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    Canto XXII

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    Already was the Angel left behind us,
    The Angel who to the sixth round had turned us,
    Having erased one mark from off my face;
    And those who have in justice their desire
    Had said to us, "Beati," in their voices,
    With "sitio," and without more ended it.
    And I, more light than through the other passes,
    Went onward so, that without any labour
    I followed upward the swift-footed spirits;
    When thus Virgilius began: "The love
    Kindled by virtue aye another kindles,
    Provided outwardly its flame appear.
    Hence from the hour that Juvenal descended
    Among us into the infernal Limbo,
    Who made apparent to me thy affection,
    My kindliness towards thee was as great
    As ever bound one to an unseen person,
    So that these stairs will now seem short to me.
    But tell me, and forgive me as a friend,
    If too great confidence let loose the rein,
    And as a friend now hold discourse with me;
    How was it possible within thy breast
    For avarice to find place, 'mid so much wisdom
    As thou wast filled with by thy diligence?"
    These words excited Statius at first
    Somewhat to laughter; afterward he answered:
    "Each word of thine is love's dear sign to me.
    Verily oftentimes do things appear
    Which give fallacious matter to our doubts,
    Instead of the true causes which are hidden!
    Thy question shows me thy belief to be
    That I was niggard in the other life,
    It may be from the circle where I was;
    Therefore know thou, that avarice was removed
    Too far from me; and this extravagance
    Thousands of lunar periods have punished.
    And were it not that I my thoughts uplifted,
    When I the passage heard where thou exclaimest,
    As if indignant, unto human nature,
    'To what impellest thou not, O cursed hunger
    Of gold, the appetite of mortal men?'
    Revolving I should feel the dismal joustings.
    Then I perceived the hands could spread too wide
    Their wings in spending, and repented me
    As well of that as of my other sins;
    How many with shorn hair shall rise again
    Because of ignorance, which from this sin
    Cuts off repentance living and in death!
    And know that the transgression which rebuts
    By direct opposition any sin
    Together with it here its verdure dries.
    Therefore if I have been among that folk

    Which mourns its avarice, to purify me,
    For its opposite has this befallen me."
    "Now when thou sangest the relentless weapons
    Of the twofold affliction of Jocasta,"
    The singer of the Songs Bucolic said,
    "From that which Clio there with thee preludes,
    It does not seem that yet had made thee faithful
    That faith without which no good works suffice.
    If this be so, what candles or what sun
    Scattered thy darkness so that thou didst trim
    Thy sails behind the Fisherman
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