Inferno: Canto XV

Now on a margin firm we travel o'er,
And the stream's vapour so the heat doth slake,
It saves from fire the water and the shore.

E'en as 'twixt Bruges and Guizzant' Flemings make.
Fearing the flood that on their sea-beach rose,
A bank whereon the ocean's strength may break;

Such as the Paduans, where the Brenta flows.
Construct, their towns and castles to protect,
Ere Chiarentana with the warm spring glows.

E'en such in form did he this bank erect,
Though not like these in width, nor yet in height,
Whatever it be, the Master-Architect.

Already was the forest out of sight;
So far from it our footsteps now were set.
That even had I turned, 'twere vanished quite,"

When soon a troop of wandering souls we met,
Who by the bank's side moved, and every one
Looked at us as men look at eve when yet

The young moon's crescent in the heaven is shown.
And so upon us they their eyebrows bent
As tailor old at needle's eye doth frown.

By such a tribe espied, with glance intent
I was by one identified, who took
My mantle's hem and cried, " What wonderment!"

And I, when he his arm towards me shook,
From bringing him to recognition clear,
I was not hindered by his scorched look,

But thought my mind a knowledge gained full clear,
And bending down my hand toward his face,
I asked, "What, Set Brunetto, art thou here?"

And he: " My son, ah, think it no disgrace,
If I, Brunetto, with thee backward stray,
And, for a moment, quit the rabble base."

I answered, " This with all my power I pray;
And if thou wilt that I should sit with thee,
I will, if he please, for I go his way."

"My son," he said, " who in this company
A moment stops, lies there a hundred year,
No screen against the smiting fire has he;

Wherefore go on; thy skirts I'll follow near,
And then will I rejoin my comrades' host,
Who wail their endless doom with ceaseless tear."

I dared not leave the pathway of that coast
To be beside him, but I bowed my head,
As one whose mind in reverent thought is lost,

And he began, " What fate or fortune dread
Before the last day brings thee here below?
And who is this by whom thy steps are led?

"Up there above, where life serene we know,"
I said, " I in a valley lost did stray,
Ere that my age its fulness ripe did show.

But yestermorn I bent my steps away.
And, as I turned me, he appeared to me.
And leads me homeward by this weary way."

And he to me: " If thy star guideth thee,
Thou canst not fail a glorious port to gain,
If in yon fairer life I truth did see;

And but that I by death too soon was ta'en.
Beholding Heaven towards thee so benign,
I for thy work had strengthened thee again:

But that ungrateful people and malign,
Which came in ancient days from Fiesole,
And of its rock and millstone still shows sign,

Will for thy good deeds be thine enemy;
And reason good; for 'mid the sour crab's kind
It is not meet the sweet fig's fruit to see.

On earth an ancient saying calls them blind,
A people envious, avaricious, proud;
Take heed that of their ways thou cleanse thy mind.

Thy fortune hath on thee this boon bestowed,
That either faction shall thy help desire,
But 'twixt the goat and grass shall be long road.

There let the beasts of Fiesole their byre
Make for themselves, nor touch the nobler grain,
If any grow upon their dunghill's mire,

In which the holy seed revives again
Of those old Romans, who, when it was made
The nest of evil, still did there remain."

"Had that been fully given me which I prayed;"
I answered him, " thou had'st not here as yet
An outlaw from our nature's lot been laid,

For in my mind and heart there still is set
That face of thine, kind, tender, fatherly,
When thou didst hourly teach me as we met

How man attaineth to eternity,
And how for that I thank thee, it is right.
While yet I live, my speech should witness be.

What of my course thou tellest me I write.
And keep it, with another text to spell.
For Her, who'll, if I reach her, read aright.

This only would I thee full clearly tell.
So long as conscience makes me not afraid,
I wait my fortune, work it ill or well.

Not strange unto mine ears such pledge is made;
Therefore let Fortune turn her wheel at will,
And as he wills, the peasant churl his spade."

My Master thereupon turned round until
O'er his right cheek he glanced, and looked at me,
And said, " He listeneth well who noteth still."

Not therefore speaking less, in company
I go with Ser Brunetto, and ask who they
His comrades were, best known, of chief degree.

And he: " Of some 'tis good to know; well may
On other names a prudent silence fall:
For the full tale would take a longer day.

Know then, in brief, that these were great clerks all,
Great men of letters they and of great fame,
Sunk, while on earth, in that sin's shameful thrall.

Priscian goes there with all his troop of shame,
Francesco of Accorso too, and there,
If thou art fain such scurf to know and name,

Thou see'st him whom the Servants' Servant's care
From Arno to Bacchiglione moved,
Where he has left the members sin did wear.

More would I tell, but longer unreproved"'
Nor speech nor walk may be; for now I see
New smoke from out the sand rise, upward moved;

A crowd comes on with whom I must not be;
Only to thee my 'Treasure 'I commend,
There I still live; no more I ask of thee."

Then turned he, and like those his way did wend
Who at Verona for the mantle green
Scour through the plain, — like him who at the end

As winner, not as loser, there is seen.