Tt

Lodged in hell is a place called Malebolge,
         All made of stone the color of iron ore,
         As is the cliff wall that encloses it.
 
         Right in the middle of this cankered field
5        A broad and deep-cut chasm opens up —
         In its place I shall describe its structure.
 
         The belt, then, that is left between the chasm
         And the steep stony cliff, forms a circle
         And its bottom has been sliced into ten valleys.
 
10        Just as, where moat on moat encompasses
         A castle to defend its central walls,
         The ground in which they’re dug shapes a design,
 
         Such a pattern here these ditches formed;
         And as such fortresses have footbridges
15       Out from their gates up to the outer banks
 
         So from the bottom of the cliff ran ridges
         Which crossed above the embankments and ditches
         Up to the chasm where they end and merge.
 
         In this spot we found ourselves, dismounted
20       From the back of Geryon; the poet
         Kept to the left and I walked on behind him.
 
         At my right hand I saw fresh cause for pathos,
         Fresh punishments and fresh torturers
         That fully crammed the first of the ten pockets.
 
25       Naked sinners filed by on the bottom:
         On the near side they came facing toward us,
         On the other they moved along with us, but faster:
 
         So the Romans, because of the huge crowds
         During Jubilee year, have people pass
30       Over the bridge so that on the other side all face
 
         (According to the plan fixed to divide them)
         Toward the Castle and walk to Saint Peter’s,
         While on the other they walk toward the Mount.
 
         This side and that, along the gloom-filled rock,
35       I saw horned devils with their huge long whips
         Cruelly lashing those sinners from behind.
 
         Ah how they forced them to lift up their heels
         At the first strokes! There was nobody there
         Who waited for the second or the third!
 
40       While I moved on, my eye caught someone else’s,
         And immediately I said to myself,
         "Surely I have seen this one before."
 
         So I held up my steps to stare at him,
         And my kindly guide halted with me
45       And gave me leave to go a short way back.
 
         That scourged spirit thought that he could hide
         By lowering his head, but little it helped him,
         For I said, "You who gaze upon the ground,
 
         "Unless the features which you wear are false,
50       You are Venedico Caccianemico:
         But what put you in such a juicy pickle?"
 
         And he replied, "I tell it unwillingly,
         But your plain speech forces me to do it
         By reminding me of that world of old.
 
55       "I was the one who led Ghisolabella
         To satisfy the will of the Marquis,
         Whatever way the vile tale is reported.
 
         "But I am not the only Bolognese
         Weeping here; this place is so full of them
60       That not so many tongues have learned to say
 
         "Sipa between the Savena and Reno:
         And if you want a proof or witness for this,
         Recall to mind our sense of greediness."
 
         While he was talking a devil lashed at him
65       With his whip and cried out, "On your way, pimp!
         There are no women here for you to con."
 
         I turned back to be once more with my escort.
         Then, a few steps forward, we walked up
         To where a ridge out-jutted from the bank.
 
70       We climbed across it with no difficulty
         And, turning to the right along its crest,
         We left behind those everlasting circlings.
 
         When we had reached the spot where the ridgeline
         Yawns open to let the scourged pass below,
75       My guide said, "Stop and make sure that the sight
 
         "Of these other misbegotten souls strikes you:
         Their faces you have not observed before
         As they were moving the same direction we were."
 
         From the old bridge we gazed down at the troop
80       Coming toward us along the other tract,
         And they were likewise driven by the lash.
 
         Even without my asking, my good master
         Spoke up, "Look at that mighty one approaching
         Who does not seem to shed a tear for pain.
 
85       "What a kingly look he still retains!
         That is Jason, who with heart and brains
         Robbed Colchis of the gold fleece of their ram.
 
         "He voyaged to the island of Lemnos
         After the brash and merciless women
90       Had put all of their menfolk to the sword.
 
         "There with his love tokens and stylish words
         He beguiled the young Hypsipyle
         Who had first beguiled the other women.
 
         "There he left her, pregnant and forsaken:
95       Such sin condemns him to such punishment,
         And for Medea, too, is vengeance wreaked.
 
         ‘With him go all the beguilers of others —
         Let this now be enough for you to know
         Of the first valley and sinners in its jaws."
 
100      We had already come where the narrow path
         Crosses over to the second bank
         To form a new support for another arch.
 
         From there we heard people in the next pocket
         Whining and snorting gruffly from their snouts
105     And whacking themselves with flat open palms.
 
         The banks were coated with a slimy mold
         From exhalations below; it stuck to them,
         Attacking eyes and nose with stinging must.
 
         The bottom was so deep we could not see it
110     Anywhere, except by climbing up the spine
         Of the arch where the ridge rises highest.
 
         Here we arrived, and down there in the ditch
         I saw a people plunged in excrement
         As if it had been dumped from men’s latrines.
 
115      And as I searched below there with my eyes
         I saw one with his head so smeared with shit
         You could not tell if he were lay or cleric.
 
         He yelled up at me, "Why are you more greedy
         To stare at me than at the other scum?"
120      And I: "Because, if I remember rightly,
 
         "I have seen you before with your hair dry:
         And so I eye you more than all the rest.
         You are Alessio Interminei of Lucca."
 
         And he, smacking his squash, replied to me,
125      "Down here I am sunk by the flatteries
         That my tongue never tired of repeating."
 
         After this my teacher said to me,
         "Stretch your head forward a little farther
         So that your eyes may clearly catch the face
 
130      "Of that slatternly and smutty slut
         Who scratches herself with shit-blackened nails,
         Now squatting and now staggering to her feet.
 
         "She is Thais the whore, who when her lover
         Asked, ‘Are you very grateful to me?' answered,
135     ‘Very! Why, extravagantly so!’
 
         "But now our sight has had enough of this."

"Look at the beast with the pointed tail!
         He passes mountains, smashes walls and weapons!
         Look at the one that smells up the whole world!"
 
         This way my guide began to talk to me
5         As he signaled the beast to land on shore
         Close to the edge of our stone-paved pathway.
 
         And that repugnant picture of pure fraud
         Came on, landing his head and his chest first,
         But darting his tail out beyond the bank.
 
10       His face was the face of a saintly person,
         So placid was the surface of the skin,
         But his whole trunk was the shape of a snake.
 
         He had two paws, with hair up to his armpits;
         His back and breasts and both of his flanks
15      Were painted gaudily with knots and loops.
 
         Tartars or Turks never wove a cloth
         With more colors in background and design,
         Nor did Arachne ever loom such webs.
 
         Just as boats sometimes lie on shore
20       Half in the water and half still on land,
         And just as there among the guzzling Germans
 
         The beaver crouches ready to do battle,
         So did that worst of all wild beasts lay there
         On the rim of stone bordering the sand.
 
