"To the right hand, along the bank, 'tis best You come with us. This way to living tread The pass is possible that you request: And were I not impeded by the stone Which my proud neck so masters with its weight, That I perforce must hold my visage down, This man who liveth, and who doth not state What name he bears, I would look up to see If I do know, and make compassionate His heart for this huge load that bendeth me. William Aldobrandeschi was the name Of a great Tuscan; I was born his son, Of Latin race: whether his title came To your ears ever, knowledge have I none. Mine ancestors, their ancient blood, and what They wrought by prowess, rendered me so high In arrogance, that never taking thought About our common Mother, all men I So scorned, that as the Siennese all know, I to my death at last was brought thereby, And every child in Campagnatico Knows how I there did perish for my sin. I am Omberto, and not me alone Hath pride done damage to, but all my kin Hath it dragged hither with myself to groan, And I who living never bowed my head, Till God be satisfied, and mercy shown, Must bear this burden here among the dead." Listening I held my visage down intent, And one of them, but not the same that spoke, Writhing looked up, beneath his burden bent, And recognized, and called me; still his look With strained eyes fixing upon me who went All bowed beside them. "O!" exclaimed I then, "Art thou not Oderisi, Gubbio's pride, And honor also of that art which men In Paris name _illuming_?" He replied: ODERISI.