Binyon's Dante

Laurence Binyon's translation of Dante's Divine Comedy.

Hover over the green Roman numerals for Charles Hall Grandgent's annotations.

The PDF version, with more assured formatting, can be found here.

Inferno

Canto V

The descent to the Second Circle, with which Hell proper begins. Here are the souls of carnal sinners. Minos, who presides over the entrance of Hell as Judge and assigns their places to the damned as they come in, at first refuses admittance to Dante, but is overawed by Virgil. The carnal sinners are blown about forever on stormy winds, and among them Virgil points out famous lovers. Dante wishes to speak with one pair, who are Francesca da Rimini and Paolo Malatesta, brother of the husband to whom for state reasons Francesca had been married. Hearing Francesca’s story Dante is so overcome with pity that he faints.


From the first circle I thus descended down

Into the second, which less space admits,

And so much more pain that it stings to groan.

There Minos, hideously grinning, sits,

Inspects the offences at the entering in,

Judges and, as he girds himself, commits.

I mean, that when the ill-born spirit comes in

Before his presence, it confesses all;

Thereon that scrutiniser of each sin

Sees what place Hell holds for its fittest stall; [10]

Round him as many times his tail doth throw

As the degrees he wills that it should fall.

Always before him stand they, row on row;

To sentence comes each of the wretched train:

They tell, and hear; and straight are whirled below.

“O thou, who comest to the home of pain,”

Said Minos to me, when my face he spied,

Leaving his business of the great Arraign,

“Beware in whom thou, entering, dost confide,

Let not the broad approach thy feet ensnare.” [20]

“Why criest thou out?” answered to him my Guide:

“Hinder thou not his destined steps. Forbear!

Thus is the thing willed there, where what is willed

Can be accomplished. Further question spare.”

Now begin notes of wailing never stilled

To pierce into my ear; now am I come

Where thronging lamentations hold me thrilled.

I came into a place of all light dumb

That bellows like a storm in the sea-deep

When the thwart winds that strike it roar and hum. [30]

The abysmal tempest that can never sleep

Snatches the spirits and headlong hurries them,

Beats and besets them with its whirling sweep.

When they arrive before the ruin, stream[i]34. “The ruin”: as the pit narrows progressively toward the bottom, the terraces correspondingly decrease in circumference. At one point in the round of this shelf is a break, where the rock has fallen. In Canto XII, 31-45, we are told that when Christ descended into Hell, his coming was preceded by an earthquake, which shook down the walls of the abyss in three spots.

The cries up; there the wail is and the moan,

There the divine omnipotence they blaspheme.

I learnt that in such restless violence blown

This punishment the carnal sinners share

Whose reason by desire was overthrown.

And as their beating wings the starlings bear [40]

At the cold season, in broad flocking flight,

So those corrupted spirits were rapt in air

To and fro, down, up, driven in helpless plight,

Comforted by no hope ever to lie

At rest, nor even to bear a pain more light.

And as the cranes in long line streak the sky

And in procession chant their mournful call,

So I saw come with sound of wailing by

The shadows fluttering in the tempest’s brawl.

Whereat, “O Master, who are these,” I said, [50]

“On whom the black winds with their scourges fall?”

“The first of those concerning whom thou hast prayed[ii]52. “The first of those . . .” is Semiramis, queen of Assyria.

To know,” he answered, “had dominion

Of many tongues, which she as empress swayed.

With vice of luxury was she so undone,

That she made lust a law by her decree,

To obliterate the shame that she had won.

This is Semiramis: we read that she

Came after Ninus, and had been his bride.

She ruled the land the Soldan holds in fee. [60]

That other is she who by her own hand died[iii]61. “She who by her own hand died” is Dido. The story of her fatal love for Aeneas (and her infidelity to the memory of her dead husband Sichaeus) is told in Aeneid, IV.

For Love’s sake, to Sichaeus’ urn untrue;

Voluptuous Cleopatra comes beside.

See Helen, for whose sake the long years drew

Ill after ill; see great Achilles there,

Who fought with love in the end, and whom love slew.

