When Allah mixed my clay, He knew full well
My future acts, and could each one foretell; Without His will no act of mine was wrought;
Is it then just to punish me in hell?
This quatrain is in the Calcutta manuscript, but not the Bodleian.
Alternate translations:
What! out of senseless Nothing to provoke
A conscious Something to resent the yoke Of unpermitted Pleasure, under pain
Of Everlasting Penalties, if broke!
[tr. FitzGerald, 2nd ed. (1868), # 84; # 78 for 3rd, 4th, and 5th editions]
When God built up my body out of clay, he knew beforehand the fruit of all my deeds. It is not in defiance of his will that I a sinner have sinned. Why then for me does nether hell await?
[tr. McCarthy (1879), # 112]
When Allah mixed my clay, He knew full well
My future acts, and could each one foretell; 'Twas he who did my sins predestinate,
Yet thinks it just to punish me in hell.
[tr. Whinfield (1882), # 46]
'Twas Allah who engraved upon my Clay
The Laws I was thereafter to obey, And will He cast me into Raging Fire,
Because my Actions answer to His Sway?
[tr. Garner (1887), 4.5]
Almighty Potter, on whose wheel of blue
The world is fashioned and is broken too, Why to the race of men is heaven so dire?
In what, O wheel, have I offended you?
[tr. Le Gallienne (1897)]
God, when He mixed and moulded our being's clay,
Had e'en foreknowledge of all we should do and say; Without His order no sin of mine was aye;
Then why should He doom me to burn on the Judgment Day?
[tr. Payne (1898), # 190]
God, when he fashioned the clay of my body
Knew by my making what would come from it (Since) there is no sin of mine without his knowledge
Why should he seek to burn me at the day of resurrection?
[tr. Heron-Allen (1897), "# 26=85" Calcutta]
God, when he fashioned the clay of my body,
Knew by my making what would come of it; (Since) there is no sin of mine without his order
Why should he seek to burn me at the Day of Resurrection?
[tr. Heron-Allen (1899), #78a, Calcutta]
When God of our existence shaped the clay.
He knew our actions would be as His sway; Without His mandate was no sin of mine,
Then why doom me to burn on Judgment Day?
[tr. Thompson (1906), # 148]
When, bending low, God moulded me from clay,
Incontrovertibly my life was ordered:
Without his order I abstain from crime.
Why should I burn, then, on His Judgement Day?
[tr. Graves & Ali-Shah (1967), # 82]
Let Tom and Jane not think, because they see one man is picking pockets and another is offering all his goods to charity,
that they can judge their neighbors with God’s eyes:
for the pious man may fall, and the thief may rise.
[Non creda donna Berta e ser Martino, per vedere un furare, altro offerere, vederli dentro al consiglio divino;
ché quel può surgere, e quel può cadere.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 3 “Paradiso,” Canto 13, l. 139ff (13.139-142) [Thomas Aquinas] (1320) [tr. Ciardi (1970)]
(Source)
Berta and Martino were common names in Dante's era, and stand in for "ordinary people" (with a sarcastic hint of pretension by giving them minor titles). Most translators use a straight translation of the names to Bertha and Martin; others change them to something more modern to reflect their everyman status.
The pious man
May fail ; the Penitent, altho' by spoil He liv'd, may purchase Heav'n by arduous toil Ere death: it is not our's their fate to scan.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 24]
Seeing one steal,
Another bring, his offering to the priest, Let not Dame Bertha and Sir Martin thence Into heav’n’s counsels deem that they can pry:
For one of these may rise, the other fall.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Let not Nun Bertha and Saint Martin try, Seeing one offer, and another steal, The counsel of the heaven from that to tell:
For this may rise again, and that may fall.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Let not Dame Bertha nor Ser Martin think, Seeing one steal, another offering make, To see them in the arbitrament divine;
For one may rise, and fall the other may.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
Let not Dame Bertha and Master Martin deem, for seeing one steal, another make offerings, that they are seeing them within the Divine counsel; for that one may be exalted and this may fall.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Let not Dame Bertha nor Sir Martin deem, Because they see one rob, another pray, That they can pry within the will supreme;
For one can rise, and one can fall away.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Let not dame Bertha and master Martin, seeing one rob, and another make offering, believe to see them within the Divine counsel: for the one may rise and the other may fall.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Let not Dame Bertha or Squire Martin think, if they perceive one steal and one make offering, they therefore see them as in the divine counsel; for the one yet may rise and the other fall.
[tr. Wicksteed (1899)]
Let not Dame Bertha and Master Martin, when they see one rob and another make an offering, think they see them within the divine counsel; for the one may rise and the other fall.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Let no Dame Bertha or Sir Martin deem, Because they see one steal and one give all, They see as divine forethought seéth them;
For the one yet may rise and the other fall.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
Let Jack and Jill not think they see so far That, seeing this man pious, that a thief, They see them such as in God's sight they are,
For one may rise, the other come to grief.
[tr. Sayers/Reynolds (1962)]
Let not dame Bertha and squire Martin, if they see one steal and one make offering, believe to see them within the Divine Counsel: for the one may rise and the other may fall.
[tr. Singleton (1975)]
Let not every Bertha and Martin think Because they see one a thief, another respectable, That they see how they are in the eyes of God;
For one may rise, and the other one may fall.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
Let not Dame Bertha or Master Martin think that they have shared God’s Counsel when they see one rob and see another who donates:
the last may fall, the other may be saved.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1984)]
No Mr. or Miss Know-It-All should think, when they see one man steal and one give alms that they are seeing them through God's own eyes,
for one may yet rise up, the other fall.
[tr. Musa (1984)]
Let not dame Bertha and messer Martin believe, because they see one stealing, another offering, that they see them within God’s counsel, for that one can rise up, and this one can fall.
[tr. Durling (2011)]
Do not let Jack and Jill think, that if they see someone steal or another make offering they therefore see them as Divine Wisdom does, since the one may still rise, and the other fall.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
And so when Mrs Smith and Mr Jones see one man steal, another offer alms, don’t let them think they see this in God’s plan.
The thief may rise, the other take a fall.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]
Let not Dame Bertha and Master Martin, when they see one steal and another offer alms, think that they behold them with God's wisdom,
for the first may still rise up, the other fall.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
Let not Mrs. Judy and Mister John, Seeing one man steal but another before The altar with offerings, think one is sinful, The other's in Heaven -- for people rise and fall.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Men should not be too smug in their own reason; only a foolish man will walk his field and count his ears too early in the season;
for I have seen a briar through winter’s snows rattle its tough and menacing bare stems, and then, in season, open its pale rose.
and I have seen a ship cross all the main, true to its course and swift, and then go down just as it entered its home port again.
[Non sien le genti, ancor, troppo sicure a giudicar, sì come quei che stima le biade in campo pria che sien mature;
ch’i’ ho veduto tutto ’l verno prima lo prun mostrarsi rigido e feroce, poscia portar la rosa in su la cima;
e legno vidi già dritto e veloce correr lo mar per tutto suo cammino, perire al fine a l’intrar de la foce.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 3 “Paradiso,” Canto 13, l. 130ff (13.130-138) [Thomas Aquinas] (1320) [tr. Ciardi (1970)]
(Source)
Let none presume to fix his final state,
Or on such awful question hold debate; Oft have I seen the vernal stem beguile
The reaper's hand: and oft the rigid thorn,
That to the blast of winter waves forlorn, In June with rosy wreath is seen to smile.
Oft-times the bark that feuds with prosp'rous gale
Thro' the dividing waves with flowing sail. Yet sinks in view of port, the pious man
May fail.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 23-24]
Let not the people be too swift to judge,
As one who reckons on the blades in field,
Or ere the crop be ripe. For I have seen
The thorn frown rudely all the winter long
And after bear the rose upon its top;
And bark, that all the way across the sea
Ran straight and speedy, perish at the last,
E’en in the haven’s mouth.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Let not the people be too swift to judge, Like one who looks upon the springing blade, As if the harvest were already made.
For I have seen, the whole of winter long, The thorn look rude and rough, and bare at top, And after show the rose's reddening cup;
And seen the bark, already swift direct Across the sea, in all its journey's way, Perish at last when entering in the bay.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Nor yet shall people be too confident In judging, even as he is who doth count The corn in field or ever it be ripe.
For I have seen all winter long the thorn First show itself intractable and fierce, And after bear the rose upon its top;
And I have seen a ship direct and swift Run o'er the sea throughout its course entire, To perish at the harbour's mouth at last.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
Let not the folk be yet too secure at judging, like him who values the corn in a field before it is ripe; for I have seen all winter long the plum-tree at first show itself rigid and stern, and afterward bear blossoms on its top ; and I saw on a time a craft trim and swift to sail the sea for its whole course, perish at the last in the entering of the sound.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Let not the people think themselves elected To judge like one who counteth on the corn Within his field ere it be ripe.
Dejected I have beheld through winter time a thorn Its rude repelling aspect show, and bear After a rose, upon its top forlorn.
And I have seen a vessel swiftly steer Through all its voyage across the ocean stream. Perish at last, the harbour's entrance near.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Let not the people still be too secure in judgment, like him who reckons up the blades in the field ere they are ripe. For I have seen the briar first show itself stiff and wild all winter long, then bear the rose upon its top. And I have seen a bark ere now ran straight and swift across the sea through all its course, to perish at last at entrance of the harbor.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Let not folk yet be too secure in judgment, as who should count the ears upon the field ere they be ripe; for I have seen first all the winter through the thorn display itself hard and forbidding and then upon its summit bear the rose; and I have seen ere now a ship fare straight and swift over the sea through her entire course, and perish at the last, entering the harbour mouth.
[tr. Wicksteed (1899)]
So also let not the people be too sure in judging, like those that reckon the corn in the field before it is ripe. For I have seen the briar first show harsh and rigid all through the winter and later bear the rose upon its top, and once I saw a ship that ran straight and swift over the sea through all its course perish at the last entering the harbour.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Let not the people be too self-assured In judging early, as who should count the rows Of green blades in the field ere they matured.
For I have seen how first the wild-brier shows Her sprays, all winter through, thorny and stark, And then upon the topmost bears the rose;
And I have seen ere now a speeding barque Run all her sea-course with unswerving stem And close on harbour go down to the dark.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
No one should ever be too self-assured In judgement, like a farmer reckoning His gains before the corn-crop is matured,
For I have seen the briar, a prickly thing And tough the winter through, and on its tip Bearing the very rose at close of spring;
And once I saw, her whole long ocean trip Safe-done, a vessel wrecked upon the bar, And down she went, that swift and stately ship.
