At the foot of the Mountain

Dante & Virgil at the foot of the Mountain
Engraving by Gustave Doré

" To course o'er more kindly waters now
   my talent's little vessel lifts her sails,
   that leaves behind a sea so cruel;

  And of that second kingdom will I sing,
   wherein the human spirit doth purge,
   becoming worthy of ascent to
   Heaven... "
      - DANTE & VIRGIL IN PURGATORY









Dante Alighieri may have endured Hell, quite literally, and all its horrors and chills, but the journey was not complete. It seemed an age since that night he had walked the dark forest path, midway through life, but adventure lay far ahead yet. The terrible retribution suffered by the souls of the damned was but a part of the hand dealt by God to man when the hour of reckoning comes...

Bursting forth from the dank and unforgiving realm of Lucifer's gaol, it was with a deep breath that Dante greeted the cool air again. Noxious fumes and at once stifling heat and piercing freeze was cast aside, replaced by a serener ambience. Stars punctuated the night sky, as both Dante and his guide and master, the mighty Virgil, found themselves at the root of a mountain more vast than any that towered over the world of still breathing men. Down and down in Inferno had they travelled, yet here in the Midworld, the only path lay up. This was Purgatory, neither damnation nor salvation, Heaven nor Hell, here nor there. Here dwell man and woman alike after death, awaiting judgement. Noble yet flawed in life, here they atone for their earthly sins, before they are welcomed in Heaven above. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here, the Gate of Hell had declared. Yet here in Purgatory, it is hope which lifts the spirits of all. For all here will one day enter Heaven, when their sentence is served.

The Death of Cato
Painting by Pierre Bouillon

With a start our pilgrim was made aware of a presence at his side. "Who are ? Ye who counter the blind river, have fled away from the eternal prison?", the stranger barked. None before had broken out of the dark abyss, since when had the damned been cast upon the root of the penitent Mount? "Who guided you?" he demanded. To Dante's rescue, silver tongued Virgil came. "A Lady from Heaven descended, at whose prayers I aided this one with my company", the poet declared. Beckoning at his companion, he argued that as he was not yet among the ranks of the dead, he was not subject to the ancient laws of the afterworld, and he sought only liberty. It was then that Virgil, spying a bloodied wound on the stranger's chest, that he recognised the man. A fellow Roman of yore, there stood before them Cato, staunch enemy of Caesar and Republican to the bitter end, who took his own life at Utica when his designs came to naught, and the Republic of the Romans breathed its last. Virgil informed Cato that Dante lived with hope to see his beloved Beatrice again, high in the Kingdom of Light. The hardened expression on their interrogator softened at once, moved with memories of the Marcia he once knew. "Marcia so pleasing was unto mine eyes whilst on the other side I dwelled...", he reminisced. "Now that she dwells beyond the evil river, she can no longer move me..." he lamented. Go forth, he commanded, and dally not under the command of the Lord. 'Do not return this way, and follow the rising Sun', his last words were. Dante looked at the path ahead. Steep indeed it was. Looking back, Cato's spirit was no more.

The Arrival of the Waiting
Engraving by Gustave Doré

Dawn had broken, and already the Sun had crested the horizon of the endless ocean. Through the haze Mars glowed a burning red, when suddenly a light flashed across the surf, heading to the base of the Mountain. A whiteness, blinding with brilliance, pierced the waves, and Virgil called to Dante "Make haste, make haste to bow the knew! Behold the Angel of God!". The radiance grew, and the craft beached upon Purgatory's shore. "In exitu Israel de Aegypto!", the Heavenly host cried, and from the boat a throng of souls emerged, recently hurled headlong from their earthly bodies. Around in incredulity and puzzlement they gazed. Spotting the two poets not far from they, the spirits rushed to embrace them. "If ye know, show us the way to go unto the mountain", one among them called out to Dante. "Ye believe perchance that we have knowledge of this place, but we are strangers even as yourselves", Virgil retorted. Downcast, one among them suddenly noticed the rising and falling of Dante's chest, and realisation dawned upon his breathless face. Pallid with amazement, they saw that he was still alive, and rejoiced. One moved forward to throw his arms around our pilgrim, but nay, it was not to be. Moved by the kind reception, Dante moved to embrace him too, but only through air did his arms pass. Three times they tried, but hope lay not there. Several among the shades recognise Dante, they were once men of Florence too. The one who would embrace revealed himself as Casella, a friend in life of our poet. Long had he dwelled in the middleworld, and into merry song he burst, flexing the mighty voice he once prized in life. A tear rolled down Dante's cheek at the memories relived, before a growling voice shattered the serenity. Cato spurred them on, urging them not to delay, for nightfall would be coming soon. So with fresh vigour did the ethereal party disband, and higher did they climb.

The path ahead seemed a gruelling one indeed, so steep was the embankment. Dante stuck close to his master, fearful that any slip would send him to the ranks of all around. The blood red rays of the Sun grew dazzling now, as the light flooded over the crags in the mountain. Marvelling at the old poet's agility, Dante suddenly noticed that Virgil cast no shadow in the blazing sun. "Dost thou not think me with thee, and that I guide thee?" Virgil remarked, noticing his anguish. All all too painful reminder it was for Dante, that his newfound friend and master was in fact dead. Since his mortal body long ago vanished, no more could his spirit cast a shadow, in Naples now are his last remains. "Marvel not at it more than at the Heavens", Virgil soothed the distraught Dante, for "insane is he who hopeth that our reason can traverse the illimitable way". Painfully aware that there would come a time when they  must part ways, Dante struggled on up, up and up the endless cliff. Scarcely, it seemed, could any being unequipped with wings ascend it, yet with determination did those two prevail.


After reaching something of a plateau, the two stopped; Dante for breath and Virgil for thought. Then, there on the left, another array of souls approached. As sheep they flocked, for those at the rear seemed oblivious to the matter around them, only following those in front. Timidly holding their heads low, they skulked forward, until the lead spirit, "modest in face and dignified in gait", spotted the shadow cast by Dante's form. With a start he jumped, and so too did his fellows behind, though they knew not why. "Without your asking, I confess to you this is a human body you see", Virgil called to them. By mandate of Heaven had they come this far, and the spirits bowed in recognition, beckoning the way forth.

