DANTE'S SUBLIME COMEDY: HELL, Chapter 3

               Hell: Chapter 3

ENTER THROUGH ME A CITY OF ENDLESS WOE.

ENTER THROUGH ME ETERNAL AGONY

ENTER AND JOIN THE DAMNED LOST SOULS BELOW.                  3

CREATIVE LOVE, CREATIVE INTELLECT                                

ESTABLISHED ME FOR ALL ETERNITY.

INFINITE JUSTICE IS MY ARCHITECT.                                                 6

NOTHING EXISTED BEFORE I WAS MADE.                             

NOTHING EXISTING WILL ESCAPE MY SCOPE.

ALL YOU WHO ENTER HERE, ABANDON HOPE!                               9

These fearful words carved deeply I could see                                 

            above a great dark doorway, so I cried,

            “O master, do these words apply to me?”                                         12

Like a good teacher giving calm advice,                                           

            “Don’t think that I mislead you,” he replied.

            “By now you should have lost your cowardice.                                15

I am assigned (recall) to help you view                                           

            the final state of those dead sinners who

            choose to corrupt the goodness of their mind.”                                  18

Smiling to cheer me on, he took my hand                                      

            and led me in beside a dreadful band

            who hurt my ears with horrid lamentation.                                        21

Screams, wails, howls, groans and other ugly cries                         

            went blasting by us in a starless dark

            with skirls of rancorous denunciation,                                                24

           

arguments yelled in tongues of every nation                                      

            or hoarsely growled, or hissed in execration,

            mingled with bitter moaning, sobs and sighs                                      27

that had me weeping too in emulation.                                             

            This madly squealing, roaring, snarling throng

            arms flailing, clutching hands and trampling feet,                               30

went reeling, shambling, charging, tumbling by,                             

            like sands in whirlwinds, birling round and round

            until their foggy billows hide the sky.                                                33

This ghastly crowd and din so filled my head                                  

            I gazed upon my guide and whispered, “Why?”

            “These timid sinners stood aside,” he said,                                        36

“when strong oppressors tyrannise and slay.                                    

            They may feel sympathetic to the weak

            but think it wise to keep out of the way.                                           39

When Satan, God’s prime minister, first planned                            

            to rule the universe, he raised a band

            of rebels who split Heaven in two, it seemed,                                    42

until some moderate angels formed a team                                              

            to stay aloof from holiness and sin

            until they saw which side was going to win.                                      45

They were the foremost damned when virtue  won.                  

            Outcasts of Hell and Heaven, here they run.”

            “But Master,” I asked, “why do they yell so loud?”                         48

He said, “This sorry crowd have the distress                                    

            of being altogether meaningless.

            They envy now the fate of everyone                                                             51

whose deeds and misdeeds will preserve their name                      

            in memory, through good or evil fame.

            Justice and mercy both reject them, so                                                           54

we’ll speak no more of them. Look, and let’s go.”                         

            I looked and saw a whirling flag ahead,

            chased by such multitudes, I never knew                                           57

such millions had been numbered with the dead,                            

            but one I knew, that cowardly Pope, who

            elected to reform the church’s sins,                                                    60

fearing to foul his hands by that, withdrew,                                            

            true to himself, but to our God untrue.

            Hornets that stung like daggers sped this race                                    63

of frantic nudity, so tears, sweat, blood,                                         

            splashing the ground from every limb and face

            were sucked by worms wriggling in trampled mud.               66

Beyond that rushing rabble I could see,                                        

            though dimly lit, a mighty river’s shore

            with quite a different crowd congesting it,                                         69

pressing and jostling. They looked to me                                      

            like people keen to reach the other side.

            I asked my guide, “What are they waiting for?”                                 72

           

“Wait and you’ll see,” was all that he replied.                               

            We reached the river. From the other shore

            I saw a ferry-boat come shooting out,                                                            75

rowed by a hoary ancient with white hair                                     

            who, when he neared our side, began to shout,

            “Welcome to grief and welcome to despair                                        78

you wicked ghosts! No glimpse of heavenly light                       

            for you again, condemned to endless night,

            with scorching heat or agonising frost.                                                           81

Welcome to what forever hurts you most!                                     

            But you – a living man – cannot cross here.

            My only business is to shift the dead                                                84

so go another way, and fast!” he said.                                        

            I did not move. “Trespasser, go!” he roared, 

            “I cannot carry you! Ghosts are my freight!                          87

This boat can’t bear a living body’s weight.”                               

            “Don’t bluster, Charon. You’ll convey this man,”

            my master said. “On high it has been willed                          90

your boat shall take him, so of course it can.”                             

            The quiet reasoning of this reply

            shut the grim captain’s mouth, although his rage                   93

glowed in a ring of flame around each eye                                   

            glaring upon the crowded landing stage

where his rude voice turned the bare bodies white                 96

and set teeth chattering. Gibbering with fright                             

            or wailing with it, those damned souls cursed God,

            mankind, themselves, cursed worst their parents’ bed,          99

the genitals and womb whence they were bred.                          

            Beckoned by Charon, one by one they fell

            downward like hawks swooping into his boat                       102

or spinning down like drifts of autumn leaves                             

            abandoning a tree to coat the ground.

            That demon with the eyes like flaming coals                          105

packed tightly in his cargo of damned souls,                               

            whacking the hindmost smartly with his oar.

            I went out with them over the dark water                              108 

and as we left behind the nearest shore                                        

            I saw it was as crowded as before.

            My kindly teacher said to me, “My son,                               111

 no nation is without a downward path                                         

            on which the dead are flocking here – each one

            who dies within the shadow of God’s wrath.                       114

Their weight of guilt, by force of gravity,                                  

            drags them all quickly down for punishment

            at the true depth of their iniquity,                                         117

a state they want, yet dread. No gleam of light                           

            (which they reject) diverts that downward flight

            to the right pain. Charon conveys them there,                       120

so hates conveying you who go elsewhere.”                               

            We reached the further shore and disembarked

            onto a desolate and gloomy plain                                         123

shaking with earthquakes, and I saw it split                                     

            by a great gust of wind erupting out

            black coiling clouds with crimson lightning lit.                       126

So shocking was the sight that even yet,                                   

            despite worse things I later saw in Hell,

            the recollection soaks my skin with sweat.                            129

Exhausted then, I fell down in a fit.