826 With stones a young man slaying, clamorously Still crying to each other, “Kill him! kill him!” And him I saw bow down, because of death That weighed already on him, to the earth, But of his eyes made ever gates to heaven, Imploring the high Lord, in so great strife, That he would pardon those his persecutors, With such an aspect as unlocks compassion. Soon as my soul had outwardly returned To things external to it which are true, Did I my not false errors recognize. 827 My Leader, who could see me bear myself Like to a man that rouses him from sleep, Exclaimed: “What ails thee, that thou canst not stand? But hast been coming more than half a league Veiling thine eyes, and with thy legs entangled, In guise of one whom wine or sleep subdues?” “O my sweet Father, if thou listen to me, I’ll tell thee,” said I, “what appeared to me, When thus from me my legs were ta’en away.” And he: “If thou shouldst have a hundred masks Upon thy face, from me would not be shut