I had thought that Dante's guards would grab me by the shoulders and throw me straight into the appointed prison, but they didn't. Instead, they did something worse and utterly unexpected.
They indeed grabbed my shoulders, and they held me in place, so that the barber would be able to cut my hair. I screamed my lungs out. Fighting the pain which clutched my heart as every lock of my precious hair fell to the floor.
After the sacrilegious deed had been done, I expected them to release their hold on me and have me go my way, but they didn't. They held me to the wooden chair all through the time, the barber dipped his hands into a bowl of thick dye and smeared my hair with it.
By the time Dante finished ruining me, my throat had become a whole red sore, making it hard for me to swallow
