Canto 15

Now one of the hard margins bears us on, and the fume of the brook overshadows so that it saves the water and the banks from the fire. As the Flemings, between Wissant and Bruges, fearing the flood that is blown in upon them, make the dyke whereby the sea is routed; and as the Paduans along the Brenta, in order to defend their towns and castles, ere Chiarentana⁵¹ feel the heat,—in such like were these made, though neither so high nor so thick had the master, whoever he was, made them.

Now we walk along one of the hard banks. The mist from the brook hangs over it, shielding the water and banks from the fire. Between Wissant and Bruges, the Flemings fear the floodwaters driven toward them and build a dike to hold back the sea. The Paduans build dikes along the Brenta to defend their towns and castles before Chiarentana⁵¹ feels the heat. These banks were built in the same way, though whoever built them made them neither as high nor as thick.

We were now so remote from the wood that I could not have seen where it was though I had turned me round to look, when we encountered a troop of souls which was coming along by the bank, and each of them was looking at us, as at eve one is wont to look at another under the new moon, and they so sharpened their brows toward us as the old tailor does on the needle’s eye.

We were now so far from the wood that I could not have seen where it was, even if I had turned around. Then we met a group of souls coming along the bank. Each soul looked at us as people look at one another in the evening under a new moon. They squinted at us like an old tailor peering at the eye of a needle.

Thus gazed at by that company, I was recognized by one who took me by the hem, and cried out, “What a marvel!” And when he stretched out his arm to me, I fixed my eyes on his baked aspect so that his scorched visage prevented not my mind from recognizing him; and bending down my own to his face, I answered, “Are you here, Sir Brunetto?”⁵² And he, “O my son, let it not displease thee if Brunetto Latini turn a little back with thee, and let the train go on.” I said to him, “With all my power I pray this of you, and if you will that I seat myself with you I will do so, if it pleaseth this one, for I go with him.” “O son,” said he, “whoever of this herd stops for an instant lies then a hundred years without fanning himself when the fire smites him; therefore go onward, I will come at thy skirts, and then I will rejoin my band which goeth weeping its eternal sufferings.”

As the group stared at me, one of them recognized me. He caught me by the hem and cried, “What a marvel!” When he stretched out his arm toward me, I looked closely at his burned face. Despite the burns, I recognized him. I bent down toward his face and answered, “Are you here, Sir Brunetto?”⁵² He said, “O my son, I hope you will not mind if Brunetto Latini turns back and walks with you a little way, while the others go on.” I said to him, “I beg you with all my heart to do so. If you want me to sit with you, I will, if it pleases my companion, since I am following him.” “O son,” he said, “anyone in this herd who stops for an instant must then lie still for a hundred years, unable to fan himself when the fire strikes him. So go on. I will walk beside you, and then I will rejoin my band, who go on weeping through their eternal suffering.”

I dared not descend from the road to go level with him, but I held my head bowed like one who goes reverently. He began, “What fortune, or destiny, ere the last day, brings thee down here? and who is this that shows the road?”

I did not dare leave the road to walk beside him, but I bowed my head as a sign of respect. He asked, “What chance or fate brings you down here before your last day? And who is this showing you the way?”

“There above, in the clear life,” I answered him, “I lost myself in a valley, before my time was full. Only yester morn I turned my back on it; this one⁵³ appeared to me as I was returning to it, and he is leading me homeward along this path.”

“Up there, in the world of the living,” I answered him, “I lost my way in a valley before my time was up. Only yesterday morning, I turned away from the valley. This man⁵³ appeared to me as I was returning to it. He is leading me home along this path.”

And he to me: “If thou follow thy star, thou canst not miss the glorious port, if, in the beautiful life, I discerned aright. And if I had not so untimely died, seeing heaven so benignant unto thee I would have given cheer unto thy work. But that ungrateful populace malign which descended from Fiesole of old,⁵⁴ and smacks yet of the mountain and the rock, will hate thee because of thy good deeds; and this is right, for among the bitter sorb trees it is not fitting the sweet fig should bear fruit. Old report in the world calls them blind; it is a people avaricious, envious, and proud; from their customs take heed that thou keep thyself clean. Thy fortune reserves such honor for thee that one party and the other shall hunger for thee; but far from the goat shall be the grass. Let the Fiesolan beasts make litter of themselves, and touch not the plant, if any spring still upon their dungheap, in which may live again the holy seed of those Romans who remained there when it became the nest of so much malice.”

