He whose omniscience everything transcends
The heavens created, and gave who should guide them,That every part to every part may shine,
Distributing the light in equal measure;He in like manner to the mundane splendoursOrdained a general ministress and guide,
That she might change at times the empty treasuresFrom race to race, from one blood to another,Beyond resistance of all human wisdom.
Therefore one people triumphs, and anotherLanguishes, in pursuance of her judgment,Which hidden is, as in the grass a serpent.
Your knowledge has no counterstand against her;She makes provision, judges, and pursuesHer governance, as theirs the other gods.
Her permutations have not any truce;Necessity makes her precipitate,So often cometh who his turn obtains.
And this is she who is so crucifiedEven by those who ought to give her praise,Giving her blame amiss, and bad repute.
But she is blissful, and she hears it not;Among the other primal creatures gladsomeShe turns her sphere, and blissful she rejoices.
Let us descend now unto greater woe;Already sinks each star that was ascendingWhen I set out, and loitering is forbidden.”
We crossed the circle to the other bank,Near to a fount that boils, and pours itselfAlong a gully that runs out of it.
The water was more sombre far than perse;And we, in company with the dusky waves,Made entrance downward by a path uncouth.
A marsh it makes, which has the name of Styx,This tristful brooklet, when it has descendedDown to the foot of the malign gray shores.
And I, who stood intent upon beholding,Saw people mud-besprent in that lagoon,All of them naked and with angry look.
They smote each other not alone with hands,But with the head and with the breast and feet,Tearing each other piecemeal with their teeth.
Said the good Master: “Son, thou now beholdestThe souls of those whom anger overcame;And likewise I would have thee know for certain
Beneath the water people are who sighAnd make this water bubble at the surface,As the eye tells thee wheresoe’er it turns.
Fixed in the mire they say, ‘We sullen wereIn the sweet air, which by the sun is gladdened,Bearing within ourselves the sluggish reek;
Now we are sullen in this sable mire.’This hymn do they keep gurgling in their throats,For with unbroken words they cannot say it.”
Thus we went circling round the filthy fenA great arc ’twixt the dry bank and the swamp,With eyes turned unto those who gorge the mire;
Unto the foot of a tower we came at last.
Inferno: Canto VIII
I say, continuing, that long beforeWe to the foot of that high tower had come,Our eyes went upward to the summit of it,
By reason of two flamelets we saw placed there,And from afar another answer them,So far, that hardly could the eye attain it.
And, to the sea of all discernment turned,I said: “What sayeth this, and what respondethThat other fire? and who are they that made it?”
And he to me: “Across the turbid wavesWhat is expected thou canst now discern,If reek of the morass conceal it not.”
Cord never shot an arrow from itselfThat sped away athwart the air so swift,As I beheld a very little boat
Come o’er the water tow’rds us at that moment,Under the guidance of a single pilot,Who shouted, “Now art thou arrived, fell soul?”
“Phlegyas, Phlegyas, thou criest out in vainFor this once,” said my Lord; “thou shalt not have usLonger than in the passing of the slough.”
As he who listens to some great deceitThat has been done to him, and then resents it,Such became Phlegyas, in his gathered wrath.
My Guide descended down into the boat,And then he made me enter after him,And only when I entered seemed it laden.
Soon as the Guide and I were in the boat,The antique prow goes on its way, dividingMore of the water than ’tis wont with others.
While we were running through the dead canal,Uprose in front of me one full of mire,And said, “Who ’rt thou that comest ere the hour?”
And I to him: “Although I come, I stay not;But who art thou that hast become so squalid?”“Thou seest that I am one who weeps,” he answered.
And I to him: “With weeping and with wailing,Thou spirit maledict, do thou remain;For thee I know, though thou art all defiled.”
Then stretched he both his hands unto the boat;Whereat my wary Master thrust him back,Saying, “Away there with the other dogs!”
Thereafter with his arms he clasped my neck;He kissed my face, and said: “Disdainful soul,Blessed be she who bore thee in her bosom.
That was an arrogant person in the world;Goodness is none, that decks his memory;So likewise here his shade is furious.
