Inferno

Canto VI

The Third Circle: The Gluttonous. Cerberus. The Eternal Rain. Ciacco. Florence.

When consciousness returned—
it had fled before the pity I felt
for those two lovers,
leaving me overwhelmed with grief—
I see new torments and new sufferers
all around me,
wherever I move,
wherever I turn and look.
Here I am in the third circle, where eternal rain falls—
cursed, cold, and heavy, never changing its cruel law.
Massive hail and dark water and snow
pour down through the murky air without end.
The earth reeks as it receives this deluge.
Cerberus, that cruel and hideous monster,
barks with three throats like a rabid dog
over the people submerged here.
His eyes burn red, his beard drips black and oily,
his belly swells enormous, his hands bristle with claws.
He tears the spirits apart, flays them, rips them to pieces.
The rain makes them howl like dogs.
They try to shield each other with their bodies,
these wretched damned souls, turning constantly in the mire.
When Cerberus saw us—that great worm!—
he opened all his mouths and showed his fangs.
Not one part of him stayed still.
But my guide stretched out his hands,
grabbed fistfuls of the putrid earth,
and hurled it down those ravenous gullets.
CERBERUS
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CERBERUS

Not one part of him stayed still. / But my guide stretched out his hands, / grabbed fistfuls of the putrid earth,

Like a dog that barks and begs for food,
then falls quiet once he gets something to gnaw,
thinking only of devouring what he has—
so those filthy, thundering muzzles of demon Cerberus
fell silent, though the souls still wished they could go deaf
from his terrible roaring.
We walked across these shadows
beaten down by the heavy storm,
stepping on what seemed like bodies but was only emptiness.
All of them lay flat against the ground
except for one, who sat up straight
as soon as he saw us passing by.
"You who are being led through this Hell,"
he said to me, "remember me if you can.
You were created before I was destroyed."
"Your suffering," I answered him,
"may have erased you from my memory—
I don't think I've ever seen you before.
But tell me who you are, placed in this miserable place
with such punishment that, though others may be worse,
none could be more disgusting."
"Your city, so full of envy
that the sack overflows," he said,
"held me in the peaceful life above.
You citizens used to call me Ciacco.
For the destructive sin of gluttony,
as you can see, I'm battered by this rain.
And I'm not the only miserable soul here—
all these others suffer the same penalty
for the same sin." Then he said no more.
THE GLUTTONS—CIACCO
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THE GLUTTONS—CIACCO

You citizens used to call me Ciacco. / For the destructive sin of gluttony,

"Ciacco," I answered, "your wretchedness
weighs on me so heavily it makes me want to weep.
But tell me, if you know—what will happen
to the citizens of our divided city?
Is there anyone just there? And tell me
why so much discord has torn it apart."
"After long struggle," he said,
"they'll come to bloodshed. The country party
will drive out the other with great violence.
But then within three years that side will fall,
and the other will rise again
through the power of one who now waits on the sidelines.
They'll hold their heads high for a long time,
keeping their enemies under heavy burdens,
no matter how much the others weep and rage.
Only two men are just, and no one listens to them.
Envy and pride and greed—
these are the three sparks that have set every heart on fire."
Here he ended his tearful speech.
"I want you to teach me more," I said,
"and give me the gift of further words.
Farinata and Tegghiaio, who were so worthy,
Jacopo Rusticucci, Arrigo, and Mosca,
and the others who set their minds on doing good—
tell me where they are, help me to know them.
I'm desperate to learn whether Heaven sweetens them
or Hell poisons them."
"They're among the blacker souls," he said.
"Different sins drag them down to the bottom.
If you descend that far, you can see them.
But when you return to the sweet world,
please bring me back to others' memory.
I'll tell you no more and answer nothing else."
His eyes, which had looked straight at me, turned aside.
He glanced at me briefly, then bowed his head
and fell face-down like all the other blind souls.
"He won't wake again," my guide said,
"until the angel's trumpet sounds,
when the hostile Judge approaches.
Each soul will find his wretched tomb again,
take back his flesh and human shape,
and hear what echoes through eternity."
We moved on across that filthy mixture
of shadows and rain with slow steps,
talking a little about the life to come.
"Master," I said, "will these torments
increase after the great judgment,
or lessen, or stay just as intense?"
"Go back to your philosophy," he answered,
"which teaches that the more perfect something is,
the more it feels both pleasure and pain.
Though these cursed people can never reach
true perfection, they'll be more complete
after that day than they are now."
We walked in a circle along that path,
saying much more than I won't repeat here,
until we came to the place of descent.
There we found Plutus, the great enemy.