(88) "And He, from good, to mortals planteth ill, And cruel war, and tearful woes," according to Orpheus.

(363) make the oaks of the just— ‘To bear acorns at their summit, and bees in the middle; And the sheep are bowed down with the weight of their fleeces 3 ,’ and many other blessings of a like kind are provided for them. And Homer has a very similar strain; for he speaks of one whose fame is— ‘As the fame of some blameless king who, like a god, Maintains justice; to whom the black earth brings forth Wheat and barley, whose trees are bowed with fruit, And his sheep never fail to bear, and the sea gives him fish 4 .’ Still grander are the gifts of heaven which Musaeus and his son 5 vouchsafe to the just; they take them down into the world below, where they have the saints lying on couches at a feast, everlastingly drunk, crowned with garlands; their idea seems to be that an immortality of drunkenness is the highest meed of virtue. Some extend their rewards yet further; the posterity, as they say, of the faithful and just shall survive to the third and fourth generation. This is the style in which they praise justice. But about the wicked there is another strain; they bury them in a slough in Hades, and make them carry water in a sieve; also while they are yet living they bring them to infamy, and inflict

(364) sins by sacrifices or charms, with rejoicings and feasts; and they promise to harm an enemy, whether just or unjust, at a small cost; with magic arts and incantations binding heaven, as they say, to execute their will. And the poets are the authorities to whom they appeal, now smoothing the path of vice with the words of Hesiod;— ‘Vice may be had in abundance without trouble; the way is smooth and her dwelling-place is near. But before virtue the gods have set toil 6 ,’ and a tedious and uphill road: then citing Homer as a witness that the gods may be influenced by men; for he also says:— ‘The gods, too, may be turned from their purpose; and men pray to them and avert their wrath by sacrifices and soothing entreaties, and by libations and the odour of fat, when they have sinned and transgressed 7 .’ And they produce a host of books written by Musaeus and Orpheus, who were children of the Moon and the Muses—that is what they say—according to which they perform their ritual, and persuade not only individuals, but whole cities, that expiations and atonements for sin may be made by sacrifices and amusements which fill a vacant hour, and are equally at the service of the living and the dead; the latter

(363) upon them the punishments which Glaucon described as the portion of the just who are reputed to be unjust; nothing else does their invention supply. Such is their manner of praising the one and censuring the other. Once more, Socrates, I will ask you to consider another way of speaking about justice and injustice, which is not confined to the poets, but is found in prose writers. The universal voice of mankind is always declaring that justice and virtue are honourable, but grievous and toilsome; and that the pleasures of vice and injustice are easy of attainment, and are only censured by law and opinion. They say also that honesty is for the most part less profitable than dishonesty; and they are quite ready to call wicked men happy, and to honour them both in public and private when they are rich or in any other way influential, while they despise and overlook those who may be weak and poor, even though acknowledging them to be better than the others. But most extraordinary of all is their mode of speaking about virtue and the gods: they say that the gods apportion calamity and misery to many good men, and good and happiness to the wicked. And mendicant prophets go to rich men’s doors and persuade them that they have a power committed to them by the gods of making an atonement for a man’s own or his ancestor’s

(28) And what follows, expressed indeed in foul language, but in a manner worthy of the voluptuaries. Wherefore the divine law appears to me necessarily to menace with fear, that, by caution and attention, the philosopher may acquire and retain absence of anxiety, continuing without fall and without sin in all things. For peace and freedom are not otherwise won, than by ceaseless and unyielding struggles with our lusts. For these stout and Olympic antagonists are keener than wasps, so to speak; and Pleasure especially, not by day only, but by night, is in dreams with witchcraft ensnaringly plotting and biting. How, then, can the Greeks any more be right in running down the law, when they themselves teach that Pleasure is the slave of fear? Socrates accordingly bids "people guard against enticements to eat when they are not hungry, and to drink when not thirsty, and the glances and kisses of the fair, as fitted to inject a deadlier poison than that of scorpions and spiders." And Antisthenes chose rather "to be demented than delighted." And the Theban Crates says: "Master these, exulting in the disposition of the soul, Vanquished neither by gold nor by languishing love, Nor are they any longer attendants to the wanton."

(5) Frankincense ought to be given to the Gods, but praise to good men.

It is requisite to defend those who are unjustly accused of having acted injuriously, but to praise those who excel in a certain good.

(1) The natural thirst, that ne'er is satisfied Excepting with the water for whose grace The woman of Samaria besought, Put me in travail, and haste goaded me Along the encumbered path behind my Leader And I was pitying that righteous vengeance; And lo! in the same manner as Luke writeth That Christ appeared to two upon the way From the sepulchral cave already risen, A shade appeared to us, and came behind us, Down gazing on the prostrate multitude, Nor were we ware of it, until it spake, Saying, "My brothers, may God give you peace!" We turned us suddenly, and Virgilius rendered To him the countersign thereto conforming. Thereon began he: "In the blessed council, Thee may the court veracious place in peace, That me doth banish in eternal exile!" "How," said he, and the while we went with speed, "If ye are shades whom God deigns not on high, Who up his stairs so far has guided you?" And said my Teacher: "If thou note the marks Which this one bears, and which the Angel traces Well shalt thou see he with the good must reign.

