There is a place within the depths of hell called Malebolge, rock dark-stained with ferruginous hue, even as the steep that circles it. Right in the midst yawns a spacious gulf, of which due time shall tell. Between gulf and craggy banks, ten trenches are sunk in the hollow bottom, modelled as fosses that begird a castle, flanked with bridges from threshold to brink. Flinty paths advance across moles and dikes as far as the gulf that cuts them off in one bound. From Geryon's back they are dislodged here. Virgil holds left; Dante moves behind.
On the right, new misery, new executioners. Naked sinners in the first chasm come meeting their faces from the middle point, with a larger stride beyond, as Romans at Jubilee split the bridge: one side toward the castle and Saint Peter's, the other toward the mount. Horned demons with huge lashes smite their backs. They bound at the first stripe; none waits for the second or the third. Dante's eye has not had its fill of one who tries to hide his visage. It avails nought. Thou who dost cast thy eye upon the ground, Venedico art thou. Unwillingly he answers: it was I who led fair Ghisola to do the Marquis' will, however fame has bruited the tale. Nor alone: Bologna sends so many that not so many tongues this day are taught, betwixt Reno and Savena, to answer sipa. Remember our craving thirst for gold. A demon strikes with his thong: away, corrupter; here women are none for sale. They ascend a rock and pause under the gaping arch. Behold that lofty shade, too woe-begone to drop a tear, yet the regal aspect he retains. Jason, whose skill won the ram from Colchos. On Lemnos, with tokens and fair witching words, he beguiled Hypsipyle, who had beguiled the rest, and left her forlorn. Here too Medea's injuries are avenged. All who like deceit have practised bear him company.
Crossing to another arch, they hear the second chasm: ghosts who jibber, snort with wide-stretched nostrils, and smite themselves. A scurf from foul steam hangs on the banks, at war with sight and smell. Only from the summit of the rocky span can Dante distinguish aught: a crowd immersed in ordure, draff of the human body. One head so grimed it is hard to deem clerk or layman. Why greedily bend more on me? Because, Dante says, I have seen thee with dry locks: Alessio of Lucca. Beating on his brain: me thus low down my flatteries have sunk, wherewith I ne'er enough could glut my tongue. Virgil: stretch thy face; note that besotted courtezan who rends herself with defiled nails, now crouching, now on her feet. Thais, whose false lip answered her doting paramour that asked, Thankest me much, with Say rather wondrously. Seeing this, here satiate be our view.
