Canto IX

recalcitrate against that will, From which the end can never be cut off, And which has many times increased your pain? What helpeth it to butt against the fates? Your Cerberus, if you remember well, For that still bears his chin and gullet peeled.” Then he returned along the miry road, And spake no word to us, but had the look Of one whom other care constrains and goads Than that of him who in his presence is; And we our feet directed tow’rds the city, After those holy words all confident. Within we entered without any contest; And I, who inclination had to see What the condition such a fortress holds, Soon as I was within, cast round mine eye, And see on every hand an ample plain, Full of distress and torment terrible. Even as at Arles, where stagnant grows the Rhone, Even as at Pola near to the Quarnaro, That shuts in Italy and bathes its borders, The sepulchres make all the place uneven; So likewise did they there on every side, Saving that there the manner was more bitter; For flames between the sepulchres were scattered, By which they so intensely heated were, That iron more so asks not any art. All of their coverings uplifted were, And from them issued forth such dire laments, Sooth seemed they of the wretched and tormented. And I: “My Master, what are all those people Who, having sepulture within those tombs, Make themselves audible by doleful sighs?” And he to me: “Here are the Heresiarchs, With their disciples of all sects, and much More than thou thinkest laden are the tombs. Here like together with its like is buried; And more and less the monuments are heated.” And when he to the right had turned, we passed Between the torments and high parapets.