Already was the Angel left behind us,     The Angel who to the sixth round had turned us,     Having erased one mark from off my face;

And those who have in justice their desire     Had said to us, “Beati,” in their voices,     With “sitio,” and without more ended it.

And I, more light than through the other passes,     Went onward so, that without any labour     I followed upward the swift-footed spirits;

When thus Virgilius began: “The love     Kindled by virtue aye another kindles,     Provided outwardly its flame appear.

Hence from the hour that Juvenal descended     Among us into the infernal Limbo,     Who made apparent to me thy affection,

My kindliness towards thee was as great     As ever bound one to an unseen person,     So that these stairs will now seem short to me.

But tell me, and forgive me as a friend,     If too great confidence let loose the rein,     And as a friend now hold discourse with me;

How was it possible within thy breast     For avarice to find place, ’mid so much wisdom     As thou wast filled with by thy diligence?”

These words excited Statius at first     Somewhat to laughter; afterward he answered:     “Each word of thine is love’s dear sign to me.

Verily oftentimes do things appear     Which give fallacious matter to our doubts,     Instead of the true causes which are hidden!

Thy question shows me thy belief to be     That I was niggard in the other life,     It may be from the circle where I was;

Therefore know thou, that avarice was removed     Too far from me; and this extravagance     Thousands of lunar periods have punished.

And were it not that I my thoughts uplifted,     When I the passage heard where thou exclaimest,     As if indignant, unto human nature,

‘To what impellest thou not, O cursed hunger     Of gold, the appetite of mortal men?’     Revolving I should feel the dismal joustings.

Then I perceived the hands could spread too wide     Their wings in spending, and repented me     As well of that as of my other sins;

How many with shorn hair shall rise again     Because of ignorance, which from this sin     Cuts off repentance living and in death!

And know that the transgression which rebuts     By direct opposition any sin     Together with it here its verdure dries.

Therefore if I have been among that folk     Which mourns its avarice, to purify me,     For its opposite has this befallen me.”

“Now when thou sangest the relentless weapons     Of the twofold affliction of Jocasta,”     The singer of the Songs Bucolic said,

“From that which Clio there with thee preludes,     It does not seem that yet had made thee faithful     That faith without which no good works suffice.

If this be so, what candles or what sun     Scattered thy darkness so that thou didst trim     Thy sails behind the Fisherman thereafter?”

And he to him: “Thou first directedst me     Towards Parnassus, in its grots to drink,     And first concerning God didst me enlighten.

Thou didst as he who walketh in the night,     Who bears his light behind, which helps him not,     But wary makes the persons after him,

When thou didst say: ‘The age renews itself,     Justice returns, and man’s primeval time,     And a new progeny descends from heaven.’

Through thee I Poet was, through thee a Christian;     But that thou better see what I design,     To colour it will I extend my hand.

Already was the world in every part     Pregnant with the true creed, disseminated     By messengers of the eternal kingdom;

And thy assertion, spoken of above,     With the new preachers was in unison;     Whence I to visit them the custom took.

Then they became so holy in my sight,     That, when Domitian persecuted them,     Not without tears of mine were their laments;

And all the while that I on earth remained,     Them I befriended, and their upright customs     Made me disparage all the other sects.

And ere I led the Greeks unto the rivers     Of Thebes, in poetry, I was baptized,     But out of fear was covertly a Christian,

For a long time professing paganism;     And this lukewarmness caused me the fourth circle     To circuit round more than four centuries.

Thou, therefore, who hast raised the covering     That hid from me whatever good I speak of,     While in ascending we have time to spare,

Tell me, in what place is our friend Terentius,     Caecilius, Plautus, Varro, if thou knowest;     Tell me if they are damned, and in what alley.”

“These, Persius and myself, and others many,”     Replied my Leader, “with that Grecian are     Whom more than all the rest the Muses suckled,

In the first circle of the prison blind;     Ofttimes we of the mountain hold discourse     Which has our nurses ever with itself.

Euripides is with us, Antiphon,     Simonides, Agatho, and many other     Greeks who of old their brows with laurel decked.

There some of thine own people may be seen,     Antigone, Deiphile and Argia,     And there Ismene mournful as of old.

There she is seen who pointed out Langia;     There is Tiresias’ daughter, and there Thetis,     And there Deidamia with her sisters.”

Silent already were the poets both,     Attent once more in looking round about,     From the ascent and from the walls released;

And four handmaidens of the day already     Were left behind, and at the pole the fifth     Was pointing upward still its burning horn,

What time my Guide: “I think that tow’rds the edge     Our dexter shoulders it behoves us turn,     Circling the mount as we are wont to do.”

Thus in that region custom was our ensign;     And we resumed our way with less suspicion     For the assenting of that worthy soul

They in advance went on, and I alone     Behind them, and I listened to their speech,     Which gave me lessons in the art of song.

But soon their sweet discourses interrupted     A tree which midway in the road we found,     With apples sweet and grateful to the smell.

And even as a fir-tree tapers upward     From bough to bough, so downwardly did that;     I think in order that no one might climb it.

On that side where our pathway was enclosed     Fell from the lofty rock a limpid water,     And spread itself abroad upon the leaves.

The Poets twain unto the tree drew near,     And from among the foliage a voice     Cried: “Of this food ye shall have scarcity.”

Then said: “More thoughtful Mary was of making     The marriage feast complete and honourable,     Than of her mouth which now for you responds;

And for their drink the ancient Roman women     With water were content; and Daniel     Disparaged food, and understanding won.

The primal age was beautiful as gold;     Acorns it made with hunger savorous,     And nectar every rivulet with thirst.

Honey and locusts were the aliments     That fed the Baptist in the wilderness;     Whence he is glorious, and so magnified

As by the Evangel is revealed to you.”