The soul, borne forward on its way to the Judge, hears the song of its Guardian Angel, whose work is done. As the soul proceeds, the voices of the demons are heard; they express the pride of those who defy God. They cry out:
"Virtue and vice,
A knave's pretence,
'Tis all the same."
The soul wonders why it cannot move hand or foot, and the angel says:
"Nor hast thou now extension, with its parts
Correlative,—long habit cozens thee,—
Nor power to move thyself, nor limbs to move."
So infinitesimal has the time been since the soul left the body that the "Subvenite" is not yet finished when the soul is at the very throne of Judgment: