Humanities Languages The Divine Comedy: Inferno: Canto V Share Flipboard Email Print DEA / A. DAGLI ORTI / Getty Images Languages Italian History & Culture Basics Vocabulary Grammar English as a Second Language Spanish French German Japanese Mandarin Russian English Grammar View More by Michael San Filippo Michael San Filippo co-wrote The Complete Idiot's Guide to Italian History and Culture. He is a tutor of Italian language and culture. Updated March 17, 2017 The Second Circle: The Wanton. Minos. The Infernal Hurricane. Francesca da Rimini.Così discesi del cerchio primaiogiù nel secondo, che men loco cinghiae tanto più dolor, che punge a guaio.Stavvi Minòs orribilmente, e ringhia:essamina le colpe ne l’intrata;giudica e manda secondo ch’avvinghia.Dico che quando l’anima mal natali vien dinanzi, tutta si confessa;e quel conoscitor de le peccatavede qual loco d’inferno è da essa;10cignesi con la coda tante voltequantunque gradi vuol che giù sia messa.Sempre dinanzi a lui ne stanno molte:vanno a vicenda ciascuna al giudizio,dicono e odono e poi son giù volte.«O tu che vieni al doloroso ospizio»,disse Minòs a me quando mi vide,lasciando l’atto di cotanto offizio,«guarda com’ entri e di cui tu ti fide;non t’inganni l’ampiezza de l’intrare!».20E ’l duca mio a lui: «Perché pur gride?Non impedir lo suo fatale andare:vuolsi così colà dove si puoteciò che si vuole, e più non dimandare».Or incomincian le dolenti notea farmisi sentire; or son venutolà dove molto pianto mi percuote.Io venni in loco d’ogne luce muto,che mugghia come fa mar per tempesta,se da contrari venti è combattuto.30La bufera infernal, che mai non resta,mena li spirti con la sua rapina;voltando e percotendo li molesta.Quando giungon davanti a la ruina,quivi le strida, il compianto, il lamento;bestemmian quivi la virtù divina.Intesi ch’a così fatto tormentoenno dannati i peccator carnali,che la ragion sommettono al talento.E come li stornei ne portan l’ali40nel freddo tempo, a schiera larga e piena,così quel fiato li spiriti malidi qua, di là, di giù, di sù li mena;nulla speranza li conforta mai,non che di posa, ma di minor pena.E come i gru van cantando lor lai,faccendo in aere di sé lunga riga,così vid’ io venir, traendo guai,ombre portate da la detta briga;per ch’i’ dissi: «Maestro, chi son quelle50genti che l’aura nera sì gastiga?».«La prima di color di cui novelletu vuo’ saper», mi disse quelli allotta,«fu imperadrice di molte favelle.A vizio di lussuria fu sì rotta,che libito fé licito in sua legge,per tòrre il biasmo in che era condotta.Ell’ è Semiramìs, di cui si leggeche succedette a Nino e fu sua sposa:tenne la terra che ’l Soldan corregge.60L’altra è colei che s’ancise amorosa,e ruppe fede al cener di Sicheo;poi è Cleopatràs lussurïosa.Elena vedi, per cui tanto reotempo si volse, e vedi ’l grande Achille,che con amore al fine combatteo.Vedi Parìs, Tristano»; e più di milleombre mostrommi e nominommi a dito,ch’amor di nostra vita dipartille.Poscia ch’io ebbi ’l mio dottore udito70nomar le donne antiche e ’ cavalieri,pietà mi giunse, e fui quasi smarrito.I’ cominciai: «Poeta, volontieriparlerei a quei due che ’nsieme vanno,e paion sì al vento esser leggeri».Ed elli a me: «Vedrai quando sarannopiù presso a noi; e tu allor li priegaper quello amor che i mena, ed ei verranno».Sì tosto come il vento a noi li piega,mossi la voce: «O anime affannate,80venite a noi parlar, s’altri nol niega!».Quali colombe dal disio chiamatecon l’ali alzate e ferme al dolce nidovegnon per l’aere, dal voler portate;cotali uscir de la schiera ov’ è Dido,a noi venendo per l’aere maligno,sì forte fu l’affettüoso grido.