And I, whom a new thirst still goaded on,
  Without was mute, and said within: "Perchance
  The too much questioning I make annoys him."

But that true Father, who had comprehended
  The timid wish, that opened not itself,
  By speaking gave me hardihood to speak.

Therefore I thee entreat, sweet Father dear,
  To teach me love, to which thou dost refer
  Every good action and its contrary."

"Direct," he said, "towards me the keen eyes
  Of intellect, and clear will be to thee
  The error of the blind, who would be leaders.

Your apprehension from some real thing
  An image draws, and in yourselves displays it
  So that it makes the soul turn unto it.

And if, when turned, towards it she incline,
  Love is that inclination; it is nature,
  Which is by pleasure bound in you anew 

So comes the captive soul into desire,
  Which is a motion spiritual, and ne'er rests
  Until she doth enjoy the thing beloved.

Now may apparent be to thee how hidden
  The truth is from those people, who aver
  All love is in itself a laudable thing; 

"Thy words, and my sequacious intellect,"
  I answered him, "have love revealed to me;
  But that has made me more impregned with doubt;

For if love from without be offered us,
  And with another foot the soul go not,
  If right or wrong she go, 'tis not her merit." 

Every substantial form, that segregate
  From matter is, and with it is united,
  Specific power has in itself collected,

Which without act is not perceptible,
  Nor shows itself except by its effect,
  As life does in a plant by the green leaves.

Which are in you as instinct in the bee
  To make its honey; and this first desire
  Merit of praise or blame containeth not.

Now, that to this all others may be gathered,
  Innate within you is the power that counsels,
  And it should keep the threshold of assent.

Those who, in reasoning, to the bottom went,
  Were of this innate liberty aware,
  Therefore bequeathed they Ethics to the world.

Supposing, then, that from necessity
  Springs every love that is within you kindled,
  Within yourselves the power is to restrain it.

The moon, belated almost unto midnight,
  Now made the stars appear to us more rare,
  Formed like a bucket, that is all ablaze,

And counter to the heavens ran through those paths
  Which the sun sets aflame, when he of Rome
  Sees it 'twixt Sardes and Corsicans go down;

Whence I, who reason manifest and plain
  In answer to my questions had received,
  Stood like a man in drowsy reverie.

But taken from me was this drowsiness
  Suddenly by a people, that behind
  Our backs already had come round to us. 

So they along that circle curve their step,
  From what I saw of those approaching us,
  Who by good-will and righteous love are ridden.

Full soon they were upon us, because running
  Moved onward all that mighty multitude,
  And two in the advance cried out, lamenting, 

"Quick! quick! so that the time may not be lost
  By little love!" forthwith the others cried,
  "For ardour in well-doing freshens grace!"

"O folk, in whom an eager fervour now
  Supplies perhaps delay and negligence,
  Put by you in well-doing, through lukewarmness, 

These were the words of him who was my Guide;
  And some one of those spirits said: "Come on
  Behind us, and the opening shalt thou find;

So full of longing are we to move onward,
  That stay we cannot; therefore pardon us,
  If thou for churlishness our justice take.

And he has one foot in the grave already,
  Who shall erelong lament that monastery,
  And sorry be of having there had power,

Because his son, in his whole body sick,
  And worse in mind, and who was evil-born,
  He put into the place of its true pastor."

And he who was in every need my succour
  Said: "Turn thee hitherward; see two of them
  Come fastening upon slothfulness their teeth."

In rear of all they shouted: "Sooner were
  The people dead to whom the sea was opened,
  Than their inheritors the Jordan saw;

Then when from us so separated were
  Those shades, that they no longer could be seen,
  Within me a new thought did entrance find,

Whence others many and diverse were born;
  And so I lapsed from one into another,
  That in a reverie mine eyes I closed,