Canto XXII

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 thereafter?” And he to him: “Thou first directedst me Towards Parnassus, in its grots to drink, And first concerning God didst me enlighten. Thou didst as he who walketh in the night, Who bears his light behind, which helps him not, But maketh wise the persons after him, When thou didst say: ‘The age renews itself, Justice returns, and man’s primeval time, And a new progeny descends from heaven.’ Through thee I Poet was, through thee a Christian; But that thou better see what I design, To color it will I extend my hand. Already was the world in every part Pregnant with the true creed, disseminated By messengers of the eternal kingdom; And thy assertion, spoken of above, With the new preachers was in unison; Whence I to visit them the custom took. Then they became so holy in my sight, That, when Domitian persecuted them, Not without tears of mine were their laments; And all the while that I on earth remained, Them I befriended, and their upright customs Made me disparage all the other sects. And ere I led the Greeks unto the rivers Of Thebes, in poetry, I was baptized, But out of fear was covertly a Christian, For a long time professing paganism; And this lukewarmness caused me the fourth circle To circuit round more than four centuries. Thou, therefore, who hast raised the covering That hid from me whatever good I speak of, While in ascending we have time to spare, Tell me, in what place is our friend Terentius, Caecilius, Plautus, Varro, if thou knowest; Tell me if they are damned, and in what