King Manfred
Image take from the Chronicle
of Giovanni Villani

As they turned to move, however, a soft voice sounded behind. "Whoe'er thou art, thus going turn thine eyes, consider well if e'er thoun saw me in the other world". Intrigued, Dante spun around, to a haunting sight. A fair man stood yonder, with kindly face and blonde hair, one of his eyebrows split by some blow of war. His bearing was noble, no serf this was. Humbly, Dante admitted that he knew the man not. Smiling, the figure revealed the ghastly wound upon his chest, flecked with blood. "I am Manfred, grandson of the Empress Costanza; therefore, when thou returnest, I beseech thee, go to my daughter fair, the mother of Siciliy's honour and Aragon's, and the truth tell her, if aught else be told". Dante, who knew Manfred's tale well, was overcome with reverence. Fifty years earlier, Manfred, son of the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II, faithfully obeyed his father's will in Southern Italy. It was a time when strife between the Empire and the Papacy was at its zenith, and the territorial extent of the Holy Roman Empire seemed well on its way to reclaiming the glory of its ancient namesake. At 18, his father died and rebellion was raised in the southern domains. Energetic and enthusiastic, Manfred crushed the rebellion in Naples. But Pope Innocent IV, spying an opportunity with the death of his nemesis, Frederick Stupor Mundi, demanded the surrender of Sicily from Imperial hands, intending to gift it to the son of King Henry III of England. Manfred, disgusted by the Vicar of Christ's earthly corruption, refused. Retribution arrived swiftly, a bull of excommunication. He was now a spiritual outlaw, shunned by the Catholic Church, and forbidden from entering Heaven. This was a sentence that made death seem trifling. The Pope deplored his daring to rule beyond papal permission, and his willingness to form alliances with Muslims, and raised arms against young Manfred. But the Imperial Prince was an able leader, and crushed the armies of the Papal States. Not long after, he was hailed by the Sicilians as their saviour and King. Triumphant, Manfred declared his candidacy for his father's throne, that of Holy Roman Emperor itself. The new Pope Alexander IV declared excommunication once again, rallying war against the precocious Prince. Charles of Anjou heard the Pope's call, and marched on Sicily. The two sides met at Benevento, and battle was joined. Outnumbered and overwhelmed, the Imperial forces were broken, but never would Manfred abandon the field. Alone did the Sicilian King hurl himself against the Angevin line, and with great honour his life did wane. Not content with his mere death, the Pope ordered the remains to be dug up and thrown out of the territory of the Papal States.

"Horrible my iniquities had been", Manfred bemoaned, "but infinite goodness hath such ample arms, that is receives whatever turns to it". In his final moments on the field of war, the Emperor's son had prayed to the Almighty for forgiveness. By divine law, those penitent at death, but outside the grace of the Church, must dwell here in Purgatory for thirty times the duration of their time of sin before they are permitted to move on. Serving this time now was Manfred, along with others excommunicated in recent times, and desperate to feel Heaven's light was he. But greater hope remained, for the Almighty had decreed that should any on the earthly plain mourn and pray for the spirit, hastened would his time in Purgatory be.


                                        " See now if thou hast power to make me happy,
                                             By making known unto my good Costanza
                                             How thou hast seen me, and this ban beside... "
                                                   - KING MANFRED'S PLEA


It was then that Dante, so moved by Manfred's tale, realised he had lost track of time, as the day was far advanced now. Something sadder than Inferno seemed at work here. Whereas in the Infernal Pit, men wicked at heart were condemned, here were ordinary, good people, robbed of Heaven's light, sadly delayed from the Judgement. Resenting the interference of the Pope in temporal affairs, and that Italy had never been right since a Caesar had sat upon his rightful throne, Dante was consumed with melancholy. With a start, a nearby soul exclaimed the discovery of the path to the Mountain above. The road grew on, and time could not be wasted. Weirder and more wonderful adventures lay beyond neither here nor there...

United Kingdom

Penguin Classics
Purgatorio (Penguin Classics)
(A translation which retains much of the poetic meter, with good illustrations and notes, as well as the original Italian alongside the English)

Oxford World's Classics
The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(A combined translation of all three parts of the Divine Comedy; the Inferno, the Purgatorio and the Paradisio, all in a highly accessible style)


United States

Penguin Classics
The Divine Comedy, Part 2: Purgatory (Penguin Classics) (v. 2)
(A translation which retains much of the poetic meter, with good illustrations and notes, as well as the original Italian alongside the English)

Oxford World's Classics

The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(A combined translation of all three parts of the Divine Comedy; the Inferno, the Purgatorio and the Paradisio, all in a highly accessible style)

Heart of the Inferno

Shivering violently in the chill wind, Dante and Virgil ventured onward, closer and closer to very centre of the Inferno. Leaving the deranged shouting of Count Ugolino far behind (for the previous episode in the story of the Inferno, please click here), our poet could not veil his fear, try though he might, for he was grimly aware that somewhere down here, the greatest of all traitors must lie - Lucifer himself...

Dante and Virgil upon Cocytus
Painting by Gustave Doré

After a precarious march further along the frozen lake of Cocytus, Dante noticed that the souls appeared to be fixed deeper into the ice, with all but their tortured faces swallowed by Cocytus. The souls were in agony, for in their plight they wept, but the sheer cold had frozen their tears, as though each bore a visor of crystal over their faces. One such soul gave a muffled cry, and begged our pilgrims to break the ice from his stricken face. Dante, hearing his voice, called back, "If this is what you want, tell me your name; and if I do not help you, may I be forced to drop beneath this ice!" The sinner replied that he was Friar Alberigo, and that he paid the price in Hell even whilst his body still lived on, far above. Years before, at a banquet, he had ordered the deaths of his own brother and nephew. The Friar had called for some figs, and at this prearranged signal, his guards had rushed in and slain his kin. For his heinous betrayal of his guests and family, his immortal soul had been cast by Fate into Hell, as a demon took possession of his mortal form. This penultimate area of Cocytus was Tolomea, Round Three of the Ninth Circle of Hell, to which are condemned those who violate the holy bond between a host and his guest. Unlike all other regions of Hell, the sinners here can well still be alive on Earth, yet bound too, in unholy Cocytus. The Friar speaks too of Branca D'Oria, a fellow sinner bound in the ice, a man whom Dante knew in life. Stunned at this news, and appalled at his crimes, Dante ignored the Friar's plea to clear the ice from his eyes, and sternly walked on.

