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diff --git a/24672-h/24672-h.htm b/24672-h/24672-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d8b0062 --- /dev/null +++ b/24672-h/24672-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8459 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The God of Love, by Justin Huntly McCarthy. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + div.centered {text-align:center;} /*work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 1 */ + div.centered table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; text-align:left;} /* work around for IE problem part 2 */ + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + .centerbox { width: 40%; /* heading box */ + margin: 0 auto; + text-align: center; + padding: 1em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .smallgap {margin-top: 2em} + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .n {text-indent:0%;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i17 {display: block; margin-left: 17em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The God of Love, by Justin Huntly McCarthy + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The God of Love + +Author: Justin Huntly McCarthy + +Release Date: February 23, 2008 [EBook #24672] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOD OF LOVE *** + + + + +Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>THE<br /> +GOD OF LOVE</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>JUSTIN HUNTLY McCARTHY</h2> + +<p class="center">AUTHOR OF</p> + +<p class="center">"THE GORGEOUS BORGIA" "SERAPHICA"<br /> +"IF I WERE KING" ETC.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i17">"The God of Love—ah, <i>Benedicite</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i17">How mighty and how great a lord is he!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">—<span class="smcap">Chaucer.</span> +</p> + +<p class="smallgap"> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 103px;"> +<img src="images/i001.jpg" width="103" height="125" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="smallgap"> </p> +<p class="center">NEW YORK AND LONDON<br /> +HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS<br /> +MCMIX</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1909, by <span class="smcap">Harper & Brothers.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>All rights reserved</i></p> + +<p class="center">Published October, 1909. +</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center">TO</p> + +<p class="center">JUSTIN McCARTHY</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" width="70%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="1" summary="CONTENTS"> + +<tr> +<td>CHAP.</td> +<td align="left"> </td> +<td align="right">PAGE</td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">I.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The May-day Queen</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">II.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Child and a Child</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">III.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Vittoria</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">IV.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Words of the Image</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">V.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">One Way With a Quarrel</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">VI.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Lover and Lass</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">VII.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Concerning Poetry</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">VIII.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Monna Vittoria Sends Me a Message</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">IX.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Madonna Vittoria Sounds a Warning</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">X.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Devils of Arezzo</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XI.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Messer Folco's Festival</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XII.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Dante Reads Rhymes</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XIII.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Go-Betweens</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XIV.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Messer Simone Spoils Sport</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XV.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Spy in the Night</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_190">190</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XVI.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Talk of Lovers</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_204">204</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XVII.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Strange Betrothal</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XVIII.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Word for Messer Simone</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XIX.