The Online Library of Liberty

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• Ave Dante
• Preface
• Inferno I
• Inferno Ii
• Inferno Iii
• Inferno Iv
• Inferno V
• Inferno Vi
• Inferno Vii
• Inferno Viii
• Inferno Ix
• Inferno X
• Inferno Xi
• Inferno Xii
• Inferno Xiii
• Inferno Xiv
• Inferno Xv
• Inferno Xvi
• Inferno Xvii
• Inferno Xviii
• Inferno Xix
• Inferno Xx
• Inferno Xxi
• Inferno Xxii
• Inferno Xxiii
• Inferno Xxiv
• Inferno Xxv
• Inferno Xxvi
• Inferno Xxvii
• Inferno Xxviii
• Inferno Xxix
• Inferno Xxx
• Inferno Xxxi
• Inferno Xxxii
• Inferno Xxxiii
• Inferno Xxxiv

INFERNO XXIII

• Silent, alone, and unaccompanied,
• we went along, one first and one behind,
• as Minor Friars go when on the road.

• My thoughts, by reason of the present brawl,
• were turned to Aesop’s fable, that wherein
• he talks about the frog and mouse; for ‘now’
• and ‘at this moment’ are no more alike,
• than one is like the other, if beginning
• and end be linked by an attentive mind.
• And ev’n as one thought from another springs,
• so, next, from that one was another born,
• which doubled my first fear. Hence thus I thought:
• “These devils have been scorned on our account,
• and with such injury and scoff, indeed,
• that I believe that they are greatly vexed.
• If anger to ill-will be joined, they ’ll come
• more fiercely after us, than doth a dog
• the rabbit which he seizes with his teeth.”

• Already was I feeling all my hair
• bristling with fear, when, gazing back intent,
• I said: “If, Teacher, thou hide not thyself

• and me with speed, I dread the Evilclaws;
• we have them now behind us, and I so
• imagine them, that I already feel them.”

• And he: “If I were made of leaded glass,
• thine outward image I would not reflect
• more quickly than thine inward I receive.
• Even now thy thoughts were coming among mine
• with outlook and intent so similar,
• that I with both a single purpose formed.
• If it be true the right bank slopeth so,
• that to the following trench we can descend,
• we shall escape from this imagined chase.”

• He had not finished telling me his plan,
• when not far off I saw them coming on
• with wings outspread, intent on seizing us.

• My Leader then took hold of me at once,
• even as a mother, by the noise aroused,
• and seeing close to her the burning flames,
• seizes her child and flees, and doth not stop,
• since caring more for him than for herself,
• even long enough to clothe her with a shift;
• and downward from the ridge of that hard bank,
• his back he yielded to the hanging rock,
• which closes one side of the following trench.

• Water ne’er moved as swiftly through a sluice,
• to turn the overshot wheel of a mill,
• when closest to the paddles it approaches,

• as did my Teacher o’er that selvage-bank,
• bearing me down with him upon his back,
• as though his son I were, and not his mate.

• His feet had hardly reached the trench’s bed
• below, when they were on the ridge above,
• just over us; but naught was now to fear;
• because the Providence on high, which willed
• to place them in the fifth trench as its servants,
• takes from them all the power of leaving it.

• A painted people found we there below,
• who, moving with exceedingly slow steps,
• shed tears, and in their looks appeared subdued
• and weary. Cloaks they had equipped with cowls
• lowered before their eyes, and cut like those
• which in Cologne are fashioned for her monks.
• So gilded outside are they that they dazzle;
• but inside all are lead, and of such weight,
• that those which Frederick clothed men with were straw.
• O cloak that wearies through eternity!

• We turned again, as ever, to the left,
• along with them, intent on their sad plaint;
• but, owing to the weight, that weary folk
• came on so slowly, that new company
• we had at every motion of our legs.
• Hence to my Leader I: “Contrive to find
• some one whom we may know by deed or name,
• and, while thus going, move thine eyes around.”

• And one, who heard my Tuscan speech, cried out
• behind us: “Stay your feet, O ye that run
• so quickly through the gloomy air! From me,
• perhaps, shalt thou receive what thou dost ask.”
• Thereat my Leader turned and said: “Now wait;
• and then proceed according to his pace.”

• I stopped, and two I saw, whose faces showed
• great mental haste to be with me, and yet
• their burden and the narrow path delayed them.
• On coming up to us, they watched me long
• with eyes askance, and uttered not a word;
• then, toward each other turning, thus they spoke:
• “This one seems by the action of his throat
• alive; but if they ’re dead, by what right, then,
• go they uncovered by the heavy stole?”

• And then, addressing me, they said: “O Tuscan,
• who to the gathering of sad hypocrites
• art come, scorn not to tell us who thou art.”

• And I to them: “On Arno’s lovely stream,
• and in its famous town, both born and bred,
• I’m in the body I have always had.
• But who are ye, adown whose cheeks there drips,
• as I perceive, so great a woe, and what
• the penalty which sparkles on you thus?”

• “These orange cloaks,” one answered, “are of lead,
• and of such thickness are they, that the weights
• thus cause the scales that balance them to creak.

• We Jovial Friars were, and Bolognese;
• I, Catalàn, and Loderingo he,
• by name, and chosen by thy town together,
• as one alone is usually called,
• to keep its peace; and such we were, as still
• in the Gardingo’s neighborhood appears.”

• “O friars,” I began, “your evil deeds . . .”
• but said no more; because there struck mine eyes
• one crucified by three stakes on the ground.
• On seeing me, sighs through his beard he blew,
• and writhed all over; then Fra Catalàn,
• informed thereby of what had happened, said:

• “The pinioned man thou gazest at, advised
• the Pharisees that it expedient was
• to torture one man for the people’s sake.
• Stretched crosswise, as thou seest, on the road,
• and naked, he is forced to be the first
• to feel how much whoever passes weighs.
• And in like fashion suffer in this ditch
• his father-in-law, and others of the council
• which proved a seed of evil for the Jews.”

• I then saw Virgil marvelling at him,
• who in the figure of a cross was stretched
• so basely in eternal banishment.

• Then to the friar he addressed these words:
• “Be not displeased to tell us, an ye may,
• if on the right there lie a crossing-place,

• by means of which we two may issue hence,
• without black Angels being forced to come
• and extricate us from this trench’s bed.”

• “Nearer than thou dost hope” he then replied,
• “a crag there is, which at the great round wall
• begins, and all the cruel trenches spans,
• save that at this one it is broken down,
• and spans it not; but ye can climb the ruins,
• which from its base lie piled along the slope.”

• My Leader kept his head bowed down awhile;
• then said: “Wrongly did he report the thing,
• who yonder grapples sinners with his hook!”

• The friar then: “Among the many vices given
• the Devil at Bologna, I once heard
• that he a liar is, and sire of lies.”

• Thereat my Leader with great strides departed,
• somewhat disturbed by anger in his looks;
• then I the burdened left, and followed on
• behind the footprints of belovèd feet.