Lucifer
Photograph taken by the author in the Baptistery
of St. John, Florence

At last, after braving all the perils of the Inferno, Dante had now arrived at the final lair of evil, Judecca, the Fourth Round of the Ninth Circle of Hell. To here are banished the very gravest of sinners, those who have betrayed their own benefactors. In the distant fog, a gargantuan outline began to take form, just as a mountain emerges from a thick mist. The deathly cold gale was so intense that Dante held his head down, as his eyes fell upon a morbid sight. For here, the souls of the damned were frozen deep within Cocytus, their condemned bodies held in suspended animation, in cruelly contorted positions, for as far as the eye could see into the depths of the lake. Completely submerged in ice, no sound came from their lips, but for frantic whimpering destined never to be heard. Dante shuddered at the eerie silence, but Virgil took his arm and led him on. The time had come. Bracing him, Virgil consoled his fellow poet:


                            " This is he, this is Dis; this is the place
                               that calls for all the courage you have in you.

                               How chilled and nerveless, Reader, I felt then;
                               do not ask me - I cannot write about it -
                               there are no words to tell you how I felt.

                               I did not die - I was not living either!
                               Try to imagine, if you can imagine,
                               me there, deprived of life and death at once... "
                                           - DANTE LOOKS UPON THE FACE OF SATAN

Satan Bound
Engraving by Gustave Doré

The mist lifted, and there, in all his infernal glory, lay Lucifer himself, bound to the waist by the icy clutches of Cocytus. Once the most beautiful of all the angels of Heaven, Lucifer, the Morning Star, was perfect in all things but for the most terrible of things, his pride. Refusing to bow to the Son of God, he dared to openly challenge God for the throne of Heaven, and open war thundered across the vaults of Heaven (for more about this, please click here). Defeated, he, along with the one third of the angelic host that had sided with him, were cast out of Heaven, and hurled to ruinous perdition in Hell. Taking the new name of Satan, as one of only two beings to have committed open treachery against God, he now endured an eternity of retribution for his crimes, at the very Pit of Hell. Dante stood transfixed, overcome with awe at the sight of him. Nothing could have prepared him for the colossal being now bound before him. "My height is closer to the height of giants than theirs is to the length of his great arms", Dante remarks. The former archangel towered high above Cocytus, even though his body from the waist down stretched far below the surface. From his titanic head, three faces burst angrily forth, each holding a sinner tight in its jaws. A pair of vast, bat like wings lay fixed below each, the pure white plumage that once adorned them having been burned away after his treachery against the Most High. Tears flowed from his blazing eyes, tears of rage mingled with grief at his lost Paradise. Six streams of tears flowed down his body, mixing with the blood dripping from his mouth. Still he sought to escape his infernal prison, as he violently flapped his enormous wings, desperate to break free of Cocytus. But in his pride, he was blind to the reality that the icy winds generated by his wings merely prolonged his suffering, constantly freezing the waters of the lake.

In the jaws of the left face, one as black as the night, a sinner convulsed in desperation. Virgil revealed to Dante his identity as Marcus Junius Brutus, the man who drove the blade into Julius Caesar, betraying his ruler, and the united Italy that he brought. In the jaws of the right face, one yellow as sulphur, another sinner jerked in pain. He was Gaius Cassius Longinus, a fellow conspirator of Brutus, and another of the assassins of Caesar. But in the central face, one red with fury, was the only other soul apart from Satan himself who had directly betrayed God, all for thirty pieces of silver - Judas Iscariot. The teeth of Satan crunched down upon his twitching body without end, but he also suffered another brutal torture, as the claws of the devil slashed open his body, tearing the flesh asunder.

Dante gazes upon Mount Purgatory
Painting by Bronzino 

The grisly sight caused a ripple of nausea in Dante, and Virgil saw that the time had come to leave the Inferno at last, though alas there was only one way to leave. Waiting for the opportune moment, Virgil seized Dante's arm and dashed forwards, latching onto the tangled and matted hair that grew on Satan's sides. Dante held on for dear life to Virgil's shoulder, as the great Roman poet descended down and down, past the surface of freezing Cocytus. Then, just as the two pilgrim reached Satan's thigh, the world seemed to Dante to turn on its head. Virgil adjusted his grip, and turned to face the feet of the devil, and began to climb. Puzzled, Dante held on still. At last, they came to a rocky cavern, and the two stopped for a rest. Glancing back, there stood the two towering legs of Satan, bursting forth into the air. For they had passed the very core of the cosmos, and gravity had turned on its head. Virgil explained that Satan had been thrown down to Hell with such force that he had smashed his way through the Earth, and now lay frozen in the same position he had fallen, many millennia ago. The very cavern they sat in now was caused when the land had been forced upward by the Morning Star's fall. Eager to put as much distance between themselves and Satan as possible, the two set off together along the rising road, in darkness. After what seemed an age, Dante spotted something that seemed more glorious than anything he had seen for an age. Stars! They had done it, they had reached the surface at last. But for Dante, the adventure had only just begun. Ahead lay a vast mountain, towering high. The Mountain of Purgatory...

With this, the story of the Inferno comes to an end, but the Divine Comedy has only begun, as Dante slowly makes his way toward the ultimate destination, the light of God in Heaven itself. The Inferno, however, has become legendary in its own right, and immortalised Dante as the greatest of all Italian poets, and a father of Western literature. Written in short and easily read chapters, or cantos as they are called, the Inferno is a remarkable read, as engaging today as it was when Dante wrote it as an exile from his native Florence, in the early years of the fourteenth century. Few things have been written which so emphatically warn of the consequences of evil...