[tr. Sayers/Reynolds (1962)]
Moreover, let not folk be too secure in judgment, like one who should count the ears in the field before they are ripe; for I have seen first, all winter through, the thorn display itself hard and stiff, and then upon its summit bear the rose. And I have seen ere now a ship fare straight and swift over the sea through all her course, and perish at the last as she entered the harbor.
[tr. Singleton (1975)]
Let people not be too sure of themselves And their judgement, like someone who reckons The field of corn before the ears are ripe:
For I have seen all the winter through The thorn first show itself unyielding, wild, And after all carry a rose on top;
And I have seen a ship sail straight and swiftly Over the sea for the whole of its voyage Yet perish at last at the harbour mouth.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
So too, let men not be too confident in judging -- witness those who, in the field, would count the ears before the corn is ripe;
for I have seen, all winter through, the brier display itself a stiff and obstinate, and later, on its summit, bear the rose;
and once I saw a ship sail straight and swift through all its voyaging across the sea, then perish at the end, at harbor entry.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1984)]
Nor should one be too quick to trust his judgment; be not like him who walks his field and counts the ears of corn before the time is ripe,
for I have seen brier all winter long showing its rough and prickly stem, and then eventually produce a lovely rose,
and I have seen a ship sail straight and swift over the sea through all its course, and then about to enter in the harbor, sink.
[tr. Musa (1984)]
And let not people be too sure to judge, like one who appraises the oats in the field before they are ripe: for I have seen all the previous winter long the thornbush appear rigid and and fierce, but later bear the rose upon its tip, and I have seen a ship run straight and swift across the sea for all in its course, only to perish at last when entering the port.
[tr. Durling (2011)]
Do not let people be too secure in their judgements, like those who count the ears of corn in the field before the crop ripens, since I have seen, all winter long, the thorn display itself, sharp and forbidding, and then on its summit bear the rose; and before now I have seen a ship run straight and sure over the sea for her entire course, and sink in the end, entering the harbour mouth.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
And then again, don't let folk be too sure in passing judgement as do those who price the harvest in the field before it's ripe.
For I have seen, at first, all winter through a thorn bush shows itself as stark and fierce, which after bears a rose upon its height.
And I have seen a keel, steered swift and well, speed over oceans all its voyage through, then perish at the entrance to the dock.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]
Let the people, then, not be too certain in their judgments, like those that harvest in their minds corn still in the field before it ripens.
For I have seen the briar first look dry and thorny right through all the winter's cold, then later wear the bloom of roses at its tip,
and once I saw a ship, which had sailed straight and swift upon the sea through all its voyage, sinking at the end as it made its way to port.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
But ordinary people, too, must guard Their judgment, not like those who count up ears Of corn before the field is ripe. For I
Have seen, all winter through, bushes of thorn Covered with small but savage knives, hard And fierce, but now comes summer, and they they're roses
All over. And I have seen a ship sail far, Straight and swift, and on course, but once in the harbor Down she goes, sinking like a stone.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
EVANGELIST, n. A bearer of good tidings, particularly (in a religious sense) such as assure us of our own salvation, and the damnation of our neighbors.
Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914?) American writer and journalist
“Evangelist,” The Cynic’s Word Book (1906)
(Source)
Included in The Devil's Dictionary (1911). Originally published in the "Devil's Dictionary" column in the San Francisco Wasp (1884-05-24).
The original entry in the Waspconcluded: “The evangelists proper are Matthew, Mark, Luke and John; the evangelists improper are the parsons."
Many in life esteem themselves great men
who then will wallow here like pigs in mud,
leaving behind them their repulsive fame.
[Quanti si tegnon or là sù gran regi
che qui staranno come porci in brago,
di sé lasciando orribili dispregi!]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 8, l. 49ff (8.49) [Virgil] (1309) [tr. Musa (1971)]
(Source)
How many Kings were thought of high renown,
Who wallow in this marsh, like Hogs in mire,
Leaving their horrid characters behind!
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 41ff]
There many a regal Chief of ancient note,
Wallowing thro' mire obscene lament their lot,
In ruin roll'd, like brethren of the sty.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 9]
There above
How many now hold themselves mighty kings
Who here like swine shall wallow in the mire,
Leaving behind them horrible dispraise!
[tr. Cary (1814)]
How many kings now there set up their horn,
That here shall wallow as in filth the swine,
And leave their names to execrable scorn!
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
How many up there now think themselves great kings, that shall lie here like swine in mire, leaving behind them horrible reproaches!
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
How many mighty kings are now above,
Shall one day stand like hogs within their stye,
Disparaging their memory terribly.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Above how many live as mighty kings
Who here like swine shall grovel in the mire,
Leaving behind them shame and foul contempt!
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
How many are esteemed great kings up there,
Who here shall be like unto swine in mire,
Leaving behind them horrible dispraises!
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
How many now hold themselves great kings up there who shall stand here like swine in the slush, leaving horrible dispraise of themselves!
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Many great kings who now lift up their horns
Will wallow here like swine in filthy swill,
Leaving their memories to most horrible scorns.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
How many now up there are held great kings who shall stand here like swine in mire, leaving of themselves horrible dispraises.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
How many are there that bear themselves above as mighty kings, that here shall stand like swine in slush, leaving behind them loathing and condemnation!
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
How many count themselves up there great princes,
Who here like hogs in mire shall have their station,
Leaving behind them horrible reproaches!
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
How many above there now account themselves great kings who shall lie here like swine in the mire, leaving of themselves horrible dispraises!
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
How many above there deem themselves great kings
Now, who shall lie wallowing in mire like swine,
Leaving a name that with dishonor rings!
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
Many who strut like kings up there are such
As here shall wallow hog-like in the mud,
Leaving behind nothing but foul reproach.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
How many living now, chancellors of wrath,
shall come to lie here yet in this pigmire,
leaving a curse to be their aftermath!
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
How many up there now account themselves great kings, that here shall lie like swine in mire, leaving behind them horrible dispraises.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
How many up above now count themselves
great kings, who'll wallow here like pigs in slime,
leaving behind foul memories of crimes!
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
How many, up there, think themselves great kings
Who here will wallow in the mire like pigs,
Leaving behind them nothing but infamous horrors.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
In the world above, how many a self-deceiver
Now counting himself a mighty king will sprawl
Swinelike amid the mire when life is over,
Leaving behind a name that men revile.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
How many consider themselves great kings up
above, who here will be like pigs in the mire, leaving
behind horrible dispraise of themselves!
[tr. Durling (1996)]
How many up there think themselves mighty kings, that will lie here like pigs in mire, leaving behind them dire condemnation!
[tr. Kline (2002)]
How many, in the world above, pose there
as kings but here will like like pigs in much,
leaving behind them horrible dispraise.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
How many now above who think themselves
great kings will lie here in the mud, like swine,
leaving behind nothing but ill repute!
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
How many think themselves the greatest of kings,
But here will lie around like pigs in slime,
Remembered for having indulged in horrible things!
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
And there are others up there of the same
Persuasion they are kings. They, too, will be
Pigs in this filthy sty, and leave behind
Nothing but curses rained upon the hole
Their swelled heads filled.
[tr. James (2013), l. 47ff]
“Master,” said I, “this woe — Will it grow less, or still more fiercely burning With the Great Sentence, or remain just so?”
“Go to,” said he, “hast thou forgot they learning, Which hath it: The more perfect, the more keen, Whether for pleasure’s or for pain’s discerning?
Though true perfection never can be seen In these damned souls, they’ll be more near complete After the Judgement than they yet have been.”
[Per ch’io dissi: “Maestro, esti tormenti crescerann’ei dopo la gran sentenza, o fier minori, o saran sì cocenti?”.
Ed elli a me: “Ritorna a tua scïenza, che vuol, quanto la cosa è più perfetta, più senta il bene, e così la doglienza.
Tutto che questa gente maladetta in vera perfezion già mai non vada, di là più che di qua essere aspetta”.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 6, l. 103ff (6.103-111) (1309) [tr. Sayers (1949)]
(Source)
Virgil informs Dante that, according to the "science" of Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas, the souls of the dead, reunited with their bodies at the Last Judgment, will be more "perfect," and thus will more perfectly feel the joy of Heaven, or the torments of Hell.
Master, I said; When the grand Sentence 's pass'd,
Will an increase of punishment ensue,
Or will't continue thus, or less become.
Return to your Philosophy, he said,
By which you're taught, that the more perfect are
More sensible of good, as well as ill.
And this unhappy Crew expect not e'er
That they at true perfection shall arrive;
But that their Suff'rings will be more severe
After the dreadful Sentence than before.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 98ff]
Then I, "Shall equal plagues the damn'd await; Shall Hell increase her torments, or abate, When the last change their final sentence brings?"
"Let Science solve the doubt," the Bard rejoin'd, "The body married to th' immortal mind, Or higher transport feels, or fiercer woe:
Then th' ignoble brethren of the sty, When the last clarion shakes the faulted sky, Shall feel their pains sublim'd, their tortures grow."
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 9-10]
For thus I question’d: “Shall these tortures, Sir! When the great sentence passes, be increas’d, Or mitigated, or as now severe?”
He then: “Consult thy knowledge; that decides That as each thing to more perfection grows, It feels more sensibly both good and pain.
Though ne’er to true perfection may arrive This race accurs’d, yet nearer then than now They shall approach it.”
[tr. Cary (1814)]
For thus I asked him: "Shall these torments rage, The judgment past, with fury more intense, Or such as now, or of their heat assuage?"
Who answered: "Get thee to thy wisdom, whence 'Tis taught, the creature to perfection nigher Of good and eke of ill hath keener sense.
Albeit this cursed race may ne'er aspire The true perfection of their kind to feel, Yet lower scale expect they not, but higher."
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Wherefore I said: "Master, shall these torments increase after the great Sentence, or grow less, or remain as burning?" And he to me: "Return to they science, which has it, that the more a thing is perfect, the more it feels pleasure and likewise pain. Though these accursed people never attain to true perfection, yet they [look to] be nearer it after than before."