How many are esteemed great kings up there,Who here shall be like unto swine in mire,Leaving behind them horrible dispraises!”
And I: “My Master, much should I be pleased,If I could see him soused into this broth,Before we issue forth out of the lake.”
And he to me: “Ere unto thee the shoreReveal itself, thou shalt be satisfied;Such a desire ’tis meet thou shouldst enjoy.”
A little after that, I saw such havocMade of him by the people of the mire,That still I praise and thank my God for it.
They all were shouting, “At Philippo Argenti!”And that exasperate spirit FlorentineTurned round upon himself with his own teeth.
We left him there, and more of him I tell not;But on mine ears there smote a lamentation,Whence forward I intent unbar mine eyes.
And the good Master said: “Even now, my Son,The city draweth near whose name is Dis,With the grave citizens, with the great throng.”
And I: “Its mosques already, Master, clearlyWithin there in the valley I discernVermilion, as if issuing from the fire
They were.” And he to me: “The fire eternalThat kindles them within makes them look red,As thou beholdest in this nether Hell.”
Then we arrived within the moats profound,That circumvallate that disconsolate city;The walls appeared to me to be of iron.
Not without making first a circuit wide,We came unto a place where loud the pilotCried out to us, “Debark, here is the entrance.”
More than a thousand at the gates I sawOut of the Heavens rained down, who angrilyWere saying, “Who is this that without death
Goes through the kingdom of the people dead?”And my sagacious Master made a signOf wishing secretly to speak with them.
A little then they quelled their great disdain,And said: “Come thou alone, and he begoneWho has so boldly entered these dominions.
Let him return alone by his mad road;Try, if he can; for thou shalt here remain,Who hast escorted him through such dark regions.”
Think, Reader, if I was discomfortedAt utterance of the accursed words;For never to return here I believed.
“O my dear Guide, who more than seven timesHast rendered me security, and drawn meFrom imminent peril that before me stood,
Do not desert me,” said I, “thus undone;And if the going farther be denied us,Let us retrace our steps together swiftly.”
And that Lord, who had led me thitherward,Said unto me: “Fear not; because our passageNone can take from us, it by Such is given.
But here await me, and thy weary spiritComfort and nourish with a better hope;For in this nether world I will not leave thee.”
So onward goes and there abandons meMy Father sweet, and I remain in doubt,For No and Yes within my head contend.
I could not hear what he proposed to them;But with them there he did not linger long,Ere each within in rivalry ran back.
They closed the portals, those our adversaries,On my Lord’s breast, who had remained withoutAnd turned to me with footsteps far between.
His eyes cast down, his forehead shorn had heOf all its boldness, and he said, with sighs,“Who has denied to me the dolesome houses?”
And unto me: “Thou, because I am angry,Fear not, for I will conquer in the trial,Whatever for defence within be planned.
This arrogance of theirs is nothing new;For once they used it at less secret gate,Which finds itself without a fastening still.
O’er it didst thou behold the dead inscription;And now this side of it descends the steep,Passing across the circles without escort,
One by whose means the city shall be opened.”
Inferno: Canto IX
That hue which cowardice brought out on me,Beholding my Conductor backward turn,Sooner repressed within him his new colour.
He stopped attentive, like a man who listens,Because the eye could not conduct him farThrough the black air, and through the heavy fog.
“Still it behoveth us to win the fight,”Began he; “Else…Such offered us herself…O how I long that some one here arrive!”
Well I perceived, as soon as the beginningHe covered up with what came afterward,That they were words quite different from the first;
But none the less his saying gave me fear,Because I carried out the broken phrase,Perhaps to a worse meaning than he had.
“Into this bottom of the doleful conchDoth any e’er descend from the first grade,Which for its pain has only hope cut off?”
This question put I; and he answered me:“Seldom it comes to pass that one of usMaketh the journey upon which I go.
True is it, once before I here belowWas conjured by that pitiless Erictho,Who summoned back the shades unto their bodies.
Naked of me short while the flesh had been,Before within that wall she made me enter,To bring a spirit from the circle of Judas;
That is the lowest region and the darkest,And farthest from the heaven which circles all.Well know I the way; therefore be reassured.
