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.
Dante looked up into the blackness. He saw them—the "carnal sinners" who had let their reason be swept away by desire. They were tossed like autumn leaves in a storm, never resting, never touching the ground. Inferno Episodio 2 di 7
"O thou that comest to the abode of pain!" Minos bellowed, his voice vibrating in Dante's very marrow. "Look how thou enterest, and in whom thou trustest!" Like two doves returning to their nest, the
Virgil stepped forward, his voice a calm anchor in the chaos. "Hinder not his fated going. It is so willed where power is what it wills; ask no more." She told of a book—the story of Lancelot—that
"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.
Among the blurred shapes, two shadows caught his eye. They flew together, buffeted by the wind but never drifting apart.
She described how they were murdered by her husband—Paolo’s brother—before they could repent. As she spoke, Paolo did nothing but sob, his grief a silent echo to her tale.