# Inferno Canto  3

*Exported from [Holy-Writings.com](https://www.holy-writings.com/) on 2026-06-19 — 1 clipping.*

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> 
> Canto III
> 
> Argument
> 
>      Dante, following Virgil, comes to the gate of Hell; where, after having
> read the dreadful words that are written thereon, they both enter. Here, as he
> understands from Virgil, those were punished who had passed their time (for
> living it could not be called) in a state of apathy and indifference both to
> good and evil. Then, pursuing their way, they arrive at the river Acheron; and
> there find the old ferryman Charon, who takes the spirits over to the opposite
> shore; which, as soon as Dante reaches, he is seized with terror, and falls
> into a trance.
> 
> "Through me you pass into the city of woe:
> Through me you pass into eternal pain:
> Through me among the people lost for aye.
> Justice the founder of my fabric moved:
> To rear me was the task of Power divine,
> Supremest Wisdom, and primeval Love.[1]
> Before me things create were none, save things
> Eternal, and eternal I endure.
> All hope abandon, ye who enter here."
> 
> [1: "Power," Wisdom," "Love," the three Persons of the Blessed
> Trinity.]
> 
> Such characters, in color dim, I mark'd
> Over a portal's lofty arch inscribed.
> Whereat I thus: "Master, these words import
> Hard meaning." He as one prepared replied:
> "Here thou must all distrust behind thee leave;
> Here be vile fear extinguish'd. We are come
> Where I have told thee we shall see the souls
> To misery doom'd, who intellectual good
> Have lost." And when his hand he had stretch'd forth
> To mine, with pleasant looks, whence I was cheer'd,
> Into that secret place he led me on.
> 
> Here sighs, with lamentations and loud moans,
> Resounded through the air pierced by no star,
> That e'en I wept at entering. Various tongues,
> Horrible languages, outcries of woe,
> Accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse,
> With hands together smote that swell'd the sounds,
> Made up a tumult, that forever whirls
> Round through that air with solid darkness stain'd,
> Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies.
> 
> I then, with horror yet encompast, cried:
> "O master! what is this I hear? what race
> Are these, who seem so overcome with woe?"
> 
> He thus to me: "This miserable fate
> Suffer the wretched souls of those, who lived
> Without or praise or blame, with that ill band
> Of angels mix'd, who nor rebellious proved,
> Nor yet were true to God, but for themselves
> Were only. From his bounds Heaven drove them forth
> Not to impair his lustre; nor the depth
> Of Hell receives them, lest the accursed tribe
> Should glory thence with exultation vain."
> 
> I then: "Master! what doth aggrieve them thus,
> That they lament so loud?" He straight replied:
> "That will I tell thee briefly. These of death
> No hope may entertain: and their blind life
> So meanly passes, that all other lots
> They envy. Fame of them the world hath none,
> Nor suffers; Mercy and Justice scorn them both.
> Speak not of them, but look, and pass them by."
> 
> And I, who straightway look'd, beheld a flag,
> Which whirling ran around so rapidly,
> That it no pause obtain'd: and following came
> Such a long train of spirits, I should ne'er
> Have thought that death so many had despoil'd.
> 
> When some of these I recognized, I saw
> And knew the shade of him, who to base fear[2]
> Yielding, abjured his high estate. Forthwith
> I understood, for certain, this the tribe
> Of those ill spirits both to God displeasing
> And to His foes. These wretches, who ne'er lived,
> Went on in nakedness, and sorely stung
> By wasps and hornets, which bedew'd their cheeks
> With blood, that, mix'd with tears, dropp'd to their feet,
> And by disgustful worms was gather'd there.
> 
> [2: This is commonly understood of Celestine V, who abdicated the
> papal power in 1249. Venturi mentions a work written by Innocenzio Barcellini,
> of the Celestine order, and printed at Milan in 1701, in which an attempt is
> made to put a different interpretation on this passage. Lombardi would apply
> it to some one of Dante's fellow - citizens, who, refusing, through avarice or
> want of spirit, to support the party of the Bianchi at Florence, had been the
> main occasion of the miseries that befell them. But the testimony of Fazio
> degli Uberti, who lived so near the time of our author, seems almost decisive
> on this point. He expressly speaks of the Pope Celestine as being in Hell.]
> 
> Then looking further onwards, I beheld
> 
> A throng upon the shore of a great stream:
> Whereat I thus: "Sir! grant me now to know
> Whom here we view, and whence impell'd they seem
> So eager to pass o'er, as I discern
> Through the blear light?" He thus to me in few:
> "This shalt thou know, soon as our steps arrive
> Beside the woful tide of Acheron."
> 
> Then with eyes downward cast, and fill'd with shame,
> Fearing my words offensive to his ear,
> Till we had reach'd the river, I from speech
> Abstain'd. And lo! toward us in a bark
> Comes on an old man, hoary white with eld,
> Crying, "Woe to you, wicked spirits! hope not
> Ever to see the sky again. I come
> To take you to the other shore across,
> Into eternal darkness, there to dwell
> In fierce heat and in ice. And thou, who there
> Standest, live spirit! get thee hence, and leave
> These who are dead." But soon as he beheld
> I left them not, "By other way," said he,
> "By other haven shalt thou come to shore,
> Not by this passage; thee a nimbler boat
> Must carry." Then to him thus spake my guide:
> "Charon! thyself torment not: so 'tis will'd,
> Where will and power are one: ask thou no more."
> 
> Straightway in silence fell the shaggy cheeks
> Of him, the boatman o'er the livid lake,
> Around whose eyes glared wheeling flames. Meanwhile
> Those spirits, faint and naked, color changed,
> And gnash'd their teeth, soon as the cruel words
> They heard. God and their parents they blasphemed,
> The human kind, the place, the time, and seed,
> That did engender them and give them birth,
> 
> Then all together sorely wailing drew
> To the curst strand, that every man must pass
> Who fears not God. Charon, demoniac form,
> With eyes of burning coal, collects them all,
> Beckoning, and each, that lingers, with his oar
> Strikes. As fall off the light autumnal leaves
> One still another following, till the bough
> Strews all its honours on the earth beneath;
> E'en in like manner Adam's evil brood
> Cast themselves, one by one, down from the shore,
> Each at a beck, as falcon at his call.[3]
> one by one, down from the shore.]
> 
> [3: "As a falcon at his call." This is Vellutello's explanation, and
> seems preferable to that commonly given: "as a bird that is enticed to the
> cage by the call of another."]
> 
> Thus go they over through the umber'd wave;
> And ever they on the opposing bank
> Be landed, on this side another throng
> Still gathers. "Son," thus spake the courteous guide,
> "Those who die subject to the wrath of God
> All here together come from every clime
> And to o'erpass the river are not loth:
> For so Heaven's justice goads them on, that fear
> Is turn'd into desire. Hence ne'er hath past
> Good spirit. If of thee Charon complain,
> Now mayst thou know the import of his words."
> 
> This said, the gloomy region trembling shook
> So terribly, that yet with clammy dews
> Fear chills my brow. The sad earth gave a blast,
> That, lightening, shot forth a vermilion flame,
> Which all my senses conquer'd quite, and I
> Down dropp'd, as one with sudden slumber seized.
>
> — *Inferno Canto  3*