The Minotaur — Canto XII

The place where to descend the bank we came Was alpine, and from what was there, moreover, Of such a kind that every eye would shun it. Such as that ruin is which in the flank Smote, on this side of Trent, the Adige, Either by earthquake or by failing stay, For from the mountain's top, from which it moved, Unto the plain, the cliff is shattered so, That some path to one above 'twould give.

Such was the passage downward in that steep, And on the border of the broken chasm The infamy of Crete was stretched along, Who was conceived in the fictitious cow; And when he us beheld, he bit himself, Even as one whom anger racks within.

My Sage towards him shouted: "Peradventure Thou think'st that here may be the Duke of Athens, Who in the world above brought death to thee? Get thee gone, beast, for this one cometh not Instructed by thy sister, but he comes To look upon your punishments."

As is that bull who breaks loose at the moment In which he has received the mortal blow, Who cannot walk, but staggers here and there, The Minotaur beheld I doing likewise; And he, the wary, cried: "Run to the passage; While he wroth, 'tis well thou shouldst descend."

Thus down we took our way o'er that discharge Of stones, which oftentimes did move themselves Beneath my feet, from the unwonted burden. Thoughtful I went; and he said: "Thou art thinking Perhaps upon this ruin, which is guarded By that brute anger which just now I quenched."

"Now will I have thee know, the other time I here descended to the nether Hell, This precipice had not yet fallen down. But truly, if I well discern, a little Before His coming who the mighty spoil Bore off from Dis, in the supernal circle, Upon all sides the deep and loathsome valley Trembled so, that I thought the Universe Was thrilled with love, by which there are who think The world ofttimes converted into chaos."

"And at that moment this ancestral rock Both here and elsewhere made such overthrow. But fix thine eyes below; for draweth near The river of blood, in which boils every one Who by his violence injures other people."

O blind cupidity, O wrath insane, That spurs us onward so in our short life, And in the eternal then so badly steeps us! I saw an ample moat bent like a bow, As one which all the plain encompasses, Conformable to what my Guide had said.

And between this and the embankment's foot Centaurs in file were running, armed with arrows, As in the world they used the chase to follow. Beholding us descend, each one stood still, And from the squadron three detached themselves, With bows and shafts in advance selected.

And from afar one cried: "Unto what torment Come ye, who down the hillside are descending? Tell us from there; if not, I draw the bow." My Master said: "Our answer will we make To Chiron, near you there; in evil hour, That will of thine was evermore so hasty."

Then touched me, and said: "That one is Nessus, Who died for the fair Deianira, And wrought himself his vengeance for himself. And he in the midst, who at his breast is gazing, Is the great Chiron, who brought up Achilles; That other Pholus is, who was so wrathful."

Thousands and thousands go about the moat Shooting with arrows whatsoe'er soul lifts Itself out of the blood more than its crime permits. We drew unto those monsters fleet of foot; Chiron took up an arrow, and with the notch Backward upon his jaws he put his beard.

After he had uncovered his great mouth, He said to his companions: "Are you ware That he behind moveth whate'er he touches? Thus are not wont to do the feet of dead men." And my good Guide, who now was at his breast, Where the two natures are together joined, Replied: "He is indeed alive, and thus alone Me it behoves to show him the dark valley; Necessity, and not delight, impels us."

"Some one from singing the Hallelujah ceased, Who unto me committed this new office; No thief is he, nor I a spirit of fraud. But by that virtue through which I am moving My steps along this savage thoroughfare, Give us some one of thine, to be with us, And who may show us where to ford the stream, And who may carry this one on his back; For 'tis no spirit that can walk the air."

Upon his right breast Chiron wheeled about, And said to Nessus: "Turn and do thou guide them, And warn off any other band that meets you."

We moved along with the faithful escort Along the brink of the vermilion boiling, Wherein the boiled were uttering loud laments. People I saw within up to the brow, And the great Centaur said: "Tyrants are these, Who dealt in bloodshed and in pillaging."

"Here they bewail their deceitless crimes; Here Alexander is, and Dionysius fierce, Who upon Sicily brought dolorous years. That forehead there which has the hair so black Is Azzolino; and the other one, Who blond is, is Obizzo da Esti, who, in truth, Up in the world was by his step-son slain."

Then I turned round unto the Poet, and he Said: "This one now be first to thee, and I Second." A little farther on the Centaur Stopped near a folk, who far down as the throat Seemed from that boiling stream to issue forth.

A shade he showed us on one side alone, Saying: "He cleft asunder in God's bosom The heart that still upon the Thames is honoured." Then people saw I, who from out the river Lifted their heads and also all the chest; And many of these I recognised full well.

Thus ever more and more grew shallow that blood, Until it only boiled the feet alone; And there our passage was across the moat. "Even as thou seest that upon this side The boiling stream continually diminishes," The Centaur said, "I would have thee believe That on this other more and more declines Its bottom, till it comes again to where 'Tis meet that tyranny should groan. The divine justice here below torments That Attila, who was a scourge on earth, And Pyrrhus and Sextus; and for ever milks The tears which with the boiling it unseals."

Then we turned back, and passed the ford again At the point where it was shallow enough to cross.