Not many leaves scann’d o’er, observing well
Thou shalt discover, that your art on her
Obsequious follows, as the learner treads
In his instructor’s step, so that your art
Deserves the name of second in descent
From God.  These two, if thou recall to mind
Creation’s holy book, from the beginning
Were the right source of life and excellence
To human kind.  But in another path
The usurer walks; and Nature in herself
And in her follower thus he sets at nought,
Placing elsewhere his hope.  But follow now
My steps on forward journey bent; for now
The Pisces play with undulating glance
Along the’ horizon, and the Wain lies all
O’er the north-west; and onward there a space
Is our steep passage down the rocky height.”

CANTO XII

The place where to descend the precipice
We came, was rough as Alp, and on its verge
Such object lay, as every eye would shun.

As is that ruin, which Adice’s stream
On this side Trento struck, should’ring the wave,
Or loos’d by earthquake or for lack of prop;
For from the mountain’s summit, whence it mov’d
To the low level, so the headlong rock
Is shiver’d, that some passage it might give
To him who from above would pass; e’en such
Into the chasm was that descent:  and there
At point of the disparted ridge lay stretch’d
The infamy of Crete, detested brood
Of the feign’d heifer:  and at sight of us
It gnaw’d itself, as one with rage distract.

To him my guide exclaim’d:  “Perchance thou deem’st
The King of Athens here, who, in the world
Above, thy death contriv’d.  Monster! avaunt! 
He comes not tutor’d by thy sister’s art,
But to behold your torments is he come.”

Like to a bull, that with impetuous spring
Darts, at the moment when the fatal blow
Hath struck him, but unable to proceed
Plunges on either side; so saw I plunge
The Minotaur; whereat the sage exclaim’d: 
“Run to the passage! while he storms, ’t is well
That thou descend.”  Thus down our road we took
Through those dilapidated crags, that oft
Mov’d underneath my feet, to weight like theirs
Unus’d.  I pond’ring went, and thus he spake: 

“Perhaps thy thoughts are of this ruin’d steep,
Guarded by the brute violence, which I
Have vanquish’d now.  Know then, that when I erst
Hither descended to the nether hell,
This rock was not yet fallen.  But past doubt
(If well I mark) not long ere He arrived,
Who carried off from Dis the mighty spoil
Of the highest circle, then through all its bounds
Such trembling seiz’d the deep concave and foul,
I thought the universe was thrill’d with love,
Whereby, there are who deem, the world hath oft
Been into chaos turn’d:  and in that point,
Here, and elsewhere, that old rock toppled down. 
But fix thine eyes beneath:  the river of blood