If here below, where sentiment is far →
too weak to withstand error, I should see
men glorying in you, nobility
4 of blood—a meager thing!—I should not wonder,
for even where desire is not awry,
I mean in Heaven, I too felt such pride.
7 You are indeed a cloak that soon wears out, →
so that if, day by day, we add no patch,
then circling time will trim you with its shears. →
10 My speech began again with you, the word →
that Rome was the first city to allow, →
although her people seldom speak it now; →
13 at this word, Beatrice, somewhat apart, →
smiling, seemed like the woman who had coughed—
so goes the tale—at Guinevere’s first fault.
16 So did my speech begin: “You are my father; →
you hearten me to speak with confidence;
you raise me so that I am more than I.
19 So many streams have filled my mind with gladness—
so many, and such gladness, that mind must
rejoice that it can bear this and not burst.
22 Then tell me, founder of my family,
who were your ancestors and, in your boyhood,
what were the years the records registered;
25 and tell me of the sheepfold of St. John— →
how numerous it was, who in that flock
were worthy of the highest offices.”
28 As at the breathing of the winds, a coal →
will quicken into flame, so I saw that
light glow at words that were affectionate;
31 and as, before my eyes, it grew more fair,
so, with a voice more gentle and more sweet—
not in our modern speech—it said to me: →
34 “Down from that day when Ave was pronounced, →
until my mother (blessed now), by giving
birth, eased the burden borne in bearing me,
37 this fire of Mars had come five-hundred-fifty
and thirty more times to its Lion—there
to be rekindled underneath its paw.
40 My ancestors and I were born just where →
the runner in your yearly games first comes
upon the boundary of the final ward.
43 That is enough concerning my forebears:
what were their names, from where they came—of that,
silence, not speech, is more appropriate.
46 All those who, at that time, between the Baptist →
and Mars, were capable of bearing arms,
numbered one fifth of those who live there now.
49 But then the citizens, now mixed with Campi, →
with the Certaldo, and with the Figline,
were pure down to the humblest artisan.
52 Oh, it would be far better if you had
those whom I mention as your neighbors (and
your boundaries at Galuzzo and Trespiano), →
55 than to have them within, to bear the stench
of Aguglione’s wretch and Signa’s wretch, →
whose sharp eyes now on barratry are set.
58 If those who, in the world, go most astray →
had not seen Caesar with stepmothers’ eyes,
but, like a mother to her son, been kind,
61 then one who has become a Florentine
trader and money changer would have stayed
in Semifonte, where his fathers peddled, →
64 the Counts would still be lords of Montemurlo,
the Cerchi would be in Acone’s parish,
perhaps the Buondelmonti in Valdigreve.
67 The mingling of the populations led
to evil in the city, even as
food piled on food destroys the body’s health;
70 the blind bull falls more quickly, more headlong, →
than does the blind lamb; and the one blade can
often cut more and better than five swords.
73 Consider Luni, Urbisaglia, how →
they went to ruin (Sinigaglia follows,
and Chiusi, too, will soon have vanished); then,
76 if you should hear of families undone,
you will find nothing strange or difficult
in that—since even cities meet their end.
79 All things that you possess, possess their death,
just as you do; but in some things that last
long, death can hide from you whose lives are short.
82 And even as the heaven of the moon, →
revolving, respiteless, conceals and then
reveals the shores, so Fortune does with Florence;
85 therefore, there is no cause for wonder in
what I shall tell of noble Florentines,
of those whose reputations time has hidden.
88 I saw the Ughi, saw the Catellini, →
Filippi, Greci, Ormanni, Alberichi,
famed citizens already in decline,
91 and saw, as great as they were venerable,
dell’Arca with della Sannella, and
Ardinghi, Soldanieri, and Bostichi.
94 Nearby the gate that now is burdened with →
new treachery that weighs so heavily
that it will bring the vessel to shipwreck,
97 there were the Ravignani, from whose line
Count Guido comes and all who—since—derive
their name from the illustrious Bellincione.
100 And della Pressa knew already how →
to rule; and Galigaio, in his house,
already had the gilded hilt and pommel.
103 The stripe of Vair had mightiness already, →
as did the Giuochi, Galli, and Barucci,
Fifanti, and Sacchetti, and those who →
106 blush for the bushel; and the stock from which
spring the Calfucci was already mighty,
and Sizzi and Arrigucci were already
109 raised to high office. Oh, how great were those →
I saw—whom pride laid low! And the gold balls,
in all of her great actions, flowered Florence.
112 Such were the ancestors of those who now, →
whenever bishops’ sees are vacant, grow
fat as they sit in church consistories.
115 The breed—so arrogant and dragonlike →
in chasing him who flees, but lamblike, meek
to him who shows his teeth or else his purse—
118 was on the rise already, but of stock
so mean that Ubertin Donato, when
his father-in-law made him kin to them,
121 was scarcely pleased. Already Caponsacco →
had come from Fiesole down to the market;
already citizens of note were Giuda
124 and Infangato. I shall tell a thing
incredible and true: the gateway through →
the inner walls was named for the della Pera.
127 All those whose arms bear part of the fair ensign →
of the great baron—he whose memory
and worth are honored on the feast of Thomas—
130 received knighthood and privilege from him,
though he whose coat of arms has fringed that ensign
has taken sides now with the populace.
133 The Gualterotti and the Importuni →
were there already; were the Borgo spared
new neighbors, it would still be tranquil there.
136 The house of Amidei, with which your sorrows
began—by reason of its just resentment,
which ruined you and ended years of gladness—
139 was honored then, as were its close companions.
O Buondelmonte, through another’s counsel, →
you fled your wedding pledge, and brought such evil!
142 Many would now rejoice, who still lament,
if when you first approached the city, God
had given you unto the river Ema!
145 But Florence, in her final peace, was fated →
to offer up—unto that mutilated
stone guardian upon her bridge—a victim.
148 These were the families, and others with them:
the Florence that I saw—in such repose
that there was nothing to have caused her sorrow.