The Inferno is readily, and easily available from Amazon, and is more than worthy of a position on your shelf:


United Kingdom

Penguin Classics:
Dante: Inferno (Penguin Classics)
(A translation which retains much of the poetic meter, with good illustrations and notes, as well as the original Italian alongside the English)

Oxford World's Classics:
The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(A combined translation of all three parts of the Divine Comedy; the Inferno, the Purgatorio and the Paradisio, all in a highly accessible style)

United States

Penguin Classics:
The Divine Comedy: Volume 1: Inferno (Penguin Classics) (Pt. 1)
(A translation which retains much of the poetic meter, with good illustrations and notes, as well as the original Italian alongside the English)

Oxford World's Classics:

The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(A combined translation of all three parts of the Divine Comedy, the Inferno, the Purgatorio and the Paradisio, all in a highly accessible style)

Into the Abyss

His thoughts still wracked by the gruesome sights of cleaved souls, it was with a profound sense of foreboding that Dante ventured onward, deeper and deeper into the Inferno on his dark journey (for the previous episode in this story, please click here). After a rebuke from his guide, Virgil, for his sympathy for the damned souls, the two poets arrive at the edge of a rickety bridge, with the final of the Rotten Pockets of the Eighth Circle of Hell stretching far below on the valley floor...

The Falsifiers
Painting by Giovanni di Paolo

" Wierd shrieks of lamentation
   pierced through me,
   like arrow shafts whose tips
   are barbed with pity,
   so that my hands were
   covering my ears "
          - THE CRIES OF THE FALSIFIERS

It was as all the plague hospitals in marshy, malaria ridden Tuscany had been crammed together into one fetid ditch, Dante thought. The screams of agony rang through his ears, and the grotesque stench of decay rose to his nostrils. Covering their noses with their drapes, the two poets descended to the foot of the mountains, as the din grew louder yet. Fighting back a wave of nausea, Dante looked on, as the rocky floor was strewn with the bodies of men and women struck with the most terrible afflictions. His eyes noticed two men, writhing in pain, frantically slashing at the sores on their flesh with their own nails, desperate to relief the itching that would not cease. For here in the last Rotten Pocket are punished the falsifiers, those who through their lies and perjury in life were a disease upon society. So now their bodies are corrupted by disease in death. Among the many Italians condemned to this plight, Dante spies two souls history knows well. The first, the wife of Potiphar, who through her false accusation incriminated Joseph, the second, Sinon, the Greek spy who persuaded the men of Troy to take the Horse within their walls. Many too, are afflicted with insanity, and frantically cavort around, acting more as beast than men, snapping and biting at any that approach. They see the lady Myrrha too, who through the malicious designs of the gods, seduced her own father whilst disguised (and who, incidentally, that myrrh is named after). Shuddering with disgust, our pilgrims turn their back on the rotten trench, and move on into the darkness.

Antaeus lowers Dante and Virgil
to the Ninth Circle of Hell
Painting by William Blake

Feeling his way through the impenetrable blackness, not for the first time Dante's ears nearly bled with a thunderous noise that blasted throughout Hell. The sound of a horn trumpeting not far ahead roused both men to their senses. As the darkness rolled aside, a city of many, gargantuan, towers seemed to appear. Blinking, with a start Dante realised that they were no towers. Giants! The most colossal beings the cosmos had ever seen. For here, straddling the chasm of the Ninth Circle were the Titans themselves, supreme beings whom the Olympian Gods had fought that devastating war for the mastery of the Heavens (a story which is told here). There too was the race of Giants who had followed them, and tried in vain to overthrow Jupiter himself. With a face greater in form than the mightiest cathedrals in Christendom, the giant Nimrod, who had blown the horn, looked down upon them. Dante's courage began to buckle in fear as he gazed back at the being who, in his pride, had dared to raise the Tower of Babel to God's throne, and was responsible for the fact that man no more speaks a common language. Approaching closer, Dante saw Ephialtes too, the Giant who dared to raise the mountains high to Olympus' lofty heights and seize the Heavenly Halls by force. Terrifying though they were, the Giants were tightly bound in chains, and could not move, but only leer in deathly silence. All that is, except for the Giant Antaeus, whom Heracles had once slain in ancient times. At Virgil's stern command, however, Antaeus obliged, knowing as he did the folly of violating the divine mandate which protected both pilgrims. Opening his titanic hand, Antaeus gently lowered Dante and Virgil into the Ninth and final Circle of Hell, as Virgil expressed relief to Dante that they had not been forced to venture further within the Giants, for deeper within was bound the most fearsome monster that ever lived - Typhon, a terrible abomination who struck fear into the hearts of mortals and gods alike (whose story is also told here).

Lake Cocytus
Engraving by Gustave Doré

As the Giant released them, Dante felt a strange new sensation. Their journey throughout Hell had been a long and torturous one, through Eight Circles they had descended; now just one remained, the final bastion of Sin where those who have committed the most heinous crimes of all are bound. For it is within this Circle that the greatest sinner of them all, Satan himself, is shackled in an eternity of torment. Here was the very Pit of the Universe itself, and the weight of all the cosmos, and all Hell, pressed down upon those bound within the Final Circle. Edging forwards, Dante felt a sudden, piercing cold at his feet. They were walking atop the surface of a vast lake, frozen solid by the sheer cold, an ethereal icy wind blasting over its surface from a distant source. This was the Lake Cocytus, in which were imprisoned forever those beings guilty of that gravest of crimes - Treachery. No lake or river on Earth bore ice so thick, Dante thought, no mountain which crashed upon it would so much as crack its sheets of clear crystal. To his horror, our pilgrim noticed the souls of men and women, encased in the ice below and all around him, frozen solid, yet all too aware, eyes wide in blind terror. The souls frozen in Cocytus in the Ninth Circle are ordered into five Rounds, according to the seriousness of their betrayal  Here, in the First Round, known as Caïna, are tortured those who betrayed their own kin. The souls here, Dante notices, are frozen to the face in the ice, their heads alone, blue with the deathly chill, are free. Among the many Dante knew in life, there are those legendary in history here too. For Cain himself, the Son of Adam and Eve who murdered his own brother Abel in the Book of Genesis, is held here as the Round's namesake. Near Cain's side writhes Sir Mordred, the Knight of the Round Table who betrayed and slew King Arthur himself, his own father, in battle during a climactic duel (whose story will be told in a future post).

