Note not all quotations have been tagged, so Search may find additional quotes on this topic.
In this country it is useful from time to time to kill one admiral in order to encourage the others.
[Dans ce pays-ci il est bon de tuer de tems en tems un Amiral pour encourager les autres.]
Voltaire (1694-1778) French writer [pseud. of Francois-Marie Arouet] Candide, ch. 23 (1759) [tr. Adams (1966)]
(Source)
As Candide witnesses the (real-life) 1757 execution of English Admiral John Byng, who withdrew his undermanned ships from a naval battle during the French invasion of Minorca at the beginning of the Seven Years War. Byng was scapegoated for poor condition of the Mediterranean fleet, and court martialed for "failing to do his utmost" in the battle, which carried an automatic death penalty. In real life, Voltaire had been one of the people who attempted to intervene on Byng's behalf. In the book, Candide is so appalled by the injustice, he refuses to touch ground on English soil.
The last few words ("pour encourager les autres") are frequently quoted on their own referring to any harsh punishment used as an example to incent those who follow.
Titan! to thee the strife was given
Between the suffering and the will,
Which torture where they cannot kill;
And the inexorable Heaven,
And the deaf tyranny of Fate,
The ruling principle of Hate,
Which for its pleasure doth create
The things it may annihilate,
Refused thee even the boon to die:
The wretched gift Eternity
Was thine — and thou hast borne it well.
George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Prometheus,” st. 2 (1816)
(Source)
Titan! to whom immortal eyes The sufferings of mortality Seen in their sad reality,
Were not as things that gods despise;
What was thy pity’s recompense?
A silent suffering, and intense;
The rock, the vulture, and the chain,
All that the proud can feel of pain,
The agony they do not show,
The suffocating sense of woe, Which speaks but in its loneliness,
And then is jealous lest the sky
Should have a listener, nor will sigh Until its voice is echoless.
George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Prometheus,” st. 1 (1816)
(Source)
In France they ignore those who set fires and punish those who give the alarm.
[En France, on laisse en repos ceux qui mettent le feu, et on persécute ceux qui sonnent le tocsin.]
Nicolas Chamfort (1741-1794) French writer, epigrammist (b. Nicolas-Sébastien Roch) Products of Perfected Civilization [Produits de la Civilisation Perfectionée], Part 1 “Maxims and Thoughts [Maximes et Pensées],” ch. 8, ¶ 500 (1795) [tr. Merwin (1969)]
(Source)
Likely true for more than just France, especially as Chamfort was referring to political leadership.
The source for this fragment seems to be from a political incident. After the exile of Calonne in April 1787, after proposing a number of social reforms, Chamfort noted, "They ignored him when he started the fire, but punished him when he sounded the alarm." [tr. Dusinberre (1992), ¶ 499]. When collected as his "Thoughts," it was made more general.
Blow winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage, blow!
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drenched our steeples, drowned the cocks.
You sulph’rous and thought-executing fires,
Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
Singe my white head. And thou, all-shaking thunder,
Strike flat the thick rotundity o’ th’ world.
Crack nature’s molds, all germens spill at once
That makes ingrateful man.
William Shakespeare (1564-1616) English dramatist and poet King Lear, Act 3, sc. 2, l. 1ff (3.2.1-11) [Lear] (1606)
(Source)
And seeing me so intent,
my Guide said: “There are souls within those flames;
each sinner swathes himself in his own torment.”
[E ’l duca, che mi vide tanto atteso, disse: “Dentro dai fuochi son li spirti; catun si fascia di quel ch’elli è inceso”]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 26, l. 46ff (26.46-48) (1320) [tr. Ciardi (1954)]
(Source)
Seeing the fate of "Counsellors of Fraud" in the Eighth Circle, Eighth Bolgia. They advised others to commit deceptive acts, and suffer from the "thievish fire" which conceals their identity and burns their tongues when they speak.
My Guide, who me observed thus intent,
Said, Sprits are inclosed in those fires,
And each is wrapt in that by which he's burnt.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 45ff]
"Behold yon countless fires," the Mantuan cry'd,
"Each spiral flame a criminal contains,
And wraps the victim round in viewless chains. See! how they shrink, and strive their woes to hide."
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 8]
The guide, who mark’d
How I did gaze attentive, thus began: “Within these ardours are the spirits, each Swath’d in confining fire.”
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Mine earnest gaze
My leader noting told: "These fires are fraught
With each a soul, that round itself hath twined
The flame it suffers."
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
And the Guide, who saw me thus attent, said: "Within these fires are the psirits; each swathes himself with that which burns him."
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
The guide, who saw me thus attentive look -- "In fires," he said, "the spirts are inhumed, And swathed in that with which at first illumed."
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
My guide, who mark'd my keen desire to know, Then said -- "Within these flames are spirits held; And his own flame to each one clothing makes."
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
And the Leader, who beheld me so attent,
Exclaimed: "Within the fires the spirits are; Each swathes himself with that wherewith he burns."
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
And the Leader who saw me thus intent said: "Within the fires are the spirits; each is swathed of that wherewith he is kindled."
[tr. Butler (1885)]
My chief, who saw me so intently stand, Told me: "Within the flames the spirits bide; Each one is swathed in his consuming band."
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
And the Leader, who saw me thus attent, said, “Within these fires are the spirits; each is swathed by that wherewith he is enkindled.”
[tr. Norton (1892)]
And my Guide, who saw me thus intent, said: "The spirits are within the fires: each one is mantled with what consumeth him."
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
And said my guide, who so intent observed me, "Within the fires thou seest are the spirits: Each is wrapt round with that wherewith he blazes."
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
My Leader, who saw me so intent, said: "Within the flames are the spirits; each is swathed in that which burns him."
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
The Guide, who saw me gazing thus attent, Said: "Within these fires are the spirits confined, Burned by the shroud within which they are pent."
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
Seeing me thus intently lean and hover. My guide said: “In those flames the spirits go Shrouded, with their own torment for their cover.”
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
My leader, who saw me so intent, said, “Within the fires are the spirits: each swathes himself with that which burns him.”
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
And my guide who saw me so absorbed, explained: "There are souls concealed within these moving fires, each one swathed in his burning punishment."
[tr. Musa (1971)]
My guide, who noted how intent I was, told me: “Within those fires there are souls; each one is swathed in that which scorches him.”
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
My escort, when he saw me so attentive, Said: ‘In each fire there is a spirit; Each one is wrapped in what is burning him.’
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
Seeing how from the top
I gazed intently down, my master said, "Within the flames are spirits; each one here Enfolds himself in what burns him."
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
And my leader, who saw me so intent, said: “Within the fires are the spirits; each is swathed in that which burns him inwardly.”
[tr. Durling (1996)]
And the guide, who saw me so intent, said: ‘The spirits are inside those fires: each veils himself in that which burns him.’
[tr. Kline (2002)]
My leader, who had seen how hard I gazed, informed me now: ‘In all these fires are souls. Each one is swaddled in its inward blaze.’
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
My leader, when he saw me so intent, said: 'These spirits stand within the flames. Each one is wrapped in that in which he burns.'
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
And my Master said, seeing these sights working On me: "Here the spirits are inside their flames, Each sinner wrapped in the sin which burned him on earth."
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
And then my Leader, seeing me Look so intent, said “All these flames are what False counsellors must wear and be burned by.”
[tr. James (2013), l. 53ff]
If a person transgresses any of these rules, the penalty shall fit the crime.
[Quod quis earum rerum migrassit, noxiae poena par esto.]
Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher De Legibus [On the Laws], Book 3, ch. 4 / sec. 11 (3.4/3.11) [Marcus] (c. 51 BC) [tr. Rudd (1998)]
(Source)
A variant on the Latin legal maxim, culpae poenae par esto, usually rendered "Let the punishment fit the crime" (see also Gilbert & Sullivan, The Mikado (1885)).
For the perjurer the punishment from the gods is destruction; the human punishment shall be disgrace.
[Periurii poena divina exitium, humana dedecus esto.]
Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher De Legibus [On the Laws], Book 2, ch. 9 / sec. 22 (2.9/2.22) [Marcus] (c. 51 BC) [tr. Keyes (1928)]
(Source)
Burning at first no doubt would be worse,
But time the impression would soften,
While those who are bored with praising the Lord,
Would be more bored with praising him often.
G. Lowes Dickinson (1862-1932) British political scientist and philosopher [Goldsworthy "Goldie" Lowes Dickinson]
“Burning at First”
I'm unable to find a good source of this, other than a quotation in "A Fanfare for Prometheus," a speech by Learned Hand, American Jewish Committee, New York City (1955-01-29); the speech (with poem) was entered into the Congressional Record (1955-02-09) by Sen. Herbert Lehman of New York.
Fraud, which so gnaweth at all men’s conscience, A man may use on one who trusts him best And on him also who risks no confidence.
This latter mode seems only to arrest The love which Nature meaneth to endure; Hence in the second circle huddled nest
Hypocrisy, flattery; they who would conjure By spells; and simony; the thief, the cheat, Pandars and barrators, and the like ordure.