25       Out in the void all his tail stretched quivering,
         Twisting in the air its poisonous fork
         Which had a tip armed like a scorpion’s.
 
         My leader said, "Now we had better veer
         Our way slightly, until we come as far
30       As that wicked beast squatting over there."
 
         We stepped down, then, to the right-hand breast,
         And walked ten paces out along the ledge
         To keep wholly clear of the sand and flame.
 
         And when we had walked up to Geryon,
35       I noticed on the sand, a bit farther on,
         People sitting next to empty space.
 
         Here my master said to me, "That you may
         Acquire the full experience this ring offers,
         Go now and see the state that they are in.
 
40       "But let your conversation there be brief.
         Till you come back, I shall talk with this beast
         To have him lend us his strong shoulders."
 
         So still farther along the utmost brink
         Of that seventh circle I walked alone
45       To where the people deep in mourning sat.
 
         Misery was bursting from their eyes;
         This way and that, they ward off with their hands
         One time the flames and next the burning sands,
 
         No differently do dogs in summertime,
50       Now with muzzles, now with paws, when they are
         Bitten by fleas or gnats or by horseflies.
 
         When I had cast my eyes on certain faces
         Of those on whom the oppressive fire falls,
         I recognized none of them, but I observed
 
55       That from the neck of each there hung a purse
         Having a special color and coat of arms,
         And on his own each seemed to feast his eyes.
 
         While I went among them, looking about
         I glimpsed a purse of yellow upon azure
60       Which bore the face and figure of a lion.
 
         Then, letting my gaze wander over them,
         I saw another purse as red as blood
         Displaying a goose whiter than butter.
 
         And one who had an azure pregnant sow
65       Represented on his small white pouch
         Asked me, "What are you doing in this ditch?
 
         "Now get going — and since you’re still alive,
         You should know my neighbor Vitaliano
         Shall have a seat here soon at my left side.
 
70       "I, a Paduan, am with these Florentines;
         Incessantly they deafen my poor eardrums
         With their shouting, ‘Bring on the royal knight
 
         " ‘Who bears on him his pouch with the three goats!’ "
         At this he twisted his mouth around and stuck
75       His tongue out, like an ox licking its nose.
 
         And I, in fear that any longer stay
         Might vex him who had warned me not to tarry,
         Turned my back upon these worn-out sinners.
 
         I found my guide who had already climbed
80       Up on the rump of that wild animal,
         And he said to me, "Now be strong and stout!
 
         "Our way down from here is by stairs like these.
         You mount in front: I want the middle section
         So that his sharp tail cannot cause you harm."
 
85       As one who, feeling the shivers of a fever
         So close his nails already are turned blue,
         Shudders just at the sight of some cool shade,
 
         So I became when I had heard his words.
         But then I felt the taunt of shame which makes
90       A servant bold before his worthy master.
 
         I hunched down on those monstrous shoulders
         Wanting to say — but my voice did not come
         As I thought — "Make sure you hold on to me."
 
         But he who had at other times helped me
95       In other dangers, as soon as I was mounted,
         Folded me in his arms and held me tight.
 
         He called, "Now, Geryon, get up! Be sure
         To make your circles wide and move down slowly:
         Remember the strange weight that you now carry."
 
100     Just as a rowboat pulls out from its berth
         Backwards, backwards, so that beast pushed off,
         And when he felt himself all free in space,
 
         There where his chest had been he turned his tail,
         Stretching it out and waving it like an eel,
105     While with his paws he gathered in the air.
 
         I do not think the fear was any sharper
         When Phaethon let the sun’s reins drop away
         (The reason why the sky is scorched with stars)
 
         Nor when unhappy Icarus felt his flanks
110     Unfeathering as the wax started melting,
         His father shouting, "You’re going the wrong way!"
 
         Than mine was when I saw that on all sides
         I floated in the air and I saw all
         Sights lost to view except the beast himself.
 
115      He flew on slowly, slowly swimming on,
         Spiraling and gliding: this I knew only
         By the winds in my face and underneath me.
 
         I heard already on my right the whirlpool
         Roaring with such horror there beneath us
120     That I stretched out my neck and peered below.
 
         Then I grew more panicky of going down
         For I saw flames and I heard wailing cries;
         So, trembling, I pressed my legs in tighter.
 
         And then I saw, what I had not seen before:
125      His descent was spiraled, since I saw torments
         On every side were drawing nearer to us.
 
         Just as a falcon, a long while on the wing,
         Who, without spotting lure or prey,
         Makes the falconer cry, "Ah, you’re coming down,"
 
130      Descends, tired, with a hundred turnings
         To where he set out so swiftly, and perches,
         Aloof and furious, far off from his master,
         
         So at the bottom Geryon set us down
         Right next to the base of a jagged rockface
135     And, once rid of the burden of our bodies,
 
         He vanished like an arrow from a bowstring.

Already I was where I heard the rumbling fall
         Of water running down to the next circle,
         Like the sound that a humming beehive makes,
 
         When three shades broke away together,
5         Racing, out of the squad that went on past us
         Under the rain of grating punishment.
 
         They ran toward us, each of them shouting,
         "Stop! You — by the clothes you wear — seem
         To be like someone from our rotten city."
 
10       Ah me, what old and recent wounds I saw
         Seared into their bodies by those flames!
         Just to remember it still gives me pain.
 
         Their shouts caught the attention of my guide.
         He turned his face toward me: "Now wait,"
15       He said; "we must be courteous to them.
 
         "And were it not for the hot darting fire
         Which the nature of this place rains down on them,
         I’d say haste suits you better than it does them."
 
         While we stood still, they once again began
20       Their ancient dirge, and when they came to us
         The three of them together formed a wheel,
 
         As stripped and oiled wrestlers often do,
         First studying their grip and their advantage
         Before they come to blows and holds between them,
 
25       So, wheeling, each one directed his face
          Toward me, so that, in constant motion,
          His neck kept turning opposite his feet.
 
        "If the debasement of this unsteady sand
         And our bare and burnt-out faces," one began,
30       "Makes you feel contempt for our pleas and us,
 
         "May fame of ours induce the soul in you
         To tell us who you are who in such safety
         Can drag your feet, still living, throughout hell.
 
         "He in whose footsteps you see me tread,
35       Although he turns about here, skinned and naked,
         Was of a higher rank than you may think:
 
         "He was the grandson of the good Gualdrada;
         His name was Guido Guerra — in his life
         Much he achieved by counsel and his sword.
 
40       "The other who thrashes the sand behind me
         Is Tegghiaio Aldobrandi, whose voice
         In the world above ought to have won favor.
 