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Ride in the Night</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_243">243</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XX.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Fight With Those of Arezzo</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_256">256</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XXI.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Maleotti Bears False Witness</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_266">266</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XXII.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Return of the Reds</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_279">279</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XXIII.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Peace of the City</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_286">286</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XXIV.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Breaking the Peace</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_297">297</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XXV.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Meeting and Parting</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_309">309</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XXVI.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Enemy at the Gate</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_322">322</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">XXVII.</span></td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Solitary City</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_335">335</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"> </td> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Note</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_343">343</a></td></tr> + +</table></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_GOD_OF_LOVE" id="THE_GOD_OF_LOVE"></a>THE GOD OF LOVE</h2> + +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2> + +<h3>THE MAY-DAY QUEEN</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">his</span> +is the book of Lappo Lappi, called by his friends the careless, the +happy-go-lucky, the devil-may-take-it, the God-knows-what. Called by his +enemies drinker, swinker, tumbler, tinker, swiver. Called by many women +that liked him pretty fellow, witty fellow, light fellow, bright fellow, +bad fellow, mad fellow, and the like. Called by some women who once +loved him Lapinello, Lappinaccio, little Lappo. Called now in God as a +good religious should be, Lappentarius, from a sweet saint myself +discovered—or invented; need we quibble?—in an ancient manuscript. And +it is my merry purpose now, in a time when I, that am no longer merry, +look back upon days and hours and weeks and months and years that were +very merry indeed, propose to set down something of my own jolly doings +and lovings, and incidentally to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>tell some things about a friend of +mine that was never so merry as I was, though a thousand times wiser; +and never so blithe as I was, though a thousand times the better man. +For it seems to me now, in this cool grim grayness of my present way, +with the cloisters for my kingdom and the nimbused frescoes on the walls +for my old-time ballads and romances, as if my life that was so sunburnt +and wine-sweetened and woman-kissed, my life that seemed to me as +bright, every second of it, as bright ducats rushing in a pleasant +plenteous stream from one hand to another, was after all intended to be +no more than a kind of ironic commentary on, and petty contrast to, the +life of my friend.</p> + +<p>He and I lived our youth out in the greatest and fairest of all cities +that the world has ever seen, greater a thousand times than Troy or +Nineveh, or Babylon or Rome, and when I say this you will know, of +course, that I speak of the city of Florence, and we lived and loved at +the same time, lived and loved in so strangely different a fashion that +it seems to me that if the two lives were set side by side after the +fashion of Messer Plutarch of old days, they would form as diverting a +pair of opposites as any student of humanity could desire for his +entertainment.</p> + +<p>I shall begin, with the favor and permission of Heaven, where I think +the business may rightly be said to begin. The time was a May morning, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>the morning of May-day, warm and bright with sunlight, one of those +mornings which makes a clod seem like a poet and a poet seem like a god. +The place was the Piazza Santa Felicita, with the Arno flowing pretty +full and freely now between its borders of mud. I can see it all as I +write, as I saw it yesterday, that yesterday so many years ago when +Lappo Lappi was young and Lappentarius never dreamed of.