Tuesday, October 11, 2011


Pape. Satan, Pape Satan Aleppe!
Thus Plutus with his clucking voice began;
And that benignant Sage, who all things knew

Said to encourage me: Let not thy fear
Harm thee; for any power that he may have
Shall not prevent thy going down this crag

Thus we descended into the fourth chasm;
Gaining stil farther on the dolesome shore
Which all the woe of the universe insacks

Here I saw many people, more than elsewhere, many,
On one side and the other, with great howls,
Rolling weights forward by main force of chest.

They clashed together, and then at that point
Each one turned backward, rolling retrograde,

Crying, Why keepest? and, Why squanderest thou?

Thus they returned along the lurid circle
On either hand unto the opposite point,
Shouting their shameful metre evermore.

In the fourth circle, the prodigals and the avaricious contend forever, rolling great weights up the hill, only to encounter each other and fall down and begin again. All the wealth under the sky could not same them from the wiles of Fortune.

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