And I, who straightway look’d, beheld a flag,
Which whirling ran around so rapidly,
That it no pause obtain’d:  and following came
Such a long train of spirits, I should ne’er
Have thought, that death so many had despoil’d.

When some of these I recogniz’d, I saw
And knew the shade of him, who to base fear
Yielding, abjur’d his high estate.  Forthwith
I understood for certain this the tribe
Of those ill spirits both to God displeasing
And to his foes.  These wretches, who ne’er lived,
Went on in nakedness, and sorely stung
By wasps and hornets, which bedew’d their cheeks
With blood, that mix’d with tears dropp’d to their feet,
And by disgustful worms was gather’d there.

Then looking farther onwards I beheld
A throng upon the shore of a great stream: 
Whereat I thus:  “Sir! grant me now to know
Whom here we view, and whence impell’d they seem
So eager to pass o’er, as I discern
Through the blear light?” He thus to me in few: 
“This shalt thou know, soon as our steps arrive
Beside the woeful tide of Acheron.”

Then with eyes downward cast and fill’d with shame,
Fearing my words offensive to his ear,
Till we had reach’d the river, I from speech
Abstain’d.  And lo! toward us in a bark
Comes on an old man hoary white with eld,

Crying, “Woe to you wicked spirits! hope not
Ever to see the sky again.  I come
To take you to the other shore across,
Into eternal darkness, there to dwell
In fierce heat and in ice.  And thou, who there
Standest, live spirit! get thee hence, and leave
These who are dead.”  But soon as he beheld
I left them not, “By other way,” said he,
“By other haven shalt thou come to shore,
Not by this passage; thee a nimbler boat
Must carry.”  Then to him thus spake my guide: 
“Charon! thyself torment not:  so ’t is will’d,
Where will and power are one:  ask thou no more.”

Straightway in silence fell the shaggy cheeks
Of him the boatman o’er the livid lake,
Around whose eyes glar’d wheeling flames.  Meanwhile
Those spirits, faint and naked, color chang’d,
And gnash’d their teeth, soon as the cruel words
They heard.  God and their parents they blasphem’d,
The human kind, the place, the time, and seed
That did engender them and give them birth.

Then all together sorely wailing drew
To the curs’d strand, that every man must pass
Who fears not God.  Charon, demoniac form,
With eyes of burning coal, collects them all,
Beck’ning, and each, that lingers, with his oar
Strikes.  As fall off the light autumnal leaves,
One still another following, till the bough
Strews all its honours on the earth beneath;

E’en in like manner Adam’s evil brood
Cast themselves one by one down from the shore,
Each at a beck, as falcon at his call.