Well knew he what the mute one wished to say, And therefore waited not for my demand, But said: "Speak, and be brief, and to the point."
I had Virgilius upon that side Of the embankment from which one may fall, Since by no border 'tis engarlanded;
Upon the other side of me I had The shades devout, who through the horrible seam Pressed out the tears so that they bathed their cheeks.
To them I turned me, and, "O people, certain,"
Began I, "of beholding the high light, Which your desire has solely in its care, So may grace speedily dissolve the scum Upon your consciences, that limpidly Through them descend the river of the mind, Tell me, for dear 'twill be to me and gracious, If any soul among you here is Latian, And 'twill perchance be good for him I learn it."
"O brother mine, each one is citizen Of one true city; but thy meaning is, Who may have lived in Italy a pilgrim."
By way of answer this I seemed to hear A little farther on than where I stood, Whereat I made myself still nearer heard.
Among the rest I saw a shade that waited In aspect, and should any one ask how, Its chin it lifted upward like a blind man.
"Spirit," I said, "who stoopest to ascend, If thou art he who did reply to me, Make thyself known to me by place or name."
"Sienese was I," it replied, "and with The others here recleanse my guilty life, Weeping to Him to lend himself to us.
Sapient I was not, although I Sapia Was called, and I was at another's harm More happy far than at my own good fortune.
And that thou mayst not think that I deceive thee, Hear if I was as foolish as I tell thee.
The arc already of my years descending, My fellow-citizens near unto Colle Were joined in battle with their adversaries, And I was praying God for what he willed.
Routed were they, and turned into the bitter Passes of flight; and I, the chase beholding, A joy received unequalled by all others;
So that I lifted upward my bold face Crying to God, 'Henceforth I fear thee not,'
As did the blackbird at the little sunshine.
Peace I desired with God at the extreme Of my existence, and as yet would not My debt have been by penitence discharged, Had it not been that in remembrance held me Pier Pettignano in his holy prayers, Who out of charity was grieved for me.
But who art thou, that into our conditions Questioning goest, and hast thine eyes unbound As I believe, and breathing dost discourse?"
"Mine eyes," I said, "will yet be here ta'en from me, But for short space; for small is the offence Committed by their being turned with envy.
Far greater is the fear, wherein suspended My soul is, of the torment underneath, For even now the load down there weighs on me."
And she to me: "Who led thee, then, among us Up here, if to return below thou thinkest?"
And I: "He who is with me, and speaks not;
And living am I; therefore ask of me, Spirit elect, if thou wouldst have me move O'er yonder yet my mortal feet for thee."
"O, this is such a novel thing to hear,"
She answered, "that great sign it is God loves thee;
Therefore with prayer of thine sometimes assist me.
And I implore, by what thou most desirest, If e'er thou treadest the soil of Tuscany, Well with my kindred reinstate my fame.
Them wilt thou see among that people vain Who hope in Talamone, and will lose there More hope than in discovering the Diana;
But there still more the admirals will lose."
