A bush has been torn apart by a crazed squanderers and black dogs. But it's got something to say, too, just like Pier delle Vigne.

Join me, Mark Scarbrough, as we finish off this tour-de-force of a canto from INFERNO. Canto XIII is a never-ending grab bag of surprises, none more so than the pagan wish or hope that ends the whole thing--and then a final metamorphosis, the most horrifying one in a canto full of them.

There are references to Virgil, maybe hints to our pilgrim's backstory, and confusing prophecies afoot, much like the ones the Harpies offered Aeneas (and were mentioned in the opening lines of this canto). Wild. You've got to hear it to believe it.

Here are the segments of this episode:

[01:15] My English translation of this passage from INFERNO: Canto XIII, lines 127 - 151.

[03:04] What is the initial reticence in this passage? Does it reveal a bit of the Dante-the-pilgrim's backstory? Many now think it does--that is, he woke up in the dark wood in Canto I because he himself was suicidal. But is that the case? Or need it be?

[07:56] The second suicide speaks--and remains anonymous, despite the centuries of commentary trying to pin him down. Actually, if we leave him nameless, we gain two benefits for the passage: 1) his suicide becomes truly about eradicating himself and 2) his ethical question, the very heart of the ethics we've been steering for since Canto X, becomes all the starker, all the richer.

[14:54] The second suicide offers a prophecy about Florence, a future-telling reminiscent of the one the Harpies offered Aeneas. Florence will never see the end of warfare. So does it even matter if you follow an evil or a good warlord? So many questions--including the pagan hopes expressed by this last speaker in this dazzling and defying canto.