INFERNO, Episode 15. Charon, The Ferryman Of The Damned: Inferno, Canto III, Lines 70 - 108

Inferno, Canto III is the first time we’ve seen a canto divided into two scenes. We’ve passed through the neutrals, running like mad behind their blank flag. Now we come to the shores of the first river of hell: Acheronte. And to Charon, the ferryman.

But first, Virgil and Dante have a little spat. Because what else would one do in hell? What else can you do when you’re following your mentor across the known universe? How do get heard, if you don’t poke at him? And what else is a mentor to do, except poke at you? So with the poet and Vergil, so with the pilgrim and his Virgil.

Join me, Mark Scarbrough, as we take this slow walk across THE DIVINE COMEDY, Dante’s masterwork.

Here’s my rough English translation of the passage:

Inferno Canto III: 70 - 108

Then, setting my gaze to look beyond them,

I saw people on the shore of the big river—

Which made me say, “Master, let me know

“Who these are and what propensity makes them appear—

Or so I see them in this faded light—

So eager to cross over.

And he to me, “You will be told these things

When we stop our steps

At the sad shore of Acheronte.”

Thus, with lowered eyes and shame-filled,

Fearful because my words maybe offended him,

I stopped talking until we got to the river.

Behold, coming toward us in a boat,

I saw an old man, with thinning, white hair,

Crying out, “Curses on you, evil souls.

“Don’t ever hope to see heaven:

I come to transport you to the other shore,

To eternal darkness, full of heat and cold.

“And you, over there, you living spirit,

Get away from these who are dead.”

When he saw that I didn’t budge,

He said, “By another way, by other ports,

You will find a passage and cross, not here.

A lighter boat than mine must carry you.”

And my leader to him, “Don’t torture yourself, Charon.

This is willed where what is willed

Is what is done. Don’t question us anymore.”

At this, the ferryman’s shaggy jowls relaxed,

As he guided his boat across the bruised swamp,

Though his eyes were set into wheels of fire.

But those souls, exhausted and naked,

Changed color and gnashed their teeth

As soon as they heard his cruel words.

They cursed God and their parents,

The human race, the place, the time,

And the seed of their conception and even their birth.

Then they drew close together

With loud lamentation at the bad shore

That awaits each person who does not fear God.