Excerpt
CANTO XVIII
THERE is a place within the depths of hellCall'd Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain'dWith hue ferruginous, e'en as the steepThat round it circling winds. Right in the midstOf that abominable region, yawnsA spacious gulf profound, whereof the frameDue time shall tell. The circle, that remains,Throughout its round, between the gulf and baseOf the high craggy banks, successive formsTen trenches, in its hollow bottom sunk.As where to guard the walls, full many a fossBegirds some stately castle, sure defenceAffording to the space within, so hereWere model'd these; and as like fortressesE'en from their threshold to the brink without,Are flank'd with bridges; from the rock's low baseThus flinty paths advanc'd, that 'cross the molesAnd dikes, struck onward far as to the gulf,That in one bound collected cuts them off.Such was the place, wherein we found ourselvesFrom Geryon's back dislodg'd. The bard to leftHeld on his way, and I behind him mov'd.On our right hand new misery I saw,New pains, new executioners of wrath,That swarming peopled the first chasm. BelowWere naked sinners. Hitherward they came,Meeting our faces from the middle point,With us beyond but with a larger stride.E'en thus the Romans, when the year returnsOf Jubilee, with better speed to ridThe thronging multitudes, their means deviseFor such as pass the bridge; that on one sideAll front toward the castle, and approachSaint Peter's fane, on th' other towards the mount.Each divers way along the grisly rock,Horn'd demons I beheld, with lashes huge,That on their back unmercifully smote.Ah! how they made them bound at the first stripe!None for the second waited nor the third.Meantime as on I pass'd, one met my sightWhom soon as view'd; "Of him," cried I, "not yetMine eye hath had his fill." With fixed gazeI therefore scann'd him. Straight the teacher kindPaus'd with me, and consented I should walkBackward a space, and the tormented spirit,Who thought to hide him, bent his visage down.But it avail'd him nought; for I exclaim'd:"Thou who dost cast thy eye upon the ground,Unless thy features do belie thee much,Venedico art thou. But what brings theeInto this bitter seas'ning?" He replied:"Unwillingly I answer to thy words.But thy clear speech, that to my mind recallsThe world I once inhabited, constrains me.Know then 'twas I who led fair GhisolaTo do the Marquis' will, however fameThe shameful tale have bruited. Nor aloneBologna hither sendeth me to mournRather with us the place is so o'erthrong'dThat not so many tongues this day are taught,Betwixt the Reno and Savena's stream,To answer SIPA in their country's phrase.And if of that securer proof thou need,Remember but our craving thirst for gold."Him speaking thus, a demon with his thongStruck, and exclaim'd, "Away! corrupter! hereWomen are none for sale." Forthwith I join'dMy escort, and few paces thence we cameTo where a rock forth issued from the bank....