And he said to me: “If you follow your star, you cannot miss the glorious harbor, if I judged rightly during my life. And if I had not died so soon, I would have encouraged your work, seeing how favorable heaven is to you. But that wicked, ungrateful people, who descended long ago from Fiesole,⁵⁴ still have the roughness of the mountains and rocks. They will hate you because of your good deeds. And this is fitting, for a sweet fig should not bear fruit among bitter sorb trees. People have long called them blind. They are greedy, envious, and proud, so take care to keep yourself free of their ways. “Your fate holds such honor for you that both parties will hunger for you. But the grass will be far from the goat. Let the beasts of Fiesole make bedding of themselves, but let them not touch the plant, if any still grows on their dungheap. In that plant, the holy seed may live again. It is the seed of those Romans who remained there when the place became a nest of such malice.”

“If all my entreaty were fulfilled,” replied I to him, “you would not yet be placed in banishment from human nature; for in my mind is fixed, and now fills my heart, the dear, good, paternal image of you, when in the world hour by hour you taught me how man makes himself eternal and in what gratitude I hold it, so long as I live, it behoves that on my tongue should be discerned. That which you tell me of my course I write, and reserve it to be glossed with other text,⁵⁵ by a Lady, who will know how, if I attain to her. Thus much would I have manifest to you: if only that my conscience chide me not, for Fortune, as she will, I am ready. Such earnest is not strange unto my ears; therefore let Fortune turn her wheel as pleases her, and the churl his mattock.”⁵⁶

“If all my prayers had been answered,” I replied, “you would not yet have been banished from human life. For your dear, kind, fatherly image remains fixed in my mind and now fills my heart. When you were in the world, you taught me, hour by hour, how a person makes himself eternal. As long as I live, my words must show how grateful I am for your teaching. I will remember what you tell me about my path. I will save it to be explained alongside another message⁵⁵ by a Lady who will know how, if I reach her. I want to make this clear to you: as long as my conscience does not reproach me, I am ready for whatever Fortune wills. Such a warning is not new to me. So let Fortune turn her wheel as she pleases, and let the laborer swing his mattock.”⁵⁶

My Master then upon his right side turned himself back, and looked at me; then said, “He listens well who notes it.”

My Master then turned back to his right and looked at me. He said, “Anyone who takes note of it is listening well.”

Not the less for this do I go on speaking with Sir Brunetto, and I ask, who are his most known and most eminent companions. And he to me, “To know of some is good, of the others silence will be laudable for us, for the time would be short for so much speech. In brief, know that all were clerks, and great men of letters, and of great fame, defiled in the world with one same sin. Priscian goes along with that disconsolate crowd, and Francesco of Accorso;⁵⁷ and thou mightest also have seen, hadst thou had desire of such scurf, him who by the Servant of Servants was translated from Arno to Bacchiglione, where he left his ill-strained nerves.⁵⁸ Of more would I tell, but the going on and the speech cannot be longer, for I see yonder a new cloud rising from the sand. Folk come with whom I must not be. Let my Tesoro be commended to thee, in which I still am living, and more I ask not.”

Even so, I keep speaking with Sir Brunetto. I ask him who his best-known and most distinguished companions are. He replies, “It is good to know about some, but we would do well to keep silent about the others. There is too little time to speak of them all. In short, know that all were clerks and great men of letters and fame, stained in the world by the same sin. Priscian goes with that miserable crowd, as does Francesco of Accorso;⁵⁷ and, if you had wanted to see such filth, you might also have seen the man whom the Servant of Servants transferred from Arno to Bacchiglione. There he left his ill-strained nerves.⁵⁸ I would tell you more, but we can go on together and talk no longer. I see a new cloud rising from the sand over there. People are coming with whom I must not be. Please remember my Tesoro, in which I still live. I ask no more.”

Then he turned back, and seemed of those who run at Verona for the green cloth⁵⁹ across the plain, and of these he seemed the one that wins, and not he that loses.

Then he turned back. He looked like one of the runners racing across the plain at Verona for the green cloth⁵⁹. He seemed like the winner, not the loser.