</p> + +<p>There is no lovelier day of all the years of days for Florence than +May-day. On that day everybody is or seems to be happy; on that day the +streets of the city are as musical as the courses of the spheres. Youths +and maidens, garlanded and gayly raimented, go about fifing and piping, +and trolling the chosen songs of spring. I think if a stranger should +chance to visit Florence for the first time on a May-day, with the +festival well toward, he might very well think that he had fallen back +by fortunate chance into the youth of the world, when there was nothing +better nor wiser to do than to dance and sing and make merry and make +love. I have heard Messer Brunetto Latini declare, with great eloquence, +that of all the cities man has ever upbuilded with his busy fingers, the +dear city of Cecrops, which Saint Augustine called the dear City of +God—in a word, Athens, was surely the loveliest wherein to live. But +with all respect to Messer Brunetto, I would <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>maintain that no city of +Heathendom or Christendom could be more beautiful than Florence at any +season of the year. What if it be now and then windy; now and then +chilly; now and then dusty? I have talked with a traveller that told me +he had found the winters mighty bitter in Greece. But I think that in +all the history of Florence there never was a May-day like that May-day. +It was gloriously green and gold, gloriously blue and white, gloriously +hot, and yet with a little cool, kissing breeze that made the flaming +hours delectable. And, as I remember so well, I sat on the parapet of +the bridge of the Holy Felicity.</p> + +<p>Where the parapet of the embankment joined the beginning of the bridge +of the Santa Felicita there stood, in those days, a large, square, +ornamental fountain. May be it stands there now. I was banished from +Florence at the same time as my friend, and we left our Mother of the +Lilies to seek and find very dissimilar fortunes. This fountain had a +niche above it, in which niche he that built the fountain designed, no +doubt, to set some image of his own design. But he never carried out his +purpose, why or wherefore I neither knew nor cared, and in that niche +some Magnifico that was kindly minded to the people had set up a stone +image, a relic of the old beautiful pagan days, that had been unearthed +in some garden of his elsewhere. It was the figure of a very comely +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>youth that was clothed in a Grecian tunic, and because, when it was +first dug up, it showed some traces of color on the tunic and the naked +legs and arms and the face and the hair, therefore one of the artificers +of the said Magnifico took it upon himself to paint all as, so he said, +it had once been painted. And he made the limbs a flesh color, and gave +the face its pinks, and the lips their carnation, and the eyes their +blackness, very lively to see; and he adorned the hair very craftily +with gold-leaf, and he painted the shirt of the adorable boy a very +living crimson. It was a very beautiful piece of work with all these +embellishments, and though there were some that said it was an idol and +should not be tolerated, yet, for the most part, the Florentines liked +it well enough, and it saved the cost of a new statue for the vacant +space.</p> + +<p>So it stood there this day that I think of and write of, a very brave +and radiant piece of color, too, for the eye to rest on that had wearied +of looking at the gray stone palace hard by, the palace of Messer Folco +Portinari, that showed so gray and grim in all weathers, save where the +brown rust on its great iron lamps and on the great rings in the wall +lent its dulness some hint of pigment. Over the wall that hid the garden +of the palace I saw and see crimson roses hang and scarlet pomegranate +blossoms. Opposite this gloomy house of the great man that was so well +liked of the Florentines, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>against the pillars of the arcade, there +stood, as I recall it, a bookseller's booth, where manuscripts were +offered for sale on a board. Here he that had the means and the +inclination could treat himself at a price to the wisdom of the ancient +world. I fear I was never one of those so minded. The wisdom of my own +world contented me to the full, and ever it seemed to me that it +mattered less what Messer Plato or Messer Cicero said on this matter and +on that matter than what Messer Lappo Lappi said and did in those +affairs that intimately concerned him.</p> + +<p>Now, on this day, which I see again so clearly, I was seated, as I say, +on the parapet of the bridge, propped against the fountain. If I turned +my head to the left, I could please myself with a sight of the briskly +painted statue of the young Greek youth. If I turned my head to the +right, I could look on the river and the smiling country beyond. But, as +it happened, I turned my head neither to the left nor to the right, but +straight before me and a little below me. For I was singing a song to a +lute for an audience of pretty girls who looked up at me, some +admiringly and some mockingly, but all very approvingly. One of the +girls was named Jacintha, and one was named Barbara, and another, that +had hair of a reddish-yellow and pale, strange eyes, was called +Brigitta. There were also many others to whom, at this time, I cannot +give <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>a name, though I seem to see their faces very clearly and hear the +sound of their voices, as well I might, for I was very good friends with +most of them then or thereafter. And this is the song that I was +singing:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Flower of the lily or flower of the rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart is a leaf on each love-wind that blows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A face at the window, a form at the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can capture my fancy as never before.