Not otherwise stupefied, the mountaineer is confused, and gazing round is dumb, when rough and savage he enters the town, than each shade became in his appearance; but, after they were unburdened of their bewilderment, which in high hearts is quickly assuaged, “Blessed thou,” began again that one who first had asked me, “who of our regions dost ship experience for dying better. The people who do not come with us offended in that for which once Caesar in his triumph heard ‘Queen’ cried out against him; therefore they go off shouting ‘Sodom,’ reproving themselves as thou hast heard, and aid the burning by their shame. Our sin was hermaphrodite; but because we observed not human law, following our appetite like beasts, when we part from them, the name of her who bestialized herself in the beast-shaped planks is uttered by us, in opprobrium of ourselves. Now thou knowest our deeds, and of what we were guilty; if, perchance, thou wishest to know by name who we are, there is not time to tell, and I could not do it. I will indeed make thee short of wish about myself; I am Guido Guinicelli;[1] and now I purify myself, because I truly repented before my last hour.” [1] Of Bologna; he was living after the middle of the thirteenth century. Of his life little is known, but some of his verses survive and justify Dante’s words concerning them. Such as in the sorrow of Lycurgus her two sons became at seeing again their mother,[1] such I became, but I rise not so far,[2] when I heard name himself the father of me, and of my betters who ever used sweet and gracious rhymes of love; and without hearing or speaking, full of thought I went on, gazing a long time upon him; nor, for the fire, did I draw nearer to him. After I was fed with looking, I offered myself wholly ready for his service, with the affirmation that makes another believe. And he to me, “By what I hear thou leavest such trace in me, and so bright, that Lethe cannot take it away nor make it dim. But if thy words have now sworn truth, tell me what is time cause why in speech and look thou showest that thou dost hold me dear?” And I to him, “The sweet ditties of yours, which, so long as the modern fashion shall endure, will still make dear their ink.” “O brother,” said he, “this one whom I distinguish for thee with my finger,” and he pointed to a spirit in advance,[3] “was a better smith of the maternal speech. In verses of love, and prose of romances, he excelled all, and let the foolish talk who think that he of Limoges[4] surpasses him; to rumor more than to truth they turn their faces, and thus confirm their own opinion, before art or reason is listened to by them. Thus did many of old concerning Guittone,[5] from cry to cry only to him giving the prize, until the truth has prevailed with more persons. Now if thou hast such ample privilege that it he permitted thee to go unto the cloister in which Christ is abbot of the college, say for me to him one