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
It was the reason why I said, "Master! When the grand sentence is past, is the pain Increased or lessened, or do these remain?"
And he said to me, "What doth thy science teach? Whatever thing is perfect's more endued To feel the evil, to perceive the good:
To perfect misery will not they attain, The accursed race who suffer in this sphere, But nearer then than now they will appear."
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
And then I said -- "These torments, master, say, Will they increase after the awful doom, Or become less? Will they be sharp as now?"
Then he to me -- "Unto thy science turn, Which teaches, the more perfect be the thing, It knows the good, it feels the suffering more.
Although this multitude accurs'd may not Unto the true perfection ever come, After, rather than now, they look for it."
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
Wherefore I said: "Master, these torments here, Will they increase after the mighty sentence, Or lesser be, or will they be as burning?"
And he to me: "Return unto thy science, Which wills, that as the thing more perfect is, The more it feels of pleasure and of pain.
Albeit that this people maledict To true perfection never can attain, Hereafter more than now they look to be."
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
Wherefore I said: "Master, these torments, will they increase after the great sentence, or become less, or be as scorching?" And he to me: "Return to thy science, which holds, in proportion as the thing is more perfect, it is more conscious of the good, and so of suffering. Albeit this accursed folk may never go on to true perfection, it expects to be more on the further than on the hither side."
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Wherefore I said; "O master, I would know Whether these torments after the great day Will lessen, keep as now, or fiercer grow?"
And he to me: "Thy science here essay, Which wills that more a thing is perfect nursed, The more it feels both good and evil sway.
And though in truth this people, all accursed, With true perfection never can be dight, Then, more than now, it looks to feel the worst."
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Wherefore I said, “Master, these torments will they increase after the great sentence, or will they become less, or will they be just as burning?” And he to me, “Return to thy science, which declares that the more perfect a thing is the more it feels the good, and so the pain. Though this accursed people never can attain to true perfection, it expects thereafter to be more than now.”
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Wherefore I said: "Master, these tortures, will they increase when the great doom is spoken, or will they lessen, or continue as galling as before?" And he made answer to me: "Go back upon the science thou hast read, which would have us believe that the more a thing is perfect, the more it feeleth pleasure, and likewise pain. Though these cursed souls may never come to true perfection, yet do they hope thereafter to attain it more than now."
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
And thereupon I said: "Master, these torments, Will they increase after the last great sentence, Or lesser grow, or will they be as poignant?"
And he to me : "Return unto thy science, Which hath it that, the more a thing is perfect, More hath it sense of good, and so of dolour.
So, notwithstanding that this folk accursed Never advances unto true perfection, Yet more on that side than on this it looks for."
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
I said therefore: "Master, will these torments increase after the great judgment, or become less, or continue as fierce as now?" And he answered me, "Go back to thy science, which requires that in the measure of a creature's perfection it feels more both of pleasure and of pain. Although these people who are accursed never come to true perfection, they look to be completer then than now."
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Wherefore I said: "Master, these pangs of woe -- Shall they be increased after the great Assize Or stay scorching as now, or lesser grow?"
And he: "Turn to thy science and be wise. The more a thing perfected is, the more it feels bliss, and in pain the sharper sighs.
Although the state of these accurst at core Never indeed in true perfection ends, They look then to be nearer than before."
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
"Master," I said, "when the great clarion fades
into the voice of thundering Omniscience, what of these agonies? Will they be the same, or more, or less, after the final sentence?"
And he to me: "Look to your science again where it is written: the more a thing is perfect the more it feels of pleasure and of pain.
As for these souls, though they can never soar to true perfection, still in the new time they will be nearer than they were before.
[tr. Ciardi (1954), l. 99ff]
Wherefore I said, "Master, these torments, will they increase after the great Judgment, or will they grow less, or will they be just as burning as now?" And he to me, "Return to your science, which has it that the more a thing is perfect, the more it feels the good, and so the pain. Although this accursed folk can never come to true perfection, yet they look to be nearer it then than now."
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
I said, "Master, will these torments be increased, or lessened, on the final Judgment Day, or will the pain be just the same as now?"
And he: "Remember your philosophy: the closer a thing comes to its perfection more keen will be its pleasure or its pain.
Although this cursèd race of punished souls shall never know the joy of true perfection, more perfect will their pain be then than now."
[tr. Musa (1971)]
At which I said: "And after the great sentence -- o master -- will these torments grow, or else be less, or will they be just as intense?"
And he to me: "Remember now your science, which said that when a thing has more perfection, so much the great is its pain or pleasure.
Though these accursed sinners never shall attain the true perfection, yet they can expect to be more perfect then than now."
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
So I said to him: "Master, will these torments Grow greater still after the great sentence, Will they be less, or burn as they burn now?"
His answer to me was: "Go back to your science, Which teaches that the more perfect a thing is, The more it feels pleasure, and pain as well.
Although these people, because they are accursed, Will never reach the point of true perfection, They expect to approach it more nearly afterwards."
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
"Master, these torments -- tell me, will they increase After the Judgment, or lessen, or merely endure, Burning as much as now?" He said, "In this,
Go back to your science, which teaches that the more A creature is perfect, the more it perceives the good -- and likewise, pain. The accursed people here
Can never come to true perfection; instead They can expect to come closer then than now."
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 94ff]
So I said: "Master, these torments, will they grow after the great Judgment, or will they be less, or equally hot?" And he to me: "Return to your philosophy, which teaches that the more perfect a thing is, the more it feels what is good, and the same for pain. Even though these cursed people will never enter into true perfection, on that side they can expect to have more being than on this."
[tr. Durling (1996)]
Of this I asked: "Master, will these torments increase, after the great judgement, or lessen, or stay as fierce?" And he to me: "Remember your science, that says, that the more perfect a thing is, the more it feels pleasure and pain. Though these accursed ones will never achieve true perfection, they will be nearer to it after, than before."
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Concerning which, "These torments, sir," I said, "when judgement has been finally proclaimed -- will these increase or simmer just the same?"
"Return," he said, "to your first principles: when anything (these state) becomes more perfect, then all the more it feels both good and pain.
Albeit these accursed men will not achieve perfection full and true, they still, beyond that Day, will come to sharper life."
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
"Master," I asked, "after the great Judgment will these torments be greater, less, or will they stay as harsh as they are now?"
And he replied: "Return to your science, which has it that, in measure of a thing's perfection, it feels both more of pleasure and of pain.
Although these accursèd people will never come to true perfection, they will be nearer it than they are now."
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
And I asked: "Master these punishments, Will they grow, after the great and Final Judgment, Or lesson, or burn exactly as we've seen them?"
He answered: Go back to the rules of science, which you know Declare perfection will grow more perfect with time, And as it is in Heaven, so too below.
Although these wicked souls will never climb To Heaven, I think they may come closer, perhaps, Than they are now, in the state and place we find them."
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Regarding that subject, I asked, "After the Final Judgment, Will the torture increase, become somewhat less, Or remain at the same level of intensity?"
He said, "Go back to your science. Remember Aristotle and Aquinas. The closer a creature is to perfection, The more it feels, both pleasure and pain.
This ruined crowd can't achieve authentic perfection But they can expect to get closer to it than they are. Which means more pain for the truly damned.
[tr. Bang (2012)]
"After the end,
What starts?" I asked. "Will all those who have earned
Their place down here feel less pain from the Day
Of Judgement on, or just the same, or more?"
And he to me: "What does your science say?
The more a thing's more perfect than before
The more it takes delight or feel despair?
Although these damned will never know a true
Perfection, they;ll be closer to it there,
Beyond that Day. So: much more than they do
Must be the answer to your question."
[tr. James (2013)]
“He will not wake again,” my leader said, “From this time till there sounds the trump of doom, When will descend their hostile power in dread;
Each one will seek again his wretched tomb, Will take again his former flesh and face. Will hear His words eternally reboom.”
[E ’l duca disse a me: “Più non si desta di qua dal suon de l’angelica tromba, quando verrà la nimica podesta:
ciascun rivederà la trista tomba, ripiglierà sua carne e sua figura, udirà quel ch’in etterno rimbomba”.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 6, l. 94ff (6.94-99) (1309) [tr. Minchin (1885)]
(Source)
Virgil explaining to Dante that, on the Judgment Day, the spirits in Heaven and Hell will be returned to Earth and their bodies (see 1 Cor. 15:51-38), and then face eternal blessing or damnation from Christ. (Source (Italian)). Alternate translations:
To me my Leader: These no more will rise
Before the sound of the angelic Trump.
When they the pow'rful Enemy will see
Of wicked act, then ev'ry one recourse
Will have unto their melancholy place
Or Sepulture, will reassume their flesh
And form, and their eternal Judgment hear.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 88ff]
"Those," cried the Bard, "shall slumber out their fate, 'Till, from the confines of the heav'nly state, The Hierarch's trump shall thunder thro' the deep:
Then cloath'd again in vests of humble clay, The hideous band shall rise upon the day, And down return, their endless doom to weep."
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 18]
When thus my guide: “No more his bed he leaves, Ere the last angel-trumpet blow. The Power Adverse to these shall then in glory come,
Each one forthwith to his sad tomb repair, Resume his fleshly vesture and his form, And hear the eternal doom re-echoing rend
The vault.”
[tr. Cary (1814)]
"Henceforth he wakes mo more," the master said, "Until the angelic trumpet burst the gloom; When He shall come, the avenging Power they dread,
These shall revisit each his joyless tomb, Put on his flesh and form, and hear the sound That thunders through eternity his doom."
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
And my Guide said to me: "He wakes no more until the angel's trumpet sounds; when the adverse Power shall come, each shall revisit his sad grave; shall resume his flesh and form; shall hear that which resounds to all eternity."
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
The leader said, "No more will he awake From hence, till the angelic trumpet break His sleep, when comes their inimical power.
Each will revisit then his mournful tomb, Self reinvest, in form of flesh be found, Hear of eternity the thunder-sound."
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
And my guide said to me -- "He wakes no more, Till at the sound of the angelic trump, When the Great Pow'r Antagonist shall come.
Then each shall find again his gloomy tomb, Each shall resume his flesh and earhtly form, Each hear what through eternity shall peal."
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
And the Guide said to me: "He wakes no more This side the sound of the angelic trumpet; When shall approach the hostile Potentate.
