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louder, wheeled like starlings in their flight,

      screaming onwards like cranes hopeless of rest 40

      or lesser pains. “Master,” cried I, “name some

      so mercilessly whipped by this dark air.”

      He said, “There’s one whose history you know – 43

      wife of a king who made her empress queen

      of all the lands now ruled by the Sultan.

      Her sexual appetites were so obscene 46

      she legalised all kinds of viciousness.

      Her name is Semiramis. Dido there

      49 swore she would only wed one man. Him dead,

      she took instead another mate and then

      committed suicide when he escaped –

      52 Helen of Troy, so opportunely raped –

      Cleopatra whose expertise in love

      was legend – see too the many men –

      55 Paris – Achilles – Tristan – Lancelot—”

      He pointed out so many souls condemned

      for fleshly lust, it filled me with dismay

      58 to see such noble people led astray

      by love that ought to be our greatest joy.

      “Poet,” I said, “let me talk with that pair

      61 who seem more gently carried by the air.”

      Said he, “If they come near enough to hear

      Invite them by the love they clearly share.”

      64 The wind now tossed them close. “O harried souls,”

      I cried, “if none forbid, please talk to me!”

      Like homing doves they glided to my side.

      67 One said, “Dear good and kindly living soul

      who frees us briefly from our storm-tossed state,

      if we could pray we’d pray that you find rest –

      70 that blessed rest that cannot be our fate.

      The only way to show our gratitude

      for these few moments out of whirling Hell

      73 is telling you all that you wish to know.

      My birthplace was a town where River Po

      enters the sea. I married lovelessly

      a hard old man. His brother at my side 76

      whom I love still, had youth and gentleness.

      As he enjoyed my body we were found

      and slain. Our killer’s place in Hell will be 79

      among the murderers who followed Cain.”

      Sighing, I bowed my head. My guide enquired,

      “What thought distresses you?” “Sorrow for youth 82

      and what befalls youth’s sweetness,”

      I replied, “Francesca, please believe I pity you,

      but tell me what occurred that led you to 85

      the deed you knew was sin.”

      “Worst grief,” said she,

      “is happiness recalled in misery.

      Your master knows this well and if you need 88

      to understand, I’ll tell as you command.

      To pass an idle hour one afternoon

      we chanced to read of how Sir Lancelot 91

      was overcome by love of Guinevere.

      This youth who never shall depart from me

      trembling all over, dared to kiss my mouth. 94

      That book seduced us. There’s no more to say

      except, of course, we read no more that day.”

      She wept. The other spirit wept – me too. 97

      The three of us shed tears without restraint.

      Because I could not give them any help

      I clutched my head and fell down in a faint. 100

      6: Cerberus. Doom of Gluttons

      1 Returning to my senses once again

      from sorrow that confused them utterly,

      I saw a different multitude in pain,

      4 not reeling, writhing, spirits spinning round,

      but corpulences stuck in muddy ground

      under a freezing hard unending rain

      7 of filthy water, hailstones, blasts of snow

      descending through a murkiness of fog

      to make the earth below a stinking bog

      10 from which the sunken souls halfway protrude.

      Across this mire prowls a rude vicious beast

      three-headed, each head howling like a dog.

      13 His name is Cerberus, his eyes blood-red,

      black hair and beards befouled by greasy phlegm,

      his belly gross, each paw with knife-like claws

      16 that stab and rip sinners they prance upon,

      who also howl like dogs. They cannot stop

      squirming to turn their downside up again

      19 to shield their upside from the dreadful rain.

      Cerberus, glaring on us, snarled and showed

      three pairs of open jaws with dragon fangs,

      his body twitching, bristled to attack. 22

      My guide stooped swiftly, scooped up blood-rich mud,

      then accurately flung a handful down

      each throat. Howling and snarling stopped at once. 25

      Like hungry hound gorging on juicy bone

      he left the damned alone as we moved on

      across the swamp where footsteps often sank 28

      down through a groaning ghost to mud below.

      Then one, twisting half up beside our way

      cried out, “O Dante, surely you know me? 31

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