O conscience, upright and stainless, how bitter a sting to thee is a little fault!
All hope abandon, ye who enter here!
Those things that have the power to hurt are to be feared: not those other things that are not fearful. I am made such, by God's grace, that your suffering does not touch me, nor does the fire of this burning scorch me.
You did thirst for blood, and with blood I fill you.
As in the autumn-time the leaves fall off, First one and then another, till the branch Surrenders all its spoils to the earth; In similar fashion did these evil seeds of Adam throw Themselves from the group, one by one, into the boat At Charon's signal, as a bird is called to its lure.