Count Ugolino
Illustration by Giovanni Stradano

Shaken, but resolute, Dante and Virgil made their way deeper into Cocytus' icy grip, closer to the heart of the Universe. Starting to shiver uncontrollably, Dante covered his face with his robes, desperate to shield his eyes from the frigid wind. Suddenly a scream pierced through the roaring gale, and Dante realised he had accidentally kicked a poor soul in the face. After a plethora of wrathful words from the man, nearby souls identified him as Bocca degli Abati. Dante recoiled in unveiled fury, for this was the man who betrayed his native Florence, siding with Siena in the crushing Florentine defeat that was the Battle of Montaperti. For here was Round Two of the Final Circle, named Antenora, where those who betrayed their city, party or nation suffer the eternal price. Held here is the Round's namesake, Antenor, the counsellor to King Priam of Troy, who treacherously opened the Gates of the great city to the Greek hordes. Proceeding further in, Dante stops by two souls, one gnawing on the head of another. The man looks up and introduces himself as Count Ugolino, and his companion as Archbishop Ruggieri. Ugolino had conspired to overthrow the Ghibelline (pro-Imperial party in medieval Italy) and replace it with a Guelph (pro-Papacy party in medieval Italy) regime in his native Pisa. Ruggieri, his co-conspirator, later turned on Ugolino, imprisoning him and his family in a tower until they starved to death. Now in Hell both men are punished for their treachery. Time draws in, and both poets continue along Cocytus' icy sheets. The blasting winds grow unbearable, and Dante turns to his guide, "What causes such  a wind, my master? I thought no heat could reach into these depths". Virgil turned, with a dark look, and replied "Before long you will be where your own eyes can answer for themselves...", as both men walked on, and the very heart of Hell opened up before them...


United Kingdom

Penguin Classics:
Dante: Inferno (Penguin Classics)
(A good version with both English and Italian text, as well as illustrations)

Oxford World's Classics:
The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(A readily accessible and well annotated version which also contains Purgatorio and Paradisio)

United States

Penguin Classics:
The Divine Comedy: Volume 1: Inferno (Penguin Classics) (Pt. 1)
(A good version with both English and Italian text, as well as illustrations)

Oxford World's Classics:
The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(A readily accessible and well annotated version which also contains Purgatorio and Paradisio)

The Thieves, the Deceivers and the Sowers of Discord

Thwarted by the trickery at which Hell's minions are so adept, Virgil and Dante struggle up the vast escarpment which leads forth to the seventh of the Rotten Pockets of the penultimate Circle of Hell (for the previous instalment in this saga, please click here). Drained to exhaustion by the journey, it is with tremendous effort that the two poets drag themselves to the towering crest. After a few words of encouragement from Virgil, with one last heave, Dante clears the summit and finds himself on a slender bridge over a vast gorge, its inky blackness hiding all but faint cries emanating from the blackened depths.

The Thieves
Engraving by Gustave Doré

Overcome with curiosity, Dante stoops, desperate to catch word of the voices far below. But it is in vain, all he can discern is that whoever it is that speaks must be running swiftly. Turning to his master, he begs to know, and the two descend into the murky pit. Coming to the edge of a steep bank, a hideous sight greets their eyes. The souls of sinners, naked and terrified, run across the valley floor, desperate to seek cover which is not there. For the ground is coated in the writhing coils of countless serpents, some far mightier in size than any snake which makes the Earth above its home. The hands of many are bound in the serpentine coils, and yet more are wrapped around their limbs. Just then, the figure of a man sprints past our poets in fear, as a snake rears its great head, its eyes fixed upon him. In a flash as though of lightning, the serpent lunges, its aim true as it strikes the man, murderous fangs piercing his neck. Another flash, and the sinner erupts in flames, a heap of crumbling ash left in his wake. As though a phoenix, soon the man rises anew from the ashes. Sensing Dante's bewilderment, Virgil calls out to the soul, questioning him as to his presence here. "Not too long ago I rained from Tuscany", the man replies, a man named Vanni Fucci, who once stole from the sacristy of Pistoia. Bitter and angry at his fate, Fucci rises up and curses God, but briefly, as a swarm of spitting snakes descends upon him, binding him so tightly that not a muscle can move. Alerted to the blasphemy within his domain, a fierce monster gallops towards them, a raging centaur, his back alive with serpents. Virgil turns to Dante and declares the creature to be Cacus, the famous giant who in the most ancient times once prowled the Aventine Hill, one of the Seven great Hills of that would one day give birth to Rome. Having once stolen a herd of precious cattle, Cacus was slain by Heracles, another foul beast conquered underneath that club. Now he rules over the thieves in Hell.


Three tortured souls suddenly see our two poets looking down upon them. "Who are you two?" one calls out to them. But the spirit pays dearly for his moment's distraction. A colossal snake pounces upon him, binding him in six coils. With a pitiful whimper, the sinner's flesh begins to melt, and the serpent and the man soon become as one, fused into a hideous chimaera. Moaning softly, the soul ambles off into the blackness. The second accursed man is soon seized by another creature, and the man transforms into the snake, and the snake to he. Wisely, the third man flees in fear, destined to continue this deadly game for eternity. For herein lies the true horror of the plight of thieves in Hell. Just as they stole the material things of men in life, now their very identity is taken from them in Hell.

The Deceivers
Engraving by Gustave Doré

Hurrying along the Rotten Pocket, Dante bemoans the sheer number of Florentines he has seen here in Hell. Arriving at the crest of a new valley, our pilgrims look down into the eighth of the Rotten Pockets of the Eighth Circle of Hell. Suddenly reminded of the fireflies rising to the night sky, Dante looks down into the abyss. For this valley is not shrouded in blackness, but shimmers brightly with many brilliant flames. Each flame blusters about the pit, blazing brightly, too brightly to reveal what each holds inside. Virgil turns to his protégé and explains the sorry fortunes of this place, for within each burning conflagration is bound a soul, each swathed in fiery doom. Suddenly spotting a flame with two heads, our inquisitive poet asks what is behind this peculiar fate. Within this flame, Virgil explains, are bound Ulysses (Odysseus) and Diomedes, two great heroes from ancient times, who now suffer jointly in Hell (for the feats of Diomedes, please click here). Both men conceived the trick that spelled the doom for proud Troy. Spurning the valour of arms on the open field, cunning Ulysses and powerful Diomedes turned to malicious fraud to achieve their victory, a sin for which they now burn in Hell. Dante yearns to speak to the heroes of yore, but Virgil intercedes. These men hail from an era long gone, an era which Virgil himself once saw in life, and only he may commune with them. The blazing flame approaches, and the higher of its two peaks flickers, and begins to speak. The voice is that of Ulysses, and the hero tells the tale of his last great voyage over the sea, far beyond the boundaries of the known world. Eager to seek what lay beyond the Western Ocean, his crew rowed for five days and nights, until a fell tempest blasted their ship upon the slopes of Mount Purgatory. Ulysses is overcome by grief at his memories, as another flame approaches.


