# Inferno Canto 17

*Exported from [Holy-Writings.com](https://www.holy-writings.com/) on 2026-06-19 — 1 clipping.*

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> 
> Canto XVII
> 
> Argument
> 
>      The monster Geryon is described; to whom while Virgil is speaking in
> order that he may carry them both down to the next circle, Dante, by
> permission, goes further along the edge of the void, to descry the third
> species of sinners contained in this compartment, namely, those who have done
> violence to Art; and then returning to his master, they both descend, seated
> on the back of Geryon.
> 
> "Lo! the fell monster[1] with the deadly sting,
> Who passes mountains, breaks through fenced walls
> And firm embattled spears, and with his filth
> Taints all the world." Thus me my guide address'd,
> And beckon'd him, that he should come to shore,
> Near to the stony causeway's utmost edge.
> 
> [1: "The fell monster." Fraud.]
> 
> Forthwith that image vile of Fraud appear'd,
> His head and upper part exposed on land,
> But laid not on the shore his bestial train.
> His face the semblance of a just man's wore,
> So kind and gracious was its outward cheer;
> The rest was serpent all: two shaggy claws
> Reach'd to the arm - pits; and the back and breast,
> And either side, were painted o'er with nodes
> And orbits. Colours variegated more
> Nor Turks nor Tartars e'er on cloth of state
> With interchangeable embroidery wove,
> Nor spread Arachne o'er her curious loom.
> As oft - times a light skiff, moor'd to the shore,
> Stands part in water, part upon the land;
> Or, as where dwells the greedy German boor,
> The beaver settles, watching for his prey;
> So on the rim, that fenced the sand with rock,
> Sat perch'd the fiend of evil. In the void
> Glancing, his tail upturn'd its venomous fork,
> With sting like scorpion's arm'd. Then thus my guide,
> "Now need our way must turn few steps apart,
> Far as to that ill beast, who couches there."
> 
> Thereat, toward the right our downward course
> We shaped, and, better to escape the flame
> And burning marle, ten paces on the verge
> Proceeded. Soon as we to him arrive,
> A little farther on mine eye beholds
> A tribe of spirits, seated on the sand
> Near to the void. Forthwith my master spake:
> "That to the full thy knowledge may extend
> Of all this round contains, go now, and mark
> The mien these wear: but hold not long discourse.
> Till thou returnest, I with him meantime
> Will parley, that to us he may vouchsafe
> The aid of his strong shoulders." Thus alone,
> Yet forward on the extremity I paced
> Of that seventh circle, where the mournful tribe
> Were seated. At the eyes forth gush'd their pangs,
> Against the vapors and the torrid soil
> Alternately their shifting hands they plied.
> Thus use the dogs in summer still to ply
> Their jaws and feet by turns, when bitten sore
> By gnats, or flies, or gadflies swarming round.
> 
> Noting the visages of some, who lay
> Beneath the pelting of that dolorous fire,
> One of them all I knew not; but perceived,
> That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch[2]
> With colours and with emblems various mark'd,
> On which it seem'd as if their eye did feed.
> 
> [2: A purse, whereon the armorial bearings of each were emblazoned.
> According to Landino, our Poet implies that the usurer can pretend to no other
> honor than such as he derives from his purse and his family. The description
> of persons by their heraldic insignia is remarkable.]
> 
> And when, amongst them, looking round I came,
> A yellow purse[3] I saw with azure wrought,
> That wore a lion's countenance and port.
> Then, still my sight pursuing its career,
> Another[4] I beheld, than blood more red,
> A goose display of whiter wing than curd.
> And one, who bore a fat and azure swine[5]
> Pictured on his white scrip, address'd me thus:
> "What dost thou in this deep? Go now and know,
> Since yet thou livest, that my neighbor here
> Vitaliano[6] on my left shall sit.
> A Paduan with these Florentines am I.
> Oft - times they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming,
> 'Oh! haste that noble knight[7], he who the pouch
> With the three goats will bring.'" This said, he writhed
> The mouth, and loll'd the tongue out, like an ox
> That licks his nostrils. I, lest longer stay
> He ill might brook, who bade me stay not long,
> Backward my steps from those sad spirits turn'd.
> 
> [3: "A yellow purse." The arms of the Gianfigliazzi of Florence.]
> 
> [4: The arms of the Ubbriachi, another Florentine family of high
> distinction.]
> 
> [5: The arms of the Scrovigni, a noble family of Padua.]
> 
> [6: Vitaliano del Dente, a Paduan.]
> 
> [7: Giovanni Bujamonti, the most infamous usurer of his time.]
> 
> My guide already seated on the haunch
> Of the fierce animal I found; and thus
> He me encouraged. "Be thou stout: be bold.
> Down such a steep flight must we now descend.
> Mount thou before: for, that no power the tail
> May have to harm thee, I will be i' th' midst."
> As one, who hath an ague fit so near,
> His nails already are turn'd blue, and he
> Quivers all o'er, if he but eye the shade;
> Such was my cheer at hearing of his words.
> But shame soon interposed her threat, who makes
> The servant bold in presence of his lord.
> 
> I settled me upon those shoulders huge,
> And would have said, but that the words to aid
> My purpose came not, "Look thou clasp me firm."
> 
> But he whose succour then not first I proved,
> Soon as I mounted, in his arms aloft,
> Embracing, held me up; and thus he spake:
> "Geryon! now move thee: be thy wheeling gyres
> Of ample circuit, easy thy descent.
> Think on the unusual burden thou sustain'st."
> 
> As a small vessel, backening out from land,
> Her station quits; so thence the monster loosed,
> And, when he felt himself at large, turn'd round
> There, where the breast had been, his forked tail.
> Thus, like an eel, outstretch'd at length he steer'd,
> Gathering the air up with retractile claws.
> 
> Not greater was the dread, when Phaeton
> The reins let drop at random, whence high heaven,
> Whereof signs yet appear, was wrapt in flames;
> Nor when ill - fated Icarus perceived,
> By liquefaction of the scalded wax,
> The trusted pennons loosen'd from his loins,
> His sire exclaiming loud, "Ill way thou keep'st,"
> Than was my dread, when round me on each part
> The air I view'd, and other object none
> Save the fell beast. He, slowly sailing, wheels
> His downward motion, unobserved of me,
> But that the wind, arising to my face,
> Breathes on me from below. Now on our right
> I heard the cataract beneath us leap
> With hideous crash; whence bending down to explore,
> New terror I conceived at the steep plunge;
> For flames I saw, and wailings smote mine ear:
> So that, all trembling, close I crouch'd my limbs,
> And then distinguish'd, unperceived before,
> By the dread torments that on every side
> Drew nearer, how our downward course we wound.
> 
> As falcon, that hath long been on the wing,
> But lure nor bid hath seen, while in despair
> The falconer cries, "Ah me! thou stoop'st to earth,"
> Wearied descends, whence nimbly he arose
> In many an airy wheel, and 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 discharged, forthwith
> Sprang forward, like an arrow from the string.
>
> — *Inferno Canto 17*