This was , the dread judge of the underworld. He didn't look like a king; he looked like a nightmare. With a tail that coiled around his massive torso like a whip of scales, he snarled at the approaching poets.
"A Galeotto was the book and he who wrote it," she whispered. "That day, we read no further." Inferno Episodio 2 di 7
"O weary souls!" Dante cried out. "Come speak to us, if none deny it!" This was , the dread judge of the underworld
"Keep your head down," Dante shouted over the roar, though the words were instantly snatched from his lips. Virgil, composed even in the face of the tempest, merely pointed toward a massive, jagged throne of rock where a figure loomed, colossal and grotesque. "A Galeotto was the book and he who wrote it," she whispered
Like two doves returning to their nest, the pair descended from the gale. They were and Paolo Malatesta . Francesca spoke, her voice weeping even as she found words. She told of a book—the story of Lancelot—that they had read together one afternoon.