As more than Beatrice and Margaret
Costanza still boasts of her valorous spouse. 
     “Behold the king of simple life and plain,
Harry of England, sitting there alone: 
He through his branches better issue spreads. 
     “That one, who on the ground beneath the rest
Sits lowest, yet his gaze directs aloft,
Us William, that brave Marquis, for whose cause
The deed of Alexandria and his war
Makes Conferrat and Canavese weep.”

CANTO VIII

Now was the hour that wakens fond desire
In men at sea, and melts their thoughtful heart,
Who in the morn have bid sweet friends farewell,
And pilgrim newly on his road with love
Thrills, if he hear the vesper bell from far,
That seems to mourn for the expiring day: 
When I, no longer taking heed to hear
Began, with wonder, from those spirits to mark
One risen from its seat, which with its hand
Audience implor’d.  Both palms it join’d and rais’d,
Fixing its steadfast gaze towards the east,
As telling God, “I care for naught beside.” 
     “Te Lucis Ante,” so devoutly then
Came from its lip, and in so soft a strain,
That all my sense in ravishment was lost. 
And the rest after, softly and devout,
Follow’d through all the hymn, with upward gaze
Directed to the bright supernal wheels. 
     Here, reader! for the truth makes thine eyes keen: 
For of so subtle texture is this veil,
That thou with ease mayst pass it through unmark’d. 
     I saw that gentle band silently next
Look up, as if in expectation held,
Pale and in lowly guise; and from on high
I saw forth issuing descend beneath
Two angels with two flame-illumin’d swords,
Broken and mutilated at their points. 
Green as the tender leaves but newly born,
Their vesture was, the which by wings as green
Beaten, they drew behind them, fann’d in air. 
A little over us one took his stand,
The other lighted on the’ Opposing hill,
So that the troop were in the midst contain’d. 
     Well I descried the whiteness on their heads;
But in their visages the dazzled eye
Was lost, as faculty that by too much
Is overpower’d.  “From Mary’s bosom both
Are come,” exclaim’d Sordello, “as a guard
Over the vale, ganst him, who hither tends,
The serpent.”  Whence, not knowing by which path
He came, I turn’d me round, and closely press’d,
All frozen, to my leader’s trusted side. 
     Sordello paus’d not:  “To the valley now
(For it is time) let us descend; and hold
Converse with those great shadows:  haply much
Their sight may please ye.”  Only three steps down
Methinks I measur’d, ere I was beneath,
And noted one who look’d as with desire
To know me.  Time was now that air arrow dim;
Yet not so dim, that ’twixt his eyes and mine
It clear’d not up what was conceal’d before. 
Mutually tow’rds each other we advanc’d.