The cruel chief was he of robbers’ brood,
Worst of the worst among a gang of knaves;
Hist! I’ll speak soft lest I be understood!
Say, have ye seen catchpolls, the famished slaves,
In act a poor man’s homestead to distrain,
Smashing down Christs, Madonnas, with their staves?
So on the first of August did that train
Dislodge me to a tomb more foul, more cold:-
“November damns and dooms each rogue to pain!” [12]
I at mine ears a trumpet had which told
Truth; and each word to them I did repeat,
Reckless, if but grief’s load from me were rolled.
They, when they saw their final hope retreat,
Gave me a diamond, pounded, no fair ring,
Deeming that I must die if I should eat.
That villain churl whose office ‘twas to bring
My food, I bade taste first; but meanwhile thought:
“Not here I find my foe Durante’s sting!”
Yet erst my mind unto high God I brought
Beseeching Him to pardon all my sin,
And spoke a Miserere sorrow-fraught.
Then when I gained some respite from that din
Of troubles, and had given my soul to God,
Contented better realms and state to win,
I saw along the path which saints have trod,
From heaven descending, glad, with glorious palm,
An angel: clear he cried, “Upon earth’s sod
Live longer thou! Through Him who heard thy psalm,
Those foes shall perish, each and all, in strife,
While thou remainest happy, free, and calm,
Blessed by our Sire in heaven on earth for life!”