[La frode, ond’ogne coscïenza è morsa, può l’omo usare in colui che ‘n lui fida e in quel che fidanza non imborsa.
Questo modo di retro par ch’incida pur lo vinco d’amor che fa natura; onde nel cerchio secondo s’annida
ipocresia, lusinghe e chi affattura, falsità, ladroneccio e simonia, ruffian, baratti e simile lordura.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 11, l. 52ff (11.52-60) [Virgil] (1320) [tr. Binyon (1943)]
(Source)
On the punishment of common fraudsters, who do not betray a personal trust but only the natural love of humanity. This is still deemed worse, in Dante's cosmology, than deadly "bestial" violence.
Barratry is the sale of justice, employment, or public offices, going alongside simony, the sale of holy offices.
That Fraud of which each Conscience feels the pangs
Man may commit 'gainst those who do confide
In him, as well as those who trust him not.
The first unhappily destroys the Bond
In general by Nature form'd: from whence
Confined in the second Circle are
The Hypocrites, the Flatterers, and they
Who practice Coz'ning, Sorcery, and Theft,
Base Simony, procuring with a smile,
Masked Deceit, and all such filthy tricks.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 53ff]
Fraud skulks below with all her various brood, There darkling dwell the foes of public good.
The pilf'rer, and the cheat, his dark ally:
With those, whose felon hand their trust betray'd, Hypocrisy in faintly garb array'd. Corruption foul, and frontless Perjury.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 8]
Fraud, that in every conscience leaves a sting,
May be by man employ’d on one, whose trust
He wins, or on another who withholds
Strict confidence. Seems as the latter way
Broke but the bond of love which Nature makes.
Whence in the second circle have their nest
Dissimulation, witchcraft, flatteries,
Theft, falsehood, simony, all who seduce
To lust, or set their honesty at pawn,
With such vile scum as these.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Fraud, to the stricken conscience inly known, Might man devise on him who faith disbursed, And eke on him who credence had not shown.
The bond of love which nature framed at first. But only that, the latter mode hath slain, Whence nesting in the second orb lie curst
Hypocrites, and flatterers, and the wizard train, Falseness, and simonies, and pilferers' trade, Panders, and cheats, and all of foulest stain.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Fraud, which gnaws every conscience, a man may practice upon one who confides in him; and upon him who reposes no confidence. This latter mode seems only to cut off the bond of love which Nature makes: hence in the second circle nests hypocrisy, flattery, sorcerers, cheating, theft and simony, pandars, barrators, and like filth.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
And fraud, that every conscience can corrode --
Fraud may be practiced against them who trust, And those who put no confidence in dust.
This seems to come behind, it only slays
The kindly chains of love that nature binds Hence, in the lower circle, station finds
Hypocrisy, flattery and sorcery;
Falsification, robbery, simony, Seduction, quarrels, and brutality.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
That fraud, which sharply, ev'ry conscience bites, Man against those who trust in him may use, Or against those by whom no trust is giv'n.
This latter seems to rend in twain the bond Which Nature in her love for us hath made; Whence in the second circle such are held;
Magic, hypocrisy, and flatters, Vile falsehood, robbery and simony, Panders and Userers, and such foul stuff.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
Fraud, wherewithal is every conscience stung, A man may practise upon him who trusts, And him who doth no confidence imburse.
This latter mode, it would appear, dissevers Only the bond of love which Nature makes; Wherefore within the second circle nestle
Hypocrisy, flattery, and who deals in magic, Falsification, theft, and simony, Panders, and barrators, and the like filth.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
The fraud, wherewith every conscience is pricked, man can practise towards the one who trusts him, and towards him who has no confidence in store. This latter mode seems to destroy only the bond of love that nature makes; whence in the second circle have their nests hypocrisy, flatteries, and whoso uses arts; forgery, robbery, and simony; pandars, jobbers, and suchlike filth.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Such fraud, for which all must compunction feel. Can man exert 'gainst him whose trust he shares, And him whose thoughts no confidence reveal.
This latter fashion all unseemly tears The golden chain of love which Nature weaves. Whence gather in the second circle's lairs
Hypocrisy, all flattery that deceives, Witchcraft, lies, thefts, the Simoniac blot. Panders, chicaners, and all similar thieves.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Fraud, by which every conscience is bitten, man may practice on one that confides in him, or on one that owns no confidence. This latter mode seemeth to destroy only the bond of love that nature makes; wherefore in the second circle nestle hypocrisy, flatteries, and sorcerers, falsity, robbery, and simony, panders, barrators, and such like filth.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Fraud, with which there is no conscience but is bitten, a man may practise upon one who putteth his trust in him; and upon one who giveth no credit for fidelity. This last kind seemeth only to sever the bond of love which nature weaveth; and therefore is it that in the second circle there nestle hypocrisy, flattery, workers of sorcery, treachery, robbery and simony, panders, barrators, and such-like refuse.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
Fraud, wherewithal is bitten every conscience, A man may use regarding one who trusts him, Or one who has no store of trust to deal with.
This latter way, as it would seem, slays only The tie of love that nature itself fashions; Whence make their nest within the second circle
Hypocrisy, smooth speeches, and bewitchment, Forgery, thieving, and the sin of Simon, Panders, and jobbers, and the like offscouring.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
Fraud, which always stings the conscience, a man may practice on one who confides in him or on one who does not so place his confidence; it is evident that this latter way destroys simply the bond of love which nature makes, so that in the next circle, hypocrisy, flatteries, sorceries, falsifications, theft, and simony, panders, jobbers, and like filth have their nest.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Fraud, which gnaws at every conscience, may be a breach Of trust against the confiding, or deceive Such as repose no confidence; though each
Is fraud, the latter sort seems but to cleave The general bond of love and Nature's tie; So the second circle opens to receive
Hypocrites, flatterers, dealers in sorcery, Panders and cheats, and all such filthy stuff, With theft, and simony and barratry.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
Fraud, which is a canker to every conscience, may be practiced by a man on those who trust him, and on those who have reposed no confidence.
This latter mode seems only to deny the bond of love which all men have from Nature; therefore within the second circle lie
simoniacs, sycophants, and hypocrites, falsifiers, thieves, and sorcerers, grafters, pimps, and all such filthy cheats.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
Fraud, which gnaws at every conscience, a man may practice upon one who trusts in him, or upon one who reposes no condifence. This altter way seems to sever only the bond of love which nature makes; wherefore in the second circle hypocrisy, flatteries, sorcerers, falsity, theft, simony, panders, barratry, and like filth have their nest.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
Fraud, that gnaws the conscience of its servants, can be used on one who puts his trust in you or else on one who has no trust invested.
This latter sort seems only to destroy the bond of love that Nature gives to man; so in the second circle there are nests
of hypocrites, flatterers, dabblers in sorcery, falsifiers, thieves and simonists, panders, seducers, grafters and like filth.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
Now fraud, that eats away at every conscience, is praticed by a man against another who trusts in him, or one who has no trust.
This latter way seems only to cut off the bond of love that nature forges; thus, nestled within the second circle are:
hypocrisy and flattery, sorcerers, and falsifiers, simony, and theft, and barrators and panders and like trash.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
Fraud, by which every conscience is bitten, A man may practice on a person who trusts him Or upon one who has no confidence in him.
This latter mode cuts only the bond of love Which nature itself establishes; And so there are, lodged in the second circle,
Hypocrisy, flatterers, and those who delude, Falsity, thieving and simony, Pimps, trouble-makers, and all such-like scum.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
Fraud, which bites every conscience, a man may play
Either on one who trusts him, or one who does not. The latter of the two is seen to destroy Only those bonds of love that nature makes:
So in the second circle hypocrisy, Flatterers, sorcery, larceny, simoniacs, With pimps, barrators, and such filth have their nest.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), ll. 53-59]
Fraud, which bites at every mind, a man can use against one who trusts in him or against one who has in his purse no cause for trust. This latter mode seems to cut solely into the bond of love that Nature makes; thus in the second circle find their nest hypocrisy, flattery, casters of spells, impersonators, thievery and simony, panders, embezzlers, and similar filth.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
Human beings may practise deceit, which gnaws at every conscience, on one who trusts them, or on one who places no trust. This latter form of fraud only severs the bond of love that Nature created, and so, in the eighth circle, are nested hypocrisy; sorcery; flattery; cheating; theft and selling of holy orders; pimps; corrupters of public office; and similar filth.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
As for deceit -- which gnaws all rational minds -- we practise this on those who trust in us, or those whose pockets have no room for trust.
Fraud of the second kind will only gash the ligature of love that Nature forms: and therefore in great Circle Two there nests
smarm and hypocrisy, the casting-up of spells, impersonation, thievery, crooked priests, embezzlement and pimping, such like scum.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
Fraud gnaws at every conscience, whether used on him who trusted or on one who lacked such faith.
