{
  "meta": {
    "schema_version": "1.1",
    "endpoint": "/api/sources/divine-comedy/inferno/canto-31.json"
  },
  "work": {
    "slug": "inferno",
    "name": "Inferno"
  },
  "parents": [
    {
      "slug": "divine-comedy",
      "name": "Divine Comedy",
      "url": "/sources/divine-comedy/"
    }
  ],
  "chapter": {
    "num": 31,
    "slug": "canto-31",
    "title": "Inferno · Canto 31",
    "of": 34,
    "words": 1362,
    "text": "## Inferno Canto 31\n\n\nCanto XXXI\n\nArgument\n\nThe Poets, following the sound of a loud horn, are led by it to the ninth\ncircle, in which there are four rounds, one enclosed within the other, and\ncontaining as many sorts of traitors; but the present Canto shows only that\nthe circle is encompassed with Giants, one of whom. Antaeus, takes them both\nin his arms and places them at the bottom of the circle.\n\nThe very tongue, whose keen reproof before\nHad wounded me, that either cheek was stain'd,\nNow minister'd my cure. So have I heard,\nAchilles' and his father's javelin caused\nPain first, and then the boon of health restored.\n\nTurning our back upon the vale of woe,\nWe cross'd the encircled mound in silence. There\nWas less than day and less than night, that far\nMine eye advanced not: but I heard a horn\nSounded so loud, the peal it rang had made\nThe thunder feeble. Following its course\nThe adverse way, my strained eyes were bent\nOn that one spot. So terrible a blast\nOrlando[1] blew not, when that dismal rout\nO'er threw the host of Charlemain, and quench'd\nHis saintly warfare. Thitherward not long\nMy head was raised, when many a lofty tower\nMethought I spied. \"Master,\" said I, \"what land\nIs this?\" He answer'd straight: \"Too long a space\nOf intervening darkness has thine eye\nTo traverse: thou hast therefore widely err'd\nIn thy imagining. Thither arrived\n\n[1: When Charlemain with all his peerage fell at Fontarabia.\" Milton,\nParadis Lost, b. i. 586. See Warton's Hist. of Eng. Poetry, vol. i. sect. iii.\np. 132. \"This is the horn which Orlando won from the giant Jatmund, and which,\nas Turpin and the Islandic bards report, was endued with magical power, and\nmight be heard at the distance of twenty miles.\" See the Paradise, Canto\nxviii.]\n\nThou well shalt see, how distance can delude\nThe sense. A little therefore urge thee on.\"\n\nThen tenderly he caught me by the hand;\n\"Yet know,\" said he, \"ere farther we advance,\nThat it less strange may seem, these are not towers,\nBut giants. In the pit they stand immersed,\nEach from his navel downward, round the bank.\"\n\nAs when a fog disperseth gradually,\nOur vision traces what the mist involves\nCondensed in air; so piercing through the gross\nAnd gloomy atmosphere, as more and more\nWe near'd toward the brink, mine error fled\nAnd fear came o'er me. As with circling round\nOf turrets, Montereggion[2] crowns his walls;\nE'en thus the shore, encompassing the abyss,\nWas turreted with giants, half their length\nUprearing, horrible, whom Jove from Heaven\nYet threatens, when his muttering thunder rolls.\n\n[2: A castle near Siena.]\n\nOf one already I descried the face,\nShoulders and breast, and of the belly huge\nGreat part, and both arms down along his ribs.\n\nAll - teeming Nature, when her plastic hand\nLeft framing of these monsters, did display\nPast doubt her wisdom, taking from mad War\nSuch slaves to do his bidding; and if she\nRepent her not of the elephant and whale,\nWho ponders well confesses her therein\nWiser and more discreet; for when brute force\nAnd evil will are back'd with subtlety,\nResistance none avails. His visage seem'd\nIn length and bulk, as doth the pine[3] that tops\nSaint Peter's Roman fane; and the other bones\nOf like proportion, so that from above\nThe bank, which girdled him below, such height\nArose his stature, that three Friezelanders\n\n[3: \"The pine.\" \"The large pine of bronze, which once ornamented the\ntop of the mole of Adrian, afterwards decorated the top of the belfry of St.\nPeter; and having (according to Buti) been thrown down by lightning, it was\ntransferred to the place where it now is, in the Pope's garden, by the side of\nthe great corridor of Belvedere. In the time of our Poet, the pine was then\neither on the belfry or on the steps of St. Peter's.