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 Canto IX
      After some hindrances, and having seen the hellish furies and other
 monsters, the Poet, by the help of an angel, enters the city of Dis, wherein
 he discovers that the heretics are punished in tombs burning with intense
 fire; and he, together with Virgil, passes onward between the sepulchres and
 the walls of the city.
 The hue,[1] which coward dread on my pale cheeks
 Imprinted when I saw my guide turn back,
 Chased that from his which newly they had worn,
 And inwardly restrain'd it. He, as one
 Who listens, stood attentive: for his eye
 Not far could lead him through the sable air,
 And the thick - gathering cloud. "It yet behoves
 We win this fight;" thus he began: "if not,
 Such aid to us is offer'd - Oh! how long
 Me seems it, ere the promised help arrive."
 [1: "The hue," Virgil, perceiving that Dante was pale with fear,
 restrained those outward tokens of displeasure which his own countenance had
 I noted, how the sequel of his words
 Cloked their beginning; for the last he spake
 Agreed not with the first. But not the less
 My fear was at his saying; sith I drew
 To import worse, perchance, than that he held,
 His mutilated speech. "Doth ever any
 Into this rueful concave's extreme depth
 Descend, out of the first degree, whose pain
 Is deprivation merely of sweet hope?"
 Thus I inquiring. "Rarely," he replied,
 "It chances, that among us any makes
 This journey, which I wend. Erewhile, 'tis true,
 Once came I here beneath, conjured by fell
 Erichtho,[2] sorceress, who compell'd the shades
 Back to their bodies. No long space my flesh
 Was naked of me, when within these walls
 She made me enter, to draw forth a spirit
 From out of Judas' circle. Lowest place
 Is that of all, obscurest, and removed
 [2: Erichtho, a Thessalian sorceress (Lucan, "Pharsal." 1. vi.), was
 employed by Sextus, son of Pompey the Great, to conjure up a spirit, who
 should inform him of the issue of the civil wars between his father and
 Farthest from Heaven's all - circling orb. The road
 Full well I know: thou therefore rest secure.
 That lake, the noisome stench exhaling, round
 The city of grief encompasses, which now
 We may not enter without rage, "Yet more
 He added: but I hold it not in mind,
 For that mine eye toward the lofty tower
 Had drawn me wholly, to its burning top;
 Where, in an instant, I beheld uprisen
 At once three hellish furies stain'd with blood.
 In limb and motion feminine they seem'd;
 Around them greenest hydras twisting roll'd
 Their volumes; adders and cerastes crept
 Instead of hair, and their fierce temples bound.
 He, knowing well the miserable hags
 Who tend the queen of endless owe, thus spake:
 "Mark thou each dire Erynnis. To the left,
 This is Megaera; on the right hand, she
 Who wails, Alecto; and Tisiphone
 I'th' midst." This said, in silence he remain'd.
 Their breast they each one clawing tore; themselves
 Smote with their palms, and such thrill clamour raised,
 That to the bard I clung, suspicion - bound.
 "Hasten Medusa: so to adamant
 Him shall we change;" all looking down exclaim'd:
 "E'en when by Theseus' might assail'd, we took
 No ill revenge." "Turn thyself round and keep
 Thy countenance hid; for if the Gorgon dire
 Be shown, and thou shouldst view it, thy return
 Upwards would be forever lost." This said,
 Himself, my gentle master, turn'd me round;
 Nor trusted he my hands, but with his own
 He also hid me. Ye of intellect
 Sound and entire, mark well the lore[3] conceal'd
 [3: The Poet probably intends to call the reader's attention to the
 allegorical and mystic sense of the present Canto, and not, as Venturi
 supposes, to that of the whole work. Landino supposes this hidden meaning to
 be that in the case of those vices which proceed from intemperance, reason,
 figured under the person of Virgil, with the ordinary grace of God, may be a
 sufficient safeguard; but that in the instance of more heinous crimes, such as
 those we shall hereafter see punished, a special grace, represented by the
 angel, is requisite for our defence.]
