"I will," quoth he, and with my hand in his,
We walked towards that granite edifice,
The proctor slinking to his lair away.
"Thee will I show the woes of Limbo's halls.
That thou mayst marvel how the would-be wise,
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The so-called teachers, purge their sins away."
Thus spake my master as we clambered up
A flight of slippery, ice-encrusted steps.
Over the portal of the door was writ,
In lamp-black letters mixed with kerosene,
"By me you enter the abode of those
Who once were despots in the world above,
And now repay in torments manifold
Their tyranny to others. Cast aside
All hope, ye fools that enter Limbo's halls."
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