         "And I who am placed with them in this torment
         Was Jacopo Rusticucci, and surely
45       My hell-cat wife — more than anyone — ruined me!"
 
         If I had found a shelter from the flames,
         I would have hurled myself below with them,
         And I think my teacher would have allowed it.
 
         But since I would have been baked and toasted,
50       Fear conquered my initially kind impulse
         Which first made me so eager to embrace them.
 
         Then I began, "Not disdain, but distress
         For your condition seized me — so deeply that
         It will only leave me slowly, and not soon —
 
55       "At the instant my lord spoke to me the words
         Which led me then to realize that such men,
         Worthy as you are, were coming here.
 
         "I am of your city, and at all times
         I have spoken and heard others speak
60       Of your achievements and your honored names.
 
         "I quit the gall and go for the sweet apples
         Promised to me by my truthful leader,
         But first I must pass down into the center."
 
         "So may your soul long lead on your body,"
65       Once more he answered me, "and may your fame,
         After you have passed on, shed its light,
 
         "Tell us if courtesy and valor still
         Dwell in our city as they did in our day
         Or have they been entirely driven out?
 
70       "For Guglielmo Borsiere, who just joined
         Us in our grief and goes with our comrades,
         With his reports has caused us deep distress."
 
         "The new arrivals and the instant profits
         Have given rise to such pride and unrestraint
75       In you, Florence, that you already weep."
 
         These words I cried out with my face raised high,
         And the three, who took it for my answer,
         Gazed at each other as though they heard the truth.
 
         "If at other times you find it so easy
80       To please other people," all three replied,
         "Happy you to speak so fluently!
 
         "Should you escape, then, from these sunless regions
         And return to view once more the splendid stars,
         When it shall gladden you to say, ‘I was there,’
 
85        "Be sure to tell the people about us."
         At that they broke out of their wheeling circle,
         And, in fleeing, their legs resembled wings.
 
         An "Amen" would take less time to pronounce
         Than it took for the three of them to vanish:
90       And so my master thought it well to leave.
 
         I followed him, and we hadn’t walked on far
         Before the sound of water was so near
         We hardly could have heard each other talk.
 
         Just as that river, which first takes its course
95       From Mount Visco and flows toward the east
         On the left slope of the Apennines —
 
         Called the Acquacheta up above
         Before descending to its lower bed
         And at Forĺ is known as the Montone —
 
100      Roars above San Benedetto dell’Alpe,
         Cascading in a single waterfall
         Where a thousand falls could easily have settled:
 
         Just so, down from one steep and rocky bank
         We found that tainted water so thundering
105      That in no time it would have burst our ears.
 
         I had a cord tied fast around my waist,
         And with it I had thought on one occasion
         To catch the leopard with the gaudy coat.
 
         As soon as I unwrapped the cord completely,
110      Exactly as my guide directed me,
         I passed it to him wound in a tight coil.
 
         At that he swung around toward his right
         And, far out over from the edge, threw it
         Right into the depth of the dark chasm.
 
115      "Surely there will be a strange response,"
         I said to myself, "to this strange signal:
         My master follows it so closely with his eye."
 
         Ah what care men need to show with those
         Who can not only see the outward act
120      But have the mind to read our inner thoughts!
 
         He said to me, "Soon shall come up from below
         What I wait for and your mind dreams about:
         Soon must it be discovered to your sight."
 
         Always, to the truth that seems a lie,
125      As far as he can, one must close his lips,
         For through no fault of his, it still brings shame.
 
         But here I cannot remain silent — reader,
         By the lines of this Comedy, I swear
         (So may my verse attain long-lasting favor)
 
130      That I saw through that thick and darkened air
         A figure come, swimming up toward us —
         A thing to dumbfound any steadfast heart —
 
         Like someone coming up from depths below
         Where he went down to free an anchor snagged
135      On a reef or something else hid in the sea,
 
         Stretching upward and drawing up his legs.

Now one of the stone margins bears us on.
         Above, the river’s smoke throws up a shadow
         Which screens the banks and water from the fire.
 
         Just as the Flemings, between Wissant and Bruges,
5        In terror of the tide that surges toward them
         Build dikes to make the flooding sea recede,
 
         And as the Paduans, along the Brenta,
         Before the heat wave comes to Chiarentana,
         Build walls to defend their towns and castles,
 
10       In the same fashion were these banks constructed,
         Except the builder, whoever he might be,
         Had made them not so high and not so wide.
 
         Already we were so far from the wood
         That I could not have noticed where it was
15       Even had I turned round to look for it,
 
         When we came across a troop of spirits
         Walking along the bankside, and each one
         Stared at us as men at dusk will study
 
         Each other in the light of a new moon,
20       Knitting their eyebrows at us in a squint
         Like an old tailor threading a needle’s eye.
 
         Eyed in this manner by that brotherhood,
         I there was recognized by one who grasped me
         By the hem — and cried, "How wonderful!"
 
25       And I, when he stretched out his arm to me,
         So fixed my eyes upon his burnt-out features
         Even his crusted face did not prevent me
 
         From apprehending him in my mind’s eye,
         And bending down my face to be with his,
30       I asked him, "Ser Brunetto, are you here?"
 
         And he: "My son, pray do not be displeased
         If Brunetto Latini stays back a while
         With you and lets that line trek on ahead."
 
         And I: "With all my heart, I beg you to,
35       And should you want me to sit here with you,
         I will, if he who goes with me permits it."
 
         "My son," he said, "whoever of this flock
         Stops for an instant must stay a hundred years,
         Unable to brush off the burning flames.
 
40        "Go on then. I will walk here at your hem,
         And later I will join my company
         Who pass in sorrow for their endless woes."
 
         I did not dare to step down from the path
         To walk by him; instead I held my head
45       Bowed down like a man reverently walking.
 
         He then began, "What chance or destiny
         Brings you down here before your final day
         And who is this one here who shows the way?"
 
         "Up there above in the sun-brightened life,"
50       I answered him, "I lost myself in a valley
         Before reaching the fullness of my years.
 
         "Just yesterday morning I turned my back
         On it: when I was lost, this one appeared
         To lead me home once more along this road."
 
55       And he said to me, "Follow your own star
         And you cannot miss your harbor of glory
         If I judged you rightly in that lovely life.
 
         "And if I had not died before the time,
60       Seeing how gracious heaven has been to you,
         I should have warmly championed your work.
 
         "But that unthankful, evil-minded people
         Who long ago came down from Fiesole,
         And still have the rock and mountain in them,
 
         "For the good you do shall be your enemy,
65       And the reason is: among the bitter sorb trees
         It is not right the sweet fig should bear fruit.
 
         "The world’s word of old for them was ‘blind’:
         A greedy, envious, and haughty stock,
         Make sure you rid yourself of their bad ways.
 