Fraud against the latter only severs the bond of love that nature makes. Thus in the second circle nest
hypocrisy, flatteries, and sorcerers; lies, theft, and simony; panders, barrators, and all such filth.[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
Fraud will gnaw at the conscience, but a man may bury His heart and cheat the people who believe in him -- But trust's not needed, just opportunity.
This sinning slices away the soft-tied tether Of love, prepared for us by Nature. The second Circle is therefore a nest for flatterers
And hypocrites and liars, and those who press Illiterate fools for high Church office, well-paid For their filthy work, and bawds, and all such festering
Sores.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Fraud eats the conscience, whether used against
Those who trust us, or those who trust us not.
In the latter case, the bonds of love dispensed
By nature are undone. Thus you have got,
In Circle Eight, toadies and hypocrites,
Magicians, forgers, thieves, thugs, dealers in
Holy preferment, everything that fits
The definition of sheer filth.
[tr. James (2013)]
Of all malice that makes of Heaven a foe The end is injury, and all such end won By force or fraud worketh another’s woe.
But since fraud is a vice of man’s alone, It more offends God: so are lowest set The fraudulent, and the heavier is their groan.
[D’ogne malizia, ch’odio in cielo acquista,
ingiuria è ‘l fine, ed ogne fin cotale
o con forza o con frode altrui contrista.
Ma perché frode è de l’uom proprio male,
più spiace a Dio; e però stan di sotto
li frodolenti, e più dolor li assale.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 11, l. 22ff (11.22-27) [Virgil] (1320) [tr. Binyon (1943)]
(Source)
Of ev'ry Vice which odious is in Heav'n
To injure is the purport, and the end;
Either by Force, or Fraud. But as to Man
Fraud is peculiar, it more God offends:
Therefore the fraudulent are lower plac'd,
And greater punishment and pains endure.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 21ff]
Above the Sons of Violence reside, The bands of Fraud below together hide; (Vile Fraud! The heav'n-born soul's peculiar blot!)
For this, in fiercer pains, the traitors keep Their horrid vigils far in yonder deep; Hated of Heav'n, and fill the lowest lot.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 5]
Of all malicious act abhorr’d in heaven,
The end is injury; and all such end
Either by force or fraud works other’s woe
But fraud, because of man peculiar evil,
To God is more displeasing; and beneath
The fraudulent are therefore doom’d to’ endure
Severer pang.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Of each malicious act, abhorred on high. Injustice is the end: for others' woe Must all such ends or force or fraud apply.
But fraud in man his proper vice doth show, To God more odious; wherefore deeper here The fraudful sink, and mourn a sharper throe.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Of all malice, which gains hatred in Heaven, the end is injury; and every such end, either by force or by fraud, aggrieveth others. But because fraud is a vice peculiar to man, it more displeases God; and therefore the fraudulent are placed beneath, and more pain assails them.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Of evil deed, that's stamped with hate in heaven, Is injury the end. Each end's attained With force or fraud, by which another's pained.
Since fraud is then the native ill of man, It more displeases God; beneath the vault, The fraudulent the deeper pains assault.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Of ev'ry malice which just heav'n abhors,
To injure is the end; and each such end,
Either by force or fraud, makes others grieve.
But since of man fraud is the proper sin,
More it displeases God; and so beneath
Are plac'd the fraudulent with heavier pains.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
Of every malice that wins hate in Heaven,
Injury is the end; and all such end
Either by force or fraud afflicteth others.
But because fraud is man's peculiar vice,
More it displeases God; and so stand lowest
The fraudulent, and greater dole assails them.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
Of every badness which earns hatred in heaven, injury is the end; and every such end either by force or by fraud causes grief to another. But because fraud is an ill peculiar to man, it more displeases God; and for this cause the fraudulent have their station below, and woe assails them more.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Of every malice that in Heaven wins hate The end is injury, and each such plan By force or fraud on some wreaks woeful fate.
Since fraud is ill peculiar unto man God it displeases more, and hence more low The fraudulent are doomed to greater pain.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Of every malice that wins hate in heaven injury is the end, and every such end afflicts others either by force or by fraud. But because fraud is the peculiar sin of man, it most displeaseth God; and therefore the fraudulent are the lower, and more woe assails them.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Of every evil act that earneth hate in Heaven, the end is injury; and every such end, by either violence or fraud, heapeth sorrow upon others. But forasmuch as fraud is man's peculiar vice, it is the more displeasing unto God ; and therefore they who dealt in fraud are set beneath, and greater is the torture that doth afflict them.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
All wickedness that lays up hate in heaven
Injustice hath for end, and such end alway,
Either by force or fraud, afflicts another:
But, seeing that fraud is man's peculiar evil,
More it displeases God: therefore are lowest
The fraudulent, and greater woe assails them.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
Every kind of wickedness that gains the hatred of Heaven has injustice for its end, and every such end afflicts someone either by force or fraud; but because fraud is sin peculiar to man it is more offensive to God, and for that reason the fraudulent have their place lower nad more pain assails them.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Of all malicious wrong that earns Heaven's hate The end is injury; all such ends are won Either by force or fraud. Both perpetuate
Evil to others; but since man alone Is capable of fraud, God hates that worst; The fraudulent lie lowest, then and groan
Deepest.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
Malice is the sin most hated by God
And the aim of malice is to injure others
whether by fraud or violence. But since fraud
is the vice fo which man alone is capable,
God loathes it most. Therefore, the fraudulent
are place below, and their torment is more painful.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
Of every malice that gains hatred in Heaven the end is injustice; and every such end, either by force or by fraud, afflicts another. But because fraud is an evil peculiar to man, it more displeases God, and therefore the fraudulent are the lower, and more pain assails them.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
All malice has injustice as its end,
an end achieved by violence or by fraud;
while both are sins that earn the hate of Heaven,
since fraud belongs exclusively to man,
God hates it more and, therefore, far below,
the fraudulent are placed and suffer most.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
Of every malice that earns hate in Heaven,
injustice is the end; and each such end
by force or fraud brings harm to other men.
However, fraud is man's peculiar vice;
God finds it more displeasing -- and therefore,
the fraudulent are lower, suffering more.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
The object of all malice, which earns heaven's hatred,
Is injury; every object of that kind
Causes distress to others by force or fraud.
And because fraud is an evil peculiar to men,
It displeases God the more; and therefore the fraudulent
are placed beneath and greater pain assail them.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
The end of every wickedness that feels
Heaven's s hatred is injustice -- and each end
Of this kind, whether by force or fraud, afflicts
Some other person. But since fraud is found
In humankind as its peculiar vice,
It angers God more: so the fraudulent
Are lower, and suffer more unhappiness.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 21ff]
Of every malice gaining the hatred of Heaven, injustice is the goal, and efvery such goal injures someone either with force or with fraud. But because fraud is an evil proper to man, it is more displeasing to God; and therefore the fraudulent have a lower place and greater pain assails them.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
The outcome of all maliciousness, that Heaven hates, is harm: and every such outcome, hurts others, either by force or deceit. But because deceit is a vice peculiar to human beings, it displeases God more, and therefore the fraudulent are placed below, and more pain grieves them.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Malice is aimed in all its forms -- and thus incurs the hatred of Heaven -- at gross injustice, and, aiming so, harms others, by deceit or force.
Deceit, though, is specifically a human wrong, and hence displeases God the more. Liars are therefore deeper down, and tortured worse.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
Every evil deed despised in Heaven
has as its end injustice. Each such end
harms someone else through either force or fraud.
But since the vice of fraud is man's alone,
it more displeases God, and thus the fraudulent
are lower down, assailed by greater pain.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
Hated by Heaven, every conscious
sin will end in injustice, and each new sin,
By force or fraud, creates the same result.
But since such fraud is a sin unique to men,
God hates it more. So sinners guilty of fraud
Go farther down, and deeper pain attacks them.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Crimes Heaven hates have for their end Injustice, and that end afflicts someone
Either by force or fraud, and must offend The Lord, for fraud is human, and ills done
By humans please Him least, and therefore they, The tricksters, lie down and suffer more.
[tr. James (2013)]
A physician would not cure his patients more effectually if he were angry with them for being ill, and the criminal law is not more effective when it is inspired by anger against the criminal. The criminal presents a problem, psychological, educational, sociological, and economic; this difficult problem is not best handled in a state of blind rage. All arguments for corporal punishment spring from anger, not from scientific understanding. As men become more scientific, such barbaric practices will be no longer tolerated.
Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) English mathematician and philosopher
“On corporal punishment,” New York American (1932-09-07)
(Source)
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] (1320) [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)]
Cerberus, cruel and uncouth monster, there Stretches his three throats out and hound-like bays Over the people embogged about his lair.
His beard is slobbered black, his red eyes blaze, His belly is big, his hands clawed; and with growl The spirits he clutches, rends piecemeal and flays.
[Cerbero, fiera crudele e diversa, con tre gole caninamente latra sovra la gente che quivi è sommersa.
