Who, even in words unfettered, might at full tell of the wounds and blood now seen? No tongue so vast a theme could equal. All who ever poured blood on Apulia's soil, rings piled high, Guiscard's steel, Ceperano, Tagliacozzo: a spectacle like this were nought to the ninth chasm. A rundlet that has lost its stave gapes not so wide as one Dante marks, torn from the chin throughout, entrails dangling. The man lays his breast bare: now mark how I do rip me; lo, how is Mohammed mangled. Before me walks Ali weeping, his face cleft from the chin to the forelock. The others sowed scandal and schism, and therefore thus are rent. A fiend behind, with his sword, slivers each of this ream when they have compassed the way, for first the gashes close. More than a hundred spirits stand amazed, forgetful of their pangs, to mark the living man. Mohammed, foot upraised, then fixed to depart: bear this warning to Dolcino; with good store of food arm him, lest imprisoning snows yield him to Novara.
Another, pierced in the throat, one ear lopt off, bares a wind-pipe o'ersmeared with crimson. Call thou to mind Piero of Medicina, and instruct Fano's worthiest sons that a one-eyed traitor shall whelm them under the waves near Cattolica. He lays his hand on a fellow's jaws: this is he who overwhelmed the doubt in Caesar's mind, affirming that delay to men prepared was ever harmful. Curio's tongue, which spake that hardy word, is cut from the throat. Then one maimed of each hand uplifts the bleeding stumps: remember Mosca too, I who exclaimed, the deed once done there is an end, that proved a seed of sorrow to the Tuscan race. Dante adds: ay, and death to thine own tribe. Heaping woe on woe he hurries off, as one grief stung to madness.
Conscience buckles her breast-plate on him that feels no guilt within, so Dante tells what still seems to pass before him: a headless trunk pacing with the flock, the severed member borne lantern-wise by the hair, which looked at them and said, woe's me. Two there were in one, and one in two. At the bridge's foot the arm rears, thrusting the head full in view. Behold if any else be terrible as this. I am Bertrand, he of Born, who gave King John the counsel mischievous. Father and son I set at mutual war. For Absalom and David more did not Ahitophel. For parting those so closely knit, my brain parted I carry from its source, that in this trunk inhabits. Thus the law of retribution fiercely works in me.