«O animal grazïoso e benignoche visitando vai per l’aere personoi che tignemmo il mondo di sanguigno,90se fosse amico il re de l’universo,noi pregheremmo lui de la tua pace,poi c’hai pietà del nostro mal perverso.Di quel che udire e che parlar vi piace,noi udiremo e parleremo a voi,mentre che ’l vento, come fa, ci tace.Siede la terra dove nata fuisu la marina dove ’l Po discendeper aver pace co’ seguaci sui.Amor, ch’al cor gentil ratto s’apprende,100prese costui de la bella personache mi fu tolta; e ’l modo ancor m’offende.Amor, ch’a nullo amato amar perdona,mi prese del costui piacer sì forte,che, come vedi, ancor non m’abbandona.Amor condusse noi ad una morte.Caina attende chi a vita ci spense».Queste parole da lor ci fuor porte.Quand’ io intesi quell’ anime offense,china’ il viso, e tanto il tenni basso,110fin che ’l poeta mi disse: «Che pense?».Quando rispuosi, cominciai: «Oh lasso,quanti dolci pensier, quanto disiomenò costoro al doloroso passo!».Poi mi rivolsi a loro e parla’ io,e cominciai: «Francesca, i tuoi martìria lagrimar mi fanno tristo e pio.Ma dimmi: al tempo d’i dolci sospiri,a che e come concedette amoreche conosceste i dubbiosi disiri?».120E quella a me: «Nessun maggior doloreche ricordarsi del tempo felicene la miseria; e ciò sa ’l tuo dottore.Ma s’a conoscer la prima radicedel nostro amor tu hai cotanto affetto,dirò come colui che piange e dice.Noi leggiavamo un giorno per dilettodi Lancialotto come amor lo strinse;soli eravamo e sanza alcun sospetto.Per più fïate li occhi ci sospinse130quella lettura, e scolorocci il viso;ma solo un punto fu quel che ci vinse.Quando leggemmo il disïato risoesser basciato da cotanto amante,questi, che mai da me non fia diviso,la bocca mi basciò tutto tremante.Galeotto fu ’l libro e chi lo scrisse:quel giorno più non vi leggemmo avante».Mentre che l’uno spirto questo disse,l’altro piangëa; sì che di pietade140io venni men così com’ io morisse.E caddi come corpo morto cade.About Dante!Thus I descended out of the first circleDown to the second, that less space begirds,And so much greater dole, that goads to wailing.There standeth Minos horribly, and snarls;Examines the transgressions at the entrance;Judges, and sends according as he girds him.I say, that when the spirit evil-bornCometh before him, wholly it confesses;And this discriminator of transgressionsSeeth what place in Hell is meet for it;10Girds himself with his tail as many timesAs grades he wishes it should be thrust down.Always before him many of them stand;They go by turns each one unto the judgment;They speak, and hear, and then are downward hurled."O thou, that to this dolorous hostelryComest," said Minos to me, when he saw me,Leaving the practice of so great an office,"Look how thou enterest, and in whom thou trustest;Let not the portal's amplitude deceive thee."20And unto him my Guide: "Why criest thou too?Do not impede his journey fate-ordained;It is so willed there where is power to doThat which is willed; and ask no further question."And now begin the dolesome notes to growAudible unto me; now am I comeThere where much lamentation strikes upon me.I came into a place mute of all light,Which bellows as the sea does in a tempest,If by opposing winds 't is combated.30The infernal hurricane that never restsHurtles the spirits onward in its rapine;Whirling them round, and smiting, it molests them.When they arrive before the precipice,There are the shrieks, the plaints, and the laments,There they blaspheme the puissance divine.I understood that unto such a tormentThe carnal malefactors were condemned,Who reason subjugate to appetite.And as the wings of starlings bear them on40In the cold season in large band and full,So doth that blast the spirits maledict;It hither, thither, downward, upward, drives them;No hope doth comfort them for evermore,Not of repose, but even of lesser pain.And as the cranes go chanting forth their lays,Making in air a long line of themselves,So saw I coming, uttering lamentations,Shadows borne onward by the aforesaid stress.Whereupon said I: "Master, who are those50People, whom the black air so castigates?""The