Excerpt
CANTO VII
"AH me! O Satan! Satan!" loud exclaim'dPlutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm:And the kind sage, whom no event surpris'd,To comfort me thus spake: "Let not thy fearHarm thee, for power in him, be sure, is noneTo hinder down this rock thy safe descent."Then to that sworn lip turning, "Peace!" he cried,"Curs'd wolf! thy fury inward on thyselfPrey, and consume thee! Through the dark profoundNot without cause he passes. So 't is will'dOn high, there where the great Archangel pour'dHeav'n's vengeance on the first adulterer proud."As sails full spread and bellying with the windDrop suddenly collaps'd, if the mast split;So to the ground down dropp'd the cruel fiend.Thus we, descending to the fourth steep ledge,Gain'd on the dismal shore, that all the woeHems in of all the universe. Ah me!Almighty Justice! in what store thou heap'stNew pains, new troubles, as I here beheld!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,From one side and the other, with loud voice,Both roll'd on weights by main forge of their breasts,Then smote together, and each one forthwithRoll'd them back voluble, turning again,Exclaiming these, "Why holdest thou so fast?"Those answering, "And why castest thou away?"So still repeating their despiteful song,They to the opposite point on either handTravers'd the horrid circle: then arriv'd,Both turn'd them round, and through the middle spaceConflicting met again. At sight whereofI, stung with grief, thus spake: "O say, my guide!What race is this? Were these, whose heads are shorn,On our left hand, all sep'rate to the church?"He straight replied: "In their first life these allIn 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 extremityArriving of the circle, where their crimeContrary' in kind disparts them. To the churchWere separate those, that with no hairy cowlsAre crown'd, both Popes and Cardinals, o'er whomAv'rice dominion absolute maintains."I then: "Mid such as these some needs must be,Whom I shall recognize, that with the blotOf these foul sins were stain'd." He answering thus:"Vain thought conceiv'st thou. That ignoble life,Which made them vile before, now makes them dark,And to all knowledge indiscernible.Forever 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 worldDepriv'd, and set them at this strife, which needsNo labour'd phrase of mine to set if off.Now may'st 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,Or ever hath been, of these toil-worn soulsMight purchase rest for one." I thus rejoin'd:"My guide!...