Canto XI

perchance Is born, who from the nest shall chase them both. Naught is this mundane rumor but a breath Of wind, that comes now this way and now that, And changes name, because it changes side. What fame shalt thou have more, if old peel off From thee thy flesh, than if thou hadst been dead Before thou left the pappo and the dindi , Ere pass a thousand years? which is a shorter Space to the eterne, than twinkling of an eye Unto the circle that in heaven wheels slowest. With him, who takes so little of the road In front of me, all Tuscany resounded; And now he scarce is lisped of in Siena, Where he was lord, what time was overthrown The Florentine delirium, that superb Was at that day as now ’tis prostitute. Your reputation is the color of grass Which comes and goes, and that discolors it By which it issues green from out the earth.” And I: “Thy true speech fills my heart with good Humility, and great tumor thou assuagest; But who is he, of whom just now thou spakest?” “That,” he replied, “is Provenzan Salvani, And he is here because he had presumed To bring Siena all into his hands. He has gone thus, and goeth without rest E’er since he died; such money renders back In payment he who is on earth too daring.” And I: “If every spirit who awaits The verge of life before that he repent, Remains below there and ascends not hither, (Unless good orison shall him bestead,) Until as much time as he lived be passed, How was the coming granted him in largess?” “When he in greatest splendor lived,” said he, “Freely upon the Campo of Siena, All shame being laid aside, he placed himself; And there to draw his friend from the duress Which in the prison-house of Charles he suffered, He brought himself to tremble in each vein. I say no more, and know that I speak darkly; Yet little time shall pass before thy neighbors Will so demean themselves that thou canst gloss it. This action has released him from those confines.”