“Who is this one that goes about our mountain, 781 Or ever Death has given him power of flight, And opes his eyes and shuts them at his will?” “I know not who, but know he’s not alone; Ask him thyself, for thou art nearer to him, And gently, so that he may speak, accost him.” Thus did two spirits, leaning tow’rds each other, 782 Discourse about me there on the right hand; Then held supine their faces to address me. And said the one: “O soul, that, fastened still Within the body, tow’rds the heaven art going, For charity console us, and declare Whence comest and who art thou; for thou mak’st us As much to marvel at this grace of thine As must a thing that never yet has been.” And I: “Through midst of Tuscany there wanders A streamlet that is born in Falterona, 783 And not a hundred miles of course suffice it; From thereupon do I this body bring. To tell you who I am were speech in vain, Because my name as yet makes no great noise.”