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My fancy was captured, since-well, let us say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since last night, or the night before last, when I lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the arms of—but, hush, I must needs be discreet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So farewell, with a kiss for your hands and your feet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I worship your fingers, I worship your toes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flower of the lily or flower of the rose."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Then the girl Brigitta, she that had the red-gold hair and the eyes like +pale glass, thrust her face very near to me and said, laughing, "Messer +Lappo, Messer Lappo, who is your sweetheart?"</p> + +<p>And I, who was ever ready with a brisk compliment to pretty maid or +pretty woman, or pretty matron, answered her as swiftly as you please, +"She shall be named by your name, dainty, if you will lend me a kiss of +the lips."</p> + +<p>And, indeed, I wished she would give me my will, for at that time I had +a great desire for Brigitta; but she only pinched up her face to a grin, +and answered me, teasingly, "Nay, I cannot kiss you; I think you have a +Ghibelline mouth."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p><p>Now this seemed to me a foolish answer as well as a pert one, for, +besides that I was ever a Guelph and a Red, I think that politics have +no business to interfere with the pleasant commerce and suave affairs of +love, so I answered her reprovingly. "Kisses have no causes," said I; "I +will kiss Guelph-wise; I will kiss Ghibelline-wise; I will kiss Red; I +will kiss Yellow; it's all one to me, so long as the mouth be like +yours, as pink as a cleft pomegranate, and the teeth as white as its +seeds."</p> + +<p>Now at this Jacintha, who had eyes the color of amethysts, and dark hair +with a purplish stain in it, wagged a finger at me reprovingly, saying, +"I fear you are a wanton wooer." And at this all the other girls laughed +like the jolly wantons they were.</p> + +<p>But I pretended to take it all mighty seriously, and answered as +solemnly as any philosopher, "Never say it, never think it. I am the +golden rose of constancy; I have loved a lass for three days on end, and +never yawned once."</p> + +<p>Now, while I was talking thus, and pulling my face to keep it from +laughing, the girl that was named Barbara had come up very close to me, +and I was minded to slip my arm about her waist and draw her closer with +a view to the kissing of lips. But she had only neighbored me to mock +me, for she cried aloud, "Mirror of chivalry, I will <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>give you a Guelph +cuff on your Ghibelline cheek." And as she spoke, being a girl of +spirit, she kept her word very roundly, and fetched me a box on the ear +with her brown hand that made my wits sing.</p> + +<p>Now this was more than my philosophy could stomach, so I made a grab at +her, but she dipped from my outstretched fingers and slipped into the +midst of the crowd of other girls, and straightway I dropped from my +parapet and ran after her, vowing the merriest, pleasantest skelping. +However, she was too swift for me, and too nimble, capering behind this +girl and that girl, and ever eluding me when I seemed to be on the point +of seizing the minx, till at last, what with laughing and running and +calling, my breath failed me, and I stood in the midst of the pretty +jades, panting.</p> + +<p>"Nay, I am fairly winded," I protested. "If some sweet she do not give +me a kiss, I shall die of despair."</p> + +<p>Then Brigitta, who was nearest to me, came nearer with a kind look in +her strange eyes. "Nay then," she said, "for your song's sake, and to +save your life." So she said and so she did, for she kissed me full on +the mouth before all of them, and, indeed, this was the first time I had +kissed her, though I thank Heaven it was not the last.</p> + +<p>And because there is nothing so contagious as kindness and so +stimulating as a good example, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>the other girls were now ripe and ready +to do as she did, and Jacintha cried, "I will be generous, too!" and set +her red lips where Brigitta's kiss had rested, and then one kissed me +and another, and at the end of it all, Barbara herself, that had been so +ready with her fingers, surrendered and kissed me too. And it was while +she was kissing me, and I was making rather a long business of it, +seeing how she was the last to be kissed, and how she had provoked me, +that there came unobserved into our group another youth whose coming I +had not noticed, being so busy on pleasant business.</p> + +<p>But I heard a very sweet and tunable voice speak, and the voice asked, +"When the air is so brisk with kisses, is there never a kiss for me?" +And I looked up from the lips of Barbara and saw that my very dear +friend, Messer Guido Cavalcanti, was newly of our company.