This fen, which a prodigious stench exhales,Encompasses about the city dolent,Where now we cannot enter without anger.”
And more he said, but not in mind I have it;Because mine eye had altogether drawn meTow’rds the high tower with the red-flaming summit,
Where in a moment saw I swift uprisenThe three infernal Furies stained with blood,Who had the limbs of women and their mien,
And with the greenest hydras were begirt;Small serpents and cerastes were their tresses,Wherewith their horrid temples were entwined.
And he who well the handmaids of the QueenOf everlasting lamentation knew,Said unto me: “Behold the fierce Erinnys.
This is Megaera, on the left-hand side;She who is weeping on the right, Alecto;Tisiphone is between;” and then was silent.
Each one her breast was rending with her nails;They beat them with their palms, and cried so loud,That I for dread pressed close unto the Poet.
“Medusa come, so we to stone will change him!”All shouted looking down; “in evil hourAvenged we not on Theseus his assault!”
“Turn thyself round, and keep thine eyes close shut,For if the Gorgon appear, and thou shouldst see it,No more returning upward would there be.”
Thus said the Master; and he turned me roundHimself, and trusted not unto my handsSo far as not to blind me with his own.
O ye who have undistempered intellects,Observe the doctrine that conceals itselfBeneath the veil of the mysterious verses!
And now there came across the turbid wavesThe clangour of a sound with terror fraught,Because of which both of the margins trembled;
Not otherwise it was than of a windImpetuous on account of adverse heats,That smites the forest, and, without restraint,
The branches rends, beats down, and bears away;Right onward, laden with dust, it goes superb,And puts to flight the wild beasts and the shepherds.
Mine eyes he loosed, and said: “Direct the nerveOf vision now along that ancient foam,There yonder where that smoke is most intense.”
Even as the frogs before the hostile serpentAcross the water scatter all abroad,Until each one is huddled in the earth.
More than a thousand ruined souls I saw,Thus fleeing from before one who on footWas passing o’er the Styx with soles unwet.
From off his face he fanned that unctuous air,Waving his left hand oft in front of him,And only with that anguish seemed he weary.
Well I perceived one sent from Heaven was he,And to the Master turned; and he made signThat I should quiet stand, and bow before him.
Ah! how disdainful he appeared to me!He reached the gate, and with a little rodHe opened it, for there was no resistance.
“O banished out of Heaven, people despised!”Thus he began upon the horrid threshold;“Whence is this arrogance within you couched?
Wherefore recalcitrate against that will,From which the end can never be cut off,And which has many times increased your pain?
What helpeth it to butt against the fates?Your Cerberus, if you remember well,For that still bears his chin and gullet peeled.”
Then he returned along the miry road,And spake no word to us, but had the lookOf one whom other care constrains and goads
Than that of him who in his presence is;And we our feet directed tow’rds the city,After those holy words all confident.
Within we entered without any contest;And I, who inclination had to seeWhat the condition such a fortress holds,
Soon as I was within, cast round mine eye,And see on every hand an ample plain,Full of distress and torment terrible.
Even as at Arles, where stagnant grows the Rhone,Even as at Pola near to the Quarnaro,That shuts in Italy and bathes its borders,
The sepulchres make all the place uneven;So likewise did they there on every side,Saving that there the manner was more bitter;
For flames between the sepulchres were scattered,By which they so intensely heated were,That iron more so asks not any art.
All of their coverings uplifted were,And from them issued forth such dire laments,Sooth seemed they of the wretched and tormented.
And I: “My Master, what are all those peopleWho, having sepulture within those tombs,Make themselves audible by doleful sighs?”
And he to me: “Here are the Heresiarchs,With their disciples of all sects, and muchMore than thou thinkest laden are the tombs.
Here like together with its like is buried;And more and less the monuments are heated.”And when he to the right had turned, we passed
Between the torments and high parapets.
Inferno: Canto X
Now onward goes, along a narrow pathBetween the torments and the city wall,My Master, and I follow at his back.