70       "Your future holds out such honor to you
         That one party and the other will hunger
         For you — but grass does not grow near the goat!
 
         "Let the beasts of Fiesole feed on
         Each other, and let them not touch the plant —
75       Should any still be growing on their dungheap —
 
         "A plant in which lives on the holy seed
         Of the Romans who remained in Florence
         When that nest of foul wickedness was built."
 
         "If my appeal then had been fully granted,"
80       I responded to him, "you would not be
         Still banished from the ranks of humankind.
 
         "For in my memory is etched — it grieves me
         Even now — the dear, kind, fatherly image
         Of you, when in the world, hour by hour,
 
85      "You taught me how man makes himself immortal,
         And I am so grateful that, while I live,
         I will fittingly express it in my speech.
 
         "What you tell me of my course I write down
         And keep it with another text to read to
90       A lady who, if I reach her, shall gloss it.
 
         "One thing at least I purpose to make clear:
         As long as my conscience does not blame me,
         Whatever fate wills I am ready for it.
 
         "Nothing new I hear in this prediction,
95       So let Fortune, as she pleases, rotate
         Her wheel and let the peasant turn his spade."
 
         At this my master twisted his head back,
         Around to his right, and peering at me,
         He said, "Whoever notes this down, listens well."
 
100     But for all that, I did not cease from speaking
         To Ser Brunetto, and I asked who were
         His most noble and renowned companions.
 
         And he told me, "To know of some is good,
         Of others it is better to be silent,
105     As time would be too short for so much talk.
 
         "Briefly, you should know that all were clerics,
         Great men of letters, men of wide repute,
         Dirtied by the selfsame sin on earth.
 
         "Priscian travels with that stricken crowd,
110      And Francesco d’Accorso too, and you may see,
         If you have any appetite for such scurf,
 
        "The one the Servant of Servants transferred
         From the Arno to the Bacchiglione river
         Where he left his organs stretched by sin.
 
115     "I would say more, but my walking and my talk
May last no longer, since I see over there
New smoke billowing upward from the sandbar.
         "People are coming — I must not be with them.
         Let me commend my Treasury to you:
120     In it I still live and no more I ask."
 
         At that he turned and seemed like one of those
         Who at Verona run through the countryside
         For the green cloth, and among them he appeared
 
         The winner of the race and not the loser.

Love of our native city touched my heart:
         I bent and gathered up the scattered sprigs
         And gave them back to him whose voice grew faint.
 
         From there we reached the border that divided
5        The second from the third ring — and there
         I witnessed the horrendous art of justice.
 
         To make these unfamiliar sights quite clear,
         I say that we had come out on a plain
         Which banishes all verdure from its bed.
 
10       The grief-stricken wood enwreathed it all
         Around, as the sad ditch surrounds the wood.
         Here, right at the edge, we checked our steps.
 
         Dry and dense sand covered the ground’s surface,
         A sand no different in its texture from
15       That the feet of Cato once trampled on.
 
         O vengeance of God, how much you ought to be
         Held in fear by everyone who reads
         The things that were revealed before my eyes!
 
         I saw myriad flocks of naked souls,
20       All weeping wretchedly, and it appeared
         That separate sentences were meted to them.
 
         Flat on their backs, some spread out on the ground;
         Some squatted down, all hunched up in a crouch;
         And others walked about interminably.
 
25       More numerous were those who roamed around;
         Fewer were those stretched out for the torture,
         But looser were their tongues to tell their hurt.
 
         Over all the sand, large flakes of flame,
         Falling slowly, came floating down, wafted
30       Like snow without a wind up in the mountains.
 
         Just like the flames which Alexander saw
         In the torrid regions of India
         Swarming to the ground upon his legions,
 
         So that he had his troops tramp down the soil,
35       The better to put out the flaming flakes
         And to prevent them spreading other fires,
 
         So descended the everlasting blaze
         By which the sand enkindled, just like tinder
         Under sparks from flint — doubling the pain.
 
40       Restlessly the dance of wretched hands
         Went on and on, on this side and on that,
         Beating off the freshly falling flames.
 
         I began, "Master, you can win out over
         Everything — except the arrogant demons
45       That sortied against us at the entrance gate —
 
         "Who is that giant who appears to ignore
         The fire, lying so scornful and scowling
         That the rain seems not to make him soften?"
 
         And that same wraith, when he observed how I
50       Questioned my guide about him, shouted out,
         "What I was alive, I am the same dead!
 
         "Though Jupiter wear out the smith from whom
         He seized in wrath the sharpened thunderbolt
         Which on my last day was to strike me down,
 
55       "Though he wear out the others, one by one,
         Serving at Mongibello’s soot-black forge —
         As he bellows, ‘Good Vulcan, help me! help me!’
 
         "The way he did on the battlefield at Phlegra —
         Though with his whole force he flash out at me,
60       Yet he will never have his fond revenge."
 
         My guide shot back at him so strongly that
         I had not heard him use such force before,
         "O Capaneus, since your insolent pride
 
         "Is still unquenched, you are chastised the more:
65       No torture other than your own mad ravings
         Can punish you enough for your grim rage."
 
         Then with a gentler look he turned to me,
         Saying, "That was one of the seven kings
         Who laid siege to Thebes; he held and seems
 
70       "To hold God in disdain and prize him little;
         But, as I told you, these affronts of his
         Are the right decorations for his chest.
 
         "Now follow me and watch you do not ever
         Set your feet upon the scorching sand,
75       But always keep them back close to the trees."
 
         In silence we next reached a spot where gushed
         Out of the wood a small and narrow brook
         Whose redness makes me still shudder with fear.
 
         As from the Bulicame flows a stream
80       Which prostitutes then share for their own use,
         So too these waters coursed across the sand.
 
         Its bed and both its banks were made of stone,
         As were the borders all along its sides,
         So that I saw our passage lay that way.
 
85       "Of all the things that I have shown to you
         From the time we entered through the gate
         Whose threshold is prohibited to none,
 
         "Nothing your eyes have looked on up to now
         Is so worthy of note as the stream before you
90       That quenches all the flames above its path."
 
         These were the words my guide addressed to me.
         At this I begged him to give me the food
         For which he had whetted my appetite.
 
         "In the middle of the sea there lies a wasteland,"
95       He then declared to me; "it is called Crete,
         Under whose king the world had once been chaste.
 
         "A mountain rises there that long delighted
         In plants and water: Ida is its name;
         Now it is deserted like a withered thing.
 
100     "Rhea once chose it for the trusted cradle
         Of her son and, the better to hide him,
         When he would cry she made her servants shout.
 
