Inferno: Canto XXIII

Silent, apart, and without escort we went on, the one before and the other after; as Minor Friars go their way.

My thought was turned, by the present strife, to Æsop’s fable where he [spoke] of the frog and mouse:

for Ay and Yea pair not better, than does the one case with the other, if with attentive mind the beginning and end of each be well accoupled.

And as one thought from the other springs, so arose from that another then, which made my first fear double.

I thus bethought me: “These through us are put to scorn, and with damage and mockery of such sort, as I believe must greatly vex them.

If rage be added to their malice, they will pursue us, fiercer than [the] dog that leveret which he snaps.”

Already I felt my hair all rise with fear; and was looking back intently, as I said: “Master, if thou do not hide thyself and me speedily, I dread the Malebranche:

they are already after us; I so imagine them that I hear them now.”

And he: “If I were of leaded glass, I should not draw thy outward image more quickly to me, than I impress that from within.

Even now thy thoughts [were] enter[ing] among mine, with similar act and similar face; so that of both I have made one resolve.

In case the right coast so slopes, that we may descend into the other chasm, we shall escape the imagined chase.”

He had not ended giving this resolve, when I saw them come with wings extended, not far off, in will to seize us.

My Guide suddenly took me, as a mother—that is awakened by the noise, and near her sees the kindled flames—

who takes her child and flies, and caring more for him than for herself, pauses not so long as even to cast a shift about her;

and down from the ridge of the hard bank, supine he gave himself to the pendent rock, which dams up one side of the other chasm.

Never did water run so fast through spout to turn a land-mill’s wheel, when it approaches nearest to the ladles,

as my Master down that bank, carrying me away upon his breast, as his son and not as his companion.

Scarcely had his feet reached the bed of the depth below, when they [were on] the height above us; but no fear it gave him:

for the high Providence, that willed to place them ministers of the fifth ditch, takes the power of leaving it from all.

There beneath we found a painted people, who were going round with steps exceeding slow, weeping, and in their look tired and overcome.

They had cloaks on, with deep hoods before their eyes, made in the shape that they make for the monks in Cologne.

Outward they are gilded, so that it dazzles; but within all lead, and so heavy, that compared to them were straw.

O weary mantle for eternity! We turned again to the left hand, along with them, intent upon their dreary weeping;

but that people, tired by their burden, came so slowly that our company was new at every movement of the hip.

Wherefore I to my Guide: “See that thou find some one who may by deed or name be known; and move thy eyes around as we go on.”

And one, who understood the Tuscan speech, cried after us: “Stay your feet, ye who run so fast through the brown air;

perhaps thou shalt obtain from me that which thou askest.” Whereat my Guide turned round and said: “Wait, and then at his pace proceed.”

I stood still, and saw two, showing by their look great haste of mind to be with me; but the load and the narrow way retarded them.

When they came up, long with eye askance they viewed me, without uttering a word; then they turned to one another, and said between them:

“This one seems alive by the action of his throat; and if they are dead, by what privilege go they divested of the heavy stole?”

Then they said to me: “O Tuscan, that art come to the college of the sad hypocrites! to tell us who thou art disdain not.”

And I to them: “On Arno’s beauteous river, in the great city I was born and grew; and I am with the body that I have always had.

But you, who are ye from whom distils such sorrow as I see, down your cheeks? and what punishment is on ye that glitters so?”

And one of them replied to me: “Our orange mantles are of lead so thick, that the weights thus cause their scales to creak.

We were Jovial Friars, and Bolognese: I named Catalano, and Loderingo he; and by thy city chosen together,

as usually one solitary man is chosen, to maintain its peace; and we were such, that it yet appears round the Gardingo.”

I began: “O Friars, your evil”—but said no more, for to my eyes came one, cross-fixed in the ground with three stakes.

When he saw me, he writhed all over, blowing into his beard with sighs; and Friar Catalano, who perceived this,

said to me: “That confixed one, on whom thou gazest, counselled the Pharisees that it was expedient to put one man to tortures for the people.

Traverse and naked he is upon the road, as thou seest; and has to feel the weight of every one that passes;

and after the like fashion his father-in-law is racked in this ditch, and the others of that Council, which was a seed of evil for the Jews.”

Then I saw Virgil wonder over him that was distended on the cross so ignominiously in the eternal exile.

Afterwards he to the Friar addressed these words: “Let it not displease you, so it be lawful for you, to tell us if on the right hand lies any gap

by which we both may go out hence, without constraining any of the Black Angels to come and extricate us from this bottom.”

So he answered: “Nearer than thou dost hope, there is a stone that moves from the great circular wall, and bridges all the cruel valleys, save that in this ’tis broken and covers it not:

you [will be able to] mount up by its ruins, which slope down the side, and on the bottom make a heap.”

The Guide stood still a while with head bent down, then said: “Falsely did he tell the way, who hooks the sinners yonder.”

And the Friar: “I heard once at Bologna many of the Devil’s vices told; amongst which, I heard that he is a liar and the father of lies.”

Then with large steps my Guide went on, somewhat disturbed with anger in his look; whereat I from the laden spirits parted, following the prints of his beloved feet.