If Luni thou regard, and Urbisaglia, How they have passed away, and how are passing Chiusi and Sinigaglia after them, To hear how races waste themselves away, Will seem to thee no novel thing nor hard, Seeing that even cities have an end.
All things of yours have their mortality, Even as yourselves; but it is hidden in some That a long while endure, and lives are short;
And as the turning of the lunar heaven Covers and bares the shores without a pause, In the like manner fortune does with Florence.
Therefore should not appear a marvellous thing What I shall say of the great Florentines Of whom the fame is hidden in the Past.
I saw the Ughi, saw the Catellini, Filippi, Greci, Ormanni, and Alberichi, Even in their fall illustrious citizens;
And saw, as mighty as they ancient were, With him of La Sannella him of Arca, And Soldanier, Ardinghi, and Bostichi.
Near to the gate that is at present laden With a new felony of so much weight That soon it shall be jetsam from the bark, The Ravignani were, from whom descended The County Guido, and whoe'er the name Of the great Bellincione since hath taken.
He of La Pressa knew the art of ruling Already, and already Galigajo Had hilt and pommel gilded in his house.
Mighty already was the Column Vair, Sacchetti, Giuochi, Fifant, and Barucci, And Galli, and they who for the bushel blush.
The stock from which were the Calfucci born Was great already, and already chosen To curule chairs the Sizii and Arrigucci.
O how beheld I those who are undone By their own pride! and how the Balls of Gold Florence enflowered in all their mighty deeds!
So likewise did the ancestors of those Who evermore, when vacant is your church, Fatten by staying in consistory.
The insolent race, that like a dragon follows Whoever flees, and unto him that shows His teeth or purse is gentle as a lamb, Already rising was, but from low people;
So that it pleased not Ubertin Donato That his wife's father should make him their kin.
Already had Caponsacco to the Market From Fesole descended, and already Giuda and Infangato were good burghers.
I'll tell a thing incredible, but true;
One entered the small circuit by a gate Which from the Della Pera took its name!
Each one that bears the beautiful escutcheon Of the great baron whose renown and name The festival of Thomas keepeth fresh, Knighthood and privilege from him received;
Though with the populace unites himself To-day the man who binds it with a border.
Already were Gualterotti and Importuni;
And still more quiet would the Borgo be If with new neighbours it remained unfed.
The house from which is born your lamentation, Through just disdain that death among you brought And put an end unto your joyous life, Was honoured in itself and its companions.
O Buondelmonte, how in evil hour Thou fled'st the bridal at another's promptings!
Many would be rejoicing who are sad, If God had thee surrendered to the Ema The first time that thou camest to the city.
But it behoved the mutilated stone Which guards the bridge, that Florence should provide A victim in her latest hour of peace.
With all these families, and others with them, Florence beheld I in so great repose, That no occasion had she whence to weep;
With all these families beheld so just And glorious her people, that the lily Never upon the spear was placed reversed, Nor by division was vermilion made."
