Nino, thou courteous judge! what joy I felt,
When I perceiv’d thou wert not with the bad! 
     No salutation kind on either part
Was left unsaid.  He then inquir’d:  “How long
Since thou arrived’st at the mountain’s foot,
Over the distant waves?” —­“O!” answer’d I,
“Through the sad seats of woe this morn I came,
And still in my first life, thus journeying on,
The other strive to gain.”  Soon as they heard
My words, he and Sordello backward drew,
As suddenly amaz’d.  To Virgil one,
The other to a spirit turn’d, who near
Was seated, crying:  “Conrad! up with speed: 
Come, see what of his grace high God hath will’d.” 
Then turning round to me:  “By that rare mark
Of honour which thou ow’st to him, who hides
So deeply his first cause, it hath no ford,
When thou shalt he beyond the vast of waves. 
Tell my Giovanna, that for me she call
There, where reply to innocence is made. 
Her mother, I believe, loves me no more;
Since she has chang’d the white and wimpled folds,
Which she is doom’d once more with grief to wish. 
By her it easily may be perceiv’d,
How long in women lasts the flame of love,
If sight and touch do not relume it oft. 
For her so fair a burial will not make
The viper which calls Milan to the field,
As had been made by shrill Gallura’s bird.” 
     He spoke, and in his visage took the stamp
Of that right seal, which with due temperature
Glows in the bosom.  My insatiate eyes
Meanwhile to heav’n had travel’d, even there
Where the bright stars are slowest, as a wheel
Nearest the axle; when my guide inquir’d: 
“What there aloft, my son, has caught thy gaze?”
     I answer’d:  “The three torches, with which here
The pole is all on fire.  “He then to me: 
“The four resplendent stars, thou saw’st this morn
Are there beneath, and these ris’n in their stead.” 
     While yet he spoke.  Sordello to himself
Drew him, and cry’d:  “Lo there our enemy!”
And with his hand pointed that way to look. 
     Along the side, where barrier none arose
Around the little vale, a serpent lay,
Such haply as gave Eve the bitter food. 
Between the grass and flowers, the evil snake
Came on, reverting oft his lifted head;
And, as a beast that smoothes its polish’d coat,
Licking his hack.  I saw not, nor can tell,
How those celestial falcons from their seat
Mov’d, but in motion each one well descried,
Hearing the air cut by their verdant plumes. 
The serpent fled; and to their stations back
The angels up return’d with equal flight. 
     The Spirit (who to Nino, when he call’d,
Had come), from viewing me with fixed ken,
Through all that conflict, loosen’d not his sight. 
     “So may the lamp, which leads thee up on high,
Find, in thy destin’d lot, of wax so much,
As may suffice thee to the enamel’s height.” 
It thus began:  “If any certain news