Now was it the ascent no hindrance brooked,
  Because the sun had his meridian circle
  To Taurus left, and night to Scorpio;

Wherefore as doth a man who tarries not,
  But goes his way, whate'er to him appear,
  If of necessity the sting transfix him,

In this wise did we enter through the gap,
  Taking the stairway, one before the other,
  Which by its narrowness divides the climbers.

And as the little stork that lifts its wing
  With a desire to fly, and does not venture
  To leave the nest, and lets it downward droop,

Even such was I, with the desire of asking
  Kindled and quenched, unto the motion coming
  He makes who doth address himself to speak.

Not for our pace, though rapid it might be,
  My father sweet forbore, but said: "Let fly
  The bow of speech thou to the barb hast drawn."

With confidence I opened then my mouth,
  And I began: "How can one meagre grow
  There where the need of nutriment applies not?"

"If thou wouldst call to mind how Meleager
  Was wasted by the wasting of a brand,
  This would not," said he, "be to thee so sour;

And wouldst thou think how at each tremulous motion
  Trembles within a mirror your own image;
  That which seems hard would mellow seem to thee.

But that thou mayst content thee in thy wish
  Lo Statius here; and him I call and pray
  He now will be the healer of thy wounds."

"If I unfold to him the eternal vengeance,"
  Responded Statius, "where thou present art,
  Be my excuse that I can naught deny thee."

Then he began: "Son, if these words of mine
  Thy mind doth contemplate and doth receive,
  They'll be thy light unto the How thou sayest.

The perfect blood, which never is drunk up
  Into the thirsty veins, and which remaineth
  Like food that from the table thou removest,

Takes in the heart for all the human members
  Virtue informative, as being that
  Which to be changed to them goes through the veins

Again digest, descends it where 'tis better
  Silent to be than say; and then drops thence
  Upon another's blood in natural vase.

There one together with the other mingles,
  One to be passive meant, the other active
  By reason of the perfect place it springs from;

And being conjoined, begins to operate,
  Coagulating first, then vivifying
  What for its matter it had made consistent.

The active virtue, being made a soul
  As of a plant, (in so far different,
  This on the way is, that arrived already,)

Then works so much, that now it moves and feels
  Like a sea-fungus, and then undertakes
  To organize the powers whose seed it is.

Now, Son, dilates and now distends itself
  The virtue from the generator's heart,
  Where nature is intent on all the members.

But how from animal it man becomes
  Thou dost not see as yet; this is a point
  Which made a wiser man than thou once err

So far, that in his doctrine separate
  He made the soul from possible intellect,
  For he no organ saw by this assumed.

Open thy breast unto the truth that's coming,
  And know that, just as soon as in the foetus
  The articulation of the brain is perfect,

The primal Motor turns to it well pleased
  At so great art of nature, and inspires
  A spirit new with virtue all replete,