Each one shall find again his dismal tomb, Shall reassume his flesh and his own figure, Shall hear what through eternity re-echoes."
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
And my Leader said to me, "He rises up no more on this side the sound of the angelic trump. When the power that is their foe shall come, each will find again his sorry tomb, will take again his flesh and his own shape, will hear that which thunders in eternity."
[tr. Butler (1885)]
And the Leader said to me, “He wakes no more this side the sound of the angelic trump. When the hostile Sovereign shall come, each one will find again his dismal tomb, will take again his flesh and his shape, will hear that which through eternity reechoes.”
[tr. Norton (1892)]
And my guide said to me: "He waketh no more until the sounding of the archangel's trumpet. When the enemy shall come in his power, each will find again his joyless sepulchre, will take unto himself again his flesh and form, and hear the sound whose echoes ring throughout eternity."
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
And said to me my guide: "No more he wakens On this side of the sound of the trump angelic, What time the hostile magistrate comes hither:
Each one shall find again his tomb of sorrow; Each shall take up again his flesh and features; Shall hear what doom resounds for everlasting."
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
And my Leader said to me: "He wakes no more till the osunding of the angel's trumpet, when the adverse Judge shall come; each shall find again the sad tomb and take again his flesh and form and hear that which echoes in eternity."
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
My Guide spoke to me: "No more from that bed he wakes until the angel trumpet sounds When the stern Power shall make his advent dread.
They shall revisit then their sad grave-mounds, And each his flesh and his own shape resume, And hear what through eternity resounds."
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
Then spake my guide: "He'll rouse no more," he said, "'Till the last loud angelic trumpet's sounding; For when the Enemy Power shall come arrayed
Each soul shall seek its own grave's mournful mounding, Put on once more its earthly flesh and feature, And hear the Doom eternally redounding."
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
And my Guide to me: "He will not wake again until the angel trumpet sounds the day on which the host shall come to judge all men.
Then shall each soul before the seat of Mercy return to its sad grave and flesh and form to hear the edict of Eternity."
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
And my leader said to me, "He wakes no more until the angel's trumpet sounds and the hostile Power comes, when each shall find again his dismal tomb and take again his flesh and form, and hear that which resounds to all eternity."
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
My guide then said to me: "He'll wake no more until the day the angel's trumpet blows, when the unfriendly Judge shall come down here;
each soul shall find again his wretched tomb, assume his flesh and take his human shape, and hear his fate resound eternally."
[tr. Musa (1971)]
And my guide said to me: "He'll rise no more until the blast of the angelic trumpet upon the coming of the hostile Judge:
each one shall see his sorry tomb again and once again take on his flesh and form, and hear what shall resound eternally."
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
My guide said to me: "He will not wake again Until he hears the sound of the angel's trumpet At the arrival of the enemy power:
Each one will see once more his bitter grave, Will put on once again his flesh and shape, Will hear what echoes through eternity."
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
"He will not wake again," my master said, "Until the angel's conclusive trumpet sounds And the hostile Power comes -- and the waiting dead
Wake to go searching for their unhappy tombs: And resume again the form and flesh they had, And hear that which eternally resounds.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
And my leader said to me: "Never again will he arise this side of the angelic trumpet, when he will see the enemy governor: each will see again his sad tomb, will take again his flesh and his shape, will hear what resounds eternally."
[tr. Durling (1996)]
My leader said, "He sleeps again, and will Until angelic trumpet rouses all, When their Great Foe last judgment shall fulfill:
Each will find their sorry burial ground, Will take again their bodies, flesh and form, Then hear His doom eternally resound.
[tr. Ericsson (2001)]
And my guide said to me: "He will not stir further, until the angelic trumpet sounds, when the Power opposing evil will come: each will revisit his sad grave, resume his flesh and form, and hear what will resound through eternity."
[tr. Kline (2002)]
"He'll wake no more until the angel's trump," my master said. "When comes the Potentate with all due panoply and legal pomp,
each soul will be required to gravitate back to its grave, to take no fl>esh and blood again and hear its doom reverberate."
[tr. Carson (2002)]
My leader now addressed me: "He'll not stir until the trumpets of the angels sound, at which his enemy, True Power, will come.
Then each will see once more his own sad tomb, and each, once more, assume its flesh and figure, each hear the rumbling thunder roll for ever."
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
And my leader said: "He wakes no more until angelic trumpets sound the advent of the hostile Power
Then each shall find again his miserable tomb, shall take again his flesh and form, and hear the judgment that eternally resounds."
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
Then my leader told me: "He will not wake Again until the angel blows his horn And He who hates evil comes, and everyone takes
The shape and flesh with which we men are born, Drawing it back from the wretched tomb where it lies, And all will hear what will echo forever more."
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Virgil said, "He won't wake again Until an angel with a trumpet signals the adversarial Judge Has arrived and the tribunal is about to begin.
At that point, each wil find him- or herself in a dismal cell In human form and human flesh, Ears tuned to a decree that will last for eternity.
[tr. Bang (2012)]
My Leader said: "Until the air is rent
By angel's trumpet -- and the dead shall find
Their graves take fleshly form, and hear resound
The internal echoes, as shall be decreed
By the Last Judge -- this one, held by his ground,
Will never wake up again. Shall we proceed?"
[tr. James (2013), l. 100ff]
Gustave Dore – Divine Comedy, Plate 14, Inferno, Canto 5 “The infernal hurricane that never rests” (1857)
And this, I learned, was the never ending flight of those who sinned in the flesh, the carnal and lusty who betrayed reason to their appetite.
As the wings of wintering starlings bear them on in their great wheeling flights, just so the blast wherries these evil souls through time foregone.
Here, there, up, down, they whirl, and whirling, strain with never a hope of hope to comfort them, not of release, but even of less pain.
[Intesi ch’a così fatto tormento enno dannati i peccator carnali, che la ragion sommettono al talento.
E come li stornei ne portan l’ali nel freddo tempo, a schiera larga e piena, così quel fiato li spiriti mali
di qua, di là, di giù, di sù li mena; nulla speranza li conforta mai, non che di posa, ma di minor pena.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 5, l. 37ff (5.37-45) (1309) [tr. Ciardi (1954)]
(Source)
Those who such torments suffered, I learnt, Were condemn'd to them for their carnal Sins, Their reason by their Passion being subdued.
And as the Birds, who at the first approach Of cold, take wing, and gather in thick clouds, So does the Storm these wretched Spirits drive,
From 'bove, below, and ev'ry side around. They have no hope of ever being releas'd: And e'en of lighter punishments despair.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 32ff]
These were the hapless slaves of lawless love,
Soft pleasure's vot'ries in the world above,
Who the still voice of reason held in scorn;
And as a flight of starlings wing their way,
Riding the wintry blast in long array, The phantoms fleet, in airy tumult borne.
Aloft we saw the moody revel ride,
Then, in long eddies, like the swallowing tide,
With its full freight the hurricane descends:
Around the sinner sweep, above, below,
Nor respite of their cares rest they, nor refuge know From the resistless storm that never ends.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 8-9]
I understood that to this torment sad The carnal sinners are condemn'd, in whom Reason by lust is sway'd. As in large troops
And multitudinous, when winter reigns, The starlings on their wings are borne abroad; So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls.
On this side and on that, above, below, It drives them: hope of rest to solace them Is none, nor e'en of milder pang.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Then understood I of that woe's intent, How framed with sinners in the flesh to deal Who to their passion have their reason bent.
And like as starlings in their aery wheel Some winter's day float wide upon the wing. So doth those guilty souls the whirlwind's reel
Now up, now down, now this, now that way fling; Nor aught to comfort them may soothing hope. If not of rest, of milder sufferance bring.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
I learnt that to such torment [are] doomed the carnal sinners, who subject reason to lust. And as their wings bear along the starlings, at the cold season, in large and crowded troop: so that blast, the evil spirits; hither, thither, down, up, it leads them. No hope ever comforts them, not of rest, but even of less pain.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Of torment such as this, I understood, Were carnal sinners made to drink their fill, Their reason who subject unto their will.
And as the starlings spread their wings aloft In the cold time, in long and crowded flock, Such are the evil spirits to the shock:
From here to there, from low to high, it leads; Nor hope nor comfort in their breast remain, Not of a pause, but even of lesser pain.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Then I perceiv'd this torment was to those Whose condemnation was for carnal sins, Who made their reason subject to their lusts.
As starlings in their wingèd strength are borne In winter season, flocking wide and deep; So are the wicked spirits by this blast
Upwards and downwards, hither, thither swept, Having to comfort them of no hope of rest From their great woe, nor e'en of lesser pain.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
I understood that unto such a torment The carnal malefactors were condemned, Who reason subjugate to appetite.
And as the wings of starlings bear them on In the cold season in large band and full, So doth that blast the spirits maledict;
It hither, thither, downward, upward, drives them; No hope doth comfort them forevermore, Not of repose, but even of lesser pain.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
I was aware that to a torment thus fashioned are condemned the carnal sinners who made their reason subject to their inclination. And as their wings bear away the starlings in the cold season, in a broad and thick flock, so did that blast the evil spirits. On this side, on that, up and down it sways them; no hope ever comforts them, I say not of rest, but of a lesser penalty.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Then did I understand that this was pain Reserved for those who sin in carnal things, And over reason their desires maintain.
And, like the summer starlings, stretch their wings In the cold time, in large and ample train, So that wild wind those evil spirits swings
Hither and thither, up and down again; No hope can comfort them of far repose For evermore, nor even of lesser pain.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
I understood that to such torment are condemned the carnal sinners who subject reason to appetite. And as their wings bear along the starlings in the cold season in a troop large and full, so that blast the evil spirits; hither, thither, down, up it carries them; no hope ever comforts them, not of repose, but even of less pain.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
I came to know that to tortures of such a kind were doomed sinners in the flesh, who make their better judg- ment the thrall of lust. And as in winter time starlings are borne on their wings, in large and crowded flock; even so beareth this blast these sinful spirits. Hither and thither, high and low, it whirleth them, nor ever cometh hope of any rest to cheer them, nor even of lesser punishment.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
I understood that unto such like torment Are damned eternally the carnal sinners. Who make their reason subject to their passions.
