Many would be rejoicing who are sad

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."