4 were making a tumult which whirls always in that air forever dark, 30 like the sand when the whirlwind breathes. And I, who had my head girt with horror, said: “Master, what is that which I hear? 33 and what folk is it that seems so overcome with its woe?” And he to me: “This miserable mode maintain the wretched souls of those 36 who lived without infamy and without praise. They are mingled with that caitiff choir of the angels, who were not rebels, 39 nor were faithful to God, but were for themselves. The heavens chased them out in order to be not less beautiful, nor does the deep Hell receive them, 42 for the damned would have some boast of them.” And I: “Master, what is so grievous to them, that makes them lament so bitterly?” 45 He answered: “I will tell thee very briefly. These have not hope of death; and their blind life is so debased, 48 that they are envious of every other lot. Fame of them the world permits not to be; mercy and justice disdain them. 51 Let us not speak of them, but do thou look and pass on.” And I, who was gazing, saw a banner, which, whirling, ran so swiftly 54 that it seemed to me disdainful of any pause,
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