Circle Eight: Bolgia Three, The Simoniacs

Virgil and I approached the next dip in Hell's earth and saw long rows of holes made out of stone. They looked just like the ones that are used for Baptisms. I remember, not too long ago, I saved a child from drowning in one of these pieces. The young boy had escaped his mother's watchful eye and was intrigued by the water. When no one was looking, he climbed inside. He was a bit too big for the hole and became wedged inside at an odd angle, head first, and sputtered and flailed. I was able to break the baptismal encasing so that the boy could breathe again. The boys life was more important than preserving the religious piece.

Much like the little boy whose chubby legs were waving for my help, these stone pieces also held sinners whose legs were sprawled above them. Flames licked up, caressing their calves. Each sinner was stuck and didn't have the slightest hope of being saved.

Virgil and I came upon the head sinner in that area, the one who squirmed his legs most and burnt brightest: Pope Nicholas III. Seeing him in Hell pleased me for I detested those who corrupt church office. I went as far as to tell him that silver and gold are the only gods that he worships. I wanted to say much more but I knew that our time was limited. My guide once again was praising me for denouncing a sinner. God was right in his judgements. Who was I to question him by feeling pity?

Virgil lifted me up and carried me up the rocky wall up to the bridge so that we could look into the next ditch.