“O power supreme, that through these impious circlesTurnest me,” I began, “as pleases thee,Speak to me, and my longings satisfy;
The people who are lying in these tombs,Might they be seen? already are upliftedThe covers all, and no one keepeth guard.”
And he to me: “They all will be closed upWhen from Jehoshaphat they shall returnHere with the bodies they have left above.
Their cemetery have upon this sideWith Epicurus all his followers,Who with the body mortal make the soul;
But in the question thou dost put to me,Within here shalt thou soon be satisfied,And likewise in the wish thou keepest silent.”
And I: “Good Leader, I but keep concealedFrom thee my heart, that I may speak the less,Nor only now hast thou thereto disposed me.”
“O Tuscan, thou who through the city of fireGoest alive, thus speaking modestly,Be pleased to stay thy footsteps in this place.
Thy mode of speaking makes thee manifestA native of that noble fatherland,To which perhaps I too molestful was.”
Upon a sudden issued forth this soundFrom out one of the tombs; wherefore I pressed,Fearing, a little nearer to my Leader.
And unto me he said: “Turn thee; what dost thou?Behold there Farinata who has risen;From the waist upwards wholly shalt thou see him.”
I had already fixed mine eyes on his,And he uprose erect with breast and frontE’en as if Hell he had in great despite.
And with courageous hands and prompt my LeaderThrust me between the sepulchres towards him,Exclaiming, “Let thy words explicit be.”
As soon as I was at the foot of his tombSomewhat he eyed me, and, as if disdainful,Then asked of me, “Who were thine ancestors?”
I, who desirous of obeying was,Concealed it not, but all revealed to him;Whereat he raised his brows a little upward.
Then said he: “Fiercely adverse have they beenTo me, and to my fathers, and my party;So that two several times I scattered them.”
“If they were banished, they returned on all sides,”I answered him, “the first time and the second;But yours have not acquired that art aright.”
Then there uprose upon the sight, uncoveredDown to the chin, a shadow at his side;I think that he had risen on his knees.
Round me he gazed, as if solicitudeHe had to see if some one else were with me,But after his suspicion was all spent,
Weeping, he said to me: “If through this blindPrison thou goest by loftiness of genius,Where is my son? and why is he not with thee?”
And I to him: “I come not of myself;He who is waiting yonder leads me here,Whom in disdain perhaps your Guido had.”
His language and the mode of punishmentAlready unto me had read his name;On that account my answer was so full.
Up starting suddenly, he cried out: “HowSaidst thou,—he had? Is he not still alive?Does not the sweet light strike upon his eyes?”
When he became aware of some delay,Which I before my answer made, supineHe fell again, and forth appeared no more.
But the other, magnanimous, at whose desireI had remained, did not his aspect change,Neither his neck he moved, nor bent his side.
“And if,” continuing his first discourse,“They have that art,” he said, “not learned aright,That more tormenteth me, than doth this bed.
But fifty times shall not rekindled beThe countenance of the Lady who reigns here,Ere thou shalt know how heavy is that art;
And as thou wouldst to the sweet world return,Say why that people is so pitilessAgainst my race in each one of its laws?”
Whence I to him: “The slaughter and great carnageWhich have with crimson stained the Arbia, causeSuch orisons in our temple to be made.”
After his head he with a sigh had shaken,“There I was not alone,” he said, “nor surelyWithout a cause had with the others moved.
But there I was alone, where every oneConsented to the laying waste of Florence,He who defended her with open face.”
“Ah! so hereafter may your seed repose,”I him entreated, “solve for me that knot,Which has entangled my conceptions here.
It seems that you can see, if I hear rightly,Beforehand whatsoe’er time brings with it,And in the present have another mode.”
“We see, like those who have imperfect sight,The things,” he said, “that distant are from us;So much still shines on us the Sovereign Ruler.
When they draw near, or are, is wholly vainOur intellect, and if none brings it to us,Not anything know we of your human state.
Hence thou canst understand, that wholly deadWill be our knowledge from the moment whenThe portal of the future shall be closed.”
Then I, as if compunctious for my fault,Said: “Now, then, you will tell that fallen one,That still his son is with the living joined.
