(5) Yet would I not thy neighbours thou shouldst envy, Because thy life into the future reaches Beyond the punishment of their perfidies." When by its silence showed that sainted soul That it had finished putting in the woof Into that web which I had given it warped, Began I, even as he who yearneth after, Being in doubt, some counsel from a person Who seeth, and uprightly wills, and loves: "Well see I, father mine, how spurreth on The time towards me such a blow to deal me As heaviest is to him who most gives way. Therefore with foresight it is well I arm me, That, if the dearest place be taken from me, I may not lose the others by my songs. Down through the world of infinite bitterness, And o'er the mountain, from whose beauteous summit The eyes of my own Lady lifted me, And afterward through heaven from light to light, I have learned that which, if I tell again, Will be a savour of strong herbs to many. And if I am a timid friend to truth, I fear lest I may lose my life with those Who will hereafter call this time the olden."

(6) Then Breath was about to go off. As a large fine horse of the Indus-land might pull up the pegs of his foot- tethers together, thus indeed did it pull up those vital breaths together. They said: ' Sir, go not off! Verily, we shall not be able to live without you! ' ' If such I am, make me an offering/ < So be it.'

(5) "O my dear Guide, who more than seven times Hast rendered me security, and drawn me From imminent peril that before me stood, Do not desert me," said I, "thus undone; And if the going farther be denied us, Let us retrace our steps together swiftly." And that Lord, who had led me thitherward, Said unto me: "Fear not; because our passage None can take from us, it by Such is given. But here await me, and thy weary spirit Comfort and nourish with a better hope; For in this nether world I will not leave thee." So onward goes and there abandons me My Father sweet, and I remain in doubt, For No and Yes within my head contend. I could not hear what he proposed to them; But with them there he did not linger long, Ere each within in rivalry ran back. They closed the portals, those our adversaries, On my Lord's breast, who had remained without And turned to me with footsteps far between.

(4) So did Forese let the holy flock Pass by, and came with me behind it, saying, "When will it be that I again shall see thee?" "How long," I answered, "I may live, I know not; Yet my return will not so speedy be, But I shall sooner in desire arrive; Because the place where I was set to live From day to day of good is more depleted, And unto dismal ruin seems ordained." "Now go," he said, "for him most guilty of it At a beast's tail behold I dragged along Towards the valley where is no repentance. Faster at every step the beast is going, Increasing evermore until it smites him, And leaves the body vilely mutilated. Not long those wheels shall turn," and he uplifted His eyes to heaven, "ere shall be clear to thee That which my speech no farther can declare. Now stay behind; because the time so precious Is in this kingdom, that I lose too much By coming onward thus abreast with thee." As sometimes issues forth upon a gallop A cavalier from out a troop that ride, And seeks the honour of the first encounter,

(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) Not upon thee had he stretched forth his hand; Whereas the thing incredible has caused me To put him to an act which grieveth me. But tell him who thou wast, so that by way Of some amends thy fame he may refresh Up in the world, to which he can return." And the trunk said: "So thy sweet words allure me, I cannot silent be; and you be vexed not, That I a little to discourse am tempted. I am the one who both keys had in keeping Of Frederick's heart, and turned them to and fro So softly in unlocking and in locking, That from his secrets most men I withheld; Fidelity I bore the glorious office So great, I lost thereby my sleep and pulses. The courtesan who never from the dwelling Of Caesar turned aside her strumpet eyes, Death universal and the vice of courts, Inflamed against me all the other minds, And they, inflamed, did so inflame Augustus, That my glad honours turned to dismal mournings. My spirit, in disdainful exultation, Thinking by dying to escape disdain, Made me unjust against myself, the just.

(3) "If they were banished, they returned on all sides," I answered him, "the first time and the second; But yours have not acquired that art aright." Then there uprose upon the sight, uncovered Down to the chin, a shadow at his side; I think that he had risen on his knees. Round me he gazed, as if solicitude He had to see if some one else were with me, But after his suspicion was all spent, Weeping, he said to me: "If through this blind Prison thou goest by loftiness of genius, Where is my son? and why is he not with thee?" And I to him: "I come not of myself; He who is waiting yonder leads me here, Whom in disdain perhaps your Guido had." His language and the mode of punishment Already unto me had read his name; On that account my answer was so full. Up starting suddenly, he cried out: "How Saidst thou,—he had? Is he not still alive? Does not the sweet light strike upon his eyes?" When he became aware of some delay, Which I before my answer made, supine He fell again, and forth appeared no more.

(3) Withouten which whoso his life consumes Such vestige leaveth of himself on earth, As smoke in air or in the water foam. And therefore raise thee up, o'ercome the anguish With spirit that o'ercometh every battle, If with its heavy body it sink not. A longer stairway it behoves thee mount; 'Tis not enough from these to have departed; Let it avail thee, if thou understand me." Then I uprose, showing myself provided Better with breath than I did feel myself, And said: "Go on, for I am strong and bold." Upward we took our way along the crag, Which jagged was, and narrow, and difficult, And more precipitous far than that before. Speaking I went, not to appear exhausted; Whereat a voice from the next moat came forth, Not well adapted to articulate words. I know not what it said, though o'er the back I now was of the arch that passes there; But he seemed moved to anger who was speaking. I was bent downward, but my living eyes Could not attain the bottom, for the dark; Wherefore I: "Master, see that thou arrive