         "Within the mountain stands a huge Old Man
         Straight up, his back turned to Damietta;
105      He gazes at Rome as if into a mirror.
 
         "His head is molded out of refined gold;
         His arms and breast are fashioned in pure silver;
         Then he is made of brass down to his crotch.
 
         "From there on downward he is all choice iron,
110     Except that his right foot is hard-baked clay,
         And this foot he favors over the other.
 
         "But for the gold, all the parts are cracked
         By a fissure from which the tears drip out
         That, when collected, penetrate the chasm.
 
115     "The tears run from the rocks into the valley,
         Forming Acheron, Styx, and Phlegethon,
         Then take their course through the narrow sluice,
 
         "And, at the point where there is no way down,
         They form Cocytus; and what that pool is like
120     You shall see — I will not describe it here."
 
         And I responded, "If this rivulet
         Pours down in this way from our upper world,
         Why do we view it only at this fringe?"
 
         And he replied, "You know this place is round,
125      And, although you have traveled a good distance
         Bearing ever to the left toward the bottom,
 
         "You have not even yet turned a full circle.
         So then if something new appears to us,
         It should not bring such wonder to your looks."
 
130     And I again: "Master, where shall we find
         Phlegethon and Lethe? One you omit,
         The other you say is formed by tears of rain."
 
         "In all your questions truly you please me,"
         He answered; "but the boiling blood-red water
135      Surely should have solved one you have asked.
 
         "Lethe you will see — but beyond this chasm —
There where the souls alight to cleanse themselves
When their repented sins are wiped away."
         Then he told me, "Now it is time to leave
140      This wood. See that you walk in back of me:
         The margins form a path that does not burn,
 
         "And all the flames above them are snuffed out."

Nessus had not yet reached the other bank
         When we on this side moved into a wood
         That was not marked at all by any path:
 
         No leaves of green but of a blackish color,
5        No branches smooth but gnarled and tangled up,
         No fruits were growing, only thorns of poison.
 
         No wild beasts, shunning the furrowed farmlands
         Between Cecina and Corneto, burrow
         Underbrush that is so thick and barbed.
 
10       Inside here nest the repugnant Harpies
         Who chased the Trojans from the Strophades
         With foul prophecies of coming losses.
 
         They have wide wings, human necks and faces,
         Feet with claws, and big feathered bellies;
15       They shriek laments from up in the strange trees.
 
         "Before you enter farther," my kind master
         Began saying to me, "know you are here
         Within the second circle and will remain
 
         "Until you come out to the dreadful sand.
20       Look carefully, then, and you shall witness things
         That would destroy your faith in words of mine."
 
         I heard deep wailings rising from all sides,
         Without discerning anyone who made them,
         So that, completely baffled, I stopped short.
 
25       I think he thought that I was thinking that
         All of the voices from among the trunks
         Rose up from people who were hiding from us.
 
         My master said to me, "If you tear off
         A tiny twig from one of the growths here,
30       Your thoughts will also be nipped in the bud."
 
         Then reaching out my hand a bit ahead,
         I snapped a shoot off from a massive thornbush,
         And the trunk of it cried, "Why do you break me?"
 
         And after it had darkened with its blood,
35       It started up again, "Why do you rip me?
         Do you possess no pity in your soul?
 
         "Men we were and now we are mere stumps.
         Surely your hand ought to have been kinder
         Even if we had been the souls of serpents."
 
40       Just as a green log blazing at one end
         Oozes sap out of the other, all the while
         Hissing with the air that it blows out,
 
         So from that broken bough issued together
         Words and blood: at that I let the tip
45       Fall, standing like a man stricken with fear.
 
         To him my sage responded, "Wounded spirit,
         Had he been able to believe before
         What he had witnessed only in my verses,
 
         "He would not have raised his hand against you.
50       But so incredible a thing caused me
         To urge him to an act I now regret.
 
         "But tell him who you were, to make amends
         By refreshing your fame in the world above
         To which he is permitted to return."
 
55       And the trunk: "Your sweet words so attract me
         I cannot remain still, and be not loath
         If I become caught up in conversation.
 
         "I am the one who held both of the keys
         To Frederick's heart, and I turned them so,
60       Locking and unlocking, with such smoothness
 
         "That I kept his secrets almost from all men.
         I stayed so faithful to my glorious office
         That for its sake I lost both sleep and strength.
 
         "The jealous whore who never turns away
65       Her sluttish eyes from Caesar's palaces,
         The deadly plague and common vice of courts,
 
         "Inflamed the minds of all the rest against me,
         And those inflamed then so inflamed Augustus,
         That happy honors turned to tristful woes.
 
70      "My mind, because of its disdainful bent
         Believing it would flee disdain by dying,
         Made me unjust against my own just self.
 
         "By the fresh roots of this tree here I swear
         To you that never once did I break faith
75       With my lord who was worthy of such honor.
 
         "And should one of you return to the world,
         Bolster up my memory which still lies
         Flattened by the blow that envy gave it."
 
         Waiting a while, the poet next said to me,
80       "Since he is silent, do not lose the chance,
         But speak and ask him if you would hear more."
 
         To this I answered, "Do you ask him further
         Whatever you believe will satisfy me,
         For I cannot, such pity rends my heart."
 
85       So he began again, "That this man should
         Gladly perform what you request of him,
         Imprisoned spirit, may it yet please you
 
         "To tell us how the spirit is so bound
         Into these knots; and tell us if you can,
90       Are any ever freed from limbs like these?"
 
         At that the trunk puffed hard and afterward
         That breath was transformed to this speaking voice:
         "The answer I give you shall be concise.
 
         "Whenever the violent soul forsakes the flesh
95       From which it tore itself by its own roots,
         Minos assigns it to the seventh pit.
 
         "It plummets to the wood — no place is picked —
         But wherever fortune happens to have hurled it,
         There it sprouts up like a grain of spelt;
 
100     "It springs into a sapling and wild tree;
         The harpies, feeding on its foliage,
         Cause pain and then an outlet for the pain.
 
         "Like others we shall go to our shed bodies,
         But not to dress ourselves in them once more,
105     For it is wrong to own what you tossed off.
 
         "Here shall we haul them, and throughout the sad
         Wood forevermore shall our bodies hang,
         Each from the thornbush of its tortured shade."
 
         We both continued listening for the trunk,
110     Thinking it still might want to tell us more,
         When a loud uproar caught us by surprise,
 
         Just as a hunter is suddenly alarmed
         By the wild boar and chase — right at his post —
         Hearing the dogs bark and the branches crack.
.
115     And look! there on the left-hand side two wraiths,
         Naked and scratched, fleeing so frantically
         That they smashed all the bushes in the wood.
 