</p> + +<p>It is many a long year since my dear friend Messer Guido dei Cavalcanti +died of that disastrous exile to which, by the cynical irony of fate, my +other dear friend, Messer Dante dei Alighieri, was foredestined to doom +him. That sadness has nothing to do with this sadness, and I here give +it the go-by. But at nights when I lie awake in my cell—a thing which, +I thank my stars happens but rarely—or in the silence of some more +than usually quiet dawn, I seem to see him again as I saw him that +morning, so blithe, so bright, so delightful. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>Never was so fine a +gentleman. It is to be regretted, perhaps, that his was not a spirit +that believes. I that am a sinner have no qualms and uncertainties, but +credit what I am told to credit, and no more said. After all, why say +more? But Messer Guido was of a restless, discontented, fretting spirit, +that chafed at command and convention, and would yield nothing of doubt +for the sake of an easy life. Well, he was the handsomest man I have +ever known, and he never seemed fairer than on that May morning—Lord, +Lord, how many centuries ago it seems!—when he came upon me in the +sunlit Place of the Holy Felicity, and thereafter, for the first time, +made the acquaintance of Messer Dante.</p> + +<p>When the girls heard that complaint of Messer Guido's, they gathered +about him noisily, crying, "Surely, Messer Guido, surely!" and pushing +their impudent faces close to his, and catching him with their hands, +for indeed Messer Guido was a very comely personage, and one that was +always well-eyed by women.</p> + +<p>But it seems that for all his asking he had little mind for the amorous +traffic, for he laughingly disengaged himself from the girls, and I said +to him, pretending to be jealous, "If you taste of their bounty, I shall +tell Monna Giovanna"—for so was named the lady he loved—"and then you +will weep red tears."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p><p>Messer Guido pointed to me with a mock air of indignation. "See what it +is," he said, "to take a traitor to one's heart." He ran his laughing +eyes over the little knot of us, and went on, "Sweet ladies, and you, +sour gentleman, I have news for you."</p> + +<p>But I protested, drolling him, for it was always our custom when we met +to toss jests and mockery to and fro, as children toss a ball. "Do not +heed him," I said, "Guido's news is always eight days old."</p> + +<p>Then the girls laughed at him, for I think in their hearts they were +vexed because he had not taken their kisses—at least, most of them; for +I have it in mind that Brigitta was content with my kissing and none +other. But Guido was not to be downed by their laughter.</p> + +<p>"This is not an hour old," he said. "You should all be at the Signory. +The fair ladies of Florence have chosen Monna Beatrice, of the +Portinari, for the queen of their May festival, and will bear her about +the city presently in triumph."</p> + +<p>Now this was no piece of news for me, but I was where I was for a +reason, which was to meet Messer Dante. It was news to the girls, +though, for Brigitta cried, "Monna Beatrice, she who has been away from +Florence these nine years?" and Jacintha questioned, "Monna Beatrice! Is +she daughter of Folco Portinari that builds hospitals?" <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>and Barbara +sighed, "Monna Beatrice, whom some call the loveliest girl in the city?"</p> + +<p>And Guido gave to their several questions a single answer: "Even she. +For her beauty's sake and in compliment to Messer Folco, because he +builds hospitals."</p> + +<p>Now, though I had little interest in this news of Guido's, I was so glad +of his coming that I was as ready to be rid of the girls by this time as +I had been eager before to keep them about me. So I waved my hand at +them as housewives wave their hands to scare the chickens, and I called +to them: "So! Away with you girls to join the merry-making. I will kiss +you all another day."</p> + +<p>Then the girls began to mock at me again, and Jacintha hailed me as +prince of poets, and Brigitta, half laughing and half earnest, called me +prince of lovers, and Barbara shot out her pink tongue at me, saying, +"Prince of liars!"</p> + +<p>Straightway I made as if I would catch them and slap them, and they all +ran away laughing, and Messer Guido and I were left alone, at the corner +of the bridge of the Holy Felicity, with the image of the God of Love +hard by.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, lilies of life!" I called after the flying fugitives, kissing +my hand at them; and then I turned to my friend. "This lady Beatrice," I +questioned, "is she very fair?" For though I had heard not a little of +her return to our city from <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>Fiesole, I had not yet seen her, and I am +always curious—I mean I was then always curious—about fair women.</p> + +<p>"Angel fair," Guido answered, briskly. "Our Florence is ever a nest of +loveliness, but no one of her women is fairer than Folco's daughter."</p> + +<p>"May be she seems fairer, being strange," I hinted, quizzically. "Are we +not Athenian in our love of new things?"</p> + +<p>Guido answered me very gravely. "I think we should have held her as +precious if she had never left us."