And unto me: “Thou, because I am angry, Fear not, for I will conquer in the trial, Whatever for defence within be planned. This arrogance of theirs is nothing new; For once they used it at less secret gate, Which finds itself without a fastening still. O’er it didst thou behold the dead inscription; And now this side of it descends the steep, Passing across the circles without escort, One by whose means the city shall be opened.” Inferno: Canto IX That hue which cowardice brought out on me, Beholding my Conductor backward turn, Sooner repressed within him his new colour. He stopped attentive, like a man who listens, Because the eye could not conduct him far Through the black air, and through the heavy fog. “Still it behoveth us to win the fight,” Began he; “Else. . .Such offered us herself. . . O how I long that some one here arrive!” Well I perceived, as soon as the beginning He covered up with what came afterward, That they were words quite different from the first; But none the less his saying gave me fear, Because I carried out the broken phrase, Perhaps to a worse meaning than he had. “Into this bottom of the doleful conch Doth any e’er descend from the first grade, Which for its pain has only hope cut off?” This question put I; and he answered me: “Seldom it comes to pass that one of us Maketh the journey upon which I go. True is it, once before I here below Was conjured by that pitiless Erictho, Who summoned back the shades unto their bodies. Naked of me short while the flesh had been, Before within that wall she made me enter, To bring a spirit from the circle of Judas; That is the lowest region and the darkest, And farthest from the heaven which circles all. Well know I the way; therefore be reassured. This fen, which a prodigious stench exhales, Encompasses about the city dolent, Where now we cannot enter without anger.” And more he said, but not in mind I have it; Because mine eye had altogether drawn me Tow’rds the high tower with the red-flaming summit, Where in a moment saw I swift uprisen The three infernal Furies stained with blood, Who had the limbs of women and their mien, And with the greenest hydras were begirt; Small serpents and cerastes were their tresses, Wherewith their horrid temples were entwined. And he who well the handmaids of the Queen Of everlasting lamentation knew, Said unto me: “Behold the fierce Erinnys. This is Megaera, on the left-hand side; She who is weeping on the right, Alecto; Tisiphone is between;” and then was silent. Each one her breast was rending with her nails; They beat them with their palms, and cried so loud, That I for dread pressed close unto the Poet. “Medusa come, so we to stone will change him!” All shouted looking down; “in evil hour Avenged we not on Theseus his assault!”