The tears outstreamed for sorrow of her smart.
But when I saw no end that could apart
The deadly dewle which she so sore did make,
With doleful voice then thus to her I spake:
"Unwrap thy woes, whatever wight thou be,
And stint in time to spill thyself with plaint.
Tell what thou art and whence, for well I see
Thou canst not dure, with sorrow thus attaint."
And with that word of "sorrow," all forfaint
She looked up, and, prostrate as she lay,
With piteous sound, lo, thus she 'gan to say:
"Alas, I wretch, whom thus thou seest distrained
With wasting woes, that never shall aslake,
Sorrow I am, in endless torments pained
Among the Furies in the infernal lake,
Where Pluto, god of hell, so griesly black,
Doth hold his throne, and Lethe's deadly taste
Doth reave remembrance of each thing forepast.
"I shall thee guide first to, the griesly lake,
And thence unto the blissful place of rest;
Where thou shalt see and hear the plaint they make
That whilom here bare swing among the best.
This shalt thou see; but great is the unrest
That thou must bide, before thou canst attain
Unto the dreadful place where these remain."
And with these words, as I upraised stood
And 'gan to follow her that straight forth paced,
Ere I was ware into a desert wood
We now were come, where, hand in hand embraced,
She led the way, and through the thick so traced
As, but I had been guided by her might,
It was no way for any mortal wight.
An hideous hole, all vast, withouten shape,
Of endless depth, o'erwhelmed with ragged stone,
With ugly mouth and griesly jaws doth gape,
And to our sight confounds itself in one.
Here entered we; and, yeding forth, anone
An horrible lothly lake we might discern,
As black as pitch, that clepèd is Averne.
A deadly gulf where naught but rubbish grows,
With foul black swelth in thickened lumps that lies,
Which up in the air such stinking vapours throws
That over there may fly no fowl but dies,
Choked with the pestilent savours that arise.
Hither we come, whence forth we still did pace,
In dreadful fear amid the dreadful place.
And first within the porch and jaws of hell
Sate deep Remorse of Conscience, all besprent
With tears; and to herself oft would she tell
Her wretchedness, and, cursing, never stent
To sob and sigh, but ever thus lament
With thoughtful care, as she that all in vain
Would wear and waste continually in pain.
Her eyes unsteadfast, rolling here and there,
Whirled on each place, as place that vengeance brought,
So was her mind continually in fear,
Tossed and tormented with the tedious thought
Of those detested crimes which she had wrought;
With dreadful cheer, and looks thrown to the sky,
Wishing for Death, and yet she could not die.
Next saw we Dread, all trembling how he shook,
With foot uncertain proferred here and there;
Benumbed of speech and with a ghastly look
Searched every place, all pale and dead for fear,
His cap borne up with staring of his hair,
Stoynd and amazed at his own shade for dreed,
And fearing greater dangers than was need.
And next in order sad Old Age we found,
His beard all hoar, his eyes hollow and blind,
With drooping cheer still poring on the ground,
As on the place where Nature him assigned
To rest, when that the Sisters had untwined
His vital thread, and ended with their knife
The fleeting course of fast declining life.
There heard we him with broken and hollow plaint
Rue with himself his end approaching fast,
And all for naught his wretched mind torment
With sweet remembrance of his pleasures past,
And fresh delights of lusty youth forwast;
Recounting which, how would he sob and shriek,
And to be young again of Jove beseek!
But and the cruel Fates so fixed be
That time forepast cannot return again,
This one request of Jove yet prayed he:
That in such withered plight and wretched pain
As Eld, accompanied with his lothsome train,
Had brought on him, all were it woe and grief,
He might a while yet linger forth his lief,
And not so soon descend into the pit,
Where Death, when he the mortal corps hath slain,
With retchless hand in grave doth cover it,
Thereafter never to enjoy again
The gladsome light, but, in the ground y-lain,
In depth of darkness waste and wear to naught,
As he had never into the world been brought.
But who had seen him, sobbing how he stood
Unto himself, and how he would bemoan
His youth forepast, as though it wrought him good
To talk of youth, all were his youth foregone,
He would have mused, and marvelled much whereon
This wretched Age should life desire so fain,
And knows full well life doth but length his pain.
Crookbacked he was, toothshaken, and blear-eyed;
Went on three feet, and sometime crept on four;
With old lame bones, that rattled by his side;
His scalp all pilled, and he with eld forlore;
His withered fist still knocking at Death's door;
Fumbling and drivelling as he draws his breath:
For brief, the shape and messenger of Death.
And fast by him pale Malady was placed,
Sore sick in bed, her colour all forgone,
Bereft of stomach, savour, and of taste,
Ne could she brook no meat but broths alone;
Her breath corrupt, her keepers every one
Abhorring her, her sickness past recure,
Detesting physic and all physic's cure.
But oh the doleful sight that then we see!
We turned our look, and on the other side
A griesly shape of Famine mought we see,
With greedy looks, and gaping mouth that cried
And roared for meat, as she should there have died;
Her body thin and bare as any bone,
Whereto was left naught but the case alone.
And that, alas! was gnawen on everywhere,
All full of holes, that I ne mought refrain
From tears to see how she her arms could tear,
And with her teeth gnash on the bones in vain;
When all for naught she fain would so sustain
Her starven corpse, that rather seemed a shade
Than any substance of a creature made.
Great was her force, whom stone wall could not stay,
Her tearing nails snatching at all she saw;
With gaping jaws, that by no means y-may
Be satisfied from hunger of her maw,
But eats herself, as she that hath no law;
Gnawing, alas! her carcass all in vain,
Where you may count each sinew, bone, and vein.
On her while we thus firmly fixed our eyes,
That bled for ruth of such a dreary sight,
Lo, suddenly she shryght in so huge wise
As made hell-gates to shiver with the might:
Wherewith a dart we saw, how it did light
Right on her breast, and therewithal pale Death
Enthrilling it, to reave her of her breath.
And by and by a dumb dead corpse we saw,
Heavy and cold, the shape of Death aright,
That daunts all earthly creatures to his law;
Against whose force in vain it is to fight.
Ne peers, ne princes, nor no mortal wight,
No towns, ne realms, cities, ne strongest tower,
But all perforce must yield unto his power.
His dart anon out of the corpse he took,
And in his hand (a dreadful sight to see)
With great triumph eftsoons the same he shook,
That most of all my fears affrayèd me.
His body dight with naught but bones, perdie;
The naked shape of man there saw I plain,
All save the flesh, the sinew, and the vein.
Lastly stood War, in glittering arms y-clad.
With visage grim, stern looks, and blackly hued.
In his right hand a naked sword he had,
That to the hilts was all with blood embrued;
And in his left, that kings and kingdoms rued,
Famine and fire he held, and therewithal
He razèd towns, and threw down towers and all.
Cities he sacked; and realms, that whilom flowered
In honour, glory, and rule above the best,
He overwhelmed and all their fame devoured,
Consumed, destroyed, wasted, and never ceast,
Till he their wealth, their name, and all opprest:
His face forhewed with wounds, and by his side
There hung his targe with gashes deep and wide.
Thence come we to the horrour and the hell,
The large great kingdoms, and the dreadful reign
Of Pluto in his throne where he did dwell;
|