XXII.
Not many days had passed after this, when it pleased the Lord of Glory, who refused not death for himself, that he who had been the begetter of such a marvel as this most noble Beatrice was seen to be, departing from this life, should go verily unto the eternal glory. Wherefore, inasmuch as such a departure is grievous to those who remain, and have been friends of him who is gone, — and there is no friendship so intimate as that of a good father with a good child, and of a good child with a good father; and this lady had been of the highest degree of goodness, and her father, as is believed by many, and is true, had been good in a high degree, — it is plain that this lady was most bitterly full of grief.
And inasmuch as, according to the custom of the above-mentioned city, ladies assemble with ladies, and men with men, in such affliction, many ladies assembled where this Beatrice was weeping piteously. Wherefore, seeing certain of them returning from her, I heard them speak of this most gentle lady, how she was lamenting. Among their words I heard how they said: “Truly, she so weeps that whoever should behold her must die of pity.” Then these ladies passed on; and I remained in such grief that some tears bathed my face, so that, often putting my hands before mine eyes, I covered it. And had it not been that I expected to hear further of her, for I was in a place where most of the ladies who came from her passed by, I should have hidden myself as soon as the tears had assailed me.
And, therefore, still tarrying in the same place, more ladies passed near me, who went along talking together, and saying: “Who of us should ever be joyful, since we have heard this lady speak so piteously?” After these, others passed, who said, as they went by: “This one who is here is weeping neither more nor less than if he had seen her as we have.” And then others said of me: “Behold, this man is become such that he seems not himself.” And thus these ladies passing by, I heard speech of her and of myself after this fashion which has been told.
Wherefore, afterwards musing, I resolved to speak words in verse, inasmuch as I had fit occasion to speak, in which I would include all that I had heard from these ladies. And since I would willingly have questioned them, had it not been for blame to me, I treated my theme as if I had questioned them, and they had replied to me. And I made two sonnets; and in the first I question, in the way in which the desire came to me to question; and in the other, I tell their answer, taking that which I heard from them as if they had said it in reply to me. And I began the first, “Ye who a semblance;” the second, “Art thou then he.”
Ye who a semblance so dejected bear,
And who with eyes cast down your trouble show,
Whence do ye come, that thus your color now
Appears like that which pity’s self doth wear?
Our gentle lady truly have ye seen,
Bathing her face with tears of loving woe?
Tell me, ye ladies; my heart tells me so,
Since I behold you going with grave mien.
And if ye come from sight of grief so great,
Be pleased to stay a little here with me,
And hide not from me what may be her state.
For in your eyes such trace of tears I see,
And ye return with such a mournful gait,
That my heart trembles, thus beholding ye.
This sonnet is divided into two parts. In the first, I call upon and ask these ladies if they come from her, saying to them that I believe it, because they return as if ennobled. In the second, I pray them to tell me of her; and the second begins here: “And if ye come.”
Art thou then he who oft discourse did hold
Of this our lady unto us alone?
Thy voice resembles his indeed in tone,
But thy form seems to us of other mould.
Ah! wherefore weep’st thou so without control,
Thou makest us to feel a pity keen?
And hast thou then, forsooth, her weeping seen,
So thou canst not conceal thy grieving soul?
Leave tears to us, and let us sadly go,
(He doeth ill who seeketh us to aid,)
For we have heard her speak in tearful woe;
And on her face such sorrow is displayed,
That who had wished to gaze upon her so,
Before her would in death be weeping laid.
This sonnet has four parts, according to the four fashions of speech of the ladies for whom I reply. And because these are sufficiently shown above, I do not concern myself to tell the purport of the parts, and therefore I only mark them. The second begins here: “Ah! wherefore weep’st thou;” the third: “Leave tears to us;” the fourth: “and on her face.”