Inflamed against me all the other minds,
And they, inflamed, did so inflame Augustus,
That my glad honors turned to dismal mournings.
My spirit, in disdainful exultation, 70
Thinking by dying to escape disdain,
Made me unjust against myself, the just.
I, by the roots unwonted of this wood,
Do swear to you that never broke I faith
Unto my lord, who was so worthy of honor; 75
And to the world if one of you return,
Let him my memory comfort, which is lying
Still prostrate from the blow that envy dealt it."
Waited awhile, and then: "Since he is silent,"
The Poet said to me, "lose not the time, 80
But speak, and question him, if more may please thee."
Whence I to him: "Do thou again inquire
Concerning what thou think'st will satisfy me;
For I can not, such pity is in my heart."
Therefore he recommenced: "So may the man 85
Do for thee freely what thy speech implores,
Spirit incarcerate, again be pleased
To tell us in what way the soul is bound
Within these knots; and tell us, if thou canst,
If any from such members e'er is freed." 90
Page:Divine Comedy (Longfellow 1867) v1.djvu/97
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Inferno XIII.
77