See Paris, Tristram!” More than a thousand pair[iv]67. “Paris”: son of Priam. “Tristram”: the hero of the most famous medieval love romance. 

He with his finger pointing at shades of fame

Showed me, whom love had power from life to tear.

After that I had heard my Teacher name [70]

Each lady of old, with her enamoured knight,

My thoughts were mazed, such pity upon me came.

I began: “Poet, I fain would, if I might,

Speak with those two that hand in hand appear

And, as they move, seem to the wind so light.”

And he to me: “When they approach more near,

Thou shalt see. By the love which is their guide

Do thou entreat them then, and they will hear.”

Soon as the wind’s whirl made them nearer glide,

I raised my voice up: “O tired spirits, come [80]

And speak with us, if that be not denied.”

Eagerly as a pair of pigeons, whom

Desire calls, and their will bears, as they fly

On wide unfaltering wings to their sweet home,

So swerved those spirits from out the company

Where Dido is, flying toward us underneath

The fell mirk; such a power had my fond cry.

“O kind and gracious creature that hast breath

And comest journeying through the black air

To us who made the earth bloody with our death, [90]

Were but the world’s King friend to us, a prayer

Should from us both implore Him for thy peace

Because thou hast taken pity on our despair.

Whether to speak or listen better please,

We will speak with you, and hear and understand,

Now while the lull’d wind spares a little ease.

The place where I was born sits on the strand[v]97. “The place where I was born”: Ravenna, then only one mile from the sea and connected with the Po river by canals.

Where Po descends to his peace, and with him takes

All the other streams that follow him down the land.[vi]99. The tributaries are conceived as chasing the Po down to the sea.

Love, that in gentle heart so quickly wakes, [100]

Took him with this fair body, which from me

Was torn: the way of it still hurts and aches.[vii]102. “The way . . . and aches”: because, murdered as she was without a chance to repent, she incurred eternal punishment.

Love, that to no loved one remits his fee,

Took me with joy of him, so deep in-wrought,

Even now it hath not left me, as thou dost see.

Love led us both to one death. He that sought

And spilt our life—Cain’s hell awaits him now.”[viii]107. “Cain’s hell”: the abode of traitors to kindred, at the bottom of Hell, which awaits Francesca’s husband, Gian Ciotto.

These words to us upon the wind were brought.

When I had heard those wounded spirits, my brow

Sank downward, and I held it where it was, [110]

Until the Poet spoke: “What musest thou?”

And when I answered, I began: “Alas!

How many sweet thoughts and what longings fain

Led them into the lamentable pass!”

I turned, and I began to speak again:

“Francesca, the tears come into mine eyes

For sorrow, and for pity of thy pain.

But tell me: in the time of the sweet sighs

How did Love vouchsafe proof of what he is,

And of the obscure yearnings make you wise?” [120]

And she to me: “No grief surpasses this

(And that thy Teacher understands full well)[ix]122. “Thy Teacher”: Virgil, who was happy and glorious on earth, and is now condemned to eternal exile.

In the midst of misery to remember bliss.

But if thou so desire to know how fell

The seed whose first root in our bosoms fed,

I’ll tell, as one who can but weep and tell.

One day together, for pastime, we read

Of Launcelot, and how Love held him in thrall.[x]128. “We read of Launcelot”: the French prose romance of Launcelot of the Lake, which tells of the love of the hero for Guinevere, wife of King Arthur.

We were alone, and without any dread.

Sometimes our eyes, at the word’s secret call, [130]

Met, and our cheeks a changing colour wore.

But it was one page only that did all.

When we read how that smile, so thirsted for,

Was kissed by such a lover, he that may

Never from me be separated more

All trembling kissed my mouth. The book I say

Was a Galahalt to us, and he beside[xi]137. “The book . . . was a Galahalt to us”: Galahalt was the intermediary who brought Launcelot and Guinevere together; Paolo and Francesca had no such go-between—the book was their Galahalt, their guide to love.

That wrote the book. We read no more that day.”

While the one spirit spoke thus, the other cried

So lamentably, that the whole life fled [140]

For pity out of me, as if I died;

And I fell, like a body falling dead.



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