Bertran de Born

In the canto he is a trunk without a head, walking like the rest of the wretched flock, with the severed head held by the hair and dangling from his hand like a lantern; when he reaches the foot of the bridge he lifts his arm high with the whole head, to bring his words closer. In the game the bridge is broken and the ditch is crossed on the floor, so he waits where you arrive, before the line of the blade, in the clearest spot between the file that walks the round and the bodies lying open. The head is the only light in the ditch. Within eight metres he turns to you and lifts it, and only from that close does he call: any further and his voice covered the beat of the sword.

He asks whether you are getting out of here. Tell him you are going back up and he tells you who he was, the one who gave the young king the evil counsel and set the father and the son against each other, and why he carries his brain parted from its root: «Così s’osserva in me lo contrapasso». His name goes into the book as promised. Tell him you are staying and he gives you, as one who stays, the rule of the place: whoever walks under the sword is opened every time, so run the moment it has passed in front of you, and the next stroke comes too late. It is true, and it was measured: starting right after the sweep, running is caught two times in ten, walking ten in ten. His name goes in as taken by lying. Walk past in silence and he lowers his arm, and the head hangs from his fist again.