But lure nor bird hath seen, while in despair
The falconer cries, “Ah me! thou stoop’st to earth!”
Wearied descends, and swiftly down the sky
In many an orbit wheels, then lighting sits
At distance from his lord in angry mood;
So Geryon lighting places us on foot
Low down at base of the deep-furrow’d rock,
And, of his burden there discharg’d, forthwith
Sprang forward, like an arrow from the string.

CANTO XVIII

There is a place within the depths of hell
Call’d Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain’d
With hue ferruginous, e’en as the steep
That round it circling winds.  Right in the midst
Of that abominable region, yawns
A spacious gulf profound, whereof the frame
Due time shall tell.  The circle, that remains,
Throughout its round, between the gulf and base
Of the high craggy banks, successive forms
Ten trenches, in its hollow bottom sunk. 
     As where to guard the walls, full many a foss
Begirds some stately castle, sure defence
Affording to the space within, so here
Were model’d these; and as like fortresses
E’en from their threshold to the brink without,
Are flank’d with bridges; from the rock’s low base
Thus flinty paths advanc’d, that ’cross the moles
And dikes, struck onward far as to the gulf,
That in one bound collected cuts them off. 
Such was the place, wherein we found ourselves
From Geryon’s back dislodg’d.  The bard to left
Held on his way, and I behind him mov’d. 
     On our right hand new misery I saw,
New pains, new executioners of wrath,
That swarming peopled the first chasm.  Below
Were naked sinners.  Hitherward they came,
Meeting our faces from the middle point,
With us beyond but with a larger stride. 
E’en thus the Romans, when the year returns
Of Jubilee, with better speed to rid
The thronging multitudes, their means devise
For such as pass the bridge; that on one side
All front toward the castle, and approach
Saint Peter’s fane, on th’ other towards the mount. 
     Each divers way along the grisly rock,
Horn’d demons I beheld, with lashes huge,
That on their back unmercifully smote. 
Ah! how they made them bound at the first stripe! 
None for the second waited nor the third. 
     Meantime as on I pass’d, one met my sight
Whom soon as view’d; “Of him,” cried I, “not yet
Mine eye hath had his fill.”  With fixed gaze
I therefore scann’d him.  Straight the teacher kind
Paus’d with me, and consented I should walk
Backward a space, and the tormented spirit,
Who thought to hide him, bent his visage down. 
But it avail’d him nought; for I exclaim’d: 
“Thou who dost cast thy eye upon the ground,
Unless thy features do belie thee much,
Venedico art thou.  But what brings thee
Into this bitter seas’ning? " He replied: