Blessed be she who bore thee in her bosom. That was an arrogant person in the world; Goodness is none, that decks his memory; So likewise here his shade is furious. How many are esteemed great kings up there, 116 Who here shall be like unto swine in mire, Leaving behind them horrible dispraises!” 117 And I: “My Master, much should I be pleased, If I could see him soused into this broth, Before we issue forth out of the lake.” And he to me: “Ere unto thee the shore Reveal itself, thou shalt be satisfied; Such a desire ’tis meet thou shouldst enjoy.” A little after that, I saw such havoc Made of him by the people of the mire, That still I praise and thank my God for it. They all were shouting, “At Philippo Argenti!” 118 And that exasperate spirit Florentine Turned round upon himself with his own teeth. We left him there, and more of him I tell not; But on mine ears there smote a lamentation,