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himself to sit,

      Soon as that way he saw us pass. "O thou!"

      He cried, "who through the infernal shades art led,

      Own, if again thou know'st me. Thou wast fram'd

      Or ere my frame was broken." I replied:

      "The anguish thou endur'st perchance so takes

      Thy form from my remembrance, that it seems

      As if I saw thee never. But inform

      Me who thou art, that in a place so sad

      Art set, and in such torment, that although

      Other be greater, more disgustful none

      Can be imagin'd." He in answer thus:

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      "Thy city heap'd with envy to the brim,

      Ay that the measure overflows its bounds,

      Held me in brighter days. Ye citizens

      Were wont to name me Ciacco. For the sin

      Of glutt'ny, damned vice, beneath this rain,

      E'en as thou see'st, I with fatigue am worn;

      Nor I sole spirit in this woe: all these

      Have by like crime incurr'd like punishment."

      No more he said, and I my speech resum'd:

      "Ciacco! thy dire affliction grieves me much,

      Even to tears. But tell me, if thou know'st,

      What shall at length befall the citizens

      Of the divided city; whether any just one

      Inhabit there: and tell me of the cause,

      Whence jarring discord hath assail'd it thus?"

      He then: "After long striving they will come

      To blood; and the wild party from the woods

      Will chase the other with much injury forth.

      Then it behoves, that this must fall, within

      Three solar circles; and the other rise

      By borrow'd force of one, who under shore

      Now rests. It shall a long space hold aloof

      Its forehead, keeping under heavy weight

      The other oppress'd, indignant at the load,

      And grieving sore. The just are two in number,

      But they neglected. Av'rice, envy, pride,

      Three fatal sparks, have set the hearts of all

      On fire." Here ceas'd the lamentable sound;

      And I continu'd thus: "Still would I learn

      More from thee, farther parley still entreat.

      Of Farinata and Tegghiaio say,

      They who so well deserv'd, of Giacopo,

      Arrigo, Mosca, and the rest, who bent

      Their minds on working good. Oh! tell me where

      They bide, and to their knowledge let me come.

      For I am press'd with keen desire to hear,

      If heaven's sweet cup or poisonous drug of hell

      Be to their lip assign'd." He answer'd straight:

      "These are yet blacker spirits. Various crimes

      Have sunk them deeper in the dark abyss.

      If thou so far descendest, thou mayst see them.

      But to the pleasant world when thou return'st,

      Of me make mention, I entreat thee, there.

      No more I tell thee, answer thee no more."

      This said, his fixed eyes he turn'd askance,

      A little ey'd me, then bent down his head,

      And 'midst his blind companions with it fell.

      When thus my guide: "No more his bed he leaves,

      Ere the last angel-trumpet blow. The Power

      Adverse to these shall then in glory come,

      Each one forthwith to his sad tomb repair,

      Resume his fleshly vesture and his form,

      And hear the eternal doom re-echoing rend

      The vault." So pass'd we through that mixture foul

      Of spirits and rain, with tardy steps; meanwhile

      Touching, though slightly, on the life to come.

      For thus I question'd: "Shall these tortures, Sir!

      When the great sentence passes, be increas'd,

      Or mitigated, or as now severe?"

      He then: "Consult thy knowledge; that decides

      That as each thing to more perfection grows,

      It feels more sensibly both good and pain.

      Though ne'er to true perfection may arrive

      This race accurs'd, yet nearer then than now

      They shall approach it." Compassing that path

      Circuitous we journeyed, and discourse

      Much more than I relate between us pass'd:

      Till at the point, where the steps led below,

      Arriv'd, there Plutus, the great foe, we found.

      CANTO VII

      "AH me! O Satan! Satan!" loud exclaim'd

      Plutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm:

      And the kind sage, whom no event surpris'd,

      To comfort me thus spake: "Let not thy fear

      Harm thee, for power in him, be sure, is none

      To hinder down this rock thy safe descent."

      Then to that sworn lip turning, "Peace!" he cried,

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       "Curs'd wolf! thy fury inward on thyself

      Prey, and consume thee! Through the dark profound

      Not without cause he passes. So 't is will'd

      On high, there where the great Archangel pour'd

      Heav'n's vengeance on the first adulterer proud."

      As sails full spread and bellying with the wind

      Drop suddenly collaps'd, if the mast split;

      So to the ground down dropp'd the cruel fiend.

      Thus we, descending to the fourth steep ledge,

      Gain'd on the dismal shore, that all the woe

      Hems in of all the universe. Ah me!

      Almighty Justice! in what store thou heap'st

      New pains, new troubles, as I here beheld!

      Wherefore doth fault of ours bring us to this?

      E'en as a billow, on Charybdis rising,

      Against encounter'd billow dashing breaks;

      Such is the dance this wretched race must lead,

      Whom more than elsewhere numerous here I found,

      From one side and the other, with loud voice,

      Both roll'd on weights by main forge of their breasts,

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