And if just now, in answering, I was dumb,Tell him I did it because I was thinkingAlready of the error you have solved me.”
And now my Master was recalling me,Wherefore more eagerly I prayed the spiritThat he would tell me who was with him there.
He said: “With more than a thousand here I lie;Within here is the second Frederick,And the Cardinal, and of the rest I speak not.”
Thereon he hid himself; and I towardsThe ancient poet turned my steps, reflectingUpon that saying, which seemed hostile to me.
He moved along; and afterward thus going,He said to me, “Why art thou so bewildered?”And I in his inquiry satisfied him.
“Let memory preserve what thou hast heardAgainst thyself,” that Sage commanded me,“And now attend here;” and he raised his finger.
“When thou shalt be before the radiance sweetOf her whose beauteous eyes all things behold,From her thou’lt know the journey of thy life.”
Unto the left hand then he turned his feet;We left the wall, and went towards the middle,Along a path that strikes into a valley,
Which even up there unpleasant made its stench.
Inferno: Canto XI
Upon the margin of a lofty bankWhich great rocks broken in a circle made,We came upon a still more cruel throng;
And there, by reason of the horribleExcess of stench the deep abyss throws out,We drew ourselves aside behind the cover
Of a great tomb, whereon I saw a writing,Which said: “Pope Anastasius I hold,Whom out of the right way Photinus drew.”
“Slow it behoveth our descent to be,So that the sense be first a little usedTo the sad blast, and then we shall not heed it.”
The Master thus; and unto him I said,“Some compensation find, that the time pass notIdly;” and he: “Thou seest I think of that.
My son, upon the inside of these rocks,”Began he then to say, “are three small circles,From grade to grade, like those which thou art leaving.
They all are full of spirits maledict;But that hereafter sight alone suffice thee,Hear how and wherefore they are in constraint.
Of every malice that wins hate in Heaven,Injury is the end; and all such endEither by force or fraud afflicteth others.
But because fraud is man’s peculiar vice,More it displeases God; and so stand lowestThe fraudulent, and greater dole assails them.
All the first circle of the Violent is;But since force may be used against three persons,In three rounds ’tis divided and constructed.
To God, to ourselves, and to our neighbour can weUse force; I say on them and on their things,As thou shalt hear with reason manifest.
A death by violence, and painful wounds,Are to our neighbour given; and in his substanceRuin, and arson, and injurious levies;
Whence homicides, and he who smites unjustly,Marauders, and freebooters, the first roundTormenteth all in companies diverse.
Man may lay violent hands upon himselfAnd his own goods; and therefore in the secondRound must perforce without avail repent
Whoever of your world deprives himself,Who games, and dissipates his property,And weepeth there, where he should jocund be.
Violence can be done the Deity,In heart denying and blaspheming Him,And by disdaining Nature and her bounty.
And for this reason doth the smallest roundSeal with its signet Sodom and Cahors,And who, disdaining God, speaks from the heart.
Fraud, wherewithal is every conscience stung,A man may practise upon him who trusts,And him who doth no confidence imburse.
This latter mode, it would appear, disseversOnly the bond of love which Nature makes;Wherefore within the second circle nestle
Hypocrisy, flattery, and who deals in magic,Falsification, theft, and simony,Panders, and barrators, and the like filth.
By the other mode, forgotten is that loveWhich Nature makes, and what is after added,From which there is a special faith engendered.
Hence in the smallest circle, where the point isOf the Universe, upon which Dis is seated,Whoe’er betrays for ever is consumed.”
And I: “My Master, clear enough proceedsThy reasoning, and full well distinguishesThis cavern and the people who possess it.
But tell me, those within the fat lagoon,Whom the wind drives, and whom the rain doth beat,And who encounter with such bitter tongues,
Wherefore are they inside of the red cityNot punished, if God has them in his wrath,And if he has not, wherefore in such fashion?”
And unto me he said: “Why wanders soThine intellect from that which it is wont?Or, sooth, thy mind where is it elsewhere looking?
Hast thou no recollection of those wordsWith which thine Ethics thoroughly discussesThe dispositions three, that Heaven abides not,—