Canto XX1
The Eighth Circle:
Fraud
Bolgia V: Barrators
Scene I
While
you live, shine
have no grief at all
life exists only for a short while
and Time demands his due.
The Seikilos
epitaph is the oldest surviving complete musical composition,
including musical notation, from anywhere in the world. The epitaph has been
variously dated but seems to be either from the 1st or the 2nd century CE. The
song, the melody of which is recorded, alongside its lyrics, in
the ancient Greek musical notation, was found engraved on a tombstone
(a stele) from the Hellenistic town Tralles near
present-day Aydın, Turkey, not far from Ephesus. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seikilos_epitaph#Melody)
Virgil
was humming to himself and Dante asked.
“Why are
you singing those words now?” Dante quizzed the other.
“What was there not to sing? That one was an Epitaph;
a
funeral oration honoring a deceased person. written in prose or poem verse; poets have been known to compose their
epitaphs before their death, as did William Shakespeare.”
“What did the great poet write
then?” Dante added on.
"Good Friends, for Jesus' sake forbear,
To dig the
bones enclosed here!
Blest be
the man that spares these stones,
And curst
be he that moves my bones."
“Shakespeare was
pleading with the people not to disturb his final resting place. The
epitaph could also serve as his last piece of literature. In my opinion, the
epitaph may be viewed as his attempt to speak or express himself beyond the
grave even after death.” Virgil replied. (https://www.enotes.com/homework-help/what-does-epitaph-william-shakespeare-means-131525)
“Subsequent
works there at his grave for many generations were careful to work around the
bones without disturbing them. Unfortunately, at some point later, someone less
reputable, and less afraid of curses, seems to have stolen his skull. It
was said by some that Shakespeare may have not been buried there at all. His
Epitah was a deterrent but no everyone took it to their mind. As we have seen
here in this bolgia, there will always be sinners.”
“I am impressed by your words, Virgil.
I may have missed out on that in my reading.” Dante smiled. “Or my memory had
failed me. I had failed as a man of words as I was to be one and yet I missed
out on a crucial part of its world.”
“A humble part of you may have read it
but I am not a true poet unlike yourself. I happened to be a reader of the
Bard.” Virgil smiled.
“You are like a barrister that will
present in the Court of Law, most times you know only the part of the truth but
in your works then, you will embark to it no knowing the whole truth.”
“Yes, and most times, my works failed.” Virgil attests to his invention's
rate of success.
“And yet the ones that work, lent splendor to the users.” Dante praised
the other. “Our journey here may be alike your inventions. We have embarked so
deep into Hell, and yet we only explored a fraction of it but what we had seen
and will narrate if we make it out living, or rather myself. I will tell the
living what I had seen and heard, and feel lest that they know what it will be
like in Hell.”
“If you think the words of yours will change the ways of living when for
generations even the good Book have failed, I will say Dante you are living in
an ideal realm that does not exist in the living world.” Virgil laid his view
on the matter. “Referring to my reading of the Epitah earlier, Bard’s words
were not heeded at his tomb.”
“Was it? Or was it that he was not there at all?” Dante offered his
voice to Bard. “To be or not to be, that is the question. It was spoken in
Hamlet’s play.”
“Which posed us the task as do we narrate the journey in our task or we
do not? Tell me, Poet. You are the man of the words.”
“I --- I will narrate it as like you with your mechanical skills, I
invent the words to the scene.” Dante smiled.
“The part of the truth to make the whole truth or none?” Virgil asked.
Dante was baffled by the statement and when he was to ask more, Virgil looked
away and then sounded a warning.
“Hide thee now. I sensed danger before us.” Virgil reacted in fear. “That
it be not apparent thou art here, crouch thyself down behind a jag, that thou mayest
have some screen.”
Virgil pushed Dante to the spot where he cannot be seen. It was then
Virgil saw the Malebranche demons dragging a restless soul.
The one holding the soul tossed it into the pit there. He looked at the pit and
saw it boiling as if it was a hot sauce over the fireplace, and its shade was
murky red. The soul was soon to join others who were clamoring to get out but
the demons there standing on the edge of the pit, shoving them in with the end
of the sharpened pitchfork designs.
“Stew your soul in there where you belong.
There is no place in Hell which we can punish you for your sin.” The demon who
tossed the soul in roared. “Grifters all of you, deceiver with the silver
tongue and used it well in your posting to inflict on the ones that relied on
your assistance.”
“Stay your side with Bonturo (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bonturo_Dati
) who had used his position ever willing to sell his services or power.”
Another demon thrust his pitchfork into the pit. “The act of him in was named venality;
it causes other people to lie and steal for their advantage. A guilty may be
found innocent and yet the innocent may sentence as guilty. Such is the result
of venality. Let those who act it stewed here.”
“None of them are alike St.Vita; she who is the
incorruptible-patron-saint of Lucca.” Another demon spat into the sinners in the
pit. “Stay thy place in the boiling cauldron here.”
“Such inhumane acts,” Virgil muttered to
himself. “It may be seen by others but naught has any I seen so far can be
posed as humane. Hell is a place to be punished and such are to be expected.”
Two of the demons saw Virgil and thus
approached him.
“A sinner to the pit, huh?” One of the demons
spoke out. “But his soul does not reflect his stay here.”
The pitchforks were leveled at Virgil’s chest,
and the sharp tip of prod him.
“He is another soul but he is not destined
here. Who are you and how did you stray here?” One of the demons asked.
Virgil looked at the one whose question was
directed at him. The demons seen upfront held a fierce disposition with the
snarling expression toothed by the protruding fangs, dark in the shade, and
stood over the head of Virgil, had he still a child, that demon would have been
the boogie man creeping from under the bed at night.
“I am Virgil and passing by here.”
Virgil then asked. “Who dares to intrude on my path when I am ordained by God
to journey past here? Not even the ones at the Gates of Dis dared to halt my
journey.”
The two demons who were facing Virgil
took forth to approach closer towards Virgil but he retreated and with his
voice loud and assuring to the listener although he trembled inside his soul,
he hollered.
“Be none of you malignant near me! Before those hooks of yours lay hold
of me, let one of you step forward worthy who may hear me, then take counsel as
to grappling me. Where is Malacoda? I demand to see ---”
“That figure.” Virgil paused in his words. He was initially a loss to
how he was to address the demon he called for.
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