Canto 5

Thus I descended from the first circle down into the second, which girdles less space, and so much more woe that it goads to wailing. There abides Minos horribly, and snarls; he examines the sins at the entrance; he judges, and he sends according as he entwines himself. I mean, that, when the miscreant spirit comes there before him, it confesses itself wholly, and that discerner of sins sees what place of Hell is for it; he girdles himself with his tail so many times as the degrees he wills it should be sent down. Always before him stand many of them. They go, in turn, each to the judgment; they speak, and hear, and then are whirled below.

I descended from the first circle into the second. It covers less space but holds so much more suffering that it drives souls to wail. There stands Minos, a terrifying figure, snarling. At the entrance, he examines sins, judges souls, and sends them down according to how he coils his tail. When a wicked spirit comes before him, it confesses everything. Minos, the judge of sins, sees where in Hell the spirit belongs. He wraps his tail around himself once for each level he intends to send it down. Many spirits always stand before him. They go one by one to be judged. They speak, hear their sentence, and are then whirled down below.

“O thou that comest to the woeful inn,” said Minos to me, when he saw me, leaving the act of so great an office, “beware how thou enterest, and to whom thou trustest thyself; let not the amplitude of the entrance deceive thee.” And my Leader to him, “Why then dost thou cry out? Hinder not his fated going; thus is it willed there where is power to do that which is willed; and ask thou no more.”

“You who come to this place of sorrow,” said Minos when he saw me, pausing in his important work, “be careful how you enter and whom you trust. Do not let the wide entrance deceive you.” My Guide said to him, “Why do you cry out? Do not hinder his destined journey. It is willed where there is power to do what is willed. Ask no more.”

Now the woeful notes begin to make themselves heard; now am I come where much lamentation smites me. I had come into a place mute of all light, that bellows as the sea does in a tempest, if it be combated by opposing winds. The infernal hurricane that never rests carries along the spirits in its rapine; whirling and smiting it molests them. When they arrive before its rushing blast, here are shrieks, and bewailing, and lamenting; here they blaspheme the power divine. I understood that to such torment are condemned the carnal sinners who subject reason to appetite. And as their wings bear along the starlings in the cold season in a troop large and full, so that blast the evil spirits; hither, thither, down, up it carries them; no hope ever comforts them, not of repose, but even of less pain.

Now the sounds of sorrow begin to reach me. I have come to a place where loud cries of grief strike me. The place is completely dark. It roars like the sea in a storm, when opposing winds clash over it. The hellish hurricane never rests, sweeping the spirits along in its fury. It torments them, whirling and battering them. When they reach its rushing blast, they shriek, weep, and cry out. There they curse the power of God. I understood that this torment is the punishment for those who let lust overcome reason. In the cold season, starlings fly in large, crowded flocks. Just as their wings carry them along, the blast carries the wicked spirits. It drives them here and there, down and up. No hope ever comforts them, not even the hope of less pain, let alone rest.

And as the cranes go singing their lays, making in air a long line of themselves, so saw I come, uttering wails, shades borne along by the aforesaid strife. Wherefore I said, “Master, who are those folk whom the black air so castigates?” “The first of these of whom thou wishest to have knowledge,” said he to me then, “was empress of many tongues. To the vice of luxury was she so abandoned that lust she made licit in her law, to take away the blame she had incurred. She is Semiramis, of whom it is read that she succeeded Ninus and had been his spouse; she held the land which the Soldan rules. That other is she who, for love, killed herself, and broke faith to the ashes of Sichaeus. Next is Cleopatra, the luxurious. See Helen, for whom so long a time of ill revolved; and see the great Achilles, who at the end fought with love. See Paris, Tristan,—” and more than a thousand shades he showed me with his finger, and named them, whom love had parted from our life.

Just as cranes sing while flying in a long line, I saw souls swept along by the violent storm, wailing as they came. So I said, “Master, who are these people punished so harshly by the dark air?” He replied, “The first of them you want to know about was an empress who ruled over people of many languages. She was so devoted to the vice of lust that she made it legal to remove the blame she had brought upon herself. She is Semiramis. We read that she succeeded Ninus and had been his wife. She ruled the land now ruled by the Sultan. The next is the woman who killed herself for love and broke faith with the ashes of Sichaeus. Next is Cleopatra, given to lust. See Helen, for whom so many years of suffering passed. And see the great Achilles, who fought with love at the end. See Paris and Tristan.” He pointed out and named more than a thousand souls whom love had parted from our life.

