(6) Say I am angered not against the instrument — the stick or whatso it may be — but against him who moves it. But he is moved by hatred; it is better then for me to hate hatred. I myself in former times have wrought the same suffering for other creatures; then I deserve this for having done hurt to living beings. The cause of my suffering is twofold — my enemy's sword and my body. He has taken the sword, I the body; with which shall I be angry? What I have got is an ulcer in the shape of a body, unable to bear the touch; and thus tortured in the blindness of desire, with what shall I be wroth? I seek not suffering, yet in my folly seek the cause of suffering; since my pain comes from my own offence, why shall I be wroth with another? The forest whose leaves are swords, the birds of hell, spring from my own works; with whom then shall I be wroth? They who do me hurt are moved thereto by my works, and thence they fall into hell; surely it is I that undo them! Thanks to them, my guilt through much patience fades away; thanks to me, they go to the long agonies of hell. It is I who do them hurt, they who do me kindness; base-spirited fellow, wherefore this absurd anger? If I fall not into hell, it will be by the merit of my spirit; what matter is it to them that I save myself? If I should return them evil for evil, they would not be saved thereby; my progress would be wrecked; and these poor creatures would be lost.

(3) I have no anger against the gall and the rest of my humours, although they cause great suffering; then can one be wroth against thinking beings, who likewise are deranged by outer forces? As a bodily pain arises unwilled [by the humours], so too wrath perforce arises unwilled [in the offender]. A man does not become angry of his free will and with purpose of anger; nor does wrath resolve of itself to break forth before it breaks forth. All offences, all the various sins, spring of necessity from outer forces; none are self-guided. The total of outer forces has no consciousness that it engenders an effect, and the effect has no consciousness that it is engendered. The " Primal Matter " and " Soul " of which forsooth men talk are imaginations. They do not come into being with consciousness of doing so. Before coming into being they do not exist; and who can then desire to come into being? If the " soul " is active upon its objects, it will not cease thence; and if it is constant, impassive, and like the ether, it is manifestly inactive; for though it be joined to outer forces, how can a changeless thing act? What part of the action is done by a thing which at the time of action is the same as before it? If " its own action " is the bond [between soul and object], what is the ground of this? Thus every. thing depends on a cause, and this cause likewise? is not independent; in no wise, then, can wrath 1 be felt against beings mechanical as phantoms.

(4) "I see full well," said I, "O sacred lamp! How love unfettered in this court sufficeth To follow the eternal Providence; But this is what seems hard for me to see, Wherefore predestinate wast thou alone Unto this office from among thy consorts." No sooner had I come to the last word, Than of its middle made the light a centre, Whirling itself about like a swift millstone. When answer made the love that was therein: "On me directed is a light divine, Piercing through this in which I am embosomed, Of which the virtue with my sight conjoined Lifts me above myself so far, I see The supreme essence from which this is drawn. Hence comes the joyfulness with which I flame, For to my sight, as far as it is clear, The clearness of the flame I equal make. But that soul in the heaven which is most pure, That seraph which his eye on God most fixes, Could this demand of thine not satisfy; Because so deeply sinks in the abyss Of the eternal statute what thou askest, From all created sight it is cut off.

(3) It should no longer now seem difficult To thee, when it is said that a just vengeance By a just court was afterward avenged. But now do I behold thy mind entangled From thought to thought within a knot, from which With great desire it waits to free itself. Thou sayest, 'Well discern I what I hear; But it is hidden from me why God willed For our redemption only this one mode.' Buried remaineth, brother, this decree Unto the eyes of every one whose nature Is in the flame of love not yet adult. Verily, inasmuch as at this mark One gazes long and little is discerned, Wherefore this mode was worthiest will I say. Goodness Divine, which from itself doth spurn All envy, burning in itself so sparkles That the eternal beauties it unfolds. Whate'er from this immediately distils Has afterwards no end, for ne'er removed Is its impression when it sets its seal. Whate'er from this immediately rains down Is wholly free, because it is not subject Unto the influences of novel things.

(3) To Him the (Divine Righteousness) answered with his sanctity. (Great was our perplexity); a chieftain who war capable of smiting back (their fury), and who was himself without hate (was not to be obtained by us); among such things as these, those things are not to be known (by beings such as we) which are the influences which approach (and move) the lofty fires (revealing the favour and the will of God ). Of beings He is the mightiest to whom those who have performed their actions approach with invocations. (He has no need to ask!)

(4) Wherefore are they inside of the red city Not punished, if God has them in his wrath, And if he has not, wherefore in such fashion?" And unto me he said: "Why wanders so Thine intellect from that which it is wont? Or, sooth, thy mind where is it elsewhere looking? Hast thou no recollection of those words With which thine Ethics thoroughly discusses The dispositions three, that Heaven abides not,— Incontinence, and Malice, and insane Bestiality? and how Incontinence Less God offendeth, and less blame attracts? If thou regardest this conclusion well, And to thy mind recallest who they are That up outside are undergoing penance, Clearly wilt thou perceive why from these felons They separated are, and why less wroth Justice divine doth smite them with its hammer." "O Sun, that healest all distempered vision, Thou dost content me so, when thou resolvest, That doubting pleases me no less than knowing! Once more a little backward turn thee," said I, "There where thou sayest that usury offends Goodness divine, and disengage the knot."

(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.