Inferno: Canto Xiv
INFERNO: CANTO XIV
Because my native land taught me charity
I gathered the scattered leaves,
And gave them back to him. But he was now hoarse.
Then we came to the edge of the forest, where
The second round is separated from the third, and where
A horrible form of Justice is seen.
I will try to explain what I saw.
As I said, we stood at the edge of a plain,
Which rejected the roots of every plant;
The miserable forest surrounded it
All around, as the sad moat surrounded the forest;
There close to the edge we stopped.
The soil was made up of an arid and thick sand,
Much the same as that
Which the feet of Cato once pressed down.
O Vengeance of God, How much
Everyone who reads this should dread
That which was revealed to my eyes!
I saw herds of naked souls,
Who were all weeping miserably,
And each group had a different penalty.
Some of them were lying on the ground;
And some were sitting all drawn up together,
And others walked continually, never stopping.
Those who were going around were far greater in number,
And those who lay down in their torment were far less,
But they lamented more than the others.
And falling over all the sandy wasteland,
Huge flakes of fire rained down,
Like the snow on a mountain with no wind.
As Alexander saw,
In those parched lands of India,
Flames fell unbroken till they reached the ground.
He tried with his armies
To trample down the soil, because the flame was
Better extinguished before it joined with others;
In the same manner, the eternal heat descended,
And the sand was set on fire, like wood shavings
Under metal sparks, which doubled their pain.
Forever, without rest, the dance
Of miserable hands, first here, then there,
Brushed away the falling snow of flame.
"Master," I began, "You, who overcomes
All things except the worst demons, that fought
Against us at the entrance of the gate,
Who is that mighty one who seems not to feel
The fire, and lies there sullen and disdainful,
As though the rain does not burn him?"
And the man himself, who had become aware that I was Questioning my Guide about him, cried: "As I was when I was Living, I am the same now that I am dead.
Jupiter will wear out his blacksmith, from whom
He angrily seized the sharp thunderbolt,
That he hurled at me on my final day,
And he wearied out, one by one, the others
In Mongibello at that blackened forge,
Crying out, 'Help, Vulcan, help!'
Even as he did at the fight of Phlegra,
And shot his bolts at me with all his might,
I will not give him joyous vengeance here."
Then my Leader spoke with such great force,
That I had never heard him speak so loud:
"O Capaneus, I see that it has not extinguished
Your arrogance, you are punished all the more;
There is no punishment, except your own rage,
Which could punish you more completely."
Then he turned to me saying in a softer tone,
"He was one of the Seven Kings
Who besieged Thebes, and held, and still seems to hold
God in disdain, and he prizes very little;
But, as I said to him, his own spite
Is his worst punishment.
Now follow me, and mind you do not place
Your feet upon the burning sand,
But always keep them close to the woods."
Speaking not a word, we came to where a little rivulet
Gushes from the woods, and the redness of its color
Makes my hair still stand on end.
As the brooklet springs from the Bulicame,
Which sinful women share downstream,
So the water made its way through the sand.
The river's bed, and both sloping banks,
Were made of stone, as were the edges on each side;
Then I understood that this was our passage.
"In all the things which I have shown you
Since we entered through the gate
Whose threshold no one is denied,
You have not seen anything that is
As notable as this river before us,
Which quenches all the flames above it."
My Leader said; and I asked him
If he would tell me more,
For he had given me the desire to learn.
"In the mid-sea there sits a wasted land,"
He said, "Whose name is Crete,
Under whose king the world of old was chaste.
There is a mountain there, that once was full
With waters and with plants, which was called Ida;
Now it is deserted, as a thing that is worn out.
Rhea once chose it for the faithful cradle
For her own son; and to better conceal him,
Whenever he cried, she had her servants cry out as well.
An old man stands erect on the mountain,
And he holds his shoulders turned towards Damietta,
And looks at Rome as if it were his mirror.
His head is fashioned of refined gold,
And of pure silver are his arms and breast;
Then his body is brass as far down as his hips.
From that point downward everything is iron,
Except for the right foot which is kiln-baked clay,
And he stands on that foot more than on the other.
Each part, except the gold, is broken by a fissure
That is dripping with tears,
Which gather together to erode that cavern.
From rock to rock the tears fall into this valley;
And they form Acheron, Styx, and Phlegethon;
Then go downward along this narrow canal.
At the point where it can no longer descend,
They form Cocytus; and what that pool becomes
You will soon see, so I won't tell you now."
And I said to him: "If the current stream
First begins in our world,
Why does it only appear to us here?"
And he said to me: "You know this place is round,
And notwithstanding you have journeyed far,
Staying to the left, descending to the bottom,
You have not yet gone through all the circle.
Therefore if something new appears to us,
You should not be surprised to see it."
And I said: "Master, where will we find
Lethe and Phlegethon, you have said nothing of them,
But you say that this one is made from tears?"
"It pleases me that you ask so many questions,"
He replied; "but the boiling of the red
Water might well solve one of your questions.
You will see Lethe, but outside this moat,
There where the souls go to wash themselves,
When they have repented and their sin has been removed."
Then he said: "It is time now to abandon
The woods; take heed that you come after me;
The river border makes a way that is not burning,
And along this path, the flames are extinguished."