         The front one: "Now come quick, come quick, death!"
         The other, knowing himself out of the race,
120     Shouted, "Lano, your legs were not so nimble
 
         "When you jousted at the battle of Toppo!"
         And then, perhaps, from shortness of his breath,
         He crouched into a knot inside a thicket.
 
         In back of them the wood at once ran wild
125     With black bitches, ravenous and swift,
         Like greyhounds let loose from the leash.
 
         On the crouching shade they gripped their teeth
         And piece by piece they ripped him open-wide
         And then they carried off his wretched limbs.
 
130      Immediately my escort took my hand
         And led me forward to the bush that wept
         In vain laments through its bloody cuts:
 
         "O Jacopo da Sant' Andrea," it said,
         "What have you gained by making me your covert?
135     What blame have I for your own sinful life?"
 
         After my master had drawn up beside it,
         He asked, "Who were you who through many wounds
         Now breathe in blood your mournful speech to us?"
 
         And he told us, "O souls that have arrived
140      In time to see the dishonorable mangling
         Which here has torn my leaves away from me,
 
         "Gather them up at the foot of this sad bush.
         I was of the city that exchanged the Baptist
         For its first patron, Mars, for which reason
 
145     "He'll always make her regret it, with his art,
         And were it not that at the Arno's crossing
         There still remains some vestige of his statue,
 
         "Those citizens who later rebuilt the city
         Upon the ashes Attila left behind
150     Would have performed their labors without profit.
 
         "Of my own house I made myself a gallows."

The place where we had come to clamber down
         The bank was mountainous, and what was there
         So grim all eyes would turn away from it.
 
         Just like that rockslide on this side of Trent
5        That struck the flank of the Adige River —
         Either by an earthquake or erosion —
 
         Where, from the mountaintop it started down
         To the plain below, the boulders shattered so,
         For anyone above they formed a path,
 
10       Such was the downward course of that ravine;
         And at the brink over the broken chasm
         There lay outspread the infamy of Crete
 
         That was conceived within the bogus cow;
         And when he saw us, he bit into himself,
15       Like someone whom wrath tears up from inside.
 
         My clever guide cried out to him, "Perhaps
         You believe that this is the Duke of Athens
         Who in the upper world contrived your death?
 
         "Go off, you beast! this man does not approach
20       Instructed by your sister but comes here
         In order to observe your punishments."
 
         Just as the bull breaks loose right at that moment
         When he has been dealt the fatal blow
         And cannot run but jumps this way and that,
 
25       So I saw the Minotaur react —
         And my quick guide called out, "Run for the pass!
         While he's raging is our chance to get down!"
 
         And so we made our way down through the pile
         Of rocks which often slid beneath my feet
30       Because they were not used to holding weight.
 
         I pushed on, thinking, and he said, "You wonder,
         Perhaps, about that wreckage which is guarded
         By that bestial rage I just now quelled.
 
         "Now you should know that the other time
35       I journeyed here below to lower hell,
         These boulders as yet had not tumbled down:
 
         "But for certain, if I recall correctly,
         It was shortly before He came who took
         From Dis the great spoils of the topmost circle
 
40       "That this deep loathsome valley on all sides
         Trembled so, I thought the universe
         Felt love, because of which, as some believe,
 
         "The world has often been turned back to chaos.
         And at that instant this ancient rock split up,
45       Scattering like this, here and elsewhere.
 
         "But fasten your eyes below — down to the plain
         Where we approach a river of blood boiling
         Those who harm their neighbors by violence."
 
         O blind cupidity and rabid anger
50       Which so spur us ahead in our short life
         Only to steep us forever in such pain!
 
         I saw a broad ditch bent into a bow,
         As though holding the whole plain in its embrace,
         Just as my guide had explained it to me.
 
55       Between the ditch and the foot of the bank
         Centaurs came running single-file, armed
         With arrows as they hunted in the world.
 
         Seeing us descend, they all pulled up,
         And from their ranks three of them moved forward
60       With bows and with their newly selected shafts.
 
         And from afar one shouted, "To what tortures
         Do you approach as you climb down the slope?
         Answer from there, or else I draw my bow."
 
         My master said, "We will make our response
65       To Chiron there who hovers at your side —
         To your own harm, your will was always rash."
 
         Then he nudged me, and said, "That is Nessus,
         Who died for the lovely Dejanira
         By taking his own revenge upon himself;
 
70       "And in the middle, staring at his chest,
         Is mighty Chiron, who tutored Achilles;
         The last is Pholus, who was so full of frenzy."
 
         Thousands on thousands march around the ditch,
         Shooting at any soul that rises up
75       Above the blood more than its guilt allows.
 
         When we drew near to these fleet-footed beasts,
         Chiron took an arrow and with its notch
         Parted his shaggy beard back from his jaws,
 
         And when he had uncovered his huge mouth,
80       Said to his companions, "Have you noticed
         How that one there behind stirs what he touches?
 
         "A dead man's feet would not cause that to happen!"
         And my good guide, now standing at the chest
         Where the two natures fuse together, answered,
 
85       "He is indeed alive, and so alone
         That I must show him all the somber valley.
         Necessity not pleasure brings him here.
 
         "A spirit came from singing alleluia
         To commission me with this new office:
90       He is no robber nor I a thieving soul.
 
         "But by the power by which I move my steps
         Along this roadway through the wilderness,
         Lend us one of your band to keep by us
 
         "To lead us where we two can ford across
95       And there to carry this man on his back,
         For he is not a spirit who flies through air."
 
         Chiron pivoted around on his right breast,
         Saying to Nessus, "Go back and guide them — if
         Another troop challenges, drive them away!"
 
100     So with this trusted escort we moved on
         Along the bank of the bubbling crimson river
         Where boiling souls raised their piercing cries.
 
         There I saw people buried to their eyebrows,
         And the strong centaur said, "These are tyrants
105     Who wallowed in bloodshed and plundering.
 
         "Here they bewail their heartless crimes: here lie
         Both Alexander and fierce Dionysius
         Who brought long years of woe to Sicily;
 
         "And there with his head of jet-black hair
110      Is Azzolino; and that other blond one
         Is Opizzo d'Este, who in the world
 
         "Actually was slain by his own stepson."
         With that I turned to the poet, who said,
         "Now let him be your first guide, I your second."
 
115     A little farther on, the centaur halted
         Above some people who appeared to rise
         Out of the boiling stream up to their throats.
 
         He pointed to one shade off by himself,
         And said, "In God's own bosom, this one stabbed
120     The heart that still drips blood upon the Thames."
 
         Then I saw others too who held their heads
         And even their whole chests out of the stream,
         And many of them there I recognized.
 
         So the blood eventually thinned out
125     Until it scalded only their feet in it;
         And here we found a place to ford the ditch.
 
