Till his back-bone of skin was sometimes nude.[866] 60 'The soul up yonder in the greater pain Is Judas 'Scariot, with his head among The teeth,' my Master said, 'while outward strain His legs. Of the two whose heads are downward hung, Brutus is from the black jowl pendulous: See how he writhes, yet never wags his tongue. The other, great of thew, is Cassius:[867] But night is rising[868] and we must be gone; For everything hath now been seen by us.' Then, as he bade, I to his neck held on 70 While he the time and place of vantage chose; And when the wings enough were open thrown He grasped the shaggy ribs and clutched them close, And so from tuft to tuft he downward went Between the tangled hair and crust which froze. We to the bulging haunch had made descent, To where the hip-joint lies in it; and then My Guide, with painful twist and violent, Turned round his head to where his feet had been, And like a climber closely clutched the hair: 80 I thought to Hell[869] that we returned again. 'Hold fast to me; it needs by such a stair,' Panting, my Leader said, like man foredone, 'That we from all that wretchedness repair.' Right through a hole in a rock when he had won, The edge of it he gave me for a seat And deftly then to join me clambered on. I raised mine eyes, expecting they would meet With Lucifer as I beheld him last, But saw instead his upturned legs[870] and feet. 90 If in perplexity I then was cast, Let ignorant people think who do not see What point[871] it was that I had lately passed. 'Rise to thy feet,' my Master said to me; 'The way is long and rugged the ascent, And at mid tierce[872] the sun must almost be.' 'Twas not as if on palace floors we went: A dungeon fresh from nature's hand was this; Rough underfoot, and of light indigent. 'Or ever I escape from the abyss, 100 O Master,' said I, standing now upright, 'Correct in few words where I think amiss. Where lies the ice? How hold we him in sight Set upside down? The sun, how had it skill In so short while to pass to morn from night?'[873] And he: 'In fancy thou art standing, still, On yon side of the centre, where I caught The vile worm's hair which through the world doth drill. There wast thou while our downward course I wrought; But when I turned, the centre was passed by 110 Which by all weights from every point is sought. And now thou standest 'neath the other sky, Opposed to that which vaults the great dry ground And 'neath whose summit[874] there did whilom die The Man[875] whose birth and life were sinless found. Thy feet are firm upon the little sphere, On this side answering to Judecca's round. 'Tis evening yonder when 'tis morning here;