Let us not speak of them; but look, and pass on.

The line is spoken by Virgil to Dante early in the Inferno, as they enter the vestibule just before the first circle of Hell. There Dante sees the “ignavi” (the morally indifferent or cowardly), souls who in life refused to choose either good or evil and are now condemned to chase a blank banner while stung by insects. Their punishment is marked by anonymity and contempt: they are denied both Heaven’s honor and Hell’s infamy. Virgil’s brusque instruction—do not waste speech on them—frames this group as uniquely unworthy of attention, even in a realm devoted to moral accounting.

Virgil’s command expresses a moral hierarchy: some failures are so empty that they merit neither argument nor pity. The “neutral” life, in Dante’s ethics, is not harmless; it is a refusal of responsibility and commitment. “Look, and pass on” also functions narratively, teaching the pilgrim (and reader) how to move through Hell: observe for instruction, but do not be detained by sterile curiosity or misplaced sympathy. The line has endured as a terse maxim about not dignifying contemptible behavior with debate—recognize it, then continue toward more serious moral reckonings.