Red eyes he has, and unctuous beard and black, And belly large, and armed with claws his hands; He rends the spirits, flays, and quarters them.
Howl the rain maketh them like unto dogs; One side they make a shelter for the other; Oft turn themselves the wretched reprobates.
When Cerberus perceived us, the great worm! His mouths he opened, and displayed his tusks; Not a limb had he that was motionless.
And my Conductor, with his spans extended, Took of the earth, and with his fists well filled, He threw it into those rapacious gullets.
Such as that dog is, who by barking craves, And quiet grows soon as his food he gnaws, For to devour it he but thinks and struggles,
The like became those muzzles filth-begrimed Of Cerberus the demon, who so thunders Over the souls that they would fain be deaf.
We passed across the shadows, which subdues The heavy rain-storm, and we placed our feet Upon their vanity that person seems.
They all were lying prone upon the earth, Excepting one, who sat upright as soon As he beheld us passing on before him.
“O thou that art conducted through this Hell,” He said to me, “recall me, if thou canst; Thyself wast made before I was unmade.”
And I to him: “The anguish which thou hast Perhaps doth draw thee out of my remembrance, So that it seems not I have ever seen thee.
But tell me who thou art, that in so doleful A place art put, and in such punishment, If some are greater, none is so displeasing.”
And he to me: “Thy city, which is full Of envy so that now the sack runs over, Held me within it in the life serene.
You citizens were wont to call me Ciacco; For the pernicious sin of gluttony I, as thou seest, am battered by this rain.
And I, sad soul, am not the only one, For all these suffer the like penalty For the like sin;” and word no more spake he.
I answered him: “Ciacco, thy wretchedness Weighs on me so that it to weep invites me; But tell me, if thou knowest, to what shall come
The citizens of the divided city; If any there be just; and the occasion Tell me why so much discord has assailed it.”
And he to me: “They, after long contention, Will come to bloodshed; and the rustic party Will drive the other out with much offence.
Then afterwards behoves it this one fall Within three suns, and rise again the other By force of him who now is on the coast.
High will it hold its forehead a long while, Keeping the other under heavy burdens, Howe’er it weeps thereat and is indignant.
The just are two, and are not understood there; Envy and Arrogance and Avarice Are the three sparks that have all hearts enkindled.”
Here ended he his tearful utterance; And I to him: “I wish thee still to teach me, And make a gift to me of further speech.
Farinata and Tegghiaio, once so worthy, Jacopo Rusticucci, Arrigo, and Mosca, And others who on good deeds set their thoughts,
Say where they are, and cause that I may know them; For great desire constraineth me to learn If Heaven doth sweeten them, or Hell envenom.”
And he: “They are among the blacker souls; A different sin downweighs them to the bottom; If thou so far descendest, thou canst see them.
But when thou art again in the sweet world, I pray thee to the mind of others bring me; No more I tell thee and no more I answer.”
Then his straightforward eyes he turned askance, Eyed me a little, and then bowed his head; He fell therewith prone like the other blind.
And the Guide said to me: “He wakes no more This side the sound of the angelic trumpet; When shall approach the hostile Potentate,
Each one shall find again his dismal tomb, Shall reassume his flesh and his own figure, Shall hear what through eternity re-echoes.”
So we passed onward o’er the filthy mixture Of shadows and of rain with footsteps slow, Touching a little on the future life.
Wherefore I said: “Master, these torments here, Will they increase after the mighty sentence, Or lesser be, or will they be as burning?”
And he to me: “Return unto thy science, Which wills, that as the thing more perfect is, The more it feels of pleasure and of pain.
Albeit that this people maledict To true perfection never can attain, Hereafter more than now they look to be.”
Round in a circle by that road we went, Speaking much more, which I do not repeat; We came unto the point where the descent is;
There we found Plutus the great enemy.
Inferno: Canto VII
“Pape Satan, Pape Satan, Aleppe!” Thus Plutus with his clucking voice began; And that benignant Sage, who all things knew,
Said, to encourage me: “Let not thy fear Harm thee; for any power that he may have Shall not prevent thy going down this crag.”
Then he turned round unto that bloated lip, And said: “Be silent, thou accursed wolf; Consume within thyself with thine own rage.
Not causeless is this journey to the abyss; Thus is it willed on high, where Michael wrought Vengeance upon the proud adultery.”
Even as the sails inflated by the wind Involved together fall when snaps the mast, So fell the cruel monster to the earth.
Thus we descended into the fourth chasm, Gaining still farther on the dolesome shore Which all the woe of the universe insacks.
Justice of God, ah! who heaps up so many New toils and sufferings as I beheld? And why doth our transgression waste us so?
As doth the billow there upon Charybdis, That breaks itself on that which it encounters, So here the folk must dance their roundelay.
Here saw I people, more than elsewhere, many, On one side and the other, with great howls, Rolling weights forward by main force of chest.
They clashed together, and then at that point Each one turned backward, rolling retrograde, Crying, “Why keepest?” and, “Why squanderest thou?”
Thus they returned along the lurid circle On either hand unto the opposite point, Shouting their shameful metre evermore.
Then each, when he arrived there, wheeled about Through his half-circle to another joust; And I, who had my heart pierced as it were,
Exclaimed: “My Master, now declare to me What people these are, and if all were clerks, These shaven crowns upon the left of us.”
And he to me: “All of them were asquint In intellect in the first life, so much That there with measure they no spending made.
Clearly enough their voices bark it forth, Whene’er they reach the two points of the circle, Where sunders them the opposite defect.
Clerks those were who no hairy covering Have on the head, and Popes and Cardinals, In whom doth Avarice practise its excess.”
And I: “My Master, among such as these I ought forsooth to recognise some few, Who were infected with these maladies.”
And he to me: “Vain thought thou entertainest; The undiscerning life which made them sordid Now makes them unto all discernment dim.
Forever shall they come to these two buttings; These from the sepulchre shall rise again With the fist closed, and these with tresses shorn.
Ill giving and ill keeping the fair world Have ta’en from them, and placed them in this scuffle; Whate’er it be, no words adorn I for it.
Now canst thou, Son, behold the transient farce Of goods that are committed unto Fortune, For which the human race each other buffet;
For all the gold that is beneath the moon, Or ever has been, of these weary souls Could never make a single one repose.”
“Master,” I said to him, “now tell me also What is this Fortune which thou speakest of, That has the world’s goods so within its clutches?”
And he to me: “O creatures imbecile, What ignorance is this which doth beset you? Now will I have thee learn my judgment of her.
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 splendours Ordained a general ministress and guide,
That she might change at times the empty treasures From race to race, from one blood to another, Beyond resistance of all human wisdom.
Therefore one people triumphs, and another Languishes, 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 pursues Her 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 crucified Even 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 gladsome She turns her sphere, and blissful she rejoices.
Let us descend now unto greater woe; Already sinks each star that was ascending When I set out, and loitering is forbidden.”