ied lives which they led on earth swept their faces
away from all distinction for ever.

In discoursing of fortune, they descend by the side of a torrent, black
as ink, into the fifth circle, or place of torment for the Angry, the
Sullen, and the Proud. Here they first beheld a filthy marsh, full of
dirty naked bodies, that in everlasting rage tore one another to pieces.
In a quieter division of the pool were seen nothing but bubbles, carried
by the ascent, from its slimy bottom, of the stifled words of the
sullen. They were always saying, "We were sad and dark within us in the
midst of the sweet sunshine, and now we live sadly in the dark bogs."
The poets walked on till they came to the foot of a tower, which hung
out two blazing signals to another just discernible in the distance. A
boat came rapidly towards them, ferried by the wrathful Phlegyas;[17]
who cried out, "Aha, felon! and so thou hast come at last!"

"Thou errest," said Virgil. "We come for no longer time than it will
take thee to ferry us across thy pool."

Phlegyas looked like one defrauded of his right; but proceeded to convey
them. During their course a spirit rose out of the mire, looking Dante
in the face, and said, "Who art thou, that comest before thy time?"

"Who art thou?" said Dante.

"Thou seest who I am," answered the other; "one among the mourners."

"Then mourn still, and howl, accursed spirit," returned the Florentine.
"I know thee, all over filth as thou art."

The wretch in fury laid hold of the boat, but Virgil thrust him back,
exclaiming, "Down with thee! down among the other dogs!"

Then turning to Dante, he embraced and kissed him, saying, "O soul, that
knows how to disdain, blessed be she that bore thee! Arrogant, truly,
upon earth was this sinner, nor is his memory graced by a single virtue.
Hence the furiousness of his spirit now. How many kings are there at
this moment lording it as gods, who shall wallow here, as he does, like
swine in the mud, and be thought no better of by the world!" "I should
like to see him smothering in it," said Dante, "before we go."

"A right wish," said Virgil, "and thou shalt, to thy heart's content."

On a sudden the wretch's muddy companions seized and drenched him so
horribly that (exclaims Dante) "I laud and thank God for it now at this
moment."

"Have at him!" cried they; "have at Filippo Argenti;" and the wild fool
of a Florentine dashed his teeth for rage into his own flesh.[18]

The