Gustave Doré
At my mind's returning, since I fainted in the
face of pity at the two distant relations,
which had riled me all up with melancholy,
I witness new forms of torture and new ones
being tortured here and there, just as I set
out and turned, & just as I watched. I am at its
third circle, that of ever-lasting, un-
mentionable, cold and heavy rain; for
its cadence and kind are not ever new.
Great big balls of hail, gray water and snow pour
throughout the shady atmosphere; the
ground that it falls upon does stink the more.
Cerberus, the cruel and unusual beast,
barks like a hound with three gullets, down
upon the people who are soakèd there.
His eyes are rose-red, his beard found
oily and black, the belly huge, & claws for hands;
he shreds the spirits, flaying and chopping now.
The rain does make them cry like they were dogs;
from one side to the next they make a screen;
the sorry commoners keep taking turns.
When Cerberus, the monstrous thing, saw us, he
opened up his mouths and showed us the fangs;
he had not any member which held still.
And my master the guide stretched out his arms,
pressing them to the ground, and with hands full
threw earth into the gluttonous jaws.
Just like the dog that barking does desire,
and is then quelled as the feeding's done, which
meal alone it tries and struggles to devour,[30
so were those ugly faces of demonic
Cerberus, who so appalls the spirits that
they would welcome being dumb. We passed
right by, through the shades which the pouring rain
subdues -- I gave voice to my cries upon
th' emptiness that makes each human soul equal.
So many of them lay all over the ground,
except for one spirit which got sitting up,
soon as seeing us pass right there before one.
"You who are being led through this infernal
hell," he told me, "recognize me, if you can:
you were made, sooner than I was undone."
And I said to him, "The anxiousness you feel may-
be removed memory of you from my mind,
such that I've not seen one like you before.
But do tell me who you 're to be amid
so painful a place and feel such punishment
that if another is bigger, none's so displeasing."
And to me he said: "That city of yours, which
is stuffed so with envy, it already overflows
moneybags, retained me with its own state
in the placid life. You fellow Florentines
used to call me Ciacco: for the mortal sin of
greed, as you see, I get worn away in rains.
And I'm not the only sad spirit, since
these all suffer similar sorrow for no
different fault." And he did no more discourse.
To him I replied, "Your heavy breathing, Ciacco,
weighs me so far down, it invites my sobs in-
to crying; but tell me, if you know, to[60
what end will citizens of the divided
city come, whether any's a just man; & tell
me the cause why such conflict holds in its grip."
And he told me: "After lasting discord shall
they come to blood, & the rustic faction
will the other, such offensive, then expel.
Then happens next this party's loss within
three years of status, & that th' other side
o'ercome force of such one as building up yet.
They'll hold head high a good while, holding th' other side
to heavy penalties, just like what they shout
over or which powers they might for it lose.
Just two are righteous men, and they pay not
attention to them; arrogance, envy and greed
are the three sparks which've ignited their heart."
There he ended his tear-jerking tone. And
I said, "You have yet to teach me, also to
make a gift of speaking more for me. Farinata
and Tegghiaio, whom you thought worthy, Iacopo
Rusticucci, Arrigo & Mosca, and other men
whose talent got them to the high life, do
tell me where they are, and make it so I may know them,
since I am gripped by great desire, of knowing
whether heaven is sweet to them, or hell's poison."
And said he, "They're some of the blackest spirits:
different kinds of faults weigh them down, to the
bottom: if you go so deep, you'll be able
to see them there. But when you are back in
the sweet world, I beg you recall for me
to others' mind: I am telling you no more, &[90
reply to you no longer." His piercing gaze
then turned into eye-contact grim; he eyed
me for a bit, and then lowered his head: he
fell headlong, down like the blind others. My guide
said, "He won't rise any more, unto sounding of
the angelic trumpet, whence comes to power th' enemy:
each one will view once more the gloomy tomb,
again take up one's own flesh and form, to
hear what in eternal echoing resounds."
We passed by, along the dingy blend of
the shadows and of the rain, by slow steps,
touching a bit upon the life to come;
so I said, "Teacher, do these tortures get worse
for them post-sentencing at judgment,
so they'll be less savage or so tortuous?"
And he told me: "Head back to your true knowledge
which holds that how much more perfected a thing
is, the more it perceives of good, likewise feeling
pain. Although these cursèd people do not
ever come to true perfection, they wait
to be moreso, by then, than they are now."
We avoided that direction indirectly, yet
speaking quite a bit more that I don't recall;
we arrived at the spot which slopes downward,
where found we Plutus, the foe diabolical.