         "Just as you see, this side, the boiling brook
         Grow gradually shallower," the centaur said,
         "So I would also have you understand
 
130     "That on the other side the riverbed
         Slopes deeper down from here until it reaches
         Again the spot where tyranny must grieve.
 
         "Heavenly justice there strikes with its goads
         That Attila who was a scourge on earth
135     And Pyrrhus and Sextus, and forever milks
 
         "The tears, released by boiling blood from both
         Rinier of Corneto and Rinier Pazzo
         Who waged such open warfare on the highways."
 
         Then he turned back and once more crossed the ford.

On the ridgetop of a high embankment
         Shaped in a circle by huge broken rockfalls,
         We came above an even crueler fold:
 
         And here, because of the overwhelming stench
5        Which that bottomless abyss throws up,
         We recoiled — back behind the covering lid
 
         Of a large tomb where I saw inscribed
         These words: "I hold Pope Anastasius
         Whom Photinus lured from the straight path."
 
10       "We must delay our downward journey here
         So that our sense may gradually grow used
         To the foul gas-fumes; then we will not mind it."
 
         This my master said, and I replied,
         "Offset it somehow, so we may not lose
15       Our time." And he: "That is my thought exactly."
 
         "My son, within the boundary of these boulders,"
         He then began, — "are three smaller circles,
         From tier to tier, like those you leave behind.
 
         "All are crammed full of ill-stricken spirits —
20       But, that sheer sight later may suffice you,
         Listen to how and why they are held bound.
 
         "The aim of all malicious acts that merit
         Hatred in heaven is injustice: all such actions,
         By violence or by fraud, harm someone else.
 
25       "Since fraud, however, is man’s peculiar vice,
         It gives God more displeasure; the fraudulent, then,
         Lie lower down and more pain harries them.
 
         "The whole first circle is for the violent;
         But, as force is turned against three persons,
30       This first is fashioned in three separate rings.
 
         "On God, on self, and on one’s neighbor force
         Can turn: I mean, on them and on their goods,
         As you shall now hear logically set forth.
 
         "By violence come death and painful wounds
35       To one’s neighbor; and to his possessions
         Come hurtful wrecking, arson, and extortion.
 
         "So murderers, robbers, plunderers,
         And all who wrongly do bodily injury
         The first ring tortures in assorted ranks.
 
40       "A man may lay violent hands on himself
         And on his property: so in the second
         Ring each one must fruitlessly repent
 
         "Who wills to rob himself of your bright world,
         Gambles away or wastes his own belongings,
45       And grieves up there where he should rejoice.
 
         "Violence may be done against the Godhead
         By denial in the heart and blasphemy
         And by despising nature and her bounty.
 
         "And so the smallest ring has set its seal
50       On both Sodom and Cahors and all those
         Whose words betray their hearts’ contempt of God.
 
         "Fraud, that chews away at every conscience,
         A man may practice on one who trusts him
         Or on one who has no confidence in him.
 
55       "For those who trust not, only the link of love
         Which nature forges appears to be cut;
         Therefore, in the second circle nest
 
         "Hypocrites, flatterers, and sorcerers,
         Falsifiers, thieves, and simoniacs,
60       Panders, graft-takers, and all that trash.
 
         "For those who trust, both the love nature
         Forges is forgotten and the love
         Added to it that creates a special bond.
 
         "So, in the smallest circle, at the center
65       Of the universe and the seat of Dis,
         All traitors are eternally consumed."
 
         And I: "Master, the logic of your words
         Is crystal clear and well delineates
         The chasm and the people it contains.
 
70       "But tell me, those mired in the slimy marsh,
         Those the wind blasts and those the rain beats on
         And those that clash with such savage tongues,
 
         "Why aren’t they punished in the red-hot city
         If God holds them as well in his great wrath?
75       And if he does not, why are they in torment?"
 
         He said to me, "Why does your mind drift off
         So distantly from its accustomed pathway?
         Or do your thoughts now turn to other things?
 
80       "Do you not remember those passages
         In which your Ethics treats in full detail
         The three perversities opposed by heaven:
 
         "Incontinence, maliciousness, and raving
         Bestiality — and how incontinence,
         Offending God the least, incurs least blame?
 
85       "If you will study this teaching carefully
         And call to mind the people up above
         Who outside the city endure penances,
 
         "You’ll plainly see why they are set apart
         From these felons and why divine vengeance
90       Hammers at them there with lesser anger."
 
         "O sun that clears up every troubled vision,
         You so content me when you solve my doubts
         That doubting pleases me no less than knowing.
 
         "Once more go back a little to the point,"
95       I said, "where you state usury offends
         The divine goodness, and untie the knot."
 
         "Philosophy, to one who understands,
         Points out — and on more than one occasion —
         How nature gathers her entire course
 
100     "From divine intellect and divine art.
         And if you pore over your Physics closely,
         You’ll find, not many pages from the start,
 
         "That, when possible, your art follows nature
         As a pupil does his master; in effect,
105      Your art is like the grandchild of our God.
 
         "From art and nature, if you will recall
         The opening of Genesis, man is meant
         To earn his way and further humankind.
 
         "But still the usurer takes another way:
110      He scorns nature and her follower, art,
         Because he puts his hope in something else.
 
         "But follow me now since I want to go:
         For the Fish shimmer low on the horizon
         And all the Wain stretches over Caurus,
 
115     "And there, beyond, the road runs off the cliff."

Now, by a hidden passageway that wound
         Between the rack and ramparts of the city,
         My master travels and I after him.
 
         "O highest virtue who through these arrant rings
5         Lead me around as you please," I began,
         "Speak to me and satisfy my yearnings:
 
         "The people here who lie within the tombs,
         Can they be seen? Already all the lids
         Are raised off and no one is standing guard,"
 
10         And he responded, "They shall all be sealed
         When they come back here from Jehosaphat
         With the bodies that they have left up there.
 
         "In this section is found the cemetery
         Of Epicurus and his followers,
15       All those who claim the soul dies with the body.
 
         "So the question that you have put to me
         Soon shall be satisfied while we are here,
         As shall the wish that you have kept from me."
 
         And I: "Good guide, I do not hide my heart:
20       I only want now to have less to say
         As more than once before you prompted me."
 
         "O Tuscan, passing through the fiery city
         Alive and speaking with such frank decorum,
         Be kind enough to pause now in this place.
 
25       "Your way of talking makes it clear you come
         Of the stock born of that same noble city
         To which I was perhaps too troublesome."
 
         So suddenly had this sound issued from
         One of the coffins there that I trembled
30       And drew a little closer to my guide.
 
         "Turn around," he said. "What are you doing?
         Look here at Farinata straightening up!
         From waist high you will see the whole of him."
 