\"]\n\nHad striven in vain to reach but to his hair.\nFull thirty ample palms was he exposed\nDownward from whence a man his garment loops.\n\"Raphel[4] bai ameth, sabi almi:\"\nSo shouted his fierce lips, which sweeter hymns\nBecame not; and my guide address'd him thus:\n\"O senseless spirit! let thy horn for thee\nInterpret: therewith vent thy rage, if rage\nOr other passion wring thee. Search thy neck,\nThere shalt thou find the belt that binds it on.\nSpirit confused! lo, on thy mighty breast\nWhere hangs the baldrick!\" Then to me he spake:\n\"He doth accuse himself. Nimrod is this,\nThrough whose ill counsel in the world no more\nOne tongue prevails. But pass we on, nor waste\nOur words; for so each language is to him,\nAs his to others, understood by none.\"\n\n[4: Unmeaning sounds, meant, it is supposed, to express the confusion\nat the building of Babel.]\n\nThen to the leftward turning sped we forth,\nAnd at a sling's throw found another shade\nFar fiercer and more huge. I cannot say\nWhat master hand had girt him; but he held\nBehind the right arm fetter'd, and before,\nThe other, with a chain, that fasten'd him\nFrom the neck down; and five times round his form\nApparent met the wreathed links. \"This proud one\nWould of his strength against almighty Jove\nMake trial,\" said my guide: \"whence he is thus\nRequited: Ephialtes his they call.\nGreat was his prowess, when the giants brought\nFear on the gods: those arms, which then he plied,\nNow moves he never.\" Forthwith I return'd:\n\"Fain would I, if't were possible, mine eyes,\nOf Briareus immeasurable, gain'd\nExperience next.\" He answered: \"Thou shalt see\nNot far from hence Antaeus, who both speaks\nAnd is unfetter'd, who shall place us there\nWhere guilt is at its depth. Far onward stands\nWhom thou wouldst fain behold, in chains, and made\n\nLike to this spirit, save that in his looks\nMore fell he seems.\" By violent earthquake rock'd\nNe'er shook a tower, so reeling to its base,\nAs Ephialtes. More than ever then\nI dreaded death; nor than the terror more\nHad needed, if I had not seen the cords\nThat held him fast. We, straightway journeying on,\nCame to Antaeus, who, five ells complete\nWithout the head, forth issued from the cave.\n\n\"O thou, who in the fortunate vale,[5] that made\nGreat Scipio heir of glory, when his sword\nDrove back the troop of Hannibal in flight,\nWho thence of old didst carry for thy spoil\nAn hundred lions; and if thou hadst fought\nIn the high conflict on thy brethren's side,\nSeems as men yet believed, that through thine arm\nThe sons of earth had conquer'd; now vouchsafe\nTo place us down beneath, where numbing cold\nLocks up Cocytus. Force not that we crave\nOr Tityus' help or Typhon's. Here is one\nCan give what in this realm ye covet. Stoop\nTherefore, nor scornfully distort thy lip.\nHe in the upper world can yet bestow\nRenown on thee; for he doth live, and looks\nFor life yet longer, if before the time\nGrace call him not unto herself.\" Thus spake\nThe teacher. He in haste forth stretch'd his hands,\nAnd caught my guide. Alcides[6] whilom felt\nThat grapple, straiten'd sore. Soon as my guide\nHad felt it, he bespake me thus: \"This way,\nThat I may clasp thee;\" then so caught me up,\nThat we were both one burden. As appears\nThe tower of Carisenda,[7] from beneath\nWhere it doth lean, if chance a passing cloud\nSo sail across, that opposite it hangs;\nSuch then Antaeus seem'd, as at mine ease\nI mark'd him stooping. I were fain at times\n\n[5: The country near Carthage.]\n\n[6: The combat between Hercules (Alcides) and Antaeus is adduced by\nthe poet in his treatise \"De Monarchia,\" lib. ii., as proof of God's judgment\ndisplayed in the duel, according to the singular superstition of those times.]\n\n[7: The leaning tower at Bologna.]\n\nTo have past another way. Yet in the abyss,\nThat Lucifer with Judas low ingulfs,\nLightly he placed us; nor, there leaning, stay'd;\nBut rose, as in a bark the stately mast.",
    "project_translation": false,
    "license": null,
    "methodology_url": null
  }
}