The Leader of the modern Pharisees
Having a war near unto Lateran,And not with Saracens nor with the Jews,
For each one of his enemies was Christian,And none of them had been to conquer Acre,Nor merchandising in the Sultan’s land,
Nor the high office, nor the sacred orders,In him regarded, nor in me that cordWhich used to make those girt with it more meagre;
But even as Constantine sought out SylvesterTo cure his leprosy, within Soracte,So this one sought me out as an adept
To cure him of the fever of his pride.Counsel he asked of me, and I was silent,Because his words appeared inebriate.
And then he said: ‘Be not thy heart afraid;Henceforth I thee absolve; and thou instruct meHow to raze Palestrina to the ground.
Heaven have I power to lock and to unlock,As thou dost know; therefore the keys are two,The which my predecessor held not dear.’
Then urged me on his weighty argumentsThere, where my silence was the worst advice;And said I: ‘Father, since thou washest me
Of that sin into which I now must fall,The promise long with the fulfilment shortWill make thee triumph in thy lofty seat.’
Francis came afterward, when I was dead,For me; but one of the black CherubimSaid to him: ‘Take him not; do me no wrong;
He must come down among my servitors,Because he gave the fraudulent adviceFrom which time forth I have been at his hair;
For who repents not cannot be absolved,Nor can one both repent and will at once,Because of the contradiction which consents not.’
O miserable me! how I did shudderWhen he seized on me, saying: ‘PeradventureThou didst not think that I was a logician!’
He bore me unto Minos, who entwinedEight times his tail about his stubborn back,And after he had bitten it in great rage,
Said: ‘Of the thievish fire a culprit this;’Wherefore, here where thou seest, am I lost,And vested thus in going I bemoan me.”
When it had thus completed its recital,The flame departed uttering lamentations,Writhing and flapping its sharp-pointed horn.
Onward we passed, both I and my Conductor,Up o’er the crag above another arch,Which the moat covers, where is paid the fee
By those who, sowing discord, win their burden.
Inferno: Canto XXVIII
Who ever could, e’en with untrammelled words,Tell of the blood and of the wounds in fullWhich now I saw, by many times narrating?
Each tongue would for a certainty fall shortBy reason of our speech and memory,That have small room to comprehend so much.
If were again assembled all the peopleWhich formerly upon the fateful landOf Puglia were lamenting for their blood