Li occhi ha vermigli, la barba unta e atra, e ’l ventre largo, e unghiate le mani; graffia li spirti ed iscoia ed isquatra.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 6, l. 13ff (6.13-18) (1309) [tr. Binyon (1943)]
(Source)
Inspired by Virgil's description of Cerberus in Aeneid, Book 6, l. 417ff, colored by the beast's role over the Gluttonous in this circle of Hell. (
Cerb'rus, a beast implacable and fierce,
Incessant's barking with his triple throat
At the poor wretches who are here confin'd.
His eyes are fiery read, his greasy Beard
Is black and nasty, and his Belly's swoln.
He the Sprites scratches with his hooked claws,
Flays off their skins, and into quarters tears.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 12ff]
Hell's bloodhound there his triple form extends. And ever and anon the savage rends Some wand'ring wretch, and dyes his fangs in gore;
His flaming eyes the troubled deep survey. Loud gnash his teeth and hold the damn'd at bay, Whose captive bands in vain his rage deplore.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 3]
Cerberus, cruel monster, fierce and strange, Through his wide threefold throat barks as a dog Over the multitude immers’d beneath.
His eyes glare crimson, black his unctuous beard, His belly large, and claw’d the hands, with which He tears the spirits, flays them, and their limbs
Piecemeal disparts.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Cerberus, a ruthless beast of uncouth mould, Barks hell-hound like, with triple gorge and grim, O'er those whom yonder slough engulphed doth hold.
Red are his eyes, black and of greasy trim His beard, and huge his paunch ; his clawed hands quell The mangled sprites; he flays, and limb from limb
Rends them.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Cerberus, a monster fierce and strange, with three throats, barks dog-like over those that are immersed in it. His eyes are red, his beard [greasy] and black, his belly wide, and clawed his hands; he clutches the spirits, flalys, and piecemeal rends them.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Cerberus -- wild beast, cruel, monstrous -- While as three throats the dog of famine urge, To bark o'er those the waters thus submerge:
His eyes vermilion, unctuous beard and black; His belly large, and claws upon each hand -- Cuts, flays, and quarters spirits at command.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
The monster Cerberus, cruel, fierce and strange, Barks like a dog from out his triple throat over the multitude sumergèd there.
With eyes vermilion, black and filthy beard, With belly large, with sharp and piercing claws He tears those spirits, flays, dismembers them.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
Cerberus, monster cruel and uncouth,
With his three gullets like a dog is barking Over the people that are there submerged.
Red eyes he has, and unctuous beard and black, And belly large, and armed with claws his hands; He rends the spirits, flays, and quarters them.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
Cerberus, beast cruel and uncouth, with three throats barks in dog-wise over the folk that there is submerged. Scarlet eyes has he, and his beard greasy and black, and his belly large, and his paws armed with nails. He claws the spirits, mouths them and tears them up.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Wild Cerberus, of twofold nature rare. With three throats hurleth out the doglike bark Upon the people that are cowering there.
His eyes are red, his greasy beard is dark. His belly large and fingers armed with nails; He tears, and flays, and rends the spirits stark.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Cerberus, a beast cruel and monstrous, with three throats barks doglike above the people that are here submerged. He has vermilion eyes, and a greasy and black beard, and a big belly, and hands armed with claws: he tears the spirits, flays them, and rends them.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Cerberus, the pitiless and outlandish beast, barks in dog-like fashion through triple throat above the souls that lie immersed there. Red are the eyes he hath, his beard foul and black, his belly gross, and his paws armed with talons. He claws the shades, he flayeth and he teareth them.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
Cerberus, cruel and misshapen monster, Barketh with triple throat in doglike fashion Over the folk which in that place is sunken.
Vermilion eyes he hath, beard black and greasy. And belly wide, and hands arrayed with talons. The spirits he doth scratch, and flay and quarter.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
Cerberus, a beast fierce and hideous, with three throats barks like a dog over the people that are immersed there; he has red eyes, a beard greasy and black, a great belly, and clawed hands, and he scars and flays and rends the spirits.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Cerberus, the cruel, misshapen monster, there Bays in his triple gullet and doglike growls Over the wallowing shades; his eyeballs glare
A bloodshot crimson, and his bearded jowls Are greasy and black; pot-bellied, talon-heeled, He clutches and flays and rips and rends the souls.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
Here monstrous Cerberus, the ravening beast, howls through his triple throats like a mad dog over the spirits sunk in that foul paste.
His eyes are red, his beard is greased with phlegm, His belly is swollen, and his hands are claws to rip the wretches and flay and mangle them.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
Cerberus, monstrous beast and cruel, with three throats barks doglike over the people who are here submerged. His eyes are red, his beard greasy and black, his belly wide and his hands taloned; he claws the spirits, flays and quarters them.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
Cerberus, a ruthless and fantastic beast, with all three throats howls out his dog-like sounds above the drowning sinners of this place.
His eyes are red, his beard is slobbered black, his belly swollen, and he has claws for hands; he rips the spirits, flays and mangles them.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
Over the souls of those submerged beneath that mess, is an outlandish, vicious beast, his three throats barking, doglike: Cerberus.
His eyes are blood red; greasy, black, his beard; his belly bulges, and his hands are claws; his talons tear and flay and rend the shades.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
Cerberus, a cruel and outlandish beast, Barks like a dog, from his three throats, at those Who, under that downpour, are there submerged.
His eyes are red, his beard greasy and black, His belly huge, and his fingers are clawed. He scratches the spirits, skins them, pulls them to bits.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
Three-headed Cerberus, monstrous and cruel,
Barks doglike at the souls immersed here, louder For his triple throat. His eyes are red, his beard Grease-black, he has the belly of a meat-feeder
And talons on his hands: he claws the horde Of spirits, he flays and quarters them in the rain.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
Cerberus, cruel, monstrous beast, with three throats barks doglike over the people submerged there. His eyes are red, his beard greasy and black, his belly large, and his hands have talons; he claws the spirits, flays and quarters them.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
Cerberus, the fierce and strange monster, triple-throated, barks dog-like over the people submerged in it. His eyes are crimson, his beard is foul and black, his belly vast, and his limbs are clawed: he snatches the spirits, flays, and quarters them.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Here Cerberus conducts his strange assize: with all three throats he barks and slabbers at the muck-bound prisoners he triple-tries.
His eyes are red, his jowls black, his belly fat; he takes each soul and skins it with his claws then rips it into little bits thereat.
[tr. Carson (2002)]
Cerberus, weird and monstrously cruel, barks from his triple throats in cur-like yowls over the heads of those who lie here, drowned.
His eyes vermilion, beard a greasy black, his belly broad, his fingers all sharp-nailed, he mauls and skins, then hacks in four, these souls.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
Cerberus, fierce and monstrous beast, barks from three gullets like a dog over the people underneath that muck.
His eyes are red, his beard a greasy black, his belly swollen. With his taloned hands he claws the spirits, flays and quarters them.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
Three-headed Cerberus, monstrous beast, roams here; A cruel creature who barks, dog-like, out Of each of his mouths, at people half-drowned, submerged.
His eyes are red, his beard is black and foul, His belly broad, there are talons on his hands; He claws the spirits, rips at their skin, bites holes.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Savage and bestial Cerberus, three-headed freak, Barks like a Doberman -- through each of his three throats -- Over those who are forced to wallow in the slop.
Red eyes, filthy bilious whiskers, swollen belly; With his claws hge excoriates the ghosts -- Then rips their skin off and quarters them.
[tr. Bang (2012)]
The people stuck in it have Cerberus
To guard them. Overhead, that creature shrieks
In anger with three mouths, each hideous
As a mad dog's. Beards greasy black, eyes red,
Big belly, fingers well supplied with nails,
Hed scores and scrapes and tears them to a shred.
[tr. James (2013), l. 14ff]
And even when life is over, all the evil
Ingrained so long, the adulterated mixture,
The plagues and pestilences of the body
Remain, persist. So there must be a cleansing,
By penalty, by punishment, by fire,
By sweep of wind, by water’s absolution,
Before the guilt is gone. Each of us suffers
His own peculiar ghost.
[Quin et supremo cum lumine vita reliquit,
non tamen omne malum miseris nec funditus omnes
corporeae excedunt pestes, penitusque necesse est
multa diu concreta modis inolescere miris.
Ergo exercentur poenis, veterumque malorum
supplicia expendunt: aliae panduntur inanes
suspensae ad ventos; aliis sub gurgite vasto
infectum eluitur scelus, aut exuritur igni;
quisque suos patimur Manes.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 6, l. 735ff (6.735-743) [Anchises] (29-19 BC) [tr. Humphries (1951)]
(Source)
Souls in the underworld purging their spirits so that they can enter Elysium. The Manes were minor underworld deities and/or the spirits of deceased ancestors.
But when their latest light and life is set,
Not all woes leave them, nor all tortures quite
Forsake the wretches there; and 'tis but right;
Things strangely grown by custome into crimes,
They must be punish'd for their mispent times,
And tortures feele; some in the winds are hung,
Others to clense their spotted sins are flung
In a vast gulph, or purg'd in fire they are:
We all have our own tortures.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
Nor can the groveling mind,
In the dark dungeon of the limbs confin'd,
Assert the native skies, or own its heav'nly kind:
Nor death itself can wholly wash their stains;
But long-contracted filth ev'n in the soul remains.