         I had already fixed my eyes on his
35       While he emerged with his forehead and chest,
         Looking as though he held hell in contempt.
 
         The quick, assuring hands of my leader
         Pushed me toward him between the sepulchers —
         He said, "Suit your words to the occasion."
 
40       When I had come up nearer to his tomb,
         He stared a moment and then, disdainfully,
         Questioned me, "Who were your ancestors?"
 
         I who was anxious to be dutiful
         Kept nothing back but told him everything.
45       At this he raised his brows ever so slightly,
 
         Then said, "They were so fiercely inimical
         To me and to my forebears and my party
         That twice I had to send them scampering."
 
         "Though they were driven out, yet from all sides
50       At both times they came back," I said to him;
         "But your men never really learned that art."
 
         At that there rose before my sight a shade
         Beside him — visible down to his chin —
         I guess he raised himself up on his knees.
 
55       He gazed all around me, as though intent
         To see if I were there with someone else,
         But when his hope had been completely dashed,
 
         Tearfully he said, "If you journey through
         This blind prison by reason of high genius,
60       Where is my son? Why is he not with you?"
 
         I answered, "I do not journey on my own:
         He who awaits there leads me through this place —
         Perhaps your Guido had felt scorn for him."
 
         His question and his form of punishment
65       Allowed me already to read his name;
         On that account, my answer was so full.
         Suddenly he stood and cried out, "How?
         You said ‘had felt’? Is he not still alive?
         Does not the lovely light still strike his eyes?"
 
70       And when he had observed my hesitation
         Before I answered him, he shrank back down
         And would not show his face to me again.
 
         That noble-hearted shade at whose request
         I’d halted my steps did not change his look
75

That color cowardice painted on my face,
When I had seen my leader turned around,
More quickly caused him to repress his pallor.

Attentive he halted, like a man listening,
Because his eyes could not lead him on farther
Through the blackening air and thickening fog.

"Yet we must overcome and win this fight —"
He began, "if not — so much offered us —
How long it seems before somebody comes!"

I saw quite clearly how he covered up
What he began to say with what then followed:
His last words were so different from his first.

Nevertheless, his speech made me afraid
Because I drew out from his broken phrases
A meaning worse perhaps than what they had.

"Down to the bottom of this sorry pit
Do any ever climb from the first level
Where the only punishment is severed hope?"

This question I put to him; he replied,
"Rarely it happens that any one of us
Makes the journey I am making now.

"True, once before I was here below,
Conjured by that heartless Erichtho
Who summoned shades back to their own bodies.

"Shortly after I’d been stripped of flesh
She made me enter inside that same wall
To draw a soul back from the zone of Judas.

"That place is the lowest and the darkest
And the farthest from all-encircling heaven.
I know the pathway well, so rest assured.

"The marshland that breathes out a monstrous stench
Girdles all about the tear-racked city
Where now we cannot enter without wrath."

And more he said, but it escapes my mind
For my eye had completely drawn me upward
To the high tower with the flame-tipped top

Where at one spot there straightaway stood up
Three infernal Furies stained with blood,
Their bodies and behavior that of women.

Their waists were cinctured with green hydras;
For hair they had horned snakes and poison adders
With which their savage temples were enwreathed.

And clearly recognizing the handmaidens
Of the Queen of unending mournfulness,
He said to me, "Look at the fierce Erinyes:

"That one there on the left is Megaera,
And on the right is Alecto, wailing;
Tisiphone is in the middle." He ceased.

With her nails each one tore at her own breasts,
Thrashed with her hands, and shouted out so loud
That in dread I drew closer to the poet.

"Bring on Medusa! We’ll turn him to stone!"
They all screeched out together, staring down;
"We ill revenged the raid of Theseus!"

"Turn your back now and keep your eyes shut tight,
For should the Gorgon come and you see her
You would not return to the world above."

So spoke my master. He himself turned me
Around and, not relying on my hands,
Covered my face as well with his own palms.

O you possessing sound intelligence,
Study well the doctrine which lies hidden
Under the veil of my unusual verse!

For now there came upon the muddy waves
A blasting sound, a fear-inspiring roar,
Causing both sides of the shore to tremble:

Not unlike the blast made by the wind,
Turbulent from changing temperatures,
Which strikes the forest and without check

Breaks and knocks down boughs, blows them away,
Sweeping on proudly with a cloud of dust
And chasing off shepherds and wild animals.

He freed my eyes and told me, "Now direct
Your eyesight straight into that ancient scum,
Right there to where the fog is hanging thickest."

Just as the frogs before their enemy
The snake all disappear into the water
Until each one squats down upon the bottom,

I saw more than a thousand wasted souls
Fleeing from the path of one who strode
Dry-shod above the waters of the Styx.

Often he brushed the foul air from his face,
Rhythmically moving his left hand out in front,
And only with that bother appeared weary.

Easily I knew that he was sent from heaven,
And I turned to my master, but he signaled
That I stay still and bow down there to him.

Ah how full of deep disdain he seemed to me!
He then approached the gate, and with a wand
He opened it without the least resistance.

"O outcasts from heaven, detested race,"
He now began upon the horrid threshold,
"Why is this insolence so settled in you?

"Why are you opponents to that Will
Which cannot be dissevered from its end
And which has often swelled your sufferings?

"What good is it to butt against the Fates?
Your Cerberus, as you should well recall,
For just that had his chin and gullet peeled!"

Then he turned back along the filthy road
Without a word to us, but with the look
Of someone pressed and spurred by other cares

Than those that lie right there in front of him.
And we walked on, straight forward to the city,
Through the safe-conduct of his sacred words.

Without a fight we went directly in,
And I, filled with a longing to find out
The state of those shut up within that fortress,

Once I was inside, cast my eyes around
And saw, on every side, a vast landscape
Rife with distress and wretched punishment.

Just as at Arles, where the Rhone is stagnant,
Just as at Pola, near Quarnero’s gulf
That closes Italy and bathes her borders,

The sarcophagi make all the ground uneven,
So did they here, lying every whichway,
Except that their condition was far worse.

For there among the tombs were scattered flames
That made them glow all over with more heat
Than any craftsman requires for his iron.

All of their open lids were lifted up,
And from inside such harsh laments escaped
As would come from the wretched and the injured.

And I: "Master, who are these people that,
Entombed within these chests of solid stone,
Make themselves felt by their distressful sighs?"

And he told me, "Here lie the arch-heretics
With their disciples, from all sects, and more
Than you’ll believe are loaded in these tombs.

"Like soul lies buried here encased with like;
Some monuments are hotter and some less."
And then he made a turn to the right hand:

We passed between the torments and high walls.