With her shall I leave you, for the King of Time,
- who reigns an high, forbids me to come there
- since, living, I rebelled against his law.
- He rules the waters and the land and air
- and there holds court, his city and his throne.
- Oh blessed are they he chooses!" And I to him:
- "Poet, by that God to you unknown,
- lead me this way. Beyond this present ill
- and worse to dread, lead me to Peter's gate
- and be my guide through the sad halls of Hell."
- And he then: "Follow." And he moved ahead
- in silence, and I followed where he led.
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