Recognising the accent of Lombardy which Virgil speaks so well, the flame begs to know of the plight of Romagna, is it in peace or war?  This time, Virgil encourages Dante to speak, proficient in the Italian tongue as he is. For the flame chains within the soul of Guido da Montefeltro, once a great Lord of Urbino and warrior to the Pope. Romagna is still the prey to the savages of war, Dante sadly informs him, as Ravenna's land still seeks peace. Dante asks Guido if he will tell him his story in return. The soul mournfully declares that if he thought Dante had any chance of returning to the land of the living, he would not, but since all who enter Hell never leave, he will do so this once. With bitter fury, Guido reveals that he would have joined the heavenly host, pious friar and loyal defender as he was, but for the machinations of Pope Boniface VIII, whose name he curses in Hell. As the Pope once warred with Palestrina seemingly without end, Guido had advised him to offer amnesty, and then renege upon it after the surrender. The stratagem worked, and the fortress fell, as the papal troops razed it to the ground. Horrified at the slaughter, Guido entered the order of St Francis of Assisi, becoming a devout Franciscan. As the years took their toll, and the spirit of Guido left his body, St Francis came for him, but woe! A cruel cherub of Hell got there first, and dragged him to the fiery depths. For here are punished those who received the gifts of wisdom, but use them for malicious ends, a fate Dante feels great sorrow for. But the hour grows late once more, and our two poets make for the penultimate Rotten pocket of the Eighth Circle of Hell:


                         " Who could, even in the simplest kind of prose
                                   describe in full the scene of blood and wounds
                                   that I saw now - no matter how he tried!
             
                           Certainly any tongue would have to fail:
                                   man's memory and man's vocabulary
                                   are not enough to comprehend such pain. "
                                                        - THE SOWERS OF DISCORD

The Sowers of Discord
Engraving by Gustave Doré

With a shudder of nausea at the grotesque sight before him, Dante reasons that if all the slain from battles past, from wars waged on Italy's fertile plains, were piled high, the sight would be nothing compared with this. For the souls of the damned here have a terrible fate, as their corporeal forms are ripped asunder. As the souls run in chaos and agony, there stand above them horned daemons, each rending flesh with a violent swipe of their cruel blades. Before Dante's very eyes, one soul desperately sprints past, fleeing a daemon behind. But alas, another in front slices him open, spilling his guts onto the filthy floor. As Dante looks upon the man in pity, the soul looks up and the two gaze upon each other. He reveals himself to be Muhammed, the prophet of Islam, deformed and torn in this cruel land. Before him flees Ali, his son-in-law, fleeing the murderous blades. Muhammed explains that all here were condemned to this realm for spreading discord and schism in life (Dante viewed Islam as itself a breakaway faith of Christianity, and condemns Ali for his division of Islam into the Sunni and Shi'a sects). Just as they tore apart societies in life, now they are themselves torn asunder in Hell. Each soul runs a deadly circuit through the Pocket, their wounds slowly healing, only for them to be ripped open once again when they reach the beginning. Muhammed warns Dante of the others still alive on Earth that they are heading for a similar fate, the heretical preacher Fra Dolcino being one of them. The deadly guardians closing in, Muhammed takes flight once again. More shouts, and more souls thunder by, many of them Italians. Gaius Scribonius Curio, the man who advised Julius Caesar to cross the Rubicon and make war on Rome, approaches, though he is mute, for a vengeful daemon has severed his tongue. Another soul, headless, bearing its severed head as though a lantern, calls out to them, daring them to look on at his "monstrous punishment". The decapitated man reveals that he was once Bertran de Born, the man who encouraged the young Prince Henry to raise arms against his own father, King Henry II of England.

Despairing, Dante wonders how many more people he will see in Hell that he recognises. As the two poets begin their journey to the final Rotten Pocket, Dante is left pondering, what dread fate awaits those condemned to the very bottom of Hell, and what manner of crime will earn a being a place there?

United Kingdom

Penguin Classics:
Dante: Inferno (Penguin Classics)
(A nice version which has both the Italian and English text)

Oxford World's Classics:
The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(Well annotated and readily accessible, including the entire Divine Comedy)

United States

Penguin Classics:
The Divine Comedy: Volume 1: Inferno (Penguin Classics) (Pt. 1)
(A nice version which has both the Italian and English text)

Oxford World's Classics:
The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(Well annotated and readily accessible, including the entire Divine Comedy)

The Sorcerers, the Corrupt and the Hypocrites

Still seething with anger at the corruption within the Roman Church, Dante and Virgil walk the path to the fourth of the Rotten Pockets of the Eighth Circle of Hell (for the precursor to this story, please click here). Deeper and deeper into the regions of Hell where the fraudulent meet their judgement they descend, as the very air of Hell grows heavy upon their shoulders, until Dante arrives at the summit of a steep drop, where at the bottom more sinners lurk.

The Nine Circles of Hell
Painting by Sandro Botticelli.

