“O Friars,” began I, “your iniquitous. . .” But said no more; for to mine eyes there rushed One crucified with three stakes on the ground. When me he saw, he writhed himself all over, Blowing into his beard with suspirations; And the Friar Catalan, who noticed this, Said to me: “This transfixed one, whom thou seest, Counselled the Pharisees that it was meet To put one man to torture for the people. Crosswise and naked is he on the path, As thou perceivest; and he needs must feel, Whoever passes, first how much he weighs; And in like mode his father-in-law is punished Within this moat, and the others of the council, Which for the Jews was a malignant seed.” And thereupon I saw Virgilius marvel O’er him who was extended on the cross So vilely in eternal banishment. Then he directed to the Friar this voice: “Be not displeased, if granted thee, to tell us If to the right hand any pass slope down By which we two may issue forth from here, Without constraining some of the black angels To come and extricate us from this deep.” Then he made answer: “Nearer than thou hopest There is a rock, that forth from the great circle Proceeds, and crosses all the cruel valleys, Save that at this ’tis broken, and does not bridge it; You will be able to mount up the ruin, That sidelong slopes and at the bottom rises.” The Leader stood awhile with head bowed down; Then said: “The business badly he recounted Who grapples with his hook the sinners yonder.” And the Friar: “Many of the Devil’s vices Once heard I at Bologna, and among them, That he’s a liar and the father of lies.” Thereat my Leader with great strides went on, Somewhat disturbed with anger in his looks; Whence from the heavy-laden I departed After the prints of his beloved feet. Inferno: Canto XXIV In that part of the youthful year wherein The Sun his locks beneath Aquarius tempers, And now the nights draw near to half the day, What time the hoar-frost copies on the ground The outward semblance of her sister white, But little lasts the temper of her pen, The husbandman, whose forage faileth him, Rises, and looks, and seeth the champaign All gleaming white, whereat he beats his flank, Returns in doors, and up and down laments, Like a poor wretch, who knows not what to do; Then he returns and hope revives again, Seeing the world has changed its countenance In little time, and takes his shepherd’s crook, And forth the little lambs to pasture drives. Thus did the Master fill me with alarm, When I beheld his forehead so disturbed, And to the ailment came as soon the plaster. For as we came unto the ruined bridge, The Leader turned to me with that sweet look Which at the mountain’s foot I first beheld. His arms he opened, after some advisement Within himself elected, looking first Well at the ruin, and laid hold of me.