Dante’s noble pagans

“O you who honor art and science both, 
who are these souls whose dignity has kept 
their way of being, separate from the rest?”
And he to me: “The honor of their name, 
which echoes up above within your life, 
gains Heaven’s grace, and that advances them.”
Meanwhile there was a voice that I could hear: 
“Pay honor to the estimable poet; 
his shadow, which had left us, now returns.”
After that voice was done, when there was silence, 
I saw four giant shades approaching us; 
in aspect, they were neither sad nor joyous.
My kindly master then began by saying: 
“Look well at him who holds that sword in hand 
who moves before the other three as lord.
That shade is Homer, the consummate poet; 
the other one is Horace, satirist; 
the third is Ovid, and the last is Lucan.
Because each of these spirits shares with me 
the name called out before by the lone voice, 
they welcome me-and, doing that, do well.”
And so I saw that splendid school assembled 
led by the lord of song incomparable, 
who like an eagle soars above the rest.
Soon after they had talked a while together, 
they turned to me, saluting cordially; 
and having witnessed this, my master smiled;
and even greater honor then was mine, 
for they invited me to join their ranks- 
I was the sixth among such intellects.
So did we move along and toward the light, 
talking of things about which silence here 
is just as seemly as our speech was there.
We reached the base of an exalted castle, 
encircled seven times by towering walls, 
defended all around by a fair stream.
We forded this as if upon hard ground; 
I entered seven portals with these sages; 
we reached a meadow of green flowering plants.
The people here had eyes both grave and slow; 
their features carried great authority; 
they spoke infrequently, with gentle voices.
We drew aside to one part of the meadow, 
an open place both high and filled with light, 
and we could see all those who were assembled.
Facing me there, on the enameled green, 
great-hearted souls were shown to me and I 
still glory in my having witnessed them.
I saw Electra with her many comrades, 
among whom I knew Hector and Aeneas, 
and Caesar, in his armor, falcon-eyed.
I saw Camilla and Penthesilea 
and, on the other side, saw King Latinus, 
who sat beside Lavinia, his daughter.
I saw that Brutus who drove Tarquin out, 
Lucretia, Julia, Marcia, and Cornelia, 
and, solitary, set apart, Saladin.
When I had raised my eyes a little higher, 
I saw the master of the men who know 
seated in philosophic family.
There all look up to him, all do him honor: 
there I beheld both Socrates and Plato, 
closest to him, in front of all the rest;
Democritus, who ascribes the world to chance, 
Diogenes, Empedocles, and Zeno, 
and Thales, Anaxagoras, Heraclitus;
I saw the good collector of medicinals, 
I mean Dioscorides; and I saw Orpheus, 
and Tully, Linus, moral Seneca;
and Euclid the geometer, and Ptolemy, 
Hippocrates and Galen, Avicenna, 
Averroes, of the great Commentary.
I cannot here describe them all in full; 
my ample theme impels me onward so: 
what’s told is often less than the event.