For in the Sun, which lighted you and burned For reason that to you is manifest, This inequality; so give not thanks, Set in this precious jewel as a gem, That thou wilt satisfy me with thy name." "O leaf of mine, in whom I pleasure took E'en while awaiting, I was thine own root!" A son of mine and thy great-grandsire was ; Well it behoves thee that the long fatigue Thou shouldst for him make shorter with thy works. From which she taketh still her tierce and nones, No golden chain she had, nor coronal, Nor ladies shod with sandal shoon, nor girdle Into the father, for the time and dower No houses had she void of families, Not yet had thither come Sardanapalus Not yet surpassed had Montemalo been By your Uccellatojo, which surpassed With leather and with bone, and from the mirror Contented with their simple suits of buff, One o'er the cradle kept her studious watch, And in l.er lullaby the language used Told o'er among her family the tales As great a marvel then would have been held To such a quiet, such a beautiful Life of the citizen, to such a safe From Val di Pado came to me my wife, I followed afterward the Emperor Conrad, So much I pleased him with my noble deeds. I followed in his train against that law's Iniquity, whose people doth usurp Your just possession, through your Pastor's fault. There by that execrable race was I Released from bonds of the fallacious world, 123 131 73 144 243 CANTO XVI. O THOU Our poor nobility of blood, If thou dost make the people glory in thee Down here where our affection languishes, A marvellous thing it ne'er will be to me; For there where appetite is not perverted, So that unless we piece thee day by day Whence Beatrice, who stood somewhat apart, You give to me all hardihood to speak, So many rivulets with gladness fill My mind, that of itself it makes a joy Who were vour ancestors, and what the years As at the blowing of the winds a coal Quickens to flame, so I beheld that light And as unto mine eyes it grew more fair, "From uttering of the Ave, till the birth In which my mother, who is now a saint, Five hundred fifty times and thirty more, My ancestors and I our birthplace had 40 Suffice it of my elders to hear this; Where first is found the last ward of the city But who they were, and whence they thither came, All those who at that time were there between Mars and the Baptist, fit for bearing arms, Were a fifth part of those who now are living; But the community, that now is mixed With Campi and Certaldo and Figghine, O how much better 'twere to have as neighbours Than have them in the town, and bear the stench Who has sharp eyes for trickery already. 45 50 Had not the folk, which most of all the world Some who turn Florentines, and trade and discount, There where their grandsires went about as beggars. The Cerchi in the parish of Acone, Has been the source of malady in cities, If Luni thou regard, and Urbisaglia, How they have passed away, and how are passing To hear how races waste themselves away, Will seem to thee no novel thing nor hard, All things of yours have their mortality, Even as yourselves; but it is hidden in some And as the turning of the lunar heaven Covers and bares the shores without a pause, I saw the Ughi, saw the Catellini, Filippi, Greci, Ormanni, and Alberichi, Even in their fall illustrious citizens; And saw, as mighty as they ancient were, With him of La Sannella him of Arca, With a new felony of so much weight The County Guido, and whoe'er the name Already, and already Galigajo Had hilt and pommel gilded in his house. Mighty already was the Column Vair, Sacchetti, Giuochi, Fifant, and Barucci, And Galli, and they who for the bushel blush. By their own pride! and how the Balls of Gold Who evermore, when vacant is your church, So that it pleased not Ubertin Donato That his wife's father should make him their kin. Already had Caponsacco to the Market From Fesole descended, and already I'll tell a thing incredible, but true; One entered the small circuit by a gate Which from the Della Pera took its name! Each one that bears the beautiful escutcheon Of the great baron whose renown and name The festival of Thomas keepeth fresh, Knighthood and privilege from him received; Though with the populace unites himself. And still more quiet would the Borgo be The house from which is born your lamentation, Through just disdain that death among you brought Was honoured in itself and its companions. Which guards the bridge, that Florence should provi le |