And thus the good instructor:  “Now, my son! 
Draws near the city, that of Dis is nam’d,
With its grave denizens, a mighty throng.”

I thus:  “The minarets already, Sir! 
There certes in the valley I descry,
Gleaming vermilion, as if they from fire
Had issu’d.”  He replied:  “Eternal fire,
That inward burns, shows them with ruddy flame
Illum’d; as in this nether hell thou seest.”

We came within the fosses deep, that moat
This region comfortless.  The walls appear’d
As they were fram’d of iron.  We had made
Wide circuit, ere a place we reach’d, where loud
The mariner cried vehement:  “Go forth! 
The’ entrance is here!” Upon the gates I spied
More than a thousand, who of old from heaven
Were hurl’d.  With ireful gestures, “Who is this,”
They cried, “that without death first felt, goes through
The regions of the dead?” My sapient guide
Made sign that he for secret parley wish’d;
Whereat their angry scorn abating, thus
They spake:  “Come thou alone; and let him go
Who hath so hardily enter’d this realm. 
Alone return he by his witless way;
If well he know it, let him prove.  For thee,
Here shalt thou tarry, who through clime so dark
Hast been his escort.”  Now bethink thee, reader! 
What cheer was mine at sound of those curs’d words. 
I did believe I never should return.

“O my lov’d guide! who more than seven times
Security hast render’d me, and drawn
From peril deep, whereto I stood expos’d,
Desert me not,” I cried, “in this extreme. 
And if our onward going be denied,
Together trace we back our steps with speed.”

My liege, who thither had conducted me,
Replied:  “Fear not:  for of our passage none
Hath power to disappoint us, by such high
Authority permitted.  But do thou
Expect me here; meanwhile thy wearied spirit
Comfort, and feed with kindly hope, assur’d
I will not leave thee in this lower world.”

This said, departs the sire benevolent,
And quits me.  Hesitating I remain
At war ’twixt will and will not in my thoughts.

I could not hear what terms he offer’d them,
But they conferr’d not long, for all at once
To trial fled within.  Clos’d were the gates
By those our adversaries on the breast
Of my liege lord:  excluded he return’d
To me with tardy steps.  Upon the ground
His eyes were bent, and from his brow eras’d
All confidence, while thus with sighs he spake: 
“Who hath denied me these abodes of woe?”
Then thus to me:  “That I am anger’d, think
No ground of terror:  in this trial I
Shall vanquish, use what arts they may within
For hindrance.  This their insolence, not new,
Erewhile at gate less secret they display’d,
Which still is without bolt; upon its arch
Thou saw’st the deadly scroll:  and even now
On this side of its entrance, down the steep,
Passing the circles, unescorted, comes
One whose strong might can open us this land.”