The relics of inveterate vice they wear,
And spots of sin obscene in ev'ry face appear.
For this are various penances enjoin'd;
And some are hung to bleach upon the wind,
Some plung'd in waters, others purg'd in fires,
Till all the dregs are drain'd, and all the rust expires
All have their manes, and those manes bear.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]
Even when with the last beams of light their life is gone, yet not every ill, nor all corporeal stains, are quite removed from the unhappy beings; and it is absolutely necessary that many imperfections which have long been joined to the soul should be in marvelous ways increased and riveted therin. Therefore are they afflicted with punishments, and pay the penalties of their former ills. Some, hung on high, are spread out to the empty winds; in others the guilt not done away is washed out ina vast watery abyss, or burned away in fire. We each endure his own manes.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]
Nay, when at last the life has fled,
And left the body cold and dead,
E'en then there passes not away
The painful heritage of clay;
Full many a long contracted stain
Perforce must linger deep in grain.
So penal sufferings they endure
For ancient crime, to make them pure:
Some hang aloft in open view
For winds to pierce them through and through,
While others purge their guilt deep-dyed
In burning fire or whelming tide.
Each for himself, we all sustain
The durance of our ghostly pain.
[tr. Conington (1866)]
Nor e'en when life's last ray
Has fled, does every ill depart, nor all
Corporeal taints quite leave their unhappy frames,
And needs must be that many a hardened fault
Inheres in wondrous ways. Therefore the pains
Of punishment they undergo, for sins
Of former times. Some in the winds are hung
Suspended and exposed. Others beneath
A waste of waters from their guilt are cleansed,
Or purified by fire. We all endure
Our ghostly retribution.
[tr. Cranch (1872), l. 918ff]
Nay, and when the last ray of life is gone, not yet, alas! does all their woe, nor do all the plagues of the body wholly leave them free; and needs must be that many a long ingrained evil should take root marvellously deep. Therefore they are schooled in punishment, and pay all the forfeit of a lifelong ill; some are hung stretched to the viewless winds; some have the taint of guilt washed out beneath the dreary deep, or burned away in fire. We suffer, each a several ghost.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]
Yea, e'en when out of upper day their life at last is borne,
Not all the ill of wretched men is utterly outworn,
Not all the bane their bodies bred; and sure in wondrous wise
The plenteous ill they bore so long engrained in them it lies:
So therefore are they worn by woes and pay for ancient wrong:
And some of them are hung aloft the empty winds among;
And some, their stain of wickedness amidst the water's heart
Is washed away; amidst the fire some leave their worser part;
And each his proper death must bear.
[tr. Morris (1900), l. 734ff]
Nor can the soul, in darkness and in chains,
Assert the skies, and claim celestial birth.
Nay, after death, the traces it retains
Of fleshly grossness, and corporeal stains,
Since much must needs by long concretion grow
Inherent. Therefore are they racked with pains,
And schooled in all the discipline of woe;
Each pays for ancient sin with punishment below.
Some hang before the viewless winds to bleach;
Some purge in fire or flood the deep decay
And taint of wickedness. We suffer each
Our ghostly penance.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 97-98, l. 866ff]
Nor when to life's last beam they bid farewell
May sufferers cease from pain, nor quite be freed
From all their fleshly plagues; but by fixed law,
The strange, inveterate taint works deeply in.
For this, the chastisement of evils past
Is suffered here, and full requital paid.
Some hang on high, outstretched to viewless winds;
For some their sin's contagion must be purged
In vast ablution of deep-rolling seas,
Or burned away in fire. Each man receives
His ghostly portion in the world of dark.
[tr. Williams (1910)]
Nay, when at their last day life is fled, still not all the evil, alas! not all the plagues of the body quit them utterly; and it must needs be that many a taint, long linked in growth, should in wondrous wise become deeply ingrained. Therefore are they schooled with penalties, and for olden sins pay punishment: some are hung stretched out to the empty winds; from some the stain of guilt is washed away under swirling floods or burned out in fire. Each of us suffers his own spirit.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]
Yes, not even when the last flicker of life has left us,
Does evil, or the ills that flesh is heir to, quite
Relinquish our souls; it must be that many a taint grows deeply,
Mysteriously grained in their being from long contact with the body.
Therefore the dead are disciplined in purgatory, and pay
The penalty of old evil: some hang, stretched ot the blast of
Vacuum winds; for others, the stain of sin is washed
Away in a vast whirlpool or cauterized with fire.
Each of us finds in the next world his own level.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]
And when the final day of life deserts them,
then, even then, not every ill, not all
the plagues of body quit them utterly;
and this must be, for taints so long congealed
cling fast and deep in extraordinary
ways. Therefore they are schooled by punishment
and pay with torments for their own misdeeds:
some there are purified by air, suspended
and stretched before the empty winds; for some
the stain of guilt is washed away beneath
a mighty whirlpool or consumed by fire.
First each of us must suffer his own Shade.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 970ff]
In fact
Even when life departs on the last day
Not all the scourges of the body pass
From the poor souls, not all distress of life.
Inevitably, many malformations,
Growing together in mysterious ways,
Become inveterate. Therefore they undergo
The discipline of punishments and pay
In penance for old sins: some hang full length
To the empty winds, for some the stain of wrong
Is washed by floods or burned away by fire.
We suffer each his own shade.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981), l. 988ff]
Even when life leaves them on their last day of light, they are not wholly freed from all the many ills and miseries of the body which must harden in them over the long years and become ingrained in ways we cannot understand. And so they are put to punishment, to pay the penalty for all their ancient sins. Some are stretched and hung out empty to dry in the winds. Some have the stain of evil washed out of them under a vast tide of water or scorched out by fire. Each of us suffers his own fate in the after-life.
[tr. West (1990)]
Why, when life leaves them at the final hour,
still all of the evil, all the plagues of the flesh, alas,
have not completely vanished, and many things, long hardened
deep within, must of necessity be ingrained, in strange ways.
So they are scourged by torments, and pay the price
for former sins: some are hung, stretched out,
to the hollow winds, the taint of wickedness is cleansed
for others in vast gulfs, or burned away with fire:
each spirit suffers its own.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Nor, when the last gleam
Of life flickers out, are all the ills
That flesh is heir to completely uprooted.
But many corporal taints remain,
Ingrained in the soul in myriad ways.
And so we are disciplined and expiate
Our bygone sins. Some souls are hung
Spread to the winds; others are cleansed
Under swirling waters or purged by fire.
We each suffer our own ghosts.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]
True,
but even on that last day, when the light of life departs,
the wretches are not completely purged of all the taints,
nor are they wholly freed of all the body’s plagues.
Down deep they harden fast -- they must, so long engrained
in the flesh -- in strange, uncanny ways. And so the souls
are drilled in punishments, they must pay for their old offenses.
Some are hung splayed out, exposed to the empty winds,
some are plunged in the rushing floods -- their stains,
their crimes scoured off or scorched away by fire.
Each of us must suffer his own demanding ghost.
[tr. Fagles (2006), l. 849ff]
Poor things, even when life leaves them on the day of death, not every sin or canker of the flesh fully recedes. Many habits harden over time, and in this way become ingrained. So they pay for former crimes by torment: exposed to hollow winds by crucifixion, washed clean of infection in a whirling flood, or cauterized by fire -- we all suffer our soul's cure.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]
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]
The interest of the people as a whole [lies] in being able to join organizations, advocate causes, and make political “mistakes” without later being subjected to governmental penalties for having dared to think for themselves.
Hugo Black (1886-1971) American politician and jurist, US Supreme Court Justice (1937-71) Barenblatt v. United States, 360 U.S. 109, 144 (1959) [dissent]
(Source)
We should take care also that the punishment shall not be out of proportion to the offence, and that some shall not be chastised for the same fault for which others are not even called to account.
[Cavendum est etiam, ne maior poena quam culpa sit, et ne isdem de causis alii plectantur, alii ne appellentur quidem.]
Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher De Officiis [On Duties; On Moral Duty; The Offices], Book 1, ch. 25 (1.25) / sec. 89 (44 BC) [tr. Miller (1913)]
(Source)
Diligent care should be taken, in the next place, that the penalty be proportioned to the nature of the crime; and that some do not pass without ever being questioned, while others are punished for the same misdemeanours.
[tr. Cockman (1699)]
Great care too must be taken, that the punishment be not greater than the offence; and that some should not be punished for the same offences, for which others are not called to account.
[tr. McCartney (1798)]
We ought, likewise, to take care that the punishment be proportioned to the offence, and that some be not punished for doing things for which others are not so much as called to account.
[tr. Edmonds (1865)]
Care also must be taken lest the punishment be greater than the fault, and lest for the same cause some be made penally responsible, and others not even called to account.
[tr. Peabody (1883)]
Again, we should never impose a penalty disproportioned to the offence or for the same crime punish one and let another go unchallenged.
