| |
| “AH me! O Satan! Satan!” 1 loud exclaim’d | |
| Plutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm: | |
| And the kind sage, whom no event surprised, | |
| To comfort me thus spake: “Let not thy fear | |
| Harm thee, for power in him, be sure, is none | 5 |
| To hinder down this rock thy safe descent.” | |
| Then to that swoln lip turning, “Peace!” he cried, | |
| “Curst wolf! thy fury inward on thyself | |
| Prey, and consume thee! Through the dark profound, | |
| Not without cause, he passes. So ’tis will’d | 10 |
| On high, there where the great Archangel pour’d | |
| Heaven’s vengeance on the first adulterer proud.” | |
| As sails, full spread and bellying with the wind, | |
| Drop suddenly collapsed, if the mast split; | |
| So to the ground down dropp’d the cruel fiend. | 15 |
| Thus we, descending to the fourth steep ledge, | |
| Gain’d on the dismal shore, that all the woe | |
| Hems in of all the universe. Ah me! | |
| Almighty Justice! in what store thou heap’st | |
| New pains, new troubles, as I here beheld. | 20 |
| Wherefore doth fault of ours bring us to this? | |
| E’en as a billow, on Charybdis rising, | |
| Against encounter’d billow dashing breaks; | |
| Such is the dance this wretched race must lead, | |
| Whom more than elsewhere numerous here I found. | 25 |
| From one side and the other, with loud voice, | |
| Both roll’d on weights, by main force of their breasts, | |
| Then smote together, and each one forthwith | |
| Roll’d them back voluble, turning again; | |
| Exclaiming these, “Why holdest thou so fast?” | 30 |
| Those answering, “And why castest thou away?” | |
| So, still repeating their despiteful song, | |
| They to the opposite point, on either hand, | |
| Traversed the horrid circle; then arrived, | |
| Both turn’d them round, and through the middle space, | 35 |
| Conflicting met again. At sight whereof | |
| I, stung with grief, thus spake: “O say, my guide! | |
| What race is this. Were these, whose heads are shorn, | |
| On our left hand, all separate to the Church?” | |
| He straight replied: “In their first life, these all | 40 |
| In mind were so distorted, that they made, | |
| According to due measure, of their wealth | |
| No use. This clearly from their words collect, | |
| Which they howl forth, at each extremity | |
| Arriving of the circle, where their crime | 45 |
| Contrary in kind disparts them. To the Church | |
| Were separate those, that with no hairy cowls | |
| Are crowned, both Popes and Cardinals, o’er whom | |
| Avarice dominion absolute maintains.” | |
| I then: “’Mid such as these some needs must be, | 50 |
| Whom I shall recognize, that with the blot | |
| Of these foul sins were stain’d.” He answering thus: | |
| “Vain thought conceivest thou. That ignoble life, | |
| Which made them vile before, now makes them dark, | |
| And to all knowledge indiscernible. | 55 |
| For ever they shall meet in this rude shock: | |
| These from the tomb with clenched grasp shall rise, | |
| Those with close-shaven locks. That ill they gave, | |
| And ill they kept, hath of the beauteous world | |
| Deprived, and set them at this strife, which needs | 60 |
| No labor’d phrase of mine to set it off. | |
| Now mayst thou see, my son! how brief, how vain, | |
| The goods committed into Fortune’s hands, | |
| For which the human race keep such a coil! | |
| Not all the gold that is beneath the moon, | 65 |
| Or ever hath been, of these toil-worn souls | |
| Might purchase rest for one.” I thus rejoin’d: | |
| “My guide! of these this also would I learn; | |
| This Fortune, that thou speak’st of, what it is, | |
| Whose talons grasp the blessings of the world.” | 70 |
| He thus: “O beings blind! what ignorance | |
| Besets you! Now my judgment hear and mark. | |
| He, whose transcendent wisdom passes all, | |
| The heavens creating, gave them ruling powers | |
| To guide them; so that each part shines to each, | 75 |
| Their light in equal distribution pour’d. | |
| By similar appointment he ordain’d, | |
| Over the world’s bright images to rule, | |
| Superintendence of a guiding hand | |
| And general minister, which, at due time, | 80 |
| May change the empty vantages of life | |
| From race to race, from one to other’s blood, | |
| Beyond prevention of man’s wisest care: | |
| Wherefore one nation rises into sway, | |
| Another languishes, e’en as her will | 85 |
| Decrees, from us conceal’d, as in the grass | |
| The serpent train. Against her nought avails | |
| Your utmost wisdom. She with foresight plans, | |
| Judges, and carries on her reign, as theirs | |
| The other powers divine. Her changes know | 90 |
| None intermission: by necessity | |
| She is made swift, so frequent come who claim | |
| Succession in her favors. This is she, | |
| So execrated e’en by those whose debt | |
| To her is rather praise: they wrongfully | 95 |
| With blame requite her, and with evil word; | |
| But she is blessed, and for that recks not: | |
| Amidst the other primal beings glad | |
| Rolls on her sphere, and in her bliss exults. | |
| Now on our way pass we, to heavier woe | 100 |
| Descending: for each star is falling now, | |
| That mounted at our entrance, and forbids | |
| Too long our tarrying.” We the circle cross’d | |
| To the next steep, arriving at a well, | |
| That boiling pours itself down to a foss | 105 |
| Sluiced from its source. Far murkier was the wave | |
| Than sablest grain: and we in company | |
| Of the inky waters, journeying by their side, | |
| Enter’d, though by a different track, beneath. | |
| Into a lake, the Stygian named, expands | 110 |
| The dismal stream, when it hath reach’d the foot | |
| Of the gray wither’d cliffs. Intent I stood | |
| To gaze, and in the marish sunk descried | |
| A miry tribe, all naked, and with looks | |
| Betokening rage. They with their hands alone | 115 |
| Struck not, but with the head, the breast, the feet, | |
| Cutting each other piecemeal with their fangs. | |
| The good instructor spake: “Now seest thou, son! | |
| The souls of those, whom anger overcame. | |
| This too for certain know, that underneath | 120 |
| The water dwells a multitude, whose sighs | |
| Into these bubbles make the surface heave, | |
| As thine eye tells thee wheresoe’er it turn. | |
| Fix’d in the slime, they say: ‘Sad once were we, | |
| In the sweet air made gladsome by the sun, | 125 |
| Carrying a foul and lazy mist within: | |
| Now in these murky settlings are we sad.’ | |
| Such dolorous strain they gurgle in their throats, | |
| But word distinct can utter none.” Our route | |
| Thus compass’d we, a segment widely stretch’d | 130 |
| Between the dry embankment, and the core | |
| Of the loath’d pool, turning meanwhile our eyes | |
| Downward on those who gulp’d its muddy lees; | |
| Nor stopp’d, till to a tower’s low base we came. | |
