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I know not how, up here it never trembled.

      It trembles here, whenever any soul

       Feels itself pure, so that it soars, or moves

       To mount aloft, and such a cry attends it.

      Of purity the will alone gives proof,

       Which, being wholly free to change its convent,

       Takes by surprise the soul, and helps it fly.

      First it wills well; but the desire permits not,

       Which divine justice with the self-same will

       There was to sin, upon the torment sets.

      And I, who have been lying in this pain

       Five hundred years and more, but just now felt

       A free volition for a better seat.

      Therefore thou heardst the earthquake, and the pious

       Spirits along the mountain rendering praise

       Unto the Lord, that soon he speed them upwards."

      So said he to him; and since we enjoy

       As much in drinking as the thirst is great,

       I could not say how much it did me good.

      And the wise Leader: "Now I see the net

       That snares you here, and how ye are set free,

       Why the earth quakes, and wherefore ye rejoice.

      Now who thou wast be pleased that I may know;

       And why so many centuries thou hast here

       Been lying, let me gather from thy words."

      "In days when the good Titus, with the aid

       Of the supremest King, avenged the wounds

       Whence issued forth the blood by Judas sold,

      Under the name that most endures and honours,

       Was I on earth," that spirit made reply,

       "Greatly renowned, but not with faith as yet.

      My vocal spirit was so sweet, that Rome

       Me, a Thoulousian, drew unto herself,

       Where I deserved to deck my brows with myrtle.

      Statius the people name me still on earth;

       I sang of Thebes, and then of great Achilles;

       But on the way fell with my second burden.

      The seeds unto my ardour were the sparks

       Of that celestial flame which heated me,

       Whereby more than a thousand have been fired;

      Of the Aeneid speak I, which to me

       A mother was, and was my nurse in song;

       Without this weighed I not a drachma's weight.

      And to have lived upon the earth what time

       Virgilius lived, I would accept one sun

       More than I must ere issuing from my ban."

      These words towards me made Virgilius turn

       With looks that in their silence said, "Be silent!"

       But yet the power that wills cannot do all things;

      For tears and laughter are such pursuivants

       Unto the passion from which each springs forth,

       In the most truthful least the will they follow.

      I only smiled, as one who gives the wink;

       Whereat the shade was silent, and it gazed

       Into mine eyes, where most expression dwells;

      And, "As thou well mayst consummate a labour

       So great," it said, "why did thy face just now

       Display to me the lightning of a smile?"

      Now am I caught on this side and on that;

       One keeps me silent, one to speak conjures me,

       Wherefore I sigh, and I am understood.

      "Speak," said my Master, "and be not afraid

       Of speaking, but speak out, and say to him

       What he demands with such solicitude."

      Whence I: "Thou peradventure marvellest,

       O antique spirit, at the smile I gave;

       But I will have more wonder seize upon thee.

      This one, who guides on high these eyes of mine,

       Is that Virgilius, from whom thou didst learn

       To sing aloud of men and of the Gods.

      If other cause thou to my smile imputedst,

       Abandon it as false, and trust it was

       Those words which thou hast spoken concerning him."

      Already he was stooping to embrace

       My Teacher's feet; but he said to him: "Brother,

       Do not; for shade thou art, and shade beholdest."

      And he uprising: "Now canst thou the sum

       Of love which warms me to thee comprehend,

       When this our vanity I disremember,

      Treating a shadow as substantial thing."

      XXII. Statius' Denunciation of Avarice. The Sixth Circle: The Gluttonous. The Mystic Tree.

       Table of Contents

      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!

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