The Divine Comedy by Dante, Illustrated, Hell, Volume 04

In Short

This volume captures a crucial turning point in Dante’s epic journey through the underworld, tracking his descent through the fourth and fifth circles of Hell to the intimidating gates of the city of Dis. Guided by the Roman poet Virgil, the narrator witnesses the grotesque, endless punishments meted out to the avaricious, the prodigal, the wrathful, and the sullen. Blending classical mythology with Christian theology, the work endures because of its vivid dramatic encounters, precise moral architecture, and profound exploration of human frailty, divine justice, and the paralyzing nature of terror.

The Story

The narrative opens as the poet and his guide, Virgil, descend to the fourth circle of the underworld, where they are immediately confronted by the hoarse, alarming exclamations of the monster Plutus. Virgil swiftly silences the beast, assuring his charge that no demon has the power to block their divinely sanctioned path. Looking down upon the dismal shore, the narrator is awed and pained by the sheer scale of suffering ordained by Almighty Justice. Here, vast crowds of souls are divided into two opposing factions: the avaricious, including hairy-cowled Popes and Cardinals dominated by greed, and the prodigal, who squandered their earthly wealth. The two groups are condemned to continuously roll massive weights using their chests, crashing into one another at opposite sides of a giant ring before turning back to repeat the ordeal while hurling bitter insults. Virgil explains the fleeting, empty nature of earthly fortune, noting that no amount of gold under the moon could buy rest for a single one of these exhausted souls.

Leaving the fourth circle behind, the travelers follow a murky, boiling stream down to the foot of withered grey cliffs, where the water expands into the filthy Stygian lake. In the marish slime, the narrator sees naked, rage-filled souls tearing at one another with hands, heads, feet, and teeth; these are the wrathful. Beneath the bubbling surface of the mud lie the sullen, who gargle a mournful song expressing how they carried a lazy, foul mist within their hearts while enjoying the sun lit air above.

As they approach a tall tower at the edge of the marsh, signal lights flare across the water. The boatman Phlegyas arrives in a nimble skiff to ferry them across. During the passage, a mud-drenched spirit named Filippo Argenti rises from the water to confront the narrator. Recognizing the arrogant Florentine, the narrator rejects him, and Virgil pushes the spirit back into the dregs, praising the traveler's righteous disdain as the other damned souls tear into Argenti.

Finally, the skiff reaches the iron-walled city of Dis, its minarets glowing red from eternal inner fires. At the entrance, over a thousand fallen angels angrily refuse passage to a living man. Virgil attempts a private conference, but the demons slam the heavy gates in his face. For the first time, Virgil appears shaken and lacking confidence, while the narrator falls into deep despair, fearing he will be abandoned in the abyss. Yet Virgil reassures him, promising that a heavenly messenger is already descending the circles to force the gates open.

How It Unfolds

Confronting the guardian of greed Virgil silences the roaring monster Plutus with a divine command, allowing the travelers to step down onto the fourth ledge of the underworld.

The dance of the hoarders and spenders The narrator watches vast throngs of souls clash while pushing heavy weights with their breasts, continuously hurling accusations of hoarding and squandering at each other.

Virgil's lesson on fortune Virgil explains that worldly wealth is governed by a divine minister of fortune whose swift changes cannot be altered by human wisdom or complaints.

The murky waters of the Styx Descending to the Stygian lake, the travelers observe the wrathful violently tearing each other apart and hear the gurgling sighs of the sullen submerged in the mud.

Crossing the marsh with Phlegyas The boatman Phlegyas ferries the pair across the lake, where the narrator rebukes the arrogant shade Filippo Argenti, earning Virgil's warm approval.

Barred at the gates of Dis Reaching the iron walls of the city of Dis, rebellious fallen angels shut the gates against Virgil, leaving the living narrator terrified until Virgil promises divine aid is on its way.

The People

• The Narrator (Dante): A living mortal journeying through Hell who seeks spiritual understanding and safe passage. He wrestles with deep fear, grief, and righteous anger, needing constant reassurance from his guide when confronted by horrific sights or locked gates.
• Virgil: The ancient Roman poet who acts as the narrator's guide, protector, and mentor. Possessing deep knowledge and divine authority, he defends his pupil from demonic threats, explains the moral order of the universe, and maintains resolve even when temporarily stymied by rebellious spirits.
• Plutus: The hoarse-voiced, furious guardian of the fourth circle who attempts to terrify the travelers before being subdued by Virgil's words.
• Phlegyas: The fiery, vengeful boatman of the Stygian lake who reluctantly carries the pair across the murky water in his skiff.
• Filippo Argenti: A mud-covered, arrogant Florentine shade in the Styx who accosts the narrator, only to be rejected and attacked by his fellow damned souls.
• The Fallen Angels: A hostile throng of over a thousand spirits hurl'd from heaven who guard the city of Dis, fiercely resisting the entry of a living man.

In Its Own Voice

"Not all the gold, that is beneath the moon, / Or ever hath been, of these toil-worn souls / Might purchase rest for one."

Virgil highlights the absolute futility of earthly wealth to the souls punished in the fourth circle.

"Sad once were we / In the sweet air made gladsome by the sun, / Carrying a foul and lazy mist within: / Now in these murky settlings are we sad."

Submerged beneath the Stygian slime, the sullen reflect on how their earthly gloominess trapped them in eternal darkness.

"O my lov'd guide! who more than seven times / Security hast render'd me, and drawn / From peril deep, whereto I stood expos'd, / Desert me not," I cried, "in this extreme."

Terrified by the hostile demons barring the city gates, the narrator pleads with Virgil not to abandon him in the abyss.

What It's Really About

At its core, the text examines the absolute nature of divine justice and the moral consequences of human choices. It contrasts the temporary, fleeting value of earthly goods—such as accumulated wealth or political power—with the eternal reality of the soul's condition. The narrative argues that sins of uncontrolled passion, whether manifested as obsessive greed, reckless wastefulness, blinding rage, or suffocating sullenness, distort the human mind and alienate individuals from grace. Furthermore, the conflict at the gates of Dis underscores the limits of human reason, represented by Virgil, when confronted by deep-seated malice, demonstrating that ultimate salvation and progress require reliance on divine intervention rather than human intellect alone.

Why Read It Today

This volume offers a gripping, highly visual entry point into one of Western literature's foundational epics. Readers who appreciate atmospheric world-building, dark fantasy, and high-stakes dramatic tension will find themselves captivated by the stark depictions of subterranean landscapes, glowing iron minarets, and ominous river crossings. The narrative reads with remarkable momentum, balancing intense personal encounters with broad philosophical reflections on fate and human error.

Modern readers should be prepared for the formal, elevated poetic language of classic translations, complete with archaic phrasing, inverted syntax, and dense references to medieval church hierarchy and Florentine political feuds. The depiction of divine punishment is unsparing and harsh, reflecting the rigid moral framework of the Middle Ages. However, overcoming these stylistic hurdles rewards the reader with a profoundly moving portrait of human vulnerability. The image of a terrified traveler clinging to his mentor outside locked, iron gates remains timelessly relatable, capturing that universal moment when human strength reaches its absolute limit.