</p> + +<p>Now, I had never given the affairs of the Portinari many thoughts, and +though I had heard how Messer Folco had brought his daughter home of +late from Fiesole, I knew nothing more than so much, wherefore I +questioned, less because I cared, than because Messer Guido seemed to +care, "Why did she leave us?"</p> + +<p>Guido seated himself by my side on the parapet, swinging his slim legs, +and told the tale he wanted to tell.</p> + +<p>"It is nine years ago. She was one of those fairy children—I remember +her very well—too divine, too bright, it might seem, to hold in the +four walls of any mortal mansion. That as it may, the physicians found +her a delicate piece of flesh, and so banished her out of our hot +Florence into the green coolness of the hills."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p><p>I do not think that I cared very much about what Messer Guido was +telling me, but because I loved him I feigned to care.</p> + +<p>"And has she lived there ever since?" I asked, with such show of +interest as I could muster.</p> + +<p>And he answered me, very lively. "There she has lived ever since. But +now Messer Folco, being reassured of her health, brings her to Florence, +where her beauty will break hearts, I promise."</p> + +<p>I think he sighed a little, and I know that I laughed as I spoke. "Well, +I that have broken my heart a hundred times will break it again for her, +if she pleases."</p> + +<p>Messer Guido grinned at me a little maliciously. "Better not let Messer +Simone dei Bardi hear you," he said, and his words suddenly brought +before me the image of a very notable figure in the Florence of my +youth, a very forward man in the squabbles of the Yellows and the Reds.</p> + +<p>It would, I think, be very hard to make any stranger acquainted with the +state of our city at this time, for it was more split and fissured with +feuds and dissensions than a dried melon rind. It had pleased Heaven in +its wisdom to decide that it was not enough for us to be distraught with +the great flagrant brawls between the Guelphs and the Ghibellines, +between those that stood for Roman Emperor and those that stood for +Roman Pope. No, we must needs be divided again into yet <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>further +factions and call ourselves Reds and Yellows, and cut one another's +throats in the name of these two colors with more heat and zeal in the +cutting than had ever stirred the blood of the partisans of the two +great camps.</p> + +<p>This Red and Yellow business began simply enough and grimly enough in a +quarrel between two girls, distant kinswomen, of the House of the Casa +Bella. One of these girls maintained, at some merry-making, that she was +comelier than the other, which that other very stoutly denied, and from +the bandying of words they came to the bandying of blows, and because it +is never a pretty sight to see two women at clapper-claws together, +those about bestirred themselves to sunder the sweet amazons, and in the +process of pulling them apart more blows were given and exchanged +between those that sought at first to be peacemakers, and there were +many hot words and threats of vengeance.</p> + +<p>From this petty beginning, like your monumental oak from your pigmy +acorn, there grew up a great feud between the families of the two girls, +and like a poison the plague of the quarrel spread to Florence, and in a +twinkling men were divided against each other in a deathly hatred that +in their hearts knew little of the original quarrel, and cared nothing +at all for it. But as all parties must needs have a nickname, whether +chosen or conferred, the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>first of these parties was called Yellow, +because the girl that began the quarrel had yellow eyes; and the other +party in mockery called itself Red, because the girl that was, as it +were, the patron saint of their side of the squabble had red hair. These +Reds and Yellows fought as fiercely in Florence as ever the Blues and +the Greens in Constantinople of old time. And in our city the Donati +sided with the Reds, and the Cerchi with the Yellows, and all that loved +either of these great houses chose their color and conducted themselves +accordingly. But you must not suppose that the heads of the great houses +of the Donati and the Cerchi publicly avowed themselves as the leaders +of these whimsical factions, however much they might, for their own +purposes, foster and encourage their existence. At the time of which I +write Messer Guido Cavalcanti was ostensibly the chief man among the +Reds, and the chief man among the Yellows was Messer Simone dei Bardi.</p> + +<p>Here, in consequence of this business of Reds and Yellows, was a +thickening of the imbroglio of Florentine life. For now it was not +enough to be told whether a man was Guelph or Ghibelline in order to +know how to deal with him. It was not merely prudent but even imperative +to inquire further, for a rooted Guelph might be Red or Yellow in this +other scuffle, and so might a rooted Ghibelline. Thus our poor City of +the Lilies was become <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>a very Temple of Discord, and at any moment a +chance encounter in the street, a light word let fly—nay, even no more +than a slight glance—might be the signal for drawn swords and runnels +of blood among the cobbles. Truly, therefore, it is not to be denied +that for such poor gentlemen as, like myself, desired their ease, +together with much singing and kissing and sipping, Florence was by no +means an Arcadia. And yet there was no one of us that would willingly +have lived elsewhere, for all the quarrelling and all the feuds.