(1) Because the charity of my native place Constrained me, gathered I the scattered leaves, And gave them back to him, who now was hoarse. Then came we to the confine, where disparted The second round is from the third, and where A horrible form of Justice is beheld. Clearly to manifest these novel things, I say that we arrived upon a plain, Which from its bed rejecteth every plant; The dolorous forest is a garland to it All round about, as the sad moat to that; There close upon the edge we stayed our feet. The soil was of an arid and thick sand, Not of another fashion made than that Which by the feet of Cato once was pressed. Vengeance of God, O how much oughtest thou By each one to be dreaded, who doth read That which was manifest unto mine eyes! Of naked souls beheld I many herds, Who all were weeping very miserably, And over them seemed set a law diverse. Supine upon the ground some folk were lying; And some were sitting all drawn up together, And others went about continually.

(2) And the sun's face, uprising, overshadowed So that by tempering influence of vapours For a long interval the eye sustained it; Thus in the bosom of a cloud of flowers Which from those hands angelical ascended, And downward fell again inside and out, Over her snow-white veil with olive cinct Appeared a lady under a green mantle, Vested in colour of the living flame. And my own spirit, that already now So long a time had been, that in her presence Trembling with awe it had not stood abashed, Without more knowledge having by mine eyes, Through occult virtue that from her proceeded Of ancient love the mighty influence felt. As soon as on my vision smote the power Sublime, that had already pierced me through Ere from my boyhood I had yet come forth, To the left hand I turned with that reliance With which the little child runs to his mother, When he has fear, or when he is afflicted, To say unto Virgilius: "Not a drachm Of blood remains in me, that does not tremble; I know the traces of the ancient flame."

(101) To make these, I say, pure and clean, And, to please God, have quenched those fires, So that the fire of lust, that erst breathed flame, Has become a holy garden and a guiding light, Since you have turned the fire of wrath to meekness, And the darkness of ignorance to shining knowledge, Since you have turned the fire of greed into bounty, And the vile thorns of malice into a rose-garden; Since you have quenched all these fires of your own For my sake, so that those poisons are now pure sweets;

(367) we shall think that you are only exhorting us to keep injustice dark, and that you really agree with Thrasymachus in thinking that justice is another’s good and the interest of the stronger, and that injustice is a man’s own profit and interest, though injurious to the weaker. Now as you have admitted that justice is one of that highest class of goods which are desired indeed for their results, but in a far greater degree for their own sakes—like sight or hearing or knowledge or health, or any other real and natural and not merely conventional good—I would ask you in your praise of justice to regard one point only: I mean the essential good and evil which justice and injustice work in the possessors of them. Let others praise justice and censure injustice, magnifying the rewards and honours of the one and abusing the other; that is a manner of arguing which, coming from them, I am ready to tolerate, but from you who have spent your whole life in the consideration of this question, unless I hear the contrary from your own lips, I expect something better. And therefore, I say, not only prove to us that justice is better than injustice, but show what they either of them do to the possessor of them, which makes the one to be a good and the other an evil, whether seen or unseen by gods and men. I had always admired the genius of Glaucon and Adeimantus, but on hearing these words I was quite delighted, and said:

(255) 295 To say: The Horizon burns incense to Horus of Nn; provisions for the lords. 295 The horizon burns incense to Horus of Nn, 295 the heat of its flaming breath is against you who surrounded the chapel, 295 the poison of its flaming breath is against you who wear the Great (Lower Egyptian crown). 296 The horizon burns incense to Horus of Nn; provisions for the lords. 296 O the ugly, the ugly of form (speech?), the ugly of form, 297 remove thyself from thy place, lay down on the ground the dignity for N. 297 If thou removest not thyself from thy place and layest (not) down on the ground thy dignity for N.; 297 then will N. come, his face like the Great One, lord of the .thelmet, 297 mighty through that in which he is, injured; 298 then will he impart heat to his eye, which will surround you, 298 and will let go a tempest on those who did wrong, 298 and will let loose an inundation over the Ancients; 299 then will he strike away the arms of Shu under Nut, 299 and then will N. put his arm on the wall (protection) on which thou leanest. 300 The Great (R`) stands tip in the interior of his chapel, 300 and lays down to the ground his dignity for N., 300c, after N. had taken command (w) and had laid hold of knowledge (i).

(56) Now says Reason, What is the best Counsel and Remedy for the poor Soul? What shall it do in this Bath of Thorns and Thistles? Behold, we will show thee the Counsel of the Virgin, as it is given us for a victorious Comfort, and we will write it for a firm Memorial to ourselves; for it may come, that we ourselves may stand in Need of it, as we have already for a tedious While sweltered in this Bath of Thorns and Thistles, wherein we also attained this Garland; and therefore we must not be silent, but set forth the Gift of the Virgin, which helps against all the Gates of the Devil.