[tr. Gardiner (1899)]
We must take care that the punishment is not in excess of the crime, and that it is not inflicted on some only while others equally guilty are not even brought to trial.
[ed. Harbottle (1906)]
One should also be careful that the punishment does not surpass the crime and that some people receive beatings while others do not even receive a reprimand.
[tr. Edinger (1974)]
He that has light within his own clear breast
May sit i’th center, and enjoy bright day,
But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts
Benighted walks under the mid-day sun;
Himself is his own dungeon.
John Milton (1608-1674) English poet A Mask Presented at Ludlow Castle, ll. 380-84 (1634)
(Source)
The title was changed to Comus for the 1737 stage version.
Then forth they led Melanthius, and began
Their bloody work; they lopp’d away the man,
Morsel for dogs! then trimm’d with brazen shears
The wretch, and shorten’d of his nose and ears;
His hands and feet last felt the cruel steel:
He roar’d, and torments gave his soul to hell.
They wash, and to Ulysses take their way:
So ends the bloody business of the day.
Homer (fl. 7th-8th C. BC) Greek author The Odyssey [Ὀδύσσεια], Book 22, l. 474ff (22.474) (c. 700 BC) [tr. Pope (1725)]
(Source)
Telemachus and company executing the treacherous goatherd, Melanthius, the last of the deaths on Odysseus' homecoming. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:
Then fetch’d they down Melanthius, to fulfill
The equal execution; which was done
In portal of the hall, and thus begun:
They first slit both his nostrils, cropp’d each ear,
His members tugg’d off, which the dogs did tear
And chop up bleeding sweet; and, while red-hot
The vice-abhorring blood was, off they smote
His hands and feet; and there that work had end.
Then wash’d they hands and feet that blood had stain’d,
And took the house again.
[tr. Chapman (1616)]
Then down they dragg’d Melantheus, and his nose
And ears with cruel steel from ’s head they tear,
And brake his arms and legs with many blows,
And to the dogs to eat they throw his gear.
Their work now done, they wash’d their hands and feet,
And to Ulysses in the hall they went,
[tr. Hobbes (1675), l. 417]
And now through vestibule and hall
They led Melanthius forth. With ruthless steel
They pared away his ears and nose, pluck’d forth
His parts of shame, destin’d to feed the dogs,
And, still indignant, lopp’d his hands and feet.
Then, laving each his feet and hands, they sought
Again Ulysses; all their work was done,
[tr. Cowper (1792), l. 548ff]
Then to the courtyard they Melanthius draw,
Lop with knife his nose and ears, and cast
His manhood to the dogs, to eat up raw,
And his limbs dock with iron -- for so vast
Burned the grim wrath within them. At the last,
Washed in pure water, and with hands and feet
Clean from the red gore, to the king they passed;
And all was over, and the work complete.
[tr. Worsley (1861), st. 57]
Then dragged they Melanthius forth to the porch and courtyard:
From him nose and ears with the ruthless brass
They sheared: and threw his manhood to the dogs:
And chopped off his hands and feet in vengeful rage!
This done, they washed their hands and feet; and hied
To Odysseus int he house: and the work was done.
[tr. Bigge-Wither (1869)]
Melantius
Was through the corridor and hall led out.
The armed men his nostrils and his ears
With pitiless blade excis'd: his very groin
Was to the rav'nous maw of hounds laid bare;
And both his hands and feet, -- so hotly raged
Avenging wrath! -- were from his body hewn.
Telemachus, at length, and both the herds
When they their hands and feet by blood defil'd
Had in ablusion cleans'd, the house regain'd
And there Ulysses join'd. The work had now
Its full completion reach'd.
[tr. Musgrave (1869), l. 755ff]
Then they led out Melanthius through the doorway and the court, and cut off his nostrils and his ears with the pitiless sword, and drew forth his vitals for the dogs to devour raw, and cut off his hands and feet in their cruel anger. Thereafter they washed their hands and feet, and went into the house to Odysseus, and all the adventure was over.
[tr. Butcher/Lang (1879)]
Then did they bring Melanthius through the port and into the court,
And they cropped with the ruthless brass the ears and the nose from his face,
And drew out his privy parts for the dogs to eat raw in the place,
And hewed off his hands and his feet in their fierce and fell intent.
Then their hands and their feet they washed, and into the house they went,
And came unto Odysseus, and done was the work of the day.
[tr. Morris (1887)]
Then forth they led Melanthius across the porch and yard. With ruthless sword they lopped off his nose and and ears, pulled out his bowels to be eaten raw by dogs, and in their rage cut off his hands and feet. Afterwards, washing clean their own hands and their feet, they went to meet Odysseus in the house, and all the work was done.
[tr. Palmer (1891)]
As for Melanthius, they took him through the cloister into the inner court. There they cut off his nose and his ears; they drew out his vitals and gave them to the dogs raw, and then in their fury they cut off his hands and his feet. When they had done this they washed their hands and feet and went back into the house, for all was now over.
[tr. Butler (1898)]
As for Melanthios, they took him through the room into the inner court. There they cut off his nose and his ears; they drew out his vitals and gave them to the dogs raw, and then in their fury they cut off his hands and his feet. When they had done this they washed their hands and feet and went back into the house, for all was now over.
[tr. Butler (1898), rev. Power/Nagy]
Then forth they led Melanthius through the doorway and the court, and cut off his nostrils and his ears with the pitiless bronze, and drew out his vitals for the dogs to eat raw, and cut off his hands and his feet in their furious wrath. Thereafter they washed their hands and feet, and went into the house to Odysseus, and the work was done.
[tr. Murray (1919)]
Melanthius they dragged through the entry and the court, sliced his nose and ears with their cruel swords and tore out his privates, which they fed raw to the dogs. Their spite made them also cut off his hands and feet, after which they rinsed their own feet and hands and rejoined Odysseus in the house, all their achievement perfected.
[tr. Lawrence (1932)]
Next Melanthius was dragged out across the court and through the gate. There with a sharp knife they sliced his nose and ears off; they ripped away his privy parts as raw meat for the dogs, and in their fury they lopped off his hands and feet. Then, after washing their own hands and feet, they went back indoors to Odysseus and the business was finished.
[tr. Rieu (1946)]
From the storeroom to the court they brought Melanthios, chopped with swords to cut his nose and ears off, pulled off his genitals to feed the dogs and raging hacked his hands and feet away. As their own hands and feet called for a washing, they went indoors to Odysseus again. Their work was done.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1961)]
They took Melanthios along the porch and the courtyard.
They cut off, with the pitiless bronze, his nose and his ears,
tore off his private parts and gave them to the dogs to feed on
raw, and lopped off his hands and feet, in fury of anger.
Then, after they had washed their own hands and feet clean,
they went into the house of Odysseus. Their work was ended.
[tr. Lattimore (1965)]
Melanthius was led outside the door into the court; with savage bronze they hacked off both his ears and nose, cut off his genitals -- a raw meal for the dogs -- and then, with frenzied hearts, hacked off his hands and feet. Their work complete, as soon as they had washed their hands and feet, again they joined Odysseus in the house.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1990)]
Melanthius?
They hauled him out through the doorway, into the court,
lopped his nose and ears with a ruthless knife,
tore his genitals out for the dogs to eat raw
and in manic fury hacked off hands and feet. Then,
once they'd washed their own hands and feet,
they went inside again to join Odysseus.
Their work was done with now.
[tr. Fagles (1996)]
Then they brought Melanthius outside,
And in their fury they sliced off
His nose and ears with cold bronze
And pulled his genitals out by the root --
Raw meat for the dogs -- and chopped off
His hands and feet. This done,
They washed their own hands and feet
And went back into their master's great hall.
[tr. Lombardo (2000), l. 498ff]
Leading Melánthios out to the portico, then to the courtyard,
there with the pitiless bronze they cut off his nose and his ears, then
tore out his privates and gave them raw to the dogs to be eaten,
also chopped off his hands and his feet in the wrath of their spirits.
Finally, when they had cleansed their hands and their feet of the carnage,
they went into the house of Odysseus; the labor was finished.
[tr. Merrill (2002)]
Next they dragged Melanthius out through the hall entrance and across the court. There with a pitiless knife they sliced his nose and ears off; they ripped away his genitals as raw meat for the dogs, and in their fury they lopped off his hands and feet. Then, after washing their own hands and feet, they went back indoors to Odysseus and the business was finished.
[tr. DCH Rieu (2002)]
Then they dragged Melanthius out through the door into the yard, and with the pitiless bronze sliced off his nose and ears, tore away his genitals to be raw meat for the dogs to eat, and in their raging fury lopped off his hands and feet as well. After this they scoured the gore from their hands and feet, and went into the house to meet Odysseus, their work done.
[tr. Verity (2016)]
Then the men took Melanthius outside and with curved bronze cut off his nose and ears and ripped away his genitals, to feed raw to the dogs. Still full of rage, they chopped his hands and feet off. Then they washed their own, and they went back inside.
