Beck’ning me; at the which my master smil’d:
Nor was this all; but greater honour still
They gave me, for they made me of their tribe;
And I was sixth amid so learn’d a band.
Far as the luminous beacon on we pass’d
Speaking of matters, then befitting well
To speak, now fitter left untold. At foot
Of a magnificent castle we arriv’d,
Seven times with lofty walls begirt, and round
Defended by a pleasant stream. O’er this
As o’er dry land we pass’d. Next through seven gates
I with those sages enter’d, and we came
Into a mead with lively verdure fresh.
There dwelt a race, who slow their eyes around
Majestically mov’d, and in their port
Bore eminent authority; they spake
Seldom, but all their words were tuneful sweet.
We to one side retir’d, into a place
Open and bright and lofty, whence each one
Stood manifest to view. Incontinent
There on the green enamel of the plain
Were shown me the great spirits, by whose sight
I am exalted in my own esteem.
Electra there I saw accompanied
By many, among whom Hector I knew,
Anchises’ pious son, and with hawk’s eye
Caesar all arm’d, and by Camilla there
Penthesilea. On the other side
Old King Latinus, seated by his child
Lavinia, and that Brutus I beheld,
Who Tarquin chas’d, Lucretia, Cato’s wife
Marcia, with Julia and Cornelia there;
And sole apart retir’d, the Soldan fierce.
Then when a little more I rais’d my brow,
I spied the master of the sapient throng,
Seated amid the philosophic train.
Him all admire, all pay him rev’rence due.
There Socrates and Plato both I mark’d,
Nearest to him in rank; Democritus,
Who sets the world at chance, Diogenes,
With Heraclitus, and Empedocles,
And Anaxagoras, and Thales sage,
Zeno, and Dioscorides well read
In nature’s secret lore. Orpheus I mark’d
And Linus, Tully and moral Seneca,
Euclid and Ptolemy, Hippocrates,
Galenus, Avicen, and him who made
That commentary vast, Averroes.
Of all to speak at full were vain attempt;
For my wide theme so urges, that ofttimes
My words fall short of what bechanc’d. In two
The six associates part. Another way
My sage guide leads me, from that air serene,
Into a climate ever vex’d with storms:
And to a part I come where no light shines.
From the first circle I descended thus
Down to the second, which, a lesser space
Embracing, so much more of grief contains
Provoking bitter moans. There, Minos stands
Grinning with ghastly feature: he, of all
Who enter, strict examining the crimes,
Gives sentence, and dismisses them beneath,
According as he foldeth him around:
For when before him comes th’ ill fated soul,
It all confesses; and that judge severe