Divine Comedy, Longfellow's Translation, Hell

“Rueful to thee the thirst be wherewith cracks Thy tongue,” the Greek said, “and the putrid water That hedges so thy paunch before thine eyes.”

Then the false-coiner: “So is gaping wide Thy mouth for speaking evil, as ’tis wont; Because if I have thirst, and humour stuff me

Thou hast the burning and the head that aches, And to lick up the mirror of Narcissus Thou wouldst not want words many to invite thee.”

In listening to them was I wholly fixed, When said the Master to me: “Now just look, For little wants it that I quarrel with thee.”

When him I heard in anger speak to me, I turned me round towards him with such shame That still it eddies through my memory.

And as he is who dreams of his own harm, Who dreaming wishes it may be a dream, So that he craves what is, as if it were not;

Such I became, not having power to speak, For to excuse myself I wished, and still Excused myself, and did not think I did it.

“Less shame doth wash away a greater fault,” The Master said, “than this of thine has been; Therefore thyself disburden of all sadness,

And make account that I am aye beside thee, If e’er it come to pass that fortune bring thee Where there are people in a like dispute;

For a base wish it is to wish to hear it.”