[tr. Wilson (2017)]
Then they brought out Melanthios, ripped out his genitals and fed them to the dogs, and cut off all his extremities. That done, they washed off their hands and feet, and went back in. The work was done.
[tr. Green (2018)]
Then they brought Melanthius out through the doorway
into the yard. With pitiless bronze they sliced off
his nose and ears, then ripped off his cock and balls
as raw meat for dogs to eat, and in their fury
hacked off his hands and feet. After they’d done that,
they washed their hands and feet and went inside the house,
returning to Odysseus. Their work was finished.
[tr. Johnston (2019), l. 586ff]
Out of instinct for self-preservation, and logically enough, [the mind] asks, “If it is a good and holy thing to be punished, must it not also be a good and holy thing to punish?” It answers that it is; and our earth becomes the hell it is. Thus we human beings plant in ourselves the perennial blossom of cruelty — the conviction that if we hurt other people we are doing good to ourselves and to life in general.
Rebecca West (1892-1983) British author, journalist, literary critic, travel writer [pseud. for Cicily Isabel Fairfield]
“Pleasure Be Your Guide,” The Nation, “Living Philosophies” series #10 (25 Feb 1939)
(Source)
Adapted into Clifton Fadiman, I Believe: The Personal Philosophies of Certain Eminent Men and Women of Our Time (1952).
WATCHMAN:
Sir, I am here. I can’t say I am out of breath.
I have not exactly been “running on light feet.”
I halted many times along the road so I could think,
And I almost turned around and marched right back.
My mind kept talking to me. It said, “You poor guy,
Why are you going there? You’ll just get your ass kicked.”
Then it said, “Are you stopping again, you damn fool?
If Creon hears this from another man, he’ll give you hell.”
Well, I turned this idea up and down like that,
And I hurried along, real slow. Made a short trip long.
SENTINEL:
My liege, I cannot say that from very haste I come panting for breath, having stept out with nimble paces. Troth: I have had many half-way houses of cogitation, wheeling about after every fresh start as though I would return. In fact, my soul often addressed me with some such tale as this:
Why goest, simpleton, where to be come is to be punished?" then again: "What! wilt not away, poor wretch? and if Kreon shall learn these tidings from some one else, how then wilt thou escape the penalty?" While thus my mind revolved, the speed I made was tardy in its swiftness: and so a short road is made long.
[tr. Donaldson (1848)]
GUARD:
My lord, I will not make pretense to pant
And puff as some light-footed messenger.
In sooth my soul beneath its pack of thought
Made many a halt and turned and turned again;
For conscience plied her spur and curb by turns.
"Why hurry headlong to thy fate, poor fool?"
She whispered. Then again, "If Creon learn
This from another, thou wilt rue it worse."
Thus leisurely I hastened on my road;
Much thought extends a furlong to a league.
[tr. Storr (1859)]
WATCHMAN:
My lord, I am out of breath, but not with speed.
I will not say my foot was fleet. My thoughts
Cried halt unto me ever as I came
And wheeled me to return. My mind discoursed
Most volubly within my breast, and said--
Fond wretch! why go where thou wilt find thy bane?
Unhappy wight! say, wilt thou bide aloof?
Then if the king shall hear this from another,
How shalt thou 'scape for 't? Winding thus about
I hasted, but I could not speed, and so
Made a long journey of a little way.
[tr. Campbell (1873)]
GUARD:
My king, I will not say that I arrive breathless because of speed, or from the action of a swift foot. For often I brought myself to a stop because of my thoughts, and wheeled round in my path to return. My mind was telling me many things: “Fool, why do you go to where your arrival will mean your punishment?” “Idiot, are you dallying again? If Creon learns it from another, must you not suffer for it?” So debating, I made my way unhurriedly, slow, and thus a short road was made long.
[tr. Jebb (1891)]
MESSENGER:
O King, I cannot boast that, hither sent,
I came with speed, for oft my troubled thoughts
Have driven me back; oft to myself I said,
Why dost thou seek destruction?
With doubts like these oppressed, slowly I came,
And the short way seemed like a tedious journey.
[tr. Werner (1892)]
GUARD:
My liege, I will not say that I come breathless from speed, or that I have plied a nimble foot; for often did my thoughts make me pause, and wheel round in my path, to return. My mind was holding large discourse with me; "Fool, why goest thou to thy certain doom?" "Wretch, tarrying again? And if Creon hears this from another, must not thou smart for it?" So debating, I went on my way with lagging steps, and thus a short road was made long.
[tr. Jebb (1917)]
SENTRY:
I'll not say that I'm out of breath from running, King, because every time I stopped to think about what I have to tell you, I felt like going back. And all the time a voice kept saying, "You fool, don't you know you're walking straight into trouble?"; and then another voice: "Yes, but if you let somebody else get the news to Creon first, it will be even worse than that for you!"
[tr. Fitts/Fitzgerald (1939)]
SENTRY:
My lord: if I am out of breath, it is not from haste.
I have not been running. On the contrary, many a time
I stopped to think and loitered on the way,
Saying to myself “Why hurry to your doom,
Poor fool?” and then I said, “Hurry, you fool.
If Creon hears this from another man,
Your head’s as good as off.” So here I am,
As quick as my unwilling haste could bring me;
In no great hurry, in fact.
[tr. Watling (1947), l. 183ff]
GUARD:
Lord, I can't claim that I am out of breath
from rushing here with light and hasty step,
for I had many haltings in my thought
making me double back upon my road.
My mind kept saying many things to me:
"Why go where you will surely pay the price?"
"Fool, are you halting? And if Creon learns
from someone else, how shall you not be hurt?"
Turning this over, on I dilly-dallied.
And so a short trip turns itself to long.
[tr. Wyckoff (1954)]
GUARD:
My lord: I cannot say that I am come
All out of breath with running. More than once
I stopped and thought and turned round in my path
And started to go back. My mind had much
To say to me. One time it said "You fool!
Why do you go to certain punishment?"
Another time "What? Standing still, you wretch?
You'll smart for it, if Creon comes to hear
From someone else." And so I went along
Debating with myself, not swift nor sure.
This way, a short road soon becomes a long one.
[tr. Kitto (1962)]
SENTRY:
My lord,
I can't say I'm winded from running, or set out
with any spring in my legs either -- no sir,
I was lost in thought, and it made me stop, often,
dead in my tracks, wheeling, turning back,
and all the time a voice inside me muttering,
"Idiot, why? You're going straight to your death."
Then muttering, "Stopped again, poor fool?
If somebody gets the news to Creon first,
what's to save your neck?" And so,
mulling it over, on I trudged, dragging my feet,
you can make a short road take forever ...
[tr. Fagles (1982), l. 248ff]
WATCHMAN:
Lord, I cannot say that I arrive breathless
from quickly lifting nimble feet.
In fact, I stopped many times to think,
whirling around on the roads to turn back.
My spirit kept talking to me and saying:
“Poor fool, why are you going to a place where
you will pay the penalty when you arrive? Wretch, are you
dawdling along again? If Creon learns about this
from someone else, how then will you not feel pain?”
As I rolled around such thoughts, I was gradually and
slowly completing the journey, and so a short road
became a long one.
[tr. Tyrell/Bennett (2002)]
GUARD: My King, I can’t really say that I’ve lost my breath by running my feet to the ground so as to get here as quickly as I could! No, I tarried. God knows I’ve stopped myself often enough, on the way here and I’ve almost turned back many times.
My soul, you see, was talking to me all the while and all the while it kept changing its mind: “poor man,” it would say one minute, “Why are you rushing to your suffering?” Or again, “Stupid man,” it would say, “why are you hanging about like this? What if the king hears it from someone else? What a mess you’d get yourself into then!”
Stuff like that was spinning about in my head and it made this small road so much longer!
GUARD:
My lord, I can’t say I’ve come out of breath
by running here, making my feet move fast.
Many times I stopped to think things over --
and then I’d turn around, retrace my steps.
My mind was saying many things to me,
“You fool, why go to where you know for sure
your punishment awaits?” -- “And now, poor man,
why are you hesitating yet again?
If Creon finds this out from someone else,
how will you escape being hurt?” Such matters
kept my mind preoccupied. And so I went,
slowly and reluctantly, and thus made
a short road turn into a lengthy one.
[tr. Johnston (2005), l. 256ff]
GUARD:
My lord, I will not say that I come breathless
from rushing or quickly moving my feet,
for often my thoughts stopped me in my place,
and I'd wheel around on the road back where I came.
My heart kept talking to me, telling me,
"Poor fool, why are you going where you're sure
to be punished?" "Idiot, you stopping
again? If Creon hears it from someone else,
then you'll really pay for it!" Twisting like this
I made my way, the opposite of hate,
and thus a short road became a long one.
[tr. Thomas (2005), l. 226ff]
A society which reverences the attainment of riches as the supreme felicity will naturally be disposed to regard the poor as damned in the next world, if only to justify making their life a hell in this.
