And one began: “Each one has confidence In thy good offices without an oath, Unless the I cannot cut off the I will; Whence I, who speak alone before the others, Pray thee, if ever thou dost see the land That ’twixt Romagna lies and that of Charles, Thou be so courteous to me of thy prayers In Fano, that they pray for me devoutly, That I may purge away my grave offences. From thence was I; but the deep wounds, through which Issued the blood wherein I had my seat, Were dealt me in bosom of the Antenori, There where I thought to be the most secure; ’Twas he of Este had it done, who held me In hatred far beyond what justice willed. But if towards the Mira I had fled, When I was overtaken at Oriaco, I still should be o’er yonder where men breathe. I ran to the lagoon, and reeds and mire Did so entangle me I fell, and saw there A lake made from my veins upon the ground.” Then said another: “Ah, be that desire Fulfilled that draws thee to the lofty mountain, As thou with pious pity aidest mine. I was of Montefeltro, and am Buonconte; Giovanna, nor none other cares for me; Hence among these I go with downcast front.” And I to him: “What violence or what chance Led thee astray so far from Campaldino, That never has thy sepulture been known?” “Oh,” he replied, “at Casentino’s foot A river crosses named Archiano, born Above the Hermitage in Apennine. There where the name thereof becometh void Did I arrive, pierced through and through the throat, Fleeing on foot, and bloodying the plain; There my sight lost I, and my utterance Ceased in the name of Mary, and thereat I fell, and tenantless my flesh remained. Truth will I speak, repeat it to the living; God’s Angel took me up, and he of hell Shouted: ‘O thou from heaven, why dost thou rob me? Thou bearest away the eternal part of him, For one poor little tear, that takes him from me; But with the rest I’ll deal in other fashion!’ Well knowest thou how in the air is gathered That humid vapour which to water turns, Soon as it rises where the cold doth grasp it. He joined that evil will, which aye seeks evil, To intellect, and moved the mist and wind By means of power, which his own nature gave; Thereafter, when the day was spent, the valley From Pratomagno to the great yoke covered With fog, and made the heaven above intent, So that the pregnant air to water changed; Down fell the rain, and to the gullies came Whate’er of it earth tolerated not; And as it mingled with the mighty torrents, Towards the royal river with such speed It headlong rushed, that nothing held it back. My frozen body near unto its outlet The robust Archian found, and into Arno Thrust it, and loosened from my breast the cross