Beautiful Clemence, after that thy Charles     Had me enlightened, he narrated to me     The treacheries his seed should undergo;

But said: “Be still and let the years roll round;”     So I can only say, that lamentation     Legitimate shall follow on your wrongs.

And of that holy light the life already     Had to the Sun which fills it turned again,     As to that good which for each thing sufficeth.

Ah, souls deceived, and creatures impious,     Who from such good do turn away your hearts,     Directing upon vanity your foreheads!

And now, behold, another of those splendours     Approached me, and its will to pleasure me     It signified by brightening outwardly.

The eyes of Beatrice, that fastened were     Upon me, as before, of dear assent     To my desire assurance gave to me.

“Ah, bring swift compensation to my wish,     Thou blessed spirit,” I said, “and give me proof     That what I think in thee I can reflect!”

Whereat the light, that still was new to me,     Out of its depths, whence it before was singing,     As one delighted to do good, continued:

“Within that region of the land depraved     Of Italy, that lies between Rialto     And fountain-heads of Brenta and of Piava,

Rises a hill, and mounts not very high,     Wherefrom descended formerly a torch     That made upon that region great assault.

Out of one root were born both I and it;     Cunizza was I called, and here I shine     Because the splendour of this star o’ercame me.

But gladly to myself the cause I pardon     Of my allotment, and it does not grieve me;     Which would perhaps seem strong unto your vulgar.

Of this so luculent and precious jewel,     Which of our heaven is nearest unto me,     Great fame remained; and ere it die away

This hundredth year shall yet quintupled be.     See if man ought to make him excellent,     So that another life the first may leave!

And thus thinks not the present multitude     Shut in by Adige and Tagliamento,     Nor yet for being scourged is penitent.

But soon ’twill be that Padua in the marsh     Will change the water that Vicenza bathes,     Because the folk are stubborn against duty;

And where the Sile and Cagnano join     One lordeth it, and goes with lofty head,     For catching whom e’en now the net is making.

Feltro moreover of her impious pastor     Shall weep the crime, which shall so monstrous be     That for the like none ever entered Malta.

Ample exceedingly would be the vat     That of the Ferrarese could hold the blood,     And weary who should weigh it ounce by ounce,

Of which this courteous priest shall make a gift     To show himself a partisan; and such gifts     Will to the living of the land conform.

Above us there are mirrors, Thrones you call them,     From which shines out on us God Judicant,     So that this utterance seems good to us.”

Here it was silent, and it had the semblance     Of being turned elsewhither, by the wheel     On which it entered as it was before.

The other joy, already known to me,     Became a thing transplendent in my sight,     As a fine ruby smitten by the sun.

Through joy effulgence is acquired above,     As here a smile; but down below, the shade     Outwardly darkens, as the mind is sad.

“God seeth all things, and in Him, blest spirit,     Thy sight is,” said I, “so that never will     Of his can possibly from thee be hidden;

Thy voice, then, that for ever makes the heavens     Glad, with the singing of those holy fires     Which of their six wings make themselves a cowl,

Wherefore does it not satisfy my longings?     Indeed, I would not wait thy questioning     If I in thee were as thou art in me.”

“The greatest of the valleys where the water     Expands itself,” forthwith its words began,     “That sea excepted which the earth engarlands,

Between discordant shores against the sun     Extends so far, that it meridian makes     Where it was wont before to make the horizon.

I was a dweller on that valley’s shore     ’Twixt Ebro and Magra that with journey short     Doth from the Tuscan part the Genoese.

With the same sunset and same sunrise nearly     Sit Buggia and the city whence I was,     That with its blood once made the harbour hot.

Folco that people called me unto whom     My name was known; and now with me this heaven     Imprints itself, as I did once with it;

For more the daughter of Belus never burned,     Offending both Sichaeus and Creusa,     Than I, so long as it became my locks,

Nor yet that Rodophean, who deluded     was by Demophoon, nor yet Alcides,     When Iole he in his heart had locked.

Yet here is no repenting, but we smile,     Not at the fault, which comes not back to mind,     But at the power which ordered and foresaw.

Here we behold the art that doth adorn     With such affection, and the good discover     Whereby the world above turns that below.

But that thou wholly satisfied mayst bear     Thy wishes hence which in this sphere are born,     Still farther to proceed behoveth me.

Thou fain wouldst know who is within this light     That here beside me thus is scintillating,     Even as a sunbeam in the limpid water.

Then know thou, that within there is at rest     Rahab, and being to our order joined,     With her in its supremest grade ’tis sealed.

Into this heaven, where ends the shadowy cone     Cast by your world, before all other souls     First of Christ’s triumph was she taken up.

Full meet it was to leave her in some heaven,     Even as a palm of the high victory     Which he acquired with one palm and the other,

Because she favoured the first glorious deed     Of Joshua upon the Holy Land,     That little stirs the memory of the Pope.

Thy city, which an offshoot is of him     Who first upon his Maker turned his back,     And whose ambition is so sorely wept,

Brings forth and scatters the accursed flower     Which both the sheep and lambs hath led astray     Since it has turned the shepherd to a wolf.

For this the Evangel and the mighty Doctors     Are derelict, and only the Decretals     So studied that it shows upon their margins.

On this are Pope and Cardinals intent;     Their meditations reach not Nazareth,     There where his pinions Gabriel unfolded;

But Vatican and the other parts elect     Of Rome, which have a cemetery been     Unto the soldiery that followed Peter

Shall soon be free from this adultery.”