Dante Book II Canto VI Scene I

 

Canto XVI

The Seventh Circle: Violence V

Scene 1

 

Their walk took them from the harsh lands to the refreshing treeline and into it the flowing streams of water, not of boils. They soon reached a scenic waterfall where the water cascade down was in the shade of red, but at the bottom, it emerged clear crystal. Virgil then called on Dante on his emotions towards the last sinners.

“Perhaps the sins of Man can be purged by Hell. No one is ever accused to eternity.”

“I stand by my view that my Ser was wrongly accused. He is a good mentor and could not bear his woes here.” Dante replied.

“We may not know how we are seen,” Virgil said to Dante. “We see others from our sight but we hardly see ourselves in the mirror. I once told my associate; before you judged others on their looks, see yourself in the mirror.”

Dante stopped in his track and turned towards Virgil.

“I am a poet. I narrate what I may see, or perceived.” Dante rebuked. “Do you?”

“I am a creator of things. I do not narrate, I perform.” Virgil took offense and later calmed he explained his statement.”

“As mentioned before, we are in Hell, and what we saw does not have to hold any emotional baggage to our conscience. We are to observe.” Virgil said.

“I am not a mechanical being. And even your creation, the orb held its thoughts. Your words conflict your mind.” Dante looked at Virgil. “We are the ones with the emotions, and if God held it like me, he would have pardoned the sinners.”

“God may do it but he had to let the sinners take their penance on their sins. If one is left off easily, then we will be all living in Utopia and not Hell.” Virgil laughed. Just when Dante was to reply, he saw three souls approaching them. He looked at the three; clothed in the tatters of what was once their uniform. He recognized it from the insignia that was seen; they are of the Regulars Army.

“Now wait, to these, we should be courteous,” Dante told Virgil. As the three came nearer, he saw the frame of their soul was with burnt wounds on their limbs. Some of the wounds were recent but many were scarred or old.

“I would say their haste were more becoming thee than them.” Virgil smiled at Dante. “They looked like from the Army.”

The trio stopped before Dante and Virgil but their boots marched to the beat of the parade.

“Pardon us for if we were not to stop our steps. If we ever do, we will be doomed.” One of the trios spoke to Dante. “You are one of us, but not of the same division.”

“I am Guidoguerra, the grandson of General Gualdrada IV of the Second Army of Florence. He commands the Army with his wisdom and his sword.” The one who spoke stood in the middle. “The other, who close by me treads the sand, Tegghiaio Aldobrandi whose fame above there in the world should welcome be. He carries more medals with him than his pride.”

“And I am Jacopo Rusticucci, whose love above may harm me for failing to return home. She is a woman best, not scorn for even what I get at Hell will not rival her wrath.”

“We are of Florence and we had seen you before. You were a figure of words, and we see you here in uniform.” Guidoguerra looked at Dante from head to toe. “Not a mark on you. Did you die of the emotional state of cowardice? I had seen the few who had died of such manner for they were not fighters. They dwell there before here.”

“I did not. I ---” Dante could not find the words to share with the others. They were in the war long before he did. While he was safe in Florence, they fought at the war and lost their lives.

“Dante just arrived. He was killed by other means.” It was Virgil who came to the rescue.

“You are recent then, fellow Florence. How fares our beloved city?” Dante was asked. The poet thought hard in his mind. He had met the few who spoke to him who were from Florence. Was it coincidental or it was the way Hell may have paved his journey?

“Florence fared well. We are far from the front.” Dante replied.

“You wore the uniform of the Volunteers. Are we calling up the volunteers because of the war? Are we losing?” Jacopo asked.

“No--- The Volunteers are in as we ---winning. What best to end the war fast and may peace reign once more.” Virgil replied on behalf of Dante. Relieved of the words from Virgil, the trio decided to march on.

“We will now strive forward in pride.” The trio soon left Dante and Virgil.

“Why did you lie to them?” Dante asked of his companion.

“The truth may hurt them. Are they not tormented enough to be left here in Hell? And of what sins had they committed to be left here?” Virgil snapped back.

“To one who has said to leave emotions aside, you are applying it now. Who cares if they get hurt if I told them the truth?’ Dante displayed his swing of emotions.

“I do,” Virgil replied. “I guess I was wrong. We cannot ignore our emotions even though---”

“We are dead here? Unfortunately to that, I am still a living soul.” Dante hit back. “Our soul carried our mind and that includes how we feel. And we will feel it even here.”

With that Dante moved on and soon they reached an abyss or what was seen as one.

“Another circle awaits us.”

Dante and Virgil leaned over to look and saw nothing for beneath the edge, there was seen a misty atmosphere. It deadens the sight to naught what was beneath.

“It’s dark below.” Virgil tried to adjust his view below. He then turned to Dante. “Do you have any light?”

It was obvious that Virgil had seen Dante’s equipment. Dante reached for the torch.

“I was too used that to hunt the dark predators in the forest soon after Stefan was taken.” Dante turned on the torch. He shone it below. The ray of light was not far.

“I can’t make out much below,” Dante spoke.

“Do you have a rope? Or a cord?” Virgil asked.

“I have none but ---- my belt. I could use that to extend the reach.” With that Dante attached the torch to the belt. He then lowered it and swung it to get a wider view. With the swing, they got were glimpses. With the random movement of the swings, the torch came loose and dropped below.

“There goes our light.” Dante cursed. He sighed and then stepped from the edge. When it was all deemed over, Dante felt the impact on the rear of the neck when the torch hit him.

“Who dares to litter my land?”