My face took the colour of embarrassment, when I saw my Master returning, 
seeing he was dissimulating his shame.


He stopped and appeared to listen because he could see nothing in the thick fog. 
"We should well win this battle or someone else 
than the sweet Jeanne shall come to our assistance?"

 "Deep at the bottom of this lugubrious valley, somebody never came down 
from the first circle, who had no other punishment than to have lost all hope?" 
I ask this question to Baudelaire who answered me as such: 

"It is very rare that somebody among us makes the journey where I engage.
 It is true that I already went, on another time, conjured by the treachery of Sappho 
who swallowed back the shadows from their body. My flesh was only recently 
stripped from myself, when she let me penetrate behind these walls 
to take out a soul from the circle of the Giudecca. It is the lowest place 
and the most obscure, the most distant from this sky that enclose all things; I know  very well
the way, then, reassure yourself; this marsh, that exhales its stink here, makes the full rotation 
of the dolent city where we cannot, from now on, enter without violence any more."


I did not hear the remainder of his words being distracted by what I saw at the top of the Cap Diamant* 
blazing with light, where suddenly rise up, encircling the shade of the beast, 
three infernal Furies tinted with the color of blood. They had the shape, the members 
and the gestures of women; they had belts like hydres of a very sharp green, and for hair, 
small snakes and cerastes that fall down on their savage faces.


Seeing them my Master says to me: 

"Look at those wild Erinnyes: here is Megere on the left side; 
the one who cries on the right is Alecto; Tisiphone is in the middle."
All and each one of them, between herselves, bite their own breasts, tore their flesh 
with their sharp-edged nails, strucked and embraced mutually then mutually opened
their own vagina which they sucked like delicacies, they mutually impaled
with their closed fists and whipped herselves while groaning so that 
I was afraid and that I glued myself against the poet. 


"Come the time of Meduse! 
And then we will petrify man, this predator; we will judge him, we will emasculate him, 
we will transform him into zombie, so that he does not throw any more lubricous glances 
on our naked bodies, would they be beautiful, ugly, would they be of woman 
or transmutation of woman, what importance, provided that there is no more love." 


"Move away, turn yourself around and keep your eyes closed, move from this sidewalk to the other
and avoid looking at the Gorgone, or approach her, or praise her beauty, or kiss 
her hand and be a gentleman; forget the functions of your nature and of her,
because you would not have any other means to go back there, and only God 
knows the sorrow of those who, without really knowing and wanting what they do,
make of, sexual harassment, their daily nourishment." 


My Master prevented me then, and he seemed over-excited, smelling the presence of devils, judges, 
manipulators of opinion and feminists or other followers of the social righteousness which, 
had he told me, acted as denounciators in these places of avenging justice. 

Oh readers, you who have an healthy spirit, be able to recognize 
the hidden meaning of these verses full of mysteries! 

At far came out from the turbid water, the crash of a light noise that gently made the ground trembling,
similar to the passage of wind that threads between the trees by defying any obstacle.
Baudelaire unvail my eyes and says to me:
"Now, direct the strenght of your glance 
over these antiques meerschaum, where the vapor is bitterest." 


Thus, I saw more than a thousand terrified souls, fleeing in front of somebody who slided at high speed, 
passing the Styx with dry foot and who seemed to graze along more than touching the ground.
I realized very well that it was a Messenger from Heaven and that she slipped above the ground, 
without the attributes of the angels. Only her feet carry at their heel, wings 
like Mercure, the messenger of the gods or rather, strange shoes on skates
with aligned wheels that made her as fluid and light as an angel. 

She carried a fine muslin that stuck to her flesh and that moulded her perfectly gracious body, 
under the pressure of the air, so that one could see her still youthful small tits, her solar plexus 
and the secret shade of her vulva; she carried knuckles of a pure white; one could easely believed 
she was naked, and, in her young unconciousness, she invited to love.
I looked at my Master, amazed; he told me
to keep silent and to inclined myself in front of Her. 

Ah! how desirable she appeared to me when she passed close by in a flash, she tossed her arms and made 
full circular motions from left to right with a weak inflection of her body that emphasized her buttocks, 
accelerating that way her movement on the pavement which groaned under suffering or desire.
She approached very close by, she stopped in front of the Gorgone and her irascible mistresses; 
she bented motionless on a single leg making her hip undulating slightly, she made them flee 
without making anything more than showing them Her beautiful body of nymph-girl.
But me, I could not flee, I looked at her buttocks which moulded by the suction of her dress 
of transparent muslin, and I thought of Beauty, of Desire, of Love, 
the only reasons why I still believed in God. 

Then she came to the Dauphine* portail, she opened it from a blow of her magic stick
without getting any resistance, and I told myself that it was a true fairy tale.
She turned back by the muddy road without addressing any word to us,
 but she looked like a teenager pressed and bited by other desires, 
than those which were actually offered to Her; 
and we started mooving towards the city, reassured by this sacred gesture, 
but my soul was sad of not having the necessary breath one would need to follow Her.

We entered there without having to fight; and I, who had the great desire to see the fate of those,
that similar citadel locks up, as soon as I had entered there, I turned my eyes around; and I saw, 
from all parts, a vast plain, like a battle field, filled with tears and crual torments; 
one would have thought of a cemetery whose tombs spreaded quietly on the ground, 
otherwise then they were crueler, because, between the tombs,
scattered flames set them ablaze with violent fires. 
 
All the lids were raised, and we could ear such violent lamentations
that we could feel they where coming from unhappy offended. 
I said: 
"Master, who are those people buried in these sepulchres, 
who yell so painful wisperings?"


And he answered: 
"Here are the new Clerics from all Sects, with their disciples who fill the tombs;
they are parked according to the Virtue they defend. They are the anti-tobaco, 
anti-perfume, anti-fur, anti-cholesterol, anti-firearms, anti-ONG, anti-everything, 
anti-anything, but whose  finality is the establishment of the Dictatorship of the Good 
and absolute control over the collective consciousness; be aware of these Integrist who,
one day, legislates the use of tobacco and tomorrow will prevent you from dreaming, 
as if that was nocive to the collective morality. 
They suffer as much as they used sedition and demagogy to impose their truth 
over the ruins of the old Truths, with means no more glorious than those of the former Clerics, 
but as effective to handle the crowds and to impose their faith to the Legislator."


And after he had turned on his right, we passed between these tombs of torture victims 
moving away from the Plaines d'Abraham*; then by the Grande-Allée* and while going along the Muraille*, 
we reached the Garnison* as well as the Citadelle* where dwells and train
the police-demons, charged to help preserve the good consciousness of Hell.