And as their pinions bear along the starlings, In the chill time, in wide and full battahon, In such wise doth that blast the wicked spirits:
Hither and thither, up and down, it bears them; Nor any hope encourages them ever. Not to say hope of rest, but of less torment.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
I learned that to such torment are condemned the carnal sinners who subject reason to desire. As in the cold season their wings bear the starlings along in a broad, dense flock, so does that blast the wicked spirits. Hither, thither, downward, upward, it drives them; no hope ever comforts them, not to say of rest, but of less pain.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
I learnt that in such restless violence blown This punishment the carnal sinners share Whose reason by desire was over thrown.
And as their beating wings the starlings bear At the cold season, in broad, flocking flight, So those corrupted spirits were rapt in air
To and fro, down, up, driven in helpless plight Comforted by no hope ever to lie At rest, nor even to bear a pain more light.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
Into this torment carnal sinners are thrust, So I was told -- the sinners who make their reason Bond thrall under the yoke of their lust.
Like as the starlings wheel in the wintry season In wide and clustering flocks wing-borne, wind-borne, Even so they go, the souls who did this treason,
Hither and thither, and up and down, outworn, Hopeless of any rest -- rest, did I say? Of the least minishing of their pangs forlorn.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
I learned that to such torment are condemned the carnal sinners, who subject reason to desire. And as their wings bear the starlings along in the cold season, in wide, dense flocks, so does that blast the sinful spirits; hither, thither, downward, upward, it drives them. No hope of less pain, not to say of rest, ever comforts them.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
I learned that to this place of punishment all those who sin in lust have been condemned, those who make reason slave to appetite;
and as the wings of starlings in the winter bear them along in wide-spread crowded flocks, so does that wind propel the evil spirits:
here, then there, and up and down, it sweeps them forever, without hope to comfort them (hope, not of taking rest, but of suffering less).
[tr. Musa (1971)]
I learned that those who undergo this torment are damned because they sinned within the flesh, subjecting reason to the rule of lust.
And as, in the cold season, starlings' wings bear them along in broad and crowded ranks, so does that blast bear on the guilty spirits:
now here, now there, now down, now up, it drives them. There is no hope that ever comforts them -- no hope for rest and none for lesser pain.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
I understood it is to this torment That are condemned those who sin in the flesh, And let their reason give way to their wishes.
And, as starlings are carried on their wings In the cold weather, in a vast wavering troop, So that breath carries the unfortunate spirits:
It drives them here and there, now down, now up; There is no hope ever to comfort them; They cannot stop, or ever suffer less pain.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
I learned They suffer here who sinned in carnal things -- Their reason mastered by desire, suborned.
As winter starlings ride on their wings Form crowded flocks, so spirits dip and veer Foundering in the wind's rough buffetings,
Upward or downward, driven here and there With never ease from pain nor hope of rest.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 34ff]
I understood that to this torment were damned the carnal sinners, who subject their reason to their lust. nd as their wings carry off the starlings in the cold season, in large, full flocks, so does that breath carry the evil spirits here, there, down, up; no hope ever comforts them, not of lessened suffering, much less of rest.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
I learnt that the carnal sinners are condemned to these torments, they who subject their reason to their lust. And, as their wings carry the starlings, in a vast, crowded flock, in the cold season, so that wind carries the wicked spirits, and leads them here and there, and up and down. No hope of rest, or even lesser torment, comforts them.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
And then I learned such torments are incurred by those who like to practice carnal sin, when reason is by furtive lust ensnared.
As starlings, when the evenings draw in, assemble in tremendous seething flocks, so are those dark souls gathered by the wind,
and hurtled to and fro in random flecks devoid of hope of rest, or rest from pain to which they are eternally affixed.
[tr. Carson (2002)]
Caught in this torment, as I understood, were those who -- here condemned for carnal sin -- made reason bow to their instinctual bent.
As starlings on the wing in winter chills are borne along in wide and teeming flocks, so on these breathing gusts the evil souls.
This way and that and up and down they're borne. Here is no hope of any comfort ever, neither of respite nor of lesser pain.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
I understood that to such torment the carnal sinners are condemned, they who make reason subject to desire.
As, in cold weather, the wings of starlings bear them up in wide, dense flocks, so does that blast propel the wicked spirits.
Here and there, down and up, it drives them. Never are they comforted by hope of rest or even lesser punishment.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
I learned that sinners blown, tormented in bursting Gales, are those condemned by acts of lust, Which melt our reason down in desire and thirst.
Just as their wings, stretched wide, hold starlings up In great, wide flocks fleeing freezing weather, So those windstorms force the wicked souls
This way, that way, down and up together. No hope can ever ease their pain, giver comfort; They never rest, never suffer less.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
I learned this special kind of torment is reserved For those whose ravenous appetite for carnal knowledge Allowed lust to triumph over reason.
Like wings carry starlings off in crowded flocks When the end of October hints at winter, so the wind Carried these sinners: up, down, and at an angle.
In broad and compact masses. What is there to comfort them? Neither more peace Nor less pain, although they beg for both.
[tr. Bang (2012)]
I understood this was the punishment
For carnal sinners, who let appetite
Rule reason, and who, once drawn, are now sent --
Like winter starlings by their wings in flight --
Across the bleak sky in a broad, thick flock:
Here, there, now up, now down, the winds dictate
Their track. Small hope of pausing to take stock
Of whether anguish might not soon abate
At least a little, and no hope at all
Of peace.
[tr. James (2013), l. 47ff]
Now of a sudden Aeneas looked and saw
To the left, under a cliff, wide buildings girt
By a triple wall round which a torrent rushed
With scorching flames and boulders tossed in thunder,
The abyss’s Fiery River. A massive gate
With adamantine pillars faced the stream,
So strong no force of men or gods in war
May ever avail to crack and bring it down,
And high in air an iron tower stands
On which Tisiphone, her bloody robe
Pulled up about her, has her seat and keeps
Unsleeping watch over the entrance way
By day and night. From the interior, groans
Are heard, and thud of lashes, clanking iron,
Dragging chains.
[Respicit Aeneas subito, et sub rupe sinistra
moenia lata videt, triplici circumdata muro,
quae rapidus flammis ambit torrentibus amnis,
Tartareus Phlegethon, torquetque sonantia saxa.
Porta adversa ingens, solidoque adamante columnae,
vis ut nulla virum, non ipsi exscindere bello
caelicolae valeant; stat ferrea turris ad auras,
Tisiphoneque sedens, palla succincta cruenta,
vestibulum exsomnis servat noctesque diesque,
Hinc exaudiri gemitus, et saeva sonare
verbera; tum stridor ferri, tractaeque catenae.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 6, l. 548ff (6.548-560) (29-19 BC) [tr. Fitzgerald (1981), l. 735ff]
(Source)
Tartarus, the Underworld place of punishment for the damned.
On his left side,
Aeneas then under a Rock espide
A mighty fort surrounded with three walls,
Where Phlegeton with a swift current falls
Of flaming waves: rowling huge stones along,
The gates on adamatine pillars hung;
No strength of men, of steel, nor gods, has power
This to destroy, high stands the brazen towre.
Girt in a bloody robe Tisiphone keeps
The entrance night and day, and never sleeps.
Hence cruel lashes sound and groaning pains,
Clashing of steel, and ratling of huge chains.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
The hero, looking on the left, espied
A lofty tow'r, and strong on ev'ry side
With treble walls, which Phlegethon surrounds,
Whose fiery flood the burning empire bounds;
And, press'd betwixt the rocks, the bellowing noise resounds
Wide is the fronting gate, and, rais'd on high
With adamantine columns, threats the sky.
Vain is the force of man, and Heav'n's as vain,
To crush the pillars which the pile sustain.
Sublime on these a tow'r of steel is rear'd;
And dire Tisiphone there keeps the ward,
Girt in her sanguine gown, by night and day,
Observant of the souls that pass the downward way.
From hence are heard the groans of ghosts, the pains
Of sounding lashes and of dragging chains.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]
Aeneas on a sudden looks back, and under a rock on the left sees vast prisons enclosed with a triple wall, which Tartarean Phlegethon's rapid flood environs with torrents of flame, and whirls roaring rocks along. Fronting is a huge gate, with columns of solid adamant, that no strength of men, nor the gods themselves, can with steel demolish. An iron tower rises aloft; and there wakeful Tisiphone, with ehr bloody robe tucked up around her, sits to watch the vestibule both night and day. Hence groans are heard; the grating too of iron, and clank of dragging chains.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]
Sudden Æneas turns his eyes,
When 'neath the left-hand cliff he spies
The bastions of a broad stronghold,
Engirt with walls of triple fold:
Fierce Phlegethon surrounds the same,
Foaming aloft with torrent flame, And whirls his roaring rocks:
In front a portal stands displayed,
On adamantine columns stayed:
Nor mortal nor immortal foe
Those massy gates could overthrow With battle's direst shocks.
An iron tower of equal might In air uprises steep:
Tisiphone, in red robes dight,
Sits on the threshold day and night With eyes that know not sleep.
Hark! from within there issue groans, The cracking of the thong,
The clank of iron o'er the stones Dragged heavily along.
[tr. Conington (1866)]
Then suddenly Aeneas, looking back,
Beneath a cliff upon the left beholds
A prison vast with triple ramparts girt,
Bound which Tartarean Phlegethon, with surge
Of foaming torrents, raves, and thundering whirl
Of rocks. A gateway huge in front is seen,
With columns of the solid adamant.
No strength of man, or even of gods, avails
Against it. Rising in the air a tower
Of iron appears: there sits Tisiphone,
Tucked in her blood-stained robes, and night and day
Guarding the entrance with her sleepless eyes.
Groans from within were heard; the cruel lash.
Then clank of iron, and of dragging chains.
[tr. Cranch (1872), l. 680ff]
Aeneas looks swiftly back, and sees beneath the cliff on the left hand a wide city, girt with a triple wall and encircled by a racing river of boiling flame, Tartarean Phlegethon, that echoes over its rolling rocks. In front is the gate, huge and pillared with solid adamant, that no warring force of men nor the very habitants of heaven may avail to overthrow; it stands up a tower of iron, and Tisiphone sitting girt in bloodstained pall keeps sleepless watch at the entry by night and day. Hence moans are heard and fierce lashes resound, with the clank of iron and dragging chains.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]
But suddenly Æneas turned, and lo, a city lay
Wide-spread 'neath crags upon the left, girt with a wall threefold;
And round about in hurrying flood a flaming river rolled,
E'en Phlegethon of Tartarus, with rattling, stony roar:
In face with adamantine posts was wrought the mighty door,
Such as no force of men nor might of heaven-abiders high
May cleave with steel; an iron tower thence riseth to the sky:
And there is set Tisiphone, with girded blood-stained gown,
Who, sleepless, holdeth night and day the doorway of the town.