Just within sight, our pilgrim spies the valley floor awash with tears, tears shed by the mournful spirits of the damned within. Movement suddenly breaks the deathly stillness of the pit. Shades begin to move far below. Slowly and clumsily a fresh array of souls march across the pocket, oddly deformed though they are. Gazing at their sorry, weeping faces, Dante's eyes move down over their broken forms, revealing their cruel punishment. Twisted and contorted beyond nature, these poor souls see only behind them, whilst their bodies face the fore. Cascading down their front, their hair, down their back, their tears, these are the souls of the sorcerers and the false prophets. Here the punishment is an ironic taunt of the condemned's crime in life. For while the soothsayers claimed foresight of the future in life, here they see only the past in Hell. Amongst the many suffering spirits from ancient and modern times, Dante spots many he and Virgil recognise. One such shade that ambles before them is the blind seer Tiresias, the man blessed with prophecy by Zeus, the very man who revealed to Oedipus his dread fate in Thebes, many thousands of years ago (in a story told on this site, please click here). Having once briefly been transformed into a woman, Tiresias held the secret knowledge of both man and woman, and was revered for the unique revelations this brought unto him, even by the gods. The gods questioned Tiresias about goddesses, and goddesses of gods, until argument broke out upon Olympus' snowy peaks. In a rage, Hera struck Tiresias blind, but in compassion, Zeus imparted within Tiresias the power of foresight. A gift for which he now pays (rather unfairly) in Hell. Many others who placed faith in the words of the Oracle of Delphi in ancient times follow in his wake, stricken with grief at their sad fate. But the hour grows late and the Moon speeds its passage across the skies.

A Barrator is cast into the boiling pit of tar
Engraving by Gustave Doré.

Crossing over a bridge of crumbling stone, the two poets stumble upon the fifth of the Rotten Pockets of Hell. Dante is struck by how thick the darkness is that closes in. His mind suddenly turned to the pitch used to coat the hull of a ship, he sees a vast lake as black as night. Bubbles boil to the surface of the infernal waters, but before he can consider too long, a nightmarish apparition swoops upon them, leathery wings spanning wide, evil horns sprouting from its form. A sinner is borne upon its shoulders, terror upon his face, as the winged demon mercilessly casts him into the accursed pit. More of the foul demons pass into sight, all hurling taunts at the souls within the pit. From their words, our pilgrim learns that here are condemned politicians tainted with corruption. Just as their blighted souls and dark dealings spoiled their honour in life, so now they are immersed in sticky and burning tar in death. Their numbers are many, crooked counsellors of the Italian cities alone stretch as far as the eye can see. Men, who for coin can 'change a no into a yes', writhe in agony in the pit, and those who in desperation seek respite from the burning tar are pounced upon by the demons, ever ready with their cruel weapons. These malevolent fallen angels are the Malebranche, whose sole task is to maintain the suffering of their domain. Suddenly, they see before them our two poets. Claiming the authority of the Most High, Virgil steps forward and demands safe passage through the pocket. Arrogant and disbelieving, Malacoda, their fell captain, steps forward. His kin suddenly aware of Dante, and assuming him to have been send for his judgement, pounce upon him. But Malacoda stays their blades, fearful of God's wrath. Virgil and Dante may take their path, he declares, and he will even supply an escort, since he tells them the bridge they seek lies broken, having collapsed many centuries ago.


The dark troop set off alongside the banks of the lake. The damned tremble at their approach, and dive into the tar in terror.The fell creatures drag a poor sinner from the pit, and for the thrill of torture they pierce him with their spears, laughing at his plight. In desperation, the sinner begs to be hurled back to the tar, promising to return with more. Maddened by glee, the demons release him. But the sinner does not return. Enraged that the spirit has once more committed fraud, the very reason for his sentence to Hell, the Malebranche quarrel as to how seek vengeance, before pelting after him. In the struggle, two of the demons fall into the boiling pitch. Sensing trickery in the confusion, Virgil urgently seizes Dante's hand, and they frantically scarper down a vast slope of scree.

The Hypocrites
Engraving by Gustave Doré.

Not a moment too soon our poets reach the foot of the mount, for far above them, the Malebranche have returned, flailing their wings in anger at their escaped prey. Dante turns, shuddering at the thought of being left alone in this place, when a curious new sight greets his wearied eyes. A great line of souls, shuffling forward with no great speed, their forms all but hidden by strange shining cloaks. Dazzled for but a moment, Dante realised the cloaks gleam as though made of gold, yet the souls are bent over, seeing nothing but the ground. Puzzled at this new ordeal, our pilgrim turns to his master, questioning him on this fate. Hearing Tuscan spoken aloud, a nearby soul raises its head and slowly marches toward them. Another soon follows, the two apparently friends in life. Dante introduces himself as a proud Florentine, and eagerly askes them who they once were. 'Jovial Friars' they once were, of the Order of the Blessed Virgin Mary (a 13th century military order). Renowned as the Friars were for failing to keep to their monastic vows, Dante realises that here, in the sixth of the Rotten Pockets of Hell, are punished the hypocrites. Gilded and gleaming though their heavy cloaks may be on the inside, within they are lined with lead, its crushing weight barring their passage on into the afterlife. Just as their words masked falsehood within in life, so their outward displays of affluence betray a crippling burden in Hell.

Despairing at their wretchedness, Dante begins to rebuke the deceitful spirits, when suddenly the souls part to reveal a terrible punishment in their midst. Another shade lies there, crucified to the ground, his weak form hammered into the harsh ground. This man is Caiaphas, the man who preached to the Pharisees the inevitability that one man must die for many, but who himself bade Pontius Pilate condemn Christ to the crucifixion. He is cursed here as a seed of evil. Dante notices that even Virgil looks on in amazement, but is puzzled why. Before he can learn why, however, Virgil asks the Friars for a way out of this place. Certainly, they reply, escape is possible, all they must do is climb up the escarpment, and take the bridge that spans this realm. Cursing, Virgil suddenly realised the deceit of Malacoda. The bridge was not broken at all. One of the souls turns sympathetically to Virgil:


                 "And the friar: 'Once, in Bologna, I heard discussed
                           the devil's many vices; one of them is
                           that he tells lies and is father of all lies "

                                                        - THE DECEIT OF HELL

Affronted, and angered, Virgil strides off, Dante in hot pursuit, glad of company, but uneasy that here they begin to penetrate the reaches of Hell where not even his great guide knows all any longer. For they come ever closer to the Pit of Hell now, and Satan's malign influences grow in strength...

