Gustave Doré

Nessus had yet to get through there, when we
   brought ourselves upon a shrub, which showed
   no sign of perceiving any at all. The
brush was not green, but rather the grim
   color of gloom; no straightforward branches, just
   thorny in bundles: there were no fruits, only fetid studs.
These beastly savages had neither underbrush
   nor kindling so thick, as they hate the cultured
   areas between Cecina and Corneto.
Right there the brute-like Harpies make their nesting,
   so as to expel the Trojans from Strofades isles
   with depressing notice of impending harm.
They have wide wings, and human head with shoulders,
   claws on their feet, and the stomach of a massive bird;
   they make their painful cries above, at very strange trees.
And my fine master: "Before you enter
   any further upon such, be aware that you are in
   the second ring," he started telling me, "and that you will
be, as long as you traverse the horrific sand.
   So take a good second look, thus shall you review
   things that stretch the credibility of my discourse."
I felt screams being shouted from every
   direction, and saw not a personage who would've
   uttered them: so I stopped, being entirely
out of place. I think he thought that I believed
   such vocalizations as among those branches
   to be those of peoples absconded from us. So the
master-poet said, "If you yank some sapling
   off of one of these plants, the cogitations which
   you possess should all be cut short like a monk."[30
So then I put my hand to it a bit
   later, and ripped a twig from one of the
   branches; and the stump screamed out its own cries:
"Why are you tearing at me?" After that action,
   it then got shit-stained with blood, tried saying
   it again: "Why're you tearing me? -- don't you possess any
spirit of mercy? We were people, and now I'd
   be made into kindling: I really should've been your
   more devout hand, if we may've been made spirits by snakes."
Just as too green of a firelog will burn
   down from one end, while th' other side hisses
   and leaks its vapor, as in forcing its way,
so were blood and words together emitted
   from that ruined stump; so I let the branch fall
   down, and stood just like a man in terror.
My wise guide said: "If he had been capable
   of believing, first, what he only had seen
   in my verse, oh wounded soul, he wouldn't have
raised his hand against you; rather, the unbelief
   issue made me put him up to an act quite
   ponderous to me myself. But give it up --
who you were? -- so that he might then provide
   refreshment to your fame for some reconciliation
   in the world above, where he is permitted to return."
And the trunk spoke: "You so attract me by speaking
   sweetness, that I couldn't keep quiet; don't
   let it bother you, if I loiter a bit in making
sense. I am he who held both keys to Frederick's heart,
   and who turned them, locking and disclosing -- so
   smooth were th' acts -- that I was like the only[60
one to be party to his secret; to
   my glorified position I preserved my
   fidelity so well, that I suffered in sleep
and circulation for it. The hooker who once
   gave Julius Caesar hospitable lodging wouldn't
   divert her slut-whore eyes, universal death and the
secret vice of palace courts -- she caused all the spirited
   souls to be inflamed against me, and the riled-up peoples so
   angered Augustus, that those who, uh... exchanged
honor for miserable toils were the lucky ones.
   My own spirit, due to unsuitable tastes -- believing
   it unworthy to go away and die, I turned
against myself in retaliation for my own
   innocence. By this tree's novel roots, I beg you
   not to violate the faith you have in my lord,
as he merited it. And if some, anything in the
   world is left for you people, please coddle my memory,
   that still lies with the fault which donated envy to it."
He waited a bit, & then the master poet told me,
   "Hence that one silent grows, so as not to lose
   the present moment; but speak up, & get his attention,
if you would." Whereupon I told him, "Well, then
   question him about what you believe would best
   satisfy my curiosity; because I can't, since
I took so much pious feeling to heart." And again
   he started up: "If you want to treat this guy
   in a noble fashion, to get him to do your bidding,
oh you spirit confined in prison, now let it be
   pleasing to speak on the topic as to how the human
   soul gets tied up in these knots; and, if you will, do talk[90
about whether any limb even gets free, ever."
   Then the treetrunk took a big breather, & yet was
   that wind changed into his voice, like so: "I will
reply to you both in short. When the savage
   soul departs from the body, where that same spirit
   is overthrown, Minos orders it to the seventh
ring of fire. Into the forest it falls, and does not
   become the chosen portion; however, in the place
   where fate flung it, there it sprouts like a grain of spelt.
It springs up in scions and in offshoots
   of the forest: the Harpies, feeding in which case upon
   their own foliage, do inflict damage,
and open the window to pain. As I should be here
   like the rest, throughout our foliage, however it is
   each of us might execute our role, it's not
fully just for a man to be taken out like thus.
   Let me leave the leaves off here, as our bodies shall hang
   throughout the gloomy woods -- each man in the thorny brush
injures his own shade." We were still intent on the trunk,
   in belief that neither had wish to speak, when
   we were shocked by a roar, rumbling no different
from the man who perceives the boar and its hunt
   arriving at his position, as he hears
   the wild animals, & charges into the branches.
Look, & see two shades from the left side, unclothed
    and torn up, fleeing so forcefully that the very
   woods were upending every last deterrent.
The one up front: "Now run fast, please death, come quickly!"
   And the other spirit, whose falling behind
   looked to arrive too late, screamed, "Lano, not so hasty[120
were your legs, at the jousting in Toppo." And then,
   maybe because his wind failed them, he tied
   himself into a knot with the brush. The forest land
behind them was filled with black bitches,
   panting and running, like greyhounds that have
   broken free of the leash. They set their teeth
against the poor wretch who restrained himself,
   as they tore him apart, limb by limb; they
   then carried those miserable members away.
Next my associate took me by the
   hand, and reminded me about the bush
   that was weeping through its bloody lacerations,
quite in vain. "Oh Jacopo," it stated, "da Santo Andrea,
   what good was it to use me for a false front? -- so I
   could get blamed for the rest of your guilty life?"
When my master was still near, before this shade,
   said he, "Who were you, to whisper such grievous
   allegations in blood, at so many points?"
So he told us: "Oh you spirits who got together
   so you could view the indecent torture which
   has so disjointed from me my branches,
gather them at the foot of this sad vessel.
   I come from the city which traded its original
   patron for John the Baptist: which is why he'll
forever use his art to sadden it; and if no
   image of Mars had survived there still, upon the
   crossing of the river Arno, those same
citizens who later reestablished Florence
   atop the very ashes left over from
   Attila, they would have had to work in vain.[150
I turned my palazzo into the hangman's noose."