Great wail and cruel sound of stripes that city sendeth out,
And iron clanking therewithal of fetters dragged about.
[tr. Morris (1900), l. 548ff]
Back looked Æneas, and espied
Broad bastions, girt with triple wall, that frowned
Beneath a rock to leftward, and the tide
Of torrent Phlegethon, that flamed around,
And made the beaten rocks rebellow with the sound.
In front, a massive gateway threats the sky,
And posts of solid adamant upstay
An iron tower, firm-planted to defy
All force, divine or human. Night and day,
Sleepless Tisiphone defends the way,
Girt up with bloody garments. From within
Loud groans are heard, and wailings of dismay,
The whistling scourge, the fetter's clank and din,
Shrieks, as of tortured fiends, and all the sounds of sin.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 72-73; l. 644ff]
Aeneas straightway by the leftward cliff
Beheld a spreading rampart, high begirt
With triple wall, and circling round it ran
A raging river of swift floods of flame,
Infernal Phlegethon, which whirls along
Loud-thundering rocks. A mighty gate is there
Columned in adamant; no human power,
Nor even the gods, against this gate prevail.
Tall tower of steel it has; and seated there
Tisiphone, in blood-flecked pall arrayed,
Sleepless forever, guards the entering way.
Hence groans are heard, fierce cracks of lash and scourge,
Loud-clanking iron links and trailing chains.
[tr. Williams (1910)]
Suddenly Aeneas looks back, and under a cliff on the left sees a broad castle, girt with triple wall and encircled with a rushing flood of torrent flames -- Tartarean Phlegethon, that rolls along thundering rocks. In front stands the huge gate, and pillars of solid adamant, that no might of man, nay, not even the sons of heaven, may uproot in war; there stands the iron tower, soaring high, and Tisiphone, sitting girt with bloody pall, keeps sleepless watch o'er the portal night and day. Therefrom are heard groans and the sound of the savage lash; withal, the clank of iron and dragging of chains.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]
As he looked back, Aeneas saw, to his left,
Wide walls beneath a cliff, a triple rampart,
A river running fire, Phlegethon’s torrent,
Rocks roaring in its course, a gate, tremendous,
Pillars of adamant, a tower of iron,
Too strong for men, too strong for even gods
To batter down in warfare, and behind them
A Fury, sentinel in bloody garments,
Always on watch, by day, by night. He heard
Sobbing and groaning there, the crack of the lash,
The clank of iron, the sound of dragging shackles.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]
Aeneas looked back on a sudden: he saw to his left a cliff
Overhanging with a spread of battlements, a threefold wall about them,
Girdled too by a swift-running stream, a flaming torrent --
Hell's river of fire, whose current rolls clashing rocks along.
In front, an enormous portal, the door-posts columns of adamant,
So strong that no mortal violence nor even the heaven-dwellers
Can broach it: an iron tower stands sheer and soaring above it,
Whereupon Tisiphone sits, wrapped in a bloodstained robe,
Sleeplessly, day-long, night-long, guarding the forecourt there.
From within can be heard the sounds of groaning and brutal lashing,
Sounds of clanking iron, of chains being dragged along.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]
Aeneas suddenly looks back; beneath
a rock upon his left he sees a broad
fortress encircled by a triple wall
and girdled by a rapid flood of flames
that rage: Tartarean Phlegethon whirling
resounding rocks. A giant gateway stands
in front, with solid adamantine pillars --
no force of man, not even heaven's sons,
enough to level these in war; a tower
of iron rises in the air; there sits
Tisiphone, who wears a bloody mantle.
She guards the entrance, sleepless night and day.
Both groans and savage scourgings echo there,
and then the clang of iron and dragging chains.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 725ff]
Aeneas looked back suddenly and saw under a cliff on his left hand a broad city encircled by a triple wall and washed all round by Phlegethon, one of the rivers of Tartarus, a torrent of fire and flame, rolling and grinding great boulders in its current. There before him stood a huge gate with columns of solid adamant so strong that neither the violence of men nor the heavenly gods themselves could ever uproot them in war, and an iron tower rose into the air where Tisiphone sat with her blood-soaked dress girt up, guarding the entreance and never sleeping, night or day. They could hear the groands from the city, the cruel crack of the lash, the dragging and clanking of iron chains.
[tr. West (1990)]
Aeneas suddenly looked back, and, below the left hand cliff,
he saw wide battlements, surrounded by a triple wall,
and encircled by a swift river of red-hot flames,
the Tartarean Phlegethon, churning with echoing rocks.
A gate fronts it, vast, with pillars of solid steel,
that no human force, not the heavenly gods themselves,
can overturn by war: an iron tower rises into the air,
and seated before it, Tisiphone, clothed in a blood-wet dress,
keeps guard of the doorway, sleeplessly, night and day.
Groans came from there, and the cruel sound of the lash,
then the clank of iron, and dragging chains.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Aeneas
suddenly glances back and beneath a cliff to the left
he sees an enormous fortress ringed with triple walls
and raging around it all, a blazing flood of lava,
Tartarus’ River of Fire, whirling thunderous boulders.
Before it rears a giant gate, its columns solid adamant,
so no power of man, not even the gods themselves
can root it out in war. An iron tower looms on high
where Tisiphone, crouching with bloody shroud girt up,
never sleeping, keeps her watch at the entrance night and day.
Groans resound from the depths, the savage crack of the lash,
the grating creak of iron, the clank of dragging chains.
[tr. Fagles (2006), l. 637ff]
Aeneas stole a quick glance back. To the left, under a cliff, was a massive fortress ringed with triple walls and a raging moat of fire: Phlegethon, hurling thunderous rocks. In front, a giant gate and adamantine pillars. No human force, not even warring gods, could rip them out. An iron tower reached the sky. There Tisiphone crouched wakefully, her bloody cloak hitched high. She watched the entrance day and night. You could hear groans and savage lash-strokes, irons clanking, chains being dragged.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]
But I’d sooner have the depths of earth gape open,
and almighty Father hurl me down to Hades
with his bolt, to the pallid shades and inky night,
before I disobey my conscience or its laws.
[Sed mihi vel tellus optem prius ima dehiscat
Vel pater omnipotens adigat me fulmine ad umbras,
Pallentis umbras Erebo noctemque profundam,
Ante, pudor, quam te violo aut tua iura resolvo.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 4, l. 24ff (4.24-29) [Dido] (29-19 BC) [tr. Bartsch (2021)]
(Source)
Dido, regarding her loyalty to her dead husband even as she falls in love with Aeneas.
But first earth swallow me, or mighty Jove
Shall to the shades with dreadfull thunder smite,
Pale shades of Erebus and deepest night,
Ere shame I violate thee, or wrong thy rites.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
But first let yawning earth a passage rend,
And let me thro' the dark abyss descend;
First let avenging Jove, with flames from high,
Drive down this body to the nether sky,
Condemn'd with ghosts in endless night to lie,
Before I break the plighted faith I gave!
[tr. Dryden (1697)]
But sooner may earth from her lowest depths yawn for me, or the almighty Sire hurl me by his thunder to the shades, the pale shades of Erebus and deep night, than I violate thee, modesty, or break they laws.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]
But first for me may Earth unseal The horrors of her womb,
Or Jove with awful thunderpeal Dismiss me into gloom,
The gloom of Orcus' dim twilight,
Or deeper still, primeval night,
Ere wound I thee, my woman's fame,
Or disallow thy sacred claim.
[tr. Conington (1866)]
But I would rather that the steadfast earth
Should yawn beneath me, from its lowest depths,
Or the Omnipotent Father hurl me down
With thunder to the shades, the pallid shades
Of Erebus, and night profound, ere thee,
O sacred shame, I violate, or break
Thy laws.
[tr. Cranch (1872)]
But rather, I pray, may earth first yawn deep for me, or the Lord omnipotent hurl me with his thunderbolt into gloom, the pallid gloom and profound night of Erebus, ere I soil thee, mine honour, or unloose thy laws.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]
And yet I pray the deeps of earth beneath my feet may yawn,
I pray the Father send me down bolt-smitten to the shades,
The pallid shades of Erebus, the night that never fades,
Before, O Shame, I shame thy face, or loose what thou hast tied!
[tr. Morris (1900)]
But O! gape Earth, or may the Sire of might
Hurl me with lightning to the Shades amain,
Pale shades of Erebus and abysmal Night,
Ere, wifely modesty, thy name I stain,
Or dare thy sacred precepts to profane.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 4, l. 28ff]
But may the earth gape open where I tread,
and may almighty Jove with thunder-scourge
hurl me to Erebus' abysmal shade,
to pallid ghosts and midnight fathomless,
before, O Chastity! I shall offend
thy holy power, or cast thy bonds away!
[tr. Williams (1910)]
But rather, I would pray, may earth yawn for me to its depths, or may the Almighty Father hurl me with his bolt to the shades -- the pale shades and abysmal night of Erebus -- before, O Shame, I violate thee or break thy laws!
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]
But I pray, rather,
That earth engulf me, lightning strike me down
To the pale shades and everlasting night
Before I break the laws of decency.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]
But no, I would rather the earth should open and swallow me
Or the Father of heaven strike me with lightning down to the shades --
The pale shades and deep night of the Underworld -- before
I violate or deny pure widowhood's claim upon me.
[tr. Day Lewis (1952)]
But I should call upon the earth to gape
and close above me, or on the almighty
Father to take his thunderbolt, to hurl
me down to the shades, the pallid shadows
and deepest night of Erebus, before
I'd violate you, Shame, or break your laws!
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971)]
But O chaste life, before I break your laws,
I pray that Earth may open, gape for me
Down to its depth, or the omnipotent
With one stroke blast me to the shades, pale shades
Of Erebus and the deep world of night!
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981)]
But I would pray that the earth open to its depths and swallow me or that the All-powerful Father of the Gods blast me with his thunderbolt and hurl me down to the pale shades of Erebus and its bottomless night before I go against my conscience and rescind its laws.
