Inferno: Canto XVIII

There is in hell a place, stone-built throughout,
Call'd Malebolge — of an iron hue.
Like to the wall that circles it about.

Full in the middle of this baleful land
Yawns the deep gulf, of ample size to view.
Whose form in proper place shall be explain'd.

The circling boundary that remains beside,
'Twixt the rock's basis and the gulf profound.
Ten bastions to its lowest depth divide.

As is the form presented to the eye
By fortresses, whose massive walls around
Run numerous trenches for security;

Such was the semblance which these dikes displayed:
And from the threshold of such castles strong,
As bridges to the outer bank are laid;

So from the basis of the rock extend
Bridges, across the moles and vallies flung,
Far as the ample gulf in which they end.

Here was it, that, released from Geryon's back,
We found ourselves; and then the poet drew
On tow'rds the left, and I pursued his track.

Upon the right new tortures I beheld.
New pains, and ministers of vengeance new.
With which the first recess throughout was fill'd.

Down in the gulf were naked souls descried;
Some from the middle were advancing— some
Were journeying with us, but with greater stride.

So o'er the bridge, the concourse to convey.
Which flocks, the year of Jubilee, to Rome,
Means are devised to form a double way, —

That on the one side, all preserve in front
The castle, to St. Peter's as they throng, —
All on the other, journey to the Mount.

Now here, now there, upon the ramparts high
Horn'd fiends with rods enormous ran along.
Smiting the sinners' backs most cruelly.

Alas! how from the lash, excoriate
At the first stripe, with swiftest heels they fled;
A second or a third none dare await!

As we proceeded, one I chanced to see,
Whose face beholding, instantly I said:
"Surely his features are not new to me."

Wherefore I paused, to call him to my mind;
His footsteps too my gracious guide withheld.
Giving me leave awhile to turn behind.

The suffering wretch, who thought his face to hide.
Bent down his head; but little it avail'd:
"Thou — who art looking on the ground," I cried,

"Unless thy features do thy name belie,
Caccianimico must thou be: but tell.
What to such pungent torture makes thee hie?"

"Reluctantly," he said, "shalt thou be told
What thy clear speech compels me to reveal.
Recalling to my mind the days of old.

Know I am he, who urged fair Ghisola
To yield obedience to the Marquis' will;
This is the truth — whatever fame may say.

We Bolognese so greatly here abound.
That not 'twixt Reno and Savena's rill
So many tongues, I deem, could now be found,

Who utter Sipa in their country's phrase,
If proof of my assertion thou wouldst have.
Recall to mind our avaricious ways,"

Him as he spake, a demon in his ire
Smote with his lash, and said: "Begone, vile slave.
Here are no women to be let for hire."

I hastened to rejoin my faithful guide:
Then shortly came we, where appeared in sight
A bridge, projecting from the rocky side:

O'er this full easily our steps we drew.
And, mounting its high ridges on the right.
To those eternal barriers bade adieu.

Arriving where the opening arch supplies
A passage to the tortured souls, my guide
Exclaim'd: "Now pause awhile, and fix thine eyes

Upon the rest of this ill-fated race;
For as they've journied hither by our side.
Thou can'st not hitherto have seen their face."

From the old bridge we then survey'd the band,
That tow'rds us from the other coast drew near,
Driven onward in like manner by the brand.

To me unask'd my gracious master said:
"Behold that mighty one approaching here.
Who in his sorrow deigns no tear to shed.

How well he yet retains the royal port!
Jason is this, whose skill and hardihood
The golden fleece from ancient Colchis brought:

Through Lemnos' isle he pass'd upon his way,
What time th' inexorable females rude
Consign'd their males to cruel death a prey.

There, with smooth words and winning flattery,
Beguiled he her who first had practised guile
On her companions— young Hypsipyle.

He left the damsel pregnant and forlorn.
And here is punish'd for his treachery vile.
Here too Medea's wrongs he's doom'd to mourn:

Deceivers like to him these sufferings share.
This much let it suffice thee to have heard
Of the first round, and those in penance there."

Now came we where the narrow causeway pass'd
E'en from the second mole unto the third;
Its arms from one unto the other cast.

Thence in th' ensuing vault a tribe were seen,
Snorting, and muttering, with the filth opprest,
Who smote themselves the while with hands unclean.

The banks were crusted o'er with scum, that rose
In steam from the abyss, and form'd a paste,
Much to the annoyance of the eyes and nose.

So deep the bottom, that to gain a sight
'Twas needful up the bridge to clamber first.
And take a survey from its utmost height.

Here we arrived; and, in the trench below.
Spirits I saw in ordure foul immersed.
Which, as it seem'd, to man its source did owe.

And while I gazed beneath with zeal increased,
One I beheld with so bedaub'd a head,
I could not tell the layman from the priest.

"Wherefore art thou so greedily inclined
To look on me above the rest?" he said:
"Because," I cried, "if well I call to mind.

Thee have I seen, when erst thy hair was dry,
In Lucca bred, Interminei thy name;
Wherefore I scan thee With more curious eye."

Striking his head, to me he then replied:
"'Twas flattery plunged me in this place of shame.
With which my tongue was never satisfied."

Forthwith the master said: "Now prithee stretch
A little further in advance thy brow;
So that thine eyesight may distinctly reach

The head of that vile courtesan unclean.
Who tears herself with filthy nails; and now
Appears recumbent — upright now is seen —

Thais, the harlot, — who, when Thraso cried,
"Say will the thanks I shall receive from thee
Be many?' 'Oh! a mighty load!' replied:

This having view'd, our eyes may sated be."