Buonagiunta da Lucca—Pope Martin IV , and others.
Nor speech the going, nor the going that Slackened; but talking we went bravely on, Even as a vessel urged by a good wind. And shadows, that appeared things doubly dead, From out the sepulchres of their eyes betrayed Wonder at me, aware that I was living. And I, continuing my colloquy, Said: “Peradventure he goes up more slowly Than he would do, for other people’s sake. But tell me, if thou knowest, where is Piccarda; Tell me if anyone of note I see Among this folk that gazes at me so.” “My sister, who, ’twixt beautiful and good, I know not which was more, triumphs rejoicing Already in her crown on high Olympus.” So said he first, and then: “ ’Tis not forbidden To name each other here, so milked away Is our resemblance by our dieting. This,” pointing with his finger, “is Buonagiunta, Buonagiunta, of Lucca; and that face Beyond him there, more peaked than the others, Has held the holy Church within his arms; From Tours was he, and purges by his fasting Bolsena’s eels and the Vernaccia wine.” He named me many others one by one; And all contented seemed at being named, So that for this I saw not one dark look. I saw for hunger bite the empty air Ubaldin dalla Pila, and Boniface, Who with his crook had pastured many people. I saw Messer Marchese, who had leisure Once at Forli for drinking with less dryness, And he was one who ne’er felt satisfied. But as he does who scans, and then doth prize One more than others, did I him of Lucca, Who seemed to take most cognizance of me. He murmured, and I know not what Gentucca From that place heard I, where he felt the wound Of justice, that doth macerate them so. “O soul,” I said, “that seemest so desirous To speak with me, do so that I may hear thee, And with thy speech appease thyself and me.” “A maid is born, and wears not yet the veil,” Began he, “who to thee shall pleasant make My city, howsoever men may