[tr. West (1990)]
But I pray rather that earth might gape wide for me, to its depths,
or the all-powerful father hurl me with his lightning-bolt
down to the shadows, to the pale ghosts, and deepest night
of Erebus, before I violate you, Honour, or break your laws.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
But may the earth gape open and swallow me,
May the Father Almighty blast me
Down to the shades of Erebus below
And Night profound, before I violate you,
O Modesty, and break your vows.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]
I pray that the earth gape deep enough to take me down
or the almighty Father blast me with one bolt to the shades,
the pale, glimmering shades in hell, the pit of night,
before I dishonor you, my conscience, break your laws.
[tr. Fagles (2006), l. 30ff]
There are thousands of things in the Scriptures that everybody believes. Everybody believes the Scriptures are right when they say, “Thou shalt not steal” — everybody. And when they say “Give good measure, heaped up and running over,” everybody says, “Good!” So when they say “Love your neighbor,” everybody applauds that.
Suppose a man believes that, and practices it, does it make any difference whether he believes in the flood or not? Is that of any importance? Whether a man built an ark or not — does that make the slightest difference? A man might deny it and yet be a very good man. Another might believe it and be a very mean man. Could it now, by any possibility, make a man a good father, a good husband, a good citizen? Does it make any difference whether you believe it or not?
Does it make any difference whether or not you believe that a man was going through town and his hair was a little short, like mine, and some little children laughed at him, and thereupon two bears from the woods came down and tore to pieces about forty of these children? Is it necessary to believe that? Suppose a man should say, “I guess that is a mistake. They did not copy that right. I guess the man that reported that was a little dull of hearing and did not get the story exactly right.” Any harm in saying that? Is a man to be sent to the penitentiary for that? Can you imagine an infinitely good God sending a man to hell because he did not believe the bear story?
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
Speech to the Jury, Trial of C. B. Reynolds for Blasphemy, Morristown, New Jersey (May 1887)
(Source)
Once, when a religionist denounced me in unmeasured terms, I sent him a card saying, “I am sure you believe that I will go to hell when I die, and that once there I will suffer all the pains and tortures the sadistic ingenuity of your deity can devise and that this torture will continue forever. Isn’t that enough for you? Do you have to call me bad names in addition?”
Isaac Asimov (1920-1992) Russian-American author, polymath, biochemist I, Asimov, ch. 73 “Letters” (1979)
(Source)
It would be a pretty good bet that the gods of a world like this probably do not play chess and indeed this is the case. In fact no gods anywhere play chess. They haven’t got the imagination. Gods prefer simple, vicious games, where you Do Not Achieve Transcendence but Go Straight To Oblivion; a key to the understanding of all religion is that a god’s idea of amusement is Snakes and Ladders with greased rungs.
Terry Pratchett (1948-2015) English author Wyrd Sisters (1988)
(Source)
If God didn’t want women to be looked at, he would have made ’em ugly — that’s reasonable, isn’t it? God isn’t a cheat; He set up the game Himself — He wouldn’t rig it so that the marks can’t win, like a flat joint wheel in a town with the fix on. He wouldn’t send anybody to Hell for losing in a crooked game.
Robert A. Heinlein (1907-1988) American writer Stranger in a Strange Land, ch. 27 [Patty] (1961)
(Source)
“There are two types of people in this world,” Pete volunteers helpfully, “those who think there are only two types of people in the world, and everybody else.” He sips his wine thoughtfully. “But the first kind don’t put it that way. They usually think in terms of the saved and the damned, with themselves sitting pretty in the lifeboat.”
Charles "Charlie" Stross (b. 1964) British writer The Apocalypse Codex (2012)
And, when you, looking on your fellow men
Behold them doomed to endless misery,
How can you talk of joy and rapture then?
May God withhold such cruel joy from me!
Anne Brontë (1820-1849) British novelist, poet [pseud. Acton Bell]
“A Word to Calvinists” (28 May 1843)
(Source)
You may rejoice to think yourselves secure,
You may be grateful for the gift divine,
That grace unsought which made your black hearts pure
And fits your earthborn souls in Heaven to shine.
But is it sweet to look around and view
Thousands excluded from that happiness,
Which they deserve at least as much as you,
Their faults not greater nor their virtues less?
Anne Brontë (1820-1849) British novelist, poet [pseud. Acton Bell]
“A Word to Calvinists” (28 May 1843)
(Source)
The doors of Hell are locked on the inside. I do not mean that the ghosts may not wish to come out of Hell, in the vague fashion wherein an envious man “wishes” to be happy: but they certainly do not will even the first preliminary stages of that self-abandonment through which alone the soul can reach any good. They enjoy forever the horrible freedom they have demanded, and are therefore self-enslaved: just as the blessed, forever submitting to obedience, become through all eternity more and more free.
C. S. Lewis (1898-1963) English writer, literary scholar, lay theologian [Clive Staples Lewis]
The Problem of Pain (1940)
Most of the bad guys in the real world don’t know that they are bad guys. You don’t get a flashing warning sign that you’re about to damn yourself. It sneaks up on you when you aren’t looking.
Jim Butcher (b. 1971) American author Proven Guilty, ch. 41 (2006)
(Source)
NORFOLK: I’m not a scholar, as Master Cromwell never tires of pointing out, and frankly I don’t know whether the marriage was lawful or not. But damn it, Thomas, look at those names … You know those men! Can’t you do what I did, and come with us, for friendship?
MORE: And when we stand before God, and you are sent to Paradise for doing according to your conscience, and I am damned for not doing according to mine, will you come with me, for friendship?
Robert Bolt (1924-1995) English dramatist A Man for All Seasons, play, Act 2 (1960)
(Source)
In Bolt's 1966 film adaptation, this is shortened:
NORFOLK: I'm not a scholar, I don't know whether the marriage was lawful or not. But damn it, Thomas, look at these names! Why can't you do as I did, and come with us, for fellowship? MORE: And when we die, and you are sent to heaven for doing your conscience, and I am sent to hell for not doing mine, will you come with me, for fellowship?
What is blasphemy? I will give you a definition; I will give you my thought upon this subject. What is real blasphemy? To live on the unpaid labor of other men — that is blasphemy. To enslave your fellow-man, to put chains upon his body — that is blasphemy. To enslave the minds of men, to put manacles upon the brain, padlocks upon the lips — that is blasphemy. To deny what you believe to be true, to admit to be true what you believe to be a lie — that is blasphemy. To strike the weak and unprotected, in order that you may gain the applause of the ignorant and superstitious mob — that is blasphemy. To persecute the intelligent few, at the command of the ignorant many — that is blasphemy. To forge chains, to build dungeons, for your honest fellow-men — that is blasphemy. To pollute the souls of children with the dogma of eternal pain — that is blasphemy. To violate your conscience — that is blasphemy. The jury that gives an unjust verdict, and the judge who pronounces an unjust sentence, are blasphemers. The man who bows to public opinion against his better judgment and against his honest conviction, is a blasphemer.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
Trial of C.B. Reynolds for blasphemy (May 1887)
(Source)
As long as we love we will hope to live, and when the one dies that we love we will say: “Oh, that we could meet again,” and whether we do or not it will not be the work of theology. It will be a fact in nature. I would not for my life destroy one star of human hope, but I want it so that when a poor woman rocks the cradle and sings a lullaby to the dimpled darling, she will not be compelled to believe that ninety-nine chances in a hundred she is raising kindling wood for hell.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“What Must We Do To Be Saved?” Sec. 11 (1880)
(Source)
Heaven is where those are we love, and those who love us. And I wish to go to no world unless I can be accompanied by those who love me here. Talk about the consolations of this infamous doctrine. The consolations of a doctrine that makes a father say, “I can be happy with my daughter in hell;” that makes a mother say, “I can be happy with my generous, brave boy in hell;” that makes a boy say, “I can enjoy the glory of heaven with the woman who bore me, the woman who would have died for me, in eternal agony.” And they call that tidings of great joy.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“What Must We Do To Be Saved?” Sec. 9 (1880)
(Source)
This brother, who is little remembered, was a complacent miser who, being a priest, felt obliged to give alms to the poor he encountered, though he never gave them anything but worthless Revolutionary coins or demonetized sous, thereby contriving to go to hell by following the path to paradise.
[Ce frère, dont il est resté peu de souvenir, était un paisible avare, qui, étant prêtre, se croyait obligé de faire l’aumône aux pauvres qu’il rencontrait, mais il ne leur donnait jamais que des monnerons ou des sous démonétisés, trouvant ainsi moyen d’aller en enfer par le chemin du paradis.]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer Les Misérables, Part 3 “Marius,” Book 2 “The Grand Bourgeois,” ch. 6 (3.2.6) (1862) [tr. Donougher (2013)]
(Source)
This brother, of whom hardly a memory is left, was a quiet miser, who, being a priest, felt obliged to give alms to the poor whom he met, but never gave them anything more than coppers or worn-out sous, finding thus the means of going to Hell by the road to Paradise.
[tr. Wilbour (1862); tr. Wilbour / Fahnestock / MacAfee (1987)]
This brother, who is not much remembered, was a great miser, who, as he was a priest, thought himself bound to give alms to the poor he met, but he never gave them aught but bad or called-in money, thus finding means of going to Hades by the road to Paradise.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]
This brother, of whom but little memory remains, was a peaceable miser, who, being a priest, thought himself bound to bestow alms on the poor whom he met, but he never gave them anything except bad or demonetized sous, thereby discovering a means of going to hell by way of paradise.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]
The brother, whom he scarcely remembered, had been a peaceable skinflint who, being a priest, felt it his duty to give alms to such of the poor as he encountered; but the coins he gave them were always obsolete currency, and thus he found means of going to Hell by way of Paradise.
[tr. Denny (1976)]
Now when the Human One comes in his majesty and all his angels are with him, he will sit on his majestic throne. All the nations will be gathered in front of him. He will separate them from each other, just as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right side. But the goats he will put on his left. Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who will receive good things from my Father. Inherit the kingdom that was prepared for you before the world began. I was hungry and you gave me food to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger and you welcomed me. I was naked and you gave me clothes to wear. I was sick and you took care of me. I was in prison and you visited me.’ Then those who are righteous will reply to him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you a drink? When did we see you as a stranger and welcome you, or naked and give you clothes to wear? When did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ Then the king will reply to them, ‘I assure you that when you have done it for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you have done it for me.’ Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Get away from me, you who will receive terrible things. Go into the unending fire that has been prepared for the devil and his angels. I was hungry and you didn’t give me food to eat. I was thirsty and you didn’t give me anything to drink. I was a stranger and you didn’t welcome me. I was naked and you didn’t give me clothes to wear. I was sick and in prison, and you didn’t visit me.’ Then they will reply, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison and didn’t do anything to help you?’ Then he will answer, ‘I assure you that when you haven’t done it for one of the least of these, you haven’t done it for me.’ And they will go away into eternal punishment. But the righteous ones will go into eternal life.