 Under close texture of the mystic strain.
 And now there came o'er the perturbed waves
 Loud - crashing, terrible, a sound that made
 Either shore tremble, as if of a wind
 Impetuous, from conflicting vapors sprung,
 That 'gainst some forest driving all his might,
 Plucks off the branches, beats them down, and hurls
 Afar; then, onward passing, proudly sweeps
 His whirlwind rage, while beasts and shepherds fly.
 Mine eyes he loosed, and spake: "And now direct
 Thy visual nerve along that ancient foam,
 There, thickest where the smoke ascends." As frogs
 Before their foe the serpent, through the wave
 Ply swiftly all, till at the ground each one
 Lies on a heap; more than a thousand spirits
 Destroy'd, so saw I fleeing before one
 Who pass'd with unwet feet the Stygian sound.
 He, from his face removing the gross air,
 Oft his left hand forth stretch'd, and seem'd alone
 By that annoyance wearied. I perceived
 That he was sent from Heaven; and to my guide
 Turn'd me, who signal made, that I should stand
 Quiet, and bend to him. Ah me! how full
 Of noble anger seem'd he. To the gate
 He came, and with his wand touch'd it, whereat
 Open without impediment it flew.
 "Outcasts of heaven! O abject race, scorn'd!"
 Began he, on the horrid grunsel standing,
 "Whence doth this wild excess of insolence
 Lodge in you? wherefore kick you 'gainst that will
 Ne'er frustrate of its end, and which so oft
 Hath laid on you enforcement of your pangs?
 What profits at the Fates to butt the horn?
 Your Cerberus,[4] if ye remember, hence
 Bears still, peel'd of their hair, his throat and maw."
 [4: "Your Cerberus." Cerberus is feigned to have been dragged by
 Hercules, bound with a threefold chain, of which, says the angel, he still
 bears the marks. Lombardi blames the other interpreters for having supposed
 that the angel attributes this exploit to Hercules, a fabulous hero, rather
 than to our Saviour, It would seem as if the good father had forgotten that
 Cerberus is himself no less a creature of the imagination than the hero who
 encountered him.]
 This said, he turn'd back o'er the filthy way,
 And syllable to us spake none; but wore
 The semblance of a man by other care
 Beset, and keenly prest, than thought of him
 Who in his presence stands. Then we our steps
 Toward that territory moved, secure
 After the hallow'd words. We, unopposed,
 There enter'd; and, my mind eager to learn
 What state a fortress like to that might hold,
 I, soon as enter'd, throw mine eye around,
 And see, on every part, wide - stretching space,
 Replete with bitter pain and torment ill.
 As where Rhone stagnates on the plains of Arles,[5]
 Or as at Pola,[6] near Quarnaro's gulf,
 That closes Italy and laves her bounds,
 The place is all thick spread with sepulchres;
 So was it here, save what in horror here
 Excell'd: for 'midst the graves were scattered flames,
 Wherewith intensely all throughout they burn'd,
 That iron for no craft there hotter needs.
 [5: "The plains of Arles." In Provence. These sepulchres are
 mentioned in the Life of Charlemagne, which has been attributed to Archbishop
 Turpin, cap. 28, and 30, and by Fazio degli Uberti, Dittamondo, L. iv. cap.
 [6: "At Pola." A city of Istria, situated near the gulf of Quarnaro,
 in the Adriatic Sea.]
 Their lids all hung suspended; and beneath,
 From them forth issued lamentable moans,
 Such as the sad and tortured well might raise.
 I thus: "Master! say who are these, interr'd
 Within these vaults, of whom distinct we hear
 The dolorous sighs." He answer thus return'd:
 "The arch - heretics are here, accompanied
 By every sect their followers; and much more
 Than thou believest, the tombs are freighted: like
 With like is buried; and the monuments
 Are different in degrees of heat." This said,
 He to the right hand turning, on we pass'd
 Betwixt the afflicted and the ramparts high.