lifetime
concealed his
genius. I saluted him piously and remained for a long
time without speech.
At last when my halting voice could proceed out of my throat:
"O thou, so dear to the Ausonian Muses, thou honour of the Latin name,
Virgil," cried I, "it is through thee I have known what beauty is, it is
through thee I have known what the tables of the gods and the beds of the
goddesses are like. Suffer the praises of the humblest of thy adorers."
"Arise, stranger," answered the
divine poet. "I
perceive that thou art a
living being among the shades, and that thy body treads down the grass in this
eternal evening. Thou art not the first man who has
descended before his death
into these dwellings, although all
intercourse between us and the living is
difficult. But cease from praise; I do not like eulogies and the confused
sounds of glory have always offended my ears. That is why I fled from Rome,
where I was known to the idle and curious, and laboured in the
solitude of my
beloved Parthenope. And then I am not so convinced that the men of thy
generation understand my verses that should be gratified by thy praises. Who
art thou?"
"I am called Marbodius of the Kingdom of Alca. I made my
profession in the
Abbey of Corrigan. I read thy poems by day and I read them by night. It is
thee whom I have come to see in Hell; I was
impatient to know what thy fate
was. On earth the
learned often
dispute about it. Some hold it
probable that,
having lived under the power of demons, thou art now burning in
inextinguishable flames; others, more
cautious, pronounce no opinion,
believing that all which is said
concerning the dead is
uncertain and full of
lies; several, though not in truth the ablest,
maintain that, because thou
didst elevate the tone of the Sicilian Muses and foretell that a new progeny
would
descend from heaven, thou wert admitted, like the Emperor Trajan, to
enjoy
eternal blessedness in the Christian heaven."
"Thou seest that such is not the case," answered the shade, smiling.
"I meet thee in truth, O Virgil, among the heroes and sages in those Elysian
Fields which thou thyself hast described. Thus,
contrary to what several on
earth believe, no one has come to seek thee on the part of Him who reigns on
high?
After a rather long silence:
"I will
concealnought from thee. He sent for me; one of his
messengers, a
simple man, came to say that I was expected, and that, although I had not been
initiated into their mysteries, in
consideration of my
prophetic verses, a
place had been reserved for me among those of the new sect. But I refused to
accept that
invitation; I had no desire to change my lace. I did so not
because I share the
admiration of the Greeks for the Elysian fields, or
because I taste here those joys which caused Proserpine to lose the
remembrance of her mother. I never believed much myself in what I say about
these things in the 'Aeneid.' I was instructed by philosophers and men of
science and I had a correct foreboding of the truth. Life in hell is
extremely
attenuated; we feel neither pleasure nor pain; we are as if we were not. The
dead have no
existence here except such as the living lend them. Nevertheless
I prefer to remain here."
"But what reason didst thou give, O Virgil, for so strange a refusal?"
"I gave excellent ones. I said to the
messenger of the god that I did not
deserve the honour he brought me, and that a meaning had been given to my
verses which they did not bear. In truth I have not in my fourth Eclogue
betrayed the faith of my ancestors. Some
ignorant Jews alone have interpreted
in favour of a
barbarian god a verse which celebrates the return of the golden
age predicted by the Sibylline oracles. I excused myself then on the ground
that I could not occupy a place which was destined for me in error and to
which I recognised that I had no right. Then I alleged my
disposition and my
tastes, which do not
accord with the customs of the new heavens.
"'I am not unsociable,' said I to this man. 'I have shown in life a
complaisant and easy
disposition, although the
extremesimplicity of my habits
caused me to be suspected of
avarice. I kept nothing for myself alone. My
library was open to all and I have conformed my conduct to that fine
saying of
Euripides, "all ought to be common among friends." Those praises that seemed
obtrusive when I myself received them became
agreeable to me when addressed to
Varius or to Macer. But at bottom I am
rustic and uncultivated. I take
pleasure in the society of animals; I was so
zealous in observing them and