</p> + +<p>Now I do not say it because I was a Red myself, but I do think that the +Reds were of a better temper than the Yellows. Very certainly no one was +less eager to fan the flames of these quarrellings and feuds than the +man that was by my side, Messer Guido Cavalcanti. And no less certainly +of those that were hottest for quarrellings and keenest to keep old +feuds alive, and to enforce distinctions of faction, and make much of +party cries, there was no one hotter and keener than Messer Simone dei +Bardi, whose name had just come to Messer Guido's lips.</p> + +<p>Messer Simone came of a house that was of excellent good repute in our +city. Bankers his folk were, very busy and prosperous, and bankers they +had been for many a long day before Messer Simone was begotten. Messer +Simone was not the greatest heir, but I think in his way he was the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>most notable, though his way was not quite the way of the family, no +less steady-going than honorable, from which he came. For, indeed, it +was his chief delight to lavish the money which his forebears had +amassed, and there was no one in all Florence more prompt than he to +fling hoarded florins out of the window. By rights he should have been a +free-companion, and received on the highroad at the heads of a levy of +lesser devils, for of a truth he was too turbulent and quarrelsome for +Florence, which is saying much. The men of my spring days, as I have +written, were ranged in many ways of opposition, Guelph against +Ghibelline, Red against Yellow, Donati against Cerchi, and Messer Simone +should have been content to be Guelph and Yellow and Cerchi, but at +times he carried himself as if he were ranged against every one, or +perhaps I should rather say that he carried himself as if his single +will was above all the wranglers of others, and that it was given to him +to do as he pleased, heedless of the feelings of any faction. Had he had +but the wit to balance his arrogance, Messer Simone might have been a +great man in Florence. As it proved, he was only a great plague.</p> + +<p>Now I laughed at Guido's words, for it seemed strange to me to think of +Messer Simone dei Bardi as a wooer of countrified damsels. "What has +that Bull-face to do with it?" I asked, and whistled mockingly after the +asking.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p><p>Guido still looked grave. "Why, I think his fist gapes, finger and +thumb, to seize Monna Beatrice," he said, and he said no more, but +looked as if he could say much.</p> + +<p>Here was an oracle anxious to be interrogated, so I questioned him +further. I knew by report that the girl was fair, but I could not think +of her in any fashion as a maid for Messer Simone, and I conveyed my +doubts to Guido. "Is the girl to be snared so?" I asked.</p> + +<p>Guido looked cryptic. "That is for father Folco to settle," he said. +"And father Folco is a man that loves his fellow-men, but would have his +children obey him even to the death, like a Roman father of old."</p> + +<p>I began to take the matter hotly, thinking it over and looking at it +this way and that way. "Well, if I were a woman," I protested, "which I +thank Heaven I am not," I interpolated, fervently, "I would drown in +Arno sooner than be bride to Simone of the Bardi."</p> + +<p>Guido shrugged his shoulders. He was a man that believed anything of +women. "Yet I think Vittoria loves him," he said, softly, more as if to +himself than to me.</p> + +<p>But, bless you, I caught him up nimbly, seeing the weakness of his +argument. "Vittoria, the courtesan! She loves any man, every man."</p> + +<p>Guido looked at me very thoughtfully. Then <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>he said, slowly: "I will +tell you a tale I heard yesterday. Some while ago our bull-headed +Simone, being with Vittoria at supper at her house, and as drunk as is +his custom at the tail of the day, dozed on a sofa while the company +began to talk of fair women."</p> + +<p>I was horrified at the ill-manners of the hog, though it all seemed of a +piece with his habitual hoggishness. "One should never be too drunk," I +averred, "to talk on that illuminating theme."</p> + +<p>Now Guido was fretted at my interruption, and he showed it with a frown +and a silencing gesture of his hand. "Peace, Lappo, peace!" he cried; +"this is my story. Some praised this lady, some praised that, all, as +was due to their guesthood, giving the palm to Vittoria, till some one +said there lived a lady at Fiesole that was lovelier than a dream."</p> + +<p>"Who was this nonesuch?" I asked, all agog over any word of loveliness.</p> + +<p>Guido chastened my impatience with a grave glance. "I come to that," he +continued. "She was named Beatrice, daughter of Folco Portinari, and he +that praised her averred that whoso might wed her would be the happiest +of mortals."</p> + +<p>Now, though the air was warm, I shivered at his words, as if it had +suddenly turned cold, for, indeed, I was never a marrying man, and my +pleasantest memories of women are not memories of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>any wife of mine. +"Marriage—and happiness?" I said, questioning and grinning. "I am not +of his mind."