first of those, of whom intelligenceThou fain wouldst have," then said he unto me,"The empress was of many languages.To sensual vices she was so abandoned,That lustful she made licit in her law,To remove the blame to which she had been led.She is Semiramis, of whom we readThat she succeeded Ninus, and was his spouse;She held the land which now the Sultan rules.60The next is she who killed herself for love,And broke faith with the ashes of Sichaeus;Then Cleopatra the voluptuous."Helen I saw, for whom so many ruthlessSeasons revolved; and saw the great Achilles,Who at the last hour combated with Love.Paris I saw, Tristan; and more than a thousandShades did he name and point out with his finger,Whom Love had separated from our life.After that I had listened to my Teacher,70Naming the dames of eld and cavaliers,Pity prevailed, and I was nigh bewildered.And I began: "O Poet, willinglySpeak would I to those two, who go together,And seem upon the wind to be so light."And, he to me: "Thou'lt mark, when they shall beNearer to us; and then do thou implore themBy love which leadeth them, and they will come."Soon as the wind in our direction sways them,My voice uplift I: "O ye weary souls!80Come speak to us, if no one interdicts it."As turtle-doves, called onward by desire,With open and steady wings to the sweet nestFly through the air by their volition borne,So came they from the band where Dido is,Approaching us athwart the air malign,So strong was the affectionate appeal."O living creature gracious and benignant,Who visiting goest through the purple airUs, who have stained the world incarnadine,90If were the King of the Universe our friend,We would pray unto him to give thee peace,Since thou hast pity on our woe perverse.Of what it pleases thee to hear and speak,That will we hear, and we will speak to you,While silent is the wind, as it is now.Sitteth the city, wherein I was born,Upon the sea-shore where the Po descendsTo rest in peace with all his retinue.Love, that on gentle heart doth swiftly seize,100Seized this man for the person beautifulThat was ta'en from me, and still the mode offends me.Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving,Seized me with pleasure of this man so strongly,That, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me;Love has conducted us unto one death;Caina waiteth him who quenched our life!"These words were borne along from them to us.As soon as I had heard those souls tormented,I bowed my face, and so long held it down110Until the Poet said to me: "What thinkest?"When I made answer, I began: "Alas!How many pleasant thoughts, how much desire,Conducted these unto the dolorous pass!"Then unto them I turned me, and I spake,And I began: "Thine agonies, Francesca,Sad and compassionate to weeping make me.But tell me, at the time of those sweet sighs,By what and in what manner Love conceded,That you should know your dubious desires?"120And she to me: "There is no greater sorrowThan to be mindful of the happy timeIn misery, and that thy Teacher knows.But, if to recognise the earliest rootOf love in us thou hast so great desire,I will do even as he who weeps and speaks.One day we reading were for our delightOf Launcelot, how Love did him enthral.Alone we were and without any fear.Full many a time our eyes together drew130That reading, and drove the colour from our faces;But one point only was it that o'ercame us.When as we read of the much-longed-for smileBeing by such a noble lover kissed,This one, who ne'er from me shall be divided,Kissed me upon the mouth all palpitating.Galeotto was the book and he who wrote it.That day no farther did we read therein."And all the while one spirit uttered this,The other one did weep so, that, for pity,140I swooned away as if I had been dying,And fell, even as a dead body falls. 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