(380) ‘God plants guilt among men when he desires utterly to destroy a house.’ And if a poet writes of the sufferings of Niobe—the subject of the tragedy in which these iambic verses occur—or of the house of Pelops, or of the Trojan war or on any similar theme, either we must not permit him to say that these are the works of God, or if they are of God, he must devise some explanation of them such as we are seeking; he must say that God did what was just and right, and they were the better for being punished; but that those who are punished are miserable, and that God is the author of their misery—the poet is not to be permitted to say; though he may say that the wicked are miserable because they require to be punished, and are benefited by receiving punishment from God; but that God being good is the author of evil to any one is to be strenuously denied, and not to be said or sung or heard in verse or prose by any one whether old or young in any well-ordered commonwealth. Such a fiction is suicidal, ruinous, impious. I agree with you, he replied, and am ready to give my assent to the law. Let this then be one of our rules and principles concerning the gods, to which our poets and reciters will be expected to conform,—that God is not the author of all things, but of good only. That will do, he said.

(5) And this will be completely effected, if we unfeignedly condemn what is the fuel of lust: I mean pleasure. Now they say that the idea of it is a gentle and bland excitement, accompanied with some sensation. Enthralled by this, Menelaus, they say, after the capture of Troy, having rushed to put Helen to death, as having been the cause of such calamities, was nevertheless not able to effect it, being subdued by her beauty, which made him think of pleasure. Whence the tragedians, jeering, exclaimed insultingly against him: "But thou, when on her breast thou lookedst, thy sword Didst cast away, and with a kiss the traitress, Ever-beauteous wretch, thou didst embrace."

(7) "Give them daughters and sons. Let them not meet disgrace, nor misfortune, let not the deceiver come behind or before them. Let them not fall, let them not be wounded, let them not fornicate, nor be condemned by justice. Let them not fall on the descent or on the ascent of the road. Let them not encounter obstacles back of them or before them, nor anything which strikes them. Grant them good roads, beautiful, level roads. Let them not have misfortune, nor disgrace, through Thy fault, through Thy sorceries.

(4) But the other, magnanimous, at whose desire I had remained, did not his aspect change, Neither his neck he moved, nor bent his side. "And if," continuing his first discourse, "They have that art," he said, "not learned aright, That more tormenteth me, than doth this bed. But fifty times shall not rekindled be The countenance of the Lady who reigns here, Ere thou shalt know how heavy is that art; And as thou wouldst to the sweet world return, Say why that people is so pitiless Against my race in each one of its laws?" Whence I to him: "The slaughter and great carnage Which have with crimson stained the Arbia, cause Such orisons in our temple to be made." After his head he with a sigh had shaken, "There I was not alone," he said, "nor surely Without a cause had with the others moved. But there I was alone, where every one Consented to the laying waste of Florence, He who defended her with open face." "Ah! so hereafter may your seed repose," I him entreated, "solve for me that knot, Which has entangled my conceptions here.

(3) But soon the facts shall be the Naiades Who shall this difficult enigma solve, Without destruction of the flocks and harvests. Note thou; and even as by me are uttered These words, so teach them unto those who live That life which is a running unto death; And bear in mind, whene'er thou writest them, Not to conceal what thou hast seen the plant, That twice already has been pillaged here. Whoever pillages or shatters it, With blasphemy of deed offendeth God, Who made it holy for his use alone. For biting that, in pain and in desire Five thousand years and more the first-born soul Craved Him, who punished in himself the bite. Thy genius slumbers, if it deem it not For special reason so pre-eminent In height, and so inverted in its summit. And if thy vain imaginings had not been Water of Elsa round about thy mind, And Pyramus to the mulberry, their pleasure, Thou by so many circumstances only The justice of the interdict of God Morally in the tree wouldst recognize.

(6) "Summae Deus clementiae," in the bosom Of the great burning chanted then I heard, Which made me no less eager to turn round; And spirits saw I walking through the flame; Wherefore I looked, to my own steps and theirs Apportioning my sight from time to time. After the close which to that hymn is made, Aloud they shouted, "Virum non cognosco;" Then recommenced the hymn with voices low. This also ended, cried they: "To the wood Diana ran, and drove forth Helice Therefrom, who had of Venus felt the poison." Then to their song returned they; then the wives They shouted, and the husbands who were chaste. As virtue and the marriage vow imposes. And I believe that them this mode suffices, For all the time the fire is burning them; With such care is it needful, and such food, That the last wound of all should be closed up.

(1) O Thou insensate care of mortal men, How inconclusive are the syllogisms That make thee beat thy wings in downward flight! One after laws and one to aphorisms Was going, and one following the priesthood, And one to reign by force or sophistry, And one in theft, and one in state affairs, One in the pleasures of the flesh involved Wearied himself, one gave himself to ease; When I, from all these things emancipate, With Beatrice above there in the Heavens With such exceeding glory was received! When each one had returned unto that point Within the circle where it was before, It stood as in a candlestick a candle; And from within the effulgence which at first Had spoken unto me, I heard begin Smiling while it more luminous became: "Even as I am kindled in its ray, So, looking into the Eternal Light, The occasion of thy thoughts I apprehend. Thou doubtest, and wouldst have me to resift In language so extended and so open My speech, that to thy sense it may be plain,