R. H. Tawney (1880-1962) English writer, economist, historian, social critic [Richard Henry Tawney] Religion and the Rise of Capitalism, ch. 4: The Puritan Movement, sec. 4 “The New Medicine for Poverty” (1926)
(Source)
Originally delivered as Holland Lectures, Kings College (Feb-Mar 1922).
Wisdom is by far the greatest part of joy,
and reverence toward the gods must be safeguarded.
The mighty words of the proud are paid in full
with mighty blows of fate, and at long last
those blows will teach us wisdom.
Sophocles (496-406 BC) Greek tragic playwright Antigone, l. 1348ff [Chorus] (441 BC) [tr. Fagles (1982), l. 1466ff]
(Source)
Final lines of the play. Original Greek. Alternate translations:
Wisdom is first of the gifts of good fortune:
'Tis a duty, to be sure, the rites of the Gods
Duly to honor: but words without measure, the
Fruit of vain-glory, in woes without number their
Recompense finding,
Have lesson'd the agéd in wisdom.
[tr. Donaldson (1848)]
Of happiness the chiefest part
Is a wise heart:
And to defraud the gods in aught
With peril's fraught.
Swelling words of high-flown might
Mightily the gods do smite.
Chastisement for errors past
Wisdom brings to age at last.
[tr. Storr (1859)]
Wise conduct hath command of happiness
Before all else, and piety to Heaven
Must be preserved. High boastings of the proud
Bring sorrow to the height to punish pride: --
A lesson men shall learn when they are old.
[tr. Campbell (1873)]
Wisdom is provided as the chief part of happiness, and our dealings with the gods must be in no way unholy. The great words of arrogant men have to make repayment with great blows, and in old age teach wisdom.
[tr. Jebb (1891)]
Wisdom alone is man's true happiness.
We are not to dispute the will of heaven;
For ever are the boastings of the proud
By the just gods repaid, and man at last
Is taught to fear their anger and be wise.
[tr. Werner (1892)]
Wisdom is the supreme part of happiness; and reverence towards the gods must be inviolate. Great words of prideful men are ever punished with great blows, and, in old age, teach the chastened to be wise.
[tr. Jebb (1917)]
There is no happiness where there is no wisdom;
No wisdom but in submission to the gods.
Big words are always punished
And proud men in old age learn to be wise.
[tr. Fitts/Fitzgerald (1939), l. 1039ff]
Of happiness the crown
And chiefest part
Is wisdom, and to hold
The gods in awe.
This is the law
That, seeing the stricken heart
Of pride brought down,
We learn when we are old.
[tr. Watling (1947), Exodos, l. 1027ff]
Our happiness depends
on wisdom all the way.
The gods must have their due.
Great words by men of pride
bring greater blows upon them.
So wisdom comes to the old.
[tr. Wyckoff (1954)]
Of happiness, far the greatest part is wisdom,
and reverence towards the gods.
Proud words of arrogant man, in the end,
Meet punishment, great as his pride was great,
Till at last he is schooled in wisdom.
[tr. Kitto (1962)]
Wisdom is supreme for a blessed life,
And reference for the gods
Must never cease. Great words, sprung from arrogance.
Are punished by great blows.
So it is one learns, in old age, to be wise.
[tr. Woodruff (2001)]
By far is having sense the first part
of happiness. One must not act impiously toward
what pertains to gods. Big words
of boasting men,
paid for by big blows,
teach having sense in old age.
[tr. Tyrell/Bennett (2002)]
The most important thing in man’s happiness is good judgement and he must not treat with disdain the works of the gods.
The arrogant pay for their big proud words with great downfalls and it’s only then, in their old age that they gain wisdom!
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]
The most important part of true success
is wisdom -- not to act impiously
towards the gods, for boasts of arrogant men
bring on great blows of punishment --
so in old age men can discover wisdom.
[tr. Johnston (2005)]
Knowledge truly is by far the most important part of happiness, but one must neglect nothing that the gods demand. Great words of the over-proud balanced by great falls taught us knowledge in our old age.
[tr. Thomas (2005)]
To those who wish to punish others — or at least to see them punished, if the avengers are too cowardly to take matters into their own hands — the belief in a fiery, hideous hell appears to be a great source of comfort.
Steve Allen (1922-2000) American composer, entertainer, and wit. Steve Allen on the Bible, Religion, and Morality, “Hell” (1990)
(Source)
I was a model child. It was the teacher’s mistake I am sure. The box was drawn on the blackboard and the names of misbehaving children were written in it. As I adored my teacher, Miss Smith, I was destroyed to see my name appear. This was just the first of the many humiliations of my youth that I’ve tried to revenge through my writing. I have never fully exorcised shames that struck me to the heart as a child except through written violence, shadowy caricature, and dark jokes.
Louise Erdrich (b. 1954) American author, poet
Interview with Lisa Halliday, “The Art of Fiction” #208, The Paris Review (Winter 2010)
(Source)
On the inspiration behind Dot Adare's 1st Grade teacher putting her into the "naughty box" in The Beet Queen (1986).
No punishment has ever possessed enough power of deterrence to prevent the commission of crimes. On the contrary, whatever the punishment, once a specific crime has appeared for the first time, its reappearance is more likely than its initial emergence could ever have been.
Hannah Arendt (1906-1975) German-American philosopher, political theorist Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil, Epilogue (1963)
(Source)
Satchelmouth was by no means averse to the finger-foxtrot and the skull fandango, but he’d never murdered anyone, at least on purpose. Satchelmouth had been made aware that he had a soul and, though it had a few holes in it and was a little ragged around the edges, he cherished the hope that some day the god Reg would find him a place in a celestial combo. You didn’t get the best gigs if you were a murderer. You probably had to play the viola.
Terry Pratchett (1948-2015) English author Soul Music (1994)
To conceive that compulsion and punishment are the proper means of reformation, is the sentiment of a barbarian; civilisation and science are calculated to explode so ferocious an idea. It was once universally admitted and approved; it is now necessarily upon the decline. Punishment must either ultimately succeed in imposing the sentiments it is employed to inculcate, upon the mind of the sufferer, or it must forcibly alienate him against them. The last of these can never be the intention of its employer, or have a tendency to justify its application. […] Yet to alienate the mind of the sufferer, from the individual that punishes, and from the sentiments he entertains, is perhaps the most common effect of punishment.
William Godwin (1756-1836) English journalist, political philosopher, novelist Enquiry Concerning Political Justice, Vol. 2, bk. 7, ch. 5 (1793)
(Source)
No free man shall be taken or imprisoned or dispossessed, or outlawed or exiled, or in any way destroyed, nor will we go upon him, no will we send against him except by the lawful judgement of his peers or by the law of the land.
(Other Authors and Sources) Magna Carta, Clause 39 (1215)
You have heard the story, haven’t you, about the man who was tarred and feathered and carried out of town on a rail? A man in the crowd asked him how he liked it. His reply was that if it was not for the honor of the thing, he would much rather walk.
Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865) American lawyer, politician, US President (1861-65)
(Attributed (1861))
When asked how he liked being president (c. 1861). Quoted in Emanuel Hertz, Lincoln Talks: A Biography in Anecdote (1939).
“You are fettered,” said Scrooge, trembling. “Tell me why?”
“I wear the chain I forged in life,” replied the Ghost. “I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it.”
Charles Dickens (1812-1870) English writer and social critic A Christmas Carol (1843)
Sometimes oddly paraphrased, "We forge the chains we wear in life."
The men who convey, and those who listen to calumnies, should, if I could have my way, all hang, the tale-bearers by their tongues, the listeners by their ears.
“Even if some details of dogma aren’t true — or even all of ’em — think what a consolation religion and the church are to weak humanity!”
“Are they? I wonder! Don’t cheerful agnostics, who know they are going to die dead, worry much less than good Baptists, who worry lest their sons and cousins and sweethearts fail to get into the Baptist heaven — or what is even worse, who wonder if they may not have guessed wrong — if God may not be a Catholic, maybe, or a Mormon or Seventh-day Adventist instead of a Baptist, and then they’ll go to hell themselves. Consolation? No!”
Sinclair Lewis (1885-1951) American novelist, playwright Elmer Gantry (1927)
The sole end for which mankind are warranted, individually or collectively, in interfering with the liberty of action of any of their number, is self-protection. That the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilised community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others. His own good, either physical or moral, is not a sufficient warrant. He cannot rightfully be compelled to do or forbear because it will be better for him to do so, because it will make him happier, because, in the opinions of others, to do so would be wise, or even right. These are good reasons for remonstrating with him, or reasoning with him, or persuading him, or entreating him, but not for compelling him, or visiting him with any evil in case he do otherwise. To justify that, the conduct from which it is desired to deter him must be calculated to produce evil to some one else. The only part of the conduct of any one, for which he is amenable to society, is that which concerns others. In the part which merely concerns himself, his independence is, of right, absolute. Over himself, over his own body and mind, the individual is sovereign.
John Stuart Mill (1806-1873) English philosopher and economist On Liberty, ch. 1 (1859)
(Source)
