“Ye who so strain your breasts together, tell me,” I said, “who are you”; and they bent their necks, And when to me their faces they had lifted, Their eyes, which first were only moist within, Gushed o’er the eyelids, and the frost congealed The tears between, and locked them up again. Clamp never bound together wood with wood So strongly; whereat they, like two he-goats, Butted together, so much wrath o’ercame them. And one, who had by reason of the cold Lost both his ears, still with his visage downward, Said: “Why dost thou so mirror thyself in us? If thou desire to know who these two are, 484 The valley whence Bisenzio descends Belonged to them and to their father Albert. They from one body came, and all Caïna 485 Thou shalt search through, and shalt not find a shade More worthy to be fixed in gelatine; Not he in whom were broken breast and shadow At one and the same blow by Arthur’s hand; 486 Focaccia not; not he who me encumbers