Inferno: Canto Vii
INFERNO: CANTO VII
"Papa Satan, Papa Satan, You are my king!"
Plutus said with his clucking voice;
And my wise Sage, who knows everything,
Said, to encourage me: "Do not be afraid of him,
For he does not possess any power
That would prevent you from going down into this valley."
Then he turned around, faced the great beast,
And said: "Be silent, you accursed wolf;
Consume yourself with your own rage.
There is a reason for this journey into the abyss;
It is willed from on high, and Michael will bring
Vengeance upon those who assault the will of the heavens."
Even as the sails inflated by the wind
Will all fall together when the mast snaps,
So the cruel monster fell to the earth.
Then we descended into the fourth chasm,
Walking still farther along the miserable shore
Which holds all the woe of the world.
Where is God's justice? Who heaps so many
New toils and sufferings upon those that I saw?
And why do our transgressions lead us to such pain?
Like the waves created by Charybdis, the sea monster,
That crash against everything they encounter, so here the People clashed, confined within their semi-circle.
Here I saw more people than anywhere else,
Some on one side and some on the other, grunting and howhng,
Rolling huge stone boulders forward by brute force alone.
They clashed together, and then at the point of impact
Each one turned around, rolling their stone the other way,
Crying, "Why do you hoard?" And, "Why do you squander?"
Thus they returned along the gloomy circle
One group on each side, to the opposite point,
Shouting their shameful cries the entire time.
Then each, when he reached the other end, wheeled about
Through his half-circle to begin another joust;
And I, with great pain in my heart,
Exclaimed: "My Master, now tell me
Who these people are, and if they were clergy,
These with shaven heads." And he said to me:
"All of them were lacking Intellect in the first Life. Those on the right squandered everything They had without restraint.
You can hear their voices barking loudly
Whenever they reach the two points of the circle,
Where they smash into those with the opposite defect.
They are the clergy, those who have no hair covering
Their heads, and Popes and Cardinals, who hoarded Everything, sometimes spending nothing at all."
And I said: "My Master, among such great men as these
I ought to recognize at least a few,
Who are infected with these maladies."
And he said to me: "You would think so;
But the life they led to make themselves different
Now makes them all the same.
They will smash into each other, forever; on Judgment day, Those who squandered will have only empty fists.
And those who hoarded, will be left with only shaven heads.
It is their hoarding and squandering that has
Put them in this state, and placed them in this scuffle;
They did it themselves and I will speak no more of it.
Now you can see the true folly
Of worldly wealth that is committed to Fortune,
For which the human race has no influence;
For all of the gold that is and ever has been
Can never buy these weary souls a single moment of peace." "Master," I said to him,
"Now tell me also, what do you mean
When you say it is in the hands of Fortune,
That controls all of the wealth of the world?"
And he said to me: "O foolish race of man,
How can you not know of her?
Listen and I will tell you who she is.
He, whose omniscience covers everything,
Created all the heavens, and someone to guide them,
Such that each planet would shine on every other one,
Distributing the light in all places equally;
He did the same with the world's treasures
And ordained a simple mistress as its guide,
So that she might change the treasures
From race to race, from one blood to another,
Beyond any reason of human wisdom.
Therefore one person triumphs, and another
Languishes, based on her judgment,
Which is hidden, like a serpent in the grass.
Your knowledge has no influence on her;
She makes provision, judges, and pursues
Her governance, as the other gods do theirs.
Her changes are always happening, without pause;
Necessity keeps her in constant motion,
As each man takes his turn with her.
And for this, she is often crucified
Even by those who ought to give her praise,
Blaming her for their problems and their pains.
But she does not care, and she does not hear it;
As with many of the primal creatures
She plays her game, and happily she rejoices.
But now we descend into an even greater woe;
We must continue on. It is already getting late
And loitering is forbidden."
We crossed the circle to the other bank,
Near to a fountain that boils, and pours itself
Along a gully that runs out of it.
The water was a deep, dark purple;
And we, walking next to the dirty waves,
Headed downward along an uneven path.
The water creates a dirty marsh, which is called Styx,
When it finally makes its way
Down to the foot of the dark, gray shores.
I stood intent, unable to turn away,
When I saw people covered with mud in that lagoon,
All of them naked and with a look of anger on their faces.
They hit each other, not with just their hands,
But with their heads and with their breasts and their feet,
Tearing each other apart with their teeth.
The good Master said: "Son, you are now seeing
The souls of those who are overcome with anger;
And I will also let you know that
Beneath the water are people who sigh and make the water
Bubble on the surface, as you can see where ever you look.
They are stuck in the mire and they say,
'We were lazy and slothful
When we were in the clean air and bright sun,
Holding within ourselves the sluggish life;
Now we are forever trapped in this murky water.'
They keep gurgling this chant in their throats,
For underwater, they cannot say it aloud."
Thus we circled around the filthy lagoon
Along a great arc between the dry bank and the swamp,
Always seeing those who were trapped in the mire;
Until, at last, we came to the foot of a large tower.