United Kingdom

Penguin Classics:
Dante: Inferno (Penguin Classics)
(A nice edition which also has the original Italian on the left hand page opposite the English)

Oxford World's Classics:
The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(Accessible and well annotated, also includes Purgatorio and Paradisio)

United States

Penguin Classics:
The Divine Comedy: Volume 1: Inferno (Penguin Classics) (Pt. 1)
(A nice edition which also has the original Italian on the left hand page opposite the English)

Oxford World's Classics:
The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(Accessible and well annotated, also includes Purgatorio and Paradisio)

Greed, Wrath and Sloth

Regaining consciousness after his harrowing ordeal, Dante finds himself in a harsh and cruel new place (for the precursor to this, please click here). The eerie, vast abyss of Hell plays tricks on our pilgrim's mind, as the true extent of unholy retribution against the damned slowly becomes clear. "New sufferings and new sinners suffering appeared to me, no matter where I turned my eyes, no matter where I gazed". His vision unblurring and his senses taking hold once more, fresh horrors await the traveller to the impious land.

Cerberus
Engraving by Gustave Doré.

No sooner than Dante spies his guide, Virgil, awaiting nearby than a dreadful alliance of foul things assault his senses. A fetid smell rises in the air, as thundering rain batters the ground. This is no ordinary rain however. Dense hail and filthy water churn with snow upon the ground of Hell, the disgusting slush spreading nausea all around. Just then, a howling roar echoes through the pounding rain, and our pilgrim starts in fear. Looking around in terror, his eyes find its source. The mighty hound of Hell, Cerberus, lies sprawling in the squalor, his three throats bellowing through the downpour. As sickening in sight as his lair is in smell, the gigantic beast is a horror for Dante to look upon. Eyes swollen red, black drool pouring from his three mouths and more a mound of twitching muscle than a true form, the polluted claws slash and mangle the spirits of the damned all about. The demonic dog suddenly is made aware of the presence of Dante and Virgil, snarling and baring his fangs in anger, aware that they do not belong in his realm. Virgil, however, is unperturbed. Kneeling into the grotesque muck, the great poet takes up a handful of the horrid slime and casts them into the greedy jaws:

             " As a howling cur, hungering to get fed,
                     quiets down with the first mouthful of his food,
                     busy with eating, wrestling with that alone,

               So it was with all three filthy heads
                     of the demon Cerberus, used to barking thunder
                     on these dead souls, who wished that they were deaf. "
                                       - VIRGIL WARDS OFF CERBERUS

Though marshy underfoot from the heavy rain, our two poets journey on into the pestilence. As they journey on, Dante becomes aware that he walks upon the cursed shades, beaten down to near nothingness by the torrential rain, struggling in the choking sludge. One among them sits up straight, a man Dante once knew in life, a fellow Florentine. Ciacco is his name and for his sin of gluttony, he was condemned to this place, the Third Circle of Hell, along with many others, all given over to engorgement. The two men speak of Florence and her politics, lamenting at so few good souls who dwelled within. Dante asks of his friends, Jacopo Rusticucci, Arrigo, Mosca and the others, do they enjoy Heaven's sweetness or have they been cast into the darkness? "They lie below with blacker souls" Ciacco mournfully concedes, beckoning Dante further on. Staring awhile at the living man, Ciacco soon falls down into the muddy wastes to join his voracious kin. Onwards the two poets venture, bemoaning the loss of hope all shades of Hell endure, as the path descends, twists and turns, to the Fourth Circle of Hell.

The Spendthrifts and the Misers
Engraving by Gustave Doré.

Upon the doors to the next realm, a swollen figure appears, in the shape of a man, yet muttering nonsensical noises and inane ramblings. This is Plutus, the god of wealth and enemy of man, and this Circle is his realm, to where all who worship riches are condemned. Shouting at the god, Virgil states their purpose as divinely ordained and willed from on high. Plutus shrinks back to the shadows, as the poets enter his domain. Great shouts and bellowings pierce the air, as Dante looks on in shock. Far more spirits are bound here than in any realm above. As though some twisted joust, the souls push enormous weights toward the centre, straining with all their might, sweat pouring from their limbs. When they meet in the centre one asks the other "Why hoard?", while the other "Why waste?", before turning back and beginning again, and again, and again, and again and again. For here are punished the spendthrifts, those who lavished riches in life, and the miserly, those who relentlessly pursued wealth in life yet could not bear to spend any of their own. Dante notices in dismay that there are great many priests and Popes among the damned here, most susceptible to avarice were they. Wondering if he will recognise any among these wretched men, Dante turns to his master. An empty hope, he replies, their lives were undistinguished, as they have become now. So enamoured of their riches are they that they are oblivious to all else around. Disgusted by their insatiable greed, Virgil turns to his follower:

               " You see, my son, the short-lived mockery
                         of all the wealth that is in Fortune's keep,
                         over which the human race is bickering;

                 For all the gold that is or ever was
                         beneath the moon won't buy a moment's rest
                         for even one among those weary souls. "
                                         - VIRGIL DESPAIRS OF THE FUTILITY OF GREED

The Wrathful
Painting by William-Adolphe Bougereau.

Appalled, and struck with revulsion, Virgil bids Dante on, as the stars which rose when they first met even now begin to fall. Crossing the Circle to a further bank, they pass a boiling spring, which spits and overflows with its raging waters into a ditch. Descending further into the bowels of Hell, Dante notices new faces appearing in the torrents. Filthy people, unclad and faces twisted with anger churned the vile water to rapids, as the stream flowed into the great River Styx. Consumed with their wrath, the souls rip and tear each other, their teeth rending flesh, there hands and feet tearing each other limb from limb. "Now see the souls that anger overcame", Virgil enlightens the curious Dante. Noticing strange bubbles breaking at the surface, Dante is confused. That is all you can see off the slothful, Virgil proclaims. Sluggish in life in the sweet air under the Sun, now they lie gurgling at the bottom of that foul muck. The condemned sing the hymn of their own doom into eternity, yet the bursting bubbles at the surface is all that is heard.


Nauseous once again, Dante hurries to rejoin his master, when suddenly, a towering citadel looms ominously ahead...

United Kingdom

Penguin Classics:

Dante: Inferno (Penguin Classics)

(A nice edition which even has the original Italian on the left hand side of the page!)

Oxford World's Classics:

The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(Accessible and well annotated, also includes Purgatorio and Paradisio)

United States

Penguin Classics:
The Divine Comedy: Volume 1: Inferno (Penguin Classics) (Pt. 1)
(A nice edition which even has the original Italian on the left hand side of the page!)

Oxford World's Classics:
The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(Accessible and well annotated, also includes Purgatorio and Paradisio)