When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory: and before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats: and he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left. Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me. Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels: for I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not. Then shall they also answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee? Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me. And these shall go away into everlasting punishment: but the righteous into life eternal.
[KJV (1611)]
When the Son of Man comes in his glory, escorted by all the angels, then he will take his seat on his throne of glory. All the nations will be assembled before him and he will separate men one from another as the shepherd separates sheep from goats. He will place the sheep on his right hand and the goats on his left. Then the King will say to those on his right hand, "Come, you whom my Father has blessed, take for your heritage the kingdom prepared for you since the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink; I was a stranger and you made me welcome; naked and you clothed me, sick and you visited me, in prison and you came to see me." Then the virtuous will say to him in reply, "Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you; or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and make you welcome; naked and clothe you; sick or in prison and go to see you?" And the King will answer, "I tell you solemnly, in so far as you did this to one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did it to me." Next he will say to those on his left hand, "Go away from me, with your curse upon you, to the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you never gave me food; I was thirsty and you never gave me anything to drink; I was a stranger and you never made me welcome, naked and you never clothed me, sick and in prison and you never visited me." Then it will be their turn to ask, "Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty, a stranger or naked, sick or in prison, and did not come to your help?" Then he will answer, "I tell you solemnly, in so far as you neglected to do this to one of the least of these, you neglected to do it to me". And they will go away to eternal punishment, and the virtuous to eternal life.
[JB (1966)]
When the Son of Man comes as King and all the angels with him, he will sit on his royal throne, and the people of all the nations will be gathered before him. Then he will divide them into two groups, just as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the righteous people at his right and the others at his left. Then the King will say to the people on his right, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father! Come and possess the kingdom which has been prepared for you ever since the creation of the world. I was hungry and you fed me, thirsty and you gave me a drink; I was a stranger and you received me in your homes, naked and you clothed me; I was sick and you took care of me, in prison and you visited me.’ The righteous will then answer him, ‘When, Lord, did we ever see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you a drink? When did we ever see you a stranger and welcome you in our homes, or naked and clothe you? When did we ever see you sick or in prison, and visit you?’ The King will reply, ‘I tell you, whenever you did this for one of the least important of these followers of mine, you did it for me!’ Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Away from me, you that are under God's curse! Away to the eternal fire which has been prepared for the Devil and his angels! I was hungry but you would not feed me, thirsty but you would not give me a drink; I was a stranger but you would not welcome me in your homes, naked but you would not clothe me; I was sick and in prison but you would not take care of me.’ Then they will answer him, ‘When, Lord, did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and we would not help you?’ The King will reply, ‘I tell you, whenever you refused to help one of these least important ones, you refused to help me.’ These, then, will be sent off to eternal punishment, but the righteous will go to eternal life.
[GNT (1976)]
When the Son of man comes in his glory, escorted by all the angels, then he will take his seat on his throne of glory. All nations will be assembled before him and he will separate people one from another as the shepherd separates sheep from goats. He will place the sheep on his right hand and the goats on his left. Then the King will say to those on his right hand, "Come, you whom my Father has blessed, take as your heritage the kingdom prepared for you since the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you made me welcome, lacking clothes and you clothed me, sick and you visited me, in prison and you came to see me." Then the upright will say to him in reply, "Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and make you welcome, lacking clothes and clothe you? When did we find you sick or in prison and go to see you?" And the King will answer, "In truth I tell you, in so far as you did this to one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did it to me." Then he will say to those on his left hand, "Go away from me, with your curse upon you, to the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you never gave me food, I was thirsty and you never gave me anything to drink, I was a stranger and you never made me welcome, lacking clothes and you never clothed me, sick and in prison and you never visited me." Then it will be their turn to ask, "Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty, a stranger or lacking clothes, sick or in prison, and did not come to your help?" Then he will answer, "In truth I tell you, in so far as you neglected to do this to one of the least of these, you neglected to do it to me." And they will go away to eternal punishment, and the upright to eternal life.
[NJB (1985)]
When the Son of man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate them one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will place the sheep at his right hand, but the goats at the left. Then the King will say to those at his right hand, 'Come, O blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.' Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see thee hungry and feed thee, or thirsty and give thee drink? And when did we see thee a stranger and welcome thee, or naked and clothe thee? And when did we see thee sick or in prison and visit thee?' And the King will answer them, 'Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.' Then he will say to those at his left hand, 'Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.' Then they also will answer, 'Lord, when did we see thee hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to thee?' Then he will answer them, 'Truly, I say to you, as you did it not to one of the least of these, you did it not to me.' And they will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]
As long as we love we will hope to live, and when the one dies that we love we will say: “Oh, that we could meet again,” and whether we do or not it will not be the work of theology. It will be a fact in nature. I would not for my life destroy one star of human hope, but I want it so that when a poor woman rocks the cradle and sings a lullaby to the dimpled darling, she will not be compelled to believe that ninety-nine chances in a hundred she is raising kindling wood for hell.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“What Must We Do to Be Saved?” Sec. 11 (1880)
(Source)
I attacked the doctrine of eternal pain. I hold it in infinite and utter abhorrence. And if there be a God in this universe who made a hell; if there be a God in this universe who denies to any human being the right of reformation, then that God is not good, that God is not just, and the future of man is infinitely dark. I despise that doctrine, and I have done what little I could to get that horror from the cradle, that horror from the hearts of mothers, that horror from the hearts of husbands and fathers, and sons, and brothers, and sisters. It is a doctrine that turns to ashes all the humanities of life and all the hopes of mankind. I despise it.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“Reply to Rev. Drs. Thomas and Lorimer,” speech, Chicago (26 Nov 1882)
(Source)
HAMLET:Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveler returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
William Shakespeare (1564-1616) English dramatist and poet Hamlet, Act 3, sc. 1, l. 84ff (3.1.84-90) (c. 1600)
(Source)
They say that God says to me, “Forgive your enemies.” I say, “I do”; but he says, “I will damn mine.” God should be consistent. If he wants me to forgive my enemies he should forgive his.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“Orthodoxy” (1884)
(Source)
If there is a God who will damn his children forever, I would rather go to hell than to go to heaven and keep the society of such an infamous tyrant. I make my choice now. I despise that doctrine. It has covered the cheeks of this world with tears. It has polluted the hearts of children, and poisoned the imaginations of men.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“The Liberty of Man, Woman, and Child” (1877)
(Source)
I do not say, and I do not believe, that Christians are as bad as their creeds. In spite of church and dogma, there have been millions and millions of men and women true to the loftiest and most generous promptings of the human heart. They have been true to their convictions, and, with a self-denial and fortitude excelled by none, have labored and suffered for the salvation of men. Imbued with the spirit of self-sacrifice, believing that by personal effort they could rescue at least a few souls from the infinite shadow of hell, they have cheerfully endured every hardship and scorned every danger. And yet, notwithstanding all this, they believed that honest error was a crime. They knew that the Bible so declared, and they believed that all unbelievers would be eternally lost. They believed that religion was of God, and all heresy of the devil. They killed heretics in defense of their own souls and the souls of their children. They killed them because, according to their idea, they were the enemies of God, and because the Bible teaches that the blood of the unbeliever is a most acceptable sacrifice to heaven.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
Lecture (1874-05-03), “Heretics and Heresies,” Free Religious Society, Kingsbury Hall, Chicago
(Source)
Is it necessary that Heaven should borrow its light from the glare of Hell? Infinite punishment is infinite cruelty, endless injustice, immortal meanness. To worship an eternal gaoler hardens, debases, and pollutes even the vilest soul. While there is one sad and breaking heart in the universe, no good being can be perfectly happy.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“The Great Infidels” (1881)
(Source)
Give any orthodox church the power, and to-day they would punish heresy with whip, and chain, and fire. As long as a church deems a certain belief essential to salvation, just so long it will kill and burn if it has the power. Why should the church pity a man whom her God hates? Why should she show mercy to a kind and noble heretic whom her God will burn in eternal fire? Why should a Christian be better than his God?
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
Lecture (1874-05-03), “Heretics and Heresies,” Free Religious Society, Kingsbury Hall, Chicago
(Source)
While utterly discarding all creeds, and denying the truth of all religions, there is neither in my heart nor upon my lips a sneer for the hopeful, loving and tender souls who believe that from all this discord will result a perfect harmony; that every evil will in some mysterious way become a good, and that above and over all there is a being who, in some way, will reclaim and glorify every one of the children of men; but for those who heartlessly try to prove that salvation is almost impossible; that damnation is almost certain; that the highway of the universe leads to hell; who fill life with fear and death with horror; who curse the cradle and mock the tomb, it is impossible to entertain other than feelings of pity, contempt and scorn.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“The Gods” (1876)
(Source)
Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and there will be gifts for you: a full measure, pressed down, shaken together, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap; because the standard you use will be the standard used for you.
Judge not, and ye shall not be judged: condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned: forgive, and ye shall be forgiven: give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again.
[KJV (1611)]
Do not judge, and you will not be judged yourselves; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned yourselves; grant pardon, and you will be pardoned. Give, and there will be gifts for you: a full measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, will be poured into your lap; because the amount you measure out is the amount you will be given back.
[JB (1966)]
Do not judge others, and God will not judge you; do not condemn others, and God will not condemn you; forgive others, and God will forgive you. Give to others, and God will give to you. Indeed, you will receive a full measure, a generous helping, poured into your hands -- all that you can hold. The measure you use for others is the one that God will use for you.
[GNT (1976)]
Don’t judge, and you won’t be judged. Don’t condemn, and you won’t be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you. A good portion -- packed down, firmly shaken, and overflowing -- will fall into your lap. The portion you give will determine the portion you receive in return.
[CEB (2011)]
Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.
[NIV (2011 ed.)]
Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap, for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]
