The sculptures on the pavement—Ascent to the Second Circle.
Abreast, like oxen going in a yoke, I with that heavy-laden soul went on, As long as the sweet pedagogue permitted; But when he said, “Leave him, and onward pass, For here ’tis good that with the sail and oars, As much as may be, each push on his barque”; Upright, as walking wills it, I redressed My person, notwithstanding that my thoughts Remained within me downcast and abashed. I had moved on, and followed willingly The footsteps of my Master, and we both Already showed how light of foot we were, When unto me he said: “Cast down thine eyes; ’Twere well for thee, to alleviate the way, To look upon the bed beneath thy feet.” As, that some memory may exist of them, Above the buried dead their tombs in earth Bear sculptured on them what they were before; Whence often there we weep for them afresh, From pricking of remembrance, which alone To the compassionate doth set its spur; So saw I there, but of a better semblance In point of artifice, with figures covered Whate’er as pathway from the mount projects. I saw that one who was created noble More than all other creatures, down from heaven Flaming with lightnings fall upon one side. I saw Briareus smitten by the dart Celestial, lying on the other side, Heavy upon the earth by mortal frost. I saw Thymbraeus, Pallas saw, and Mars, Still clad in armour round about their father, Gaze at the scattered members of the giants. I saw, at foot of his great labor, Nimrod, As if bewildered, looking at the people Who had been proud with him in Sennaar. O Niobe! with what afflicted eyes Thee I beheld upon the pathway traced, Between thy seven and seven children slain! O Saul! how fallen upon thy proper sword Didst thou appear there lifeless in Gilboa, That felt thereafter neither rain nor dew! O mad Arachne! so I thee beheld E’en then half spider, sad upon the shreds Of fabric wrought in evil hour for thee! O Rehoboam! no