Part 12

Clerks those were who no hairy covering Have on the head, and Popes and Cardinals, In whom doth Avarice practise its excess.”

And I: “My Master, among such as these I ought forsooth to recognise some few, Who were infected with these maladies.”

And he to me: “Vain thought thou entertainest; The undiscerning life which made them sordid Now makes them unto all discernment dim.

Forever shall they come to these two buttings; These from the sepulchre shall rise again With the fist closed, and these with tresses shorn.

Ill giving and ill keeping the fair world Have ta’en from them, and placed them in this scuffle; Whate’er it be, no words adorn I for it.

Now canst thou, Son, behold the transient farce Of goods that are committed unto Fortune, For which the human race each other buffet;

For all the gold that is beneath the moon, Or ever has been, of these weary souls Could never make a single one repose.”

“Master,” I said to him, “now tell me also What is this Fortune which thou speakest of, That has the world’s goods so within its clutches?”

And he to me: “O creatures imbecile, What ignorance is this which doth beset you? Now will I have thee learn my judgment of her.

He whose omniscience everything transcends The heavens created, and gave who should guide them, That every part to every part may shine,

Distributing the light in equal measure; He in like manner to the mundane splendours Ordained a general ministress and guide,

That she might change at times the empty treasures From race to race, from one blood to another, Beyond resistance of all human wisdom.

Therefore one people triumphs, and another Languishes, in pursuance of her judgment, Which hidden is, as in the grass a serpent.

Your knowledge has no counterstand against her; She makes provision, judges, and pursues Her governance, as theirs the other gods.

Her permutations have not any truce; Necessity makes her precipitate, So often cometh who his turn obtains.

And this is she who is so crucified Even by those who ought to give her praise, Giving her blame amiss, and bad repute.

But she is blissful, and she hears it not; Among the other primal creatures gladsome She turns her sphere, and blissful she rejoices.

Let us descend now unto greater woe; Already sinks each star that was ascending When I set out, and loitering is forbidden.”

We crossed the circle to the other bank, Near to a fount that boils, and pours itself Along a gully that runs out of it.

The water was more sombre far than perse; And we, in company with the dusky waves, Made entrance downward by a path uncouth.

A marsh it makes, which has the name of Styx, This tristful brooklet, when it has descended Down to the foot of the malign gray shores.

And I, who stood intent upon beholding, Saw people mud-besprent in that lagoon, All of them naked and with angry look.

They smote each other not alone with hands, But with the head and with the breast and feet, Tearing each other piecemeal with their teeth.

Said the good Master: “Son, thou now beholdest The souls of those whom anger overcame; And likewise I would have thee know for certain

Beneath the water people are who sigh And make this water bubble at the surface, As the eye tells thee wheresoe’er it turns.

Fixed in the mire they say, ‘We sullen were In the sweet air, which by the sun is gladdened, Bearing within ourselves the sluggish reek;

Now we are sullen in this sable mire.’ This hymn do they keep gurgling in their throats, For with unbroken words they cannot say it.”

Thus we went circling round the filthy fen A great arc ’twixt the dry bank and the swamp, With eyes turned unto those who gorge the mire;