Inferno: Canto XIX

O Simon Magus, O ye wretched train!
Rapacious — who the hallow'd things of God
Do prostitute to gold and sordid gain, —

Those things which should to goodness wedded be;
For you 'tis meet the trumpet sound aloud, —
Assigned to this third gulf of misery!

Now to the vault adjoining had we come,
And on the summit of the bridge we stood.
Where midway hangs its arch athwart the tomb.

Wisdom supreme! how great thy skill, declare
The Heavens— the Earth— and Hell's profound abode!
How just to each thy dispensations are!

The sides and bottom of the livid ground
Were full of holes, where'er mine eyes I moved;
Of like circumference, — and all were round.

Not greater or less ample seem'd their size
Than— in St. John's fair fane, by me beloved—
Those basins form'd for water, to baptize;

(One of the same I broke some years ago,
To save a drowning child: be this my word
A seal, the motive of the deed to show.)

Without each aperture, to sight reveal'd,
A sinner's feet and both his legs appear'd.
Far as the calves; — the rest remain'd conceal'd.

The soles of every one in flames were wrapt,
Which made the joints so forcibly to play.
That every kind of cord they would have snapt.

E'en as a flame with rapid course doth steal
O'er the smooth surface of its oily prey, —
So glided here the fire from toe to heel.

Then I: "O master! say what is his name
Whose quivering legs bespeak intenser pangs.
And seem the victims of a fiercer flame?"

"Wilt thou," he answer'd, "that I bear thee down
Along the bank which there more sloping hangs.
And he himself his evil deeds shall own?"

"That pleaseth me, which pleaseth thee the best;
Thou art, my lord," I said — "thy will is mine;
To thee are known the secrets of my breast."

O'er the fourth pier we then pursued our way.
And to the left descending still incline.
Where full of holes the narrow bottom lay.

Nor did my master set me down again,
Till we had reached that most afflicted shade.
Whose quivering ancles so betray'd his pain.

"O thou whose upper parts are thrust below, —
Fixt like a stake, most wretched soul," I said,
"Oh! if thou canst, a word on me bestow!"

Like to a friar I stood, that doth confess
A murderer, who, to gain a moment's space.
Calls back the priest in his extreme distress.

"What! art thou come — and upright too?" he cried,
"Art thou arrived — and upright, Boniface?
A longer life the prophecy implied.

Art thou so soon with thy possessions sated,
For which with treachery the Lady fair
Was carried off by thee, and then ill treated?"

Like those who stand in wonder and dismay.
Not comprehending a reply they hear.
Duped as they think — not knowing what to say;

So lost was I: — anon the poet cried:
"Inform him thou art not the man he named:" —
I, as directed, instantly replied.

Whereat the spirit writhed with both his feet;
Then sighing with a mournful voice, exclaim'd:
"What is it thou demandest, I entreat?

But if, to learn what name on earth I had,
Thou took'st the pains to scramble down the steep.
Know — with the mighty mantle was I clad;

And truly was descended from a bear:
T'enrich my whelps I laid my schemes so deep.
My wealth I've stow'd above — my person here.

Hid 'neath my head, in durance vile, are now
Those who before me practised simony.
Within the stony fissure dragg'd below.

And in my turn I downward shall descend
When he arrives, whom I took thee to be.
What time I made so sudden a demand.

But my scorch'd feet have longer suffered pain,
And longer has my head been thus depressed.
Than he in like endurance shall remain;

For after him — more impious and unjust —
Shall come a lawless shepherd from the west.
By whom still deeper shall we both be thrust:

He (like another Jason, who we read
In Maccabees, the royal favour won)
Shall France induce his wishes to concede."

Presumption, it might haply be, inspired
The answer which I made him in this tone:
"Say if our blessed Saviour aught required

Of money from St. Peter's hand, when he
The keys entrusted to him? — surely not.
He ask'd no more than — simply — 'Follow me.'

Nor gold nor silver the Disciples took.
When on Matthias fell the destined lot
To fill the place which Judas base forsook:

Wherefore remain, for justly doom'd thou art;
And treasure up the ill-earn'd wealth accurst
Which against Charles so fiercely fired thy heart.

And were it not, that I am still restrained
By reverence for those mighty keys, which erst
In life's sweet season dignified thy hand.

Words more severe than these should I bestow:
Trampling the good, and raising up the bad —
Your avarice overwhelms the world in woe.

To you St. John referr'd, O shepherds vile.
When She, who sits on many waters, had
Been seen with kings her person to defile;

(The same, who with seven heads arose on earth,
And bore ten horns, to prove that power was hers
Long as her husband had delight in worth.)

Your God ye make of silver and of gold;
And wherein differ from Idolaters,
Save that their God is one, but your's a hundred fold?

Ah Constantine! what evils caused to flow —
Not thy conversion, but those fair domains
Thou on the first rich Father didst bestow!"

While I upbraided thus in strain severe.
And rage, or conscience added to his pains.
His either feet were quivering in the air.

My guide was pleased, I do believe, forsooth,
So satisfied a smile his lips expressed.
As he stood listening to my words of truth.

Wherefore around me, both his arms he cast;
And when he had upraised me to his breast.
The way he came he speedily retraced.

Without fatigue he seem'd the weight to bear,
Till on the bridge's top he took his stand.
Which passes from the fourth to the fifth pier.

Here laid he gently down his cherish'd load
Upon the surface of the rocky strand.
Which e'en to goats would seem a rugged road:

Another valley then appear'd at hand.