After I had heard my Teacher name the dames of eld and the cavaliers, pity overcame me, and I was well nigh bewildered. I began, “Poet, willingly would I speak with those two that go together, and seem to be so light upon the wind.” And he to me, “Thou shalt see when they shall be nearer to us, and do thou then pray them by that love which leads them, and they will come.” Soon as the wind sways them toward us I lifted my voice, “O weary souls, come speak to us, if One forbid it not.”

After I heard my Teacher name the ladies and knights of old, pity overcame me, and I was almost bewildered. I began, “Poet, I would like to speak with those two who travel together and seem so light on the wind.” He said to me, “You will see when they come nearer. Then ask them by the love that guides them, and they will come.” As soon as the wind carried them toward us, I called out, “O weary souls, come speak to us, if no one forbids it.”

As doves, called by desire, with wings open and steady, fly through the air to their sweet nest, borne by their will, these issued from the troop where Dido is, coming to us through the malign air, so strong was the compassionate cry.

As doves called by desire fly through the air to their sweet nest, with wings spread and steady, driven by their will, these souls came toward us through the hostile air. They came from the group where Dido was, so strong was the compassionate cry.

“O living creature, gracious and benign, that goest through the lurid air visiting us who stained the world blood-red,—if the King of the universe were a friend we would pray Him for thy peace, since thou hast pity on our perverse ill. Of what it pleaseth thee to hear, and what to speak, we will hear and we will speak to you, while the wind, as now, is hushed for us. The city where I was born sits upon the sea-shore, where the Po, with its followers, descends to have peace. Love, that on gentle heart quickly lays hold, seized him for the fair person that was taken from me, and the mode still hurts me. Love, which absolves no loved one from loving, seized me for the pleasing of him so strongly that, as thou seest, it does not even now abandon me. Love brought us to one death. Caina awaits him who quenched our life.” These words were borne to us from them.

“O living creature, kind and gracious, you travel through this dark air to visit us who stained the world blood-red. If the King of the universe were our friend, we would pray to him for your peace. For you have pity on our suffering, though we did wrong. We will listen and speak to you about whatever you wish, while the wind is quiet for us, as it is now. “The city where I was born lies on the seashore, where the Po and its tributaries flow down to rest. Love, which quickly takes hold of a gentle heart, seized him because of my beautiful body, which was taken from me. The way it was taken still hurts me. Love, which allows no loved one to escape loving in return, seized me so strongly with pleasure in him that, as you see, it has not left me even now. Love led us to a single death. Caina awaits the man who ended our lives.” These words reached us from them.

Soon as I had heard those injured souls I bowed my face, and held it down, until the Poet said to me, “What art thou thinking?” When I replied, I began, “Alas! how many sweet thoughts, how great desire, led these unto the woeful pass.” Then I turned me again to them, and I spoke, and began, “Francesca, thy torments make me sad and piteous to weeping. But tell me, at the time of the sweet sighs by what and how did love concede to you to know the dubious desires?” And she to me, “There is no greater woe than in misery to remember the happy time, and that thy Teacher knows. But if to know the first root of our love thou hast so great a longing, I will do like one who weeps and tells.

As soon as I heard those suffering souls, I lowered my face and kept it down. Then the Poet said to me, “What are you thinking?” I replied, “Alas! How many sweet thoughts and how much desire led them to this sorrowful fate.” Then I turned back to them and said, “Francesca, your suffering makes me so sad and full of pity that I could weep. But tell me, in the time of your sweet sighs, how did love let you know your uncertain desires, and by what means?” She said to me, “There is no greater sorrow than remembering happy times in misery, and your Teacher knows that. But if you long so much to know how our love began, I will tell you through my tears.

“We were reading one day, for delight, of Lancelot, how love constrained him. We were alone and without any suspicion. Many times that reading made us lift our eyes, and took the color from our faces, but only one point was that which overcame us. When we read of the longed-for smile being kissed by such a lover, this one, who never from me shall be divided, kissed my mouth all trembling. Galahaut was the book, and he who wrote it. That day we read in it no farther.”¹⁴

“One day, we were reading for pleasure about how love compelled Lancelot. We were alone and suspected nothing. Many times, the story made us look up at each other and turn pale. But one moment alone overcame us. We read how a lover like Lancelot kissed the smile he had longed for. Then this man, who will never be parted from me, kissed my mouth, trembling all over. The book and its author were Galahaut. That day, we read no further.”¹⁴

While one spirit said this the other was weeping so that through pity I swooned, as if I had been dying, and fell as a dead body falls.

While one spirit spoke, the other wept. I felt such pity that I fainted, as if I were dying, and fell like a dead body.