</p> + +<p>Guido looked at me with a good-humored smile, as one that was prepared +to bear with my interruptions. "Nor he of yours," he answered. "Now, as +they talked thus, our Simone stirred in his stupor, and swore that if +this were true he would marry the maiden. Vittoria laughed, and her +laughter so teased the ruffian that he swore a great oath he would take +any wager he would wed this exquisite maiden."</p> + +<p>"Who took him?" I asked. The tale promised to be interesting, and +spurred my curiosity.</p> + +<p>Guido went on with his narrative. "No man. Simone's luck is proverbial +as his enmity deadly. But Vittoria grinned at him, swearing no such maid +would marry him, and at last so goaded him that he defied her to a +wager. Then she dared him to this—staking her great emerald, in a ring +that the French prince gave her, on the terms that if he failed to gain +the daughter of Folco Portinari he was in all honor and solemnity to +marry her, Vittoria."</p> + +<p>I remember as well as if it were yesterday my amazement when I heard +this story, and am inclined now to uplift my hands as I then uplifted +them in wonder, and am inclined to say again, as I said then, "Gods, +what a wager!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p><p>Guido seemed amused at my astonishment, for he laughed a little while +softly to himself, and then went on with his tale-telling. "Simone's red +gills winced, like a dying fish, but he was too drunk to qualify. He +swore a foul oath, 'I will marry this lily,' says he, 'within a year, +and if I do not, why I will wed you, you—' And he called Vittoria by +such lewd names as your wit can picture. But she, turning no hair, +called for pen and parchment, and had it fairly engrossed and Simone's +sprawling signature duly witnessed before even the company departed. So +it stands—Simone must win the maid or wed the light o' love."</p> + +<p>Then I said, "I take it he will win the maid."</p> + +<p>Guido nodded his head gravely. He did not like Simone any better than I +did, but he had a way of accepting facts more readily. "Simone mostly +wins his wish. See how far he has gone already. He has so worked it that +her father has brought his lovely daughter from the hills to the city. +Old Folco favors him, and small wonder, Messer Simone being the power he +is in Florence. As for this triumph of Folco's daughter through our +streets, I take it to be rather Simone's displaying of his prize, that +all men may envy him his marvel."</p> + +<p>For my part, I protested very honestly and from the core of my heart. +"If I were old Portinari, I would rather rot in exile than have Simone +dei Bardi for my son-in-law."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p><p>Guido tapped me on the shoulder. "That is," he said, "because you have +the heart of an amorist that would let none be lover save himself."</p> + +<p>I laughed in his face, and gave him the lie courteously. "No, because I +have the heart of a poet, and the full-favored brute vexes my gorge."</p> + +<p>Guido still seemed to mock me. "As you will," he said. "Shall we go to +the Signory and stare at the pageant?"</p> + +<p>I shook my head. I was sorry to deny Messer Guido in anything or to +deprive myself of the comfort of his company. But I had come to that +place to keep a tryst. "I cannot," I said. "I wait here for young Dante +of the Alighieri."</p> + +<p>Now Messer Dante and I had been friends for some years past, friends not +indeed because we were both Florentines, but perhaps I should say in +spite of the fact that we were both Florentines. For in those days, as +in the days before them, and in the days that since have come to pass, +while every Florentine loved Florence with all the passion of an old +Roman for the city of Romulus, Florentine very often loved Florentine as +day loves night, eld youth, health sickness, poverty riches, or any +other pair of opposites you please. But I was never much of a +politician, I thank my stars, and though a good enough Guelph to pass +muster in a crowd, and a good enough Red to cry "Haro!" upon the Yellows +if need were, I bothered my <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>head very little about such brawls so long +as there were songs to sing, vintages to sip, and pretty girls to kiss.</p> + +<p>In Messer Dante I found one of my own age, or, perhaps, a little less +that was in those days scarcely more pricked by the itch political than +I myself was, and for a while he and I had been jolly companions in the +merry pleasant ways of youth. But of late days this Dante, that was ever +a wayward fellow, had suddenly turned away from sports and joys, and +devoted himself with an unwholesome fervor to study, and seemed, as it +were, lost to me in the Humanities. Which is why I had made a tryst with +him that day to upbraid him and bring him to a better sense, and so I +could not go with Messer Guido as he was good enough to wish.</p> + +<p>Guido looked at me with a sudden interest. "You are much his friend, are +you not?" he questioned.</p> + +<p>Now I had for long been mightily taken with Messer Dante, and, indeed, +for a while I seemed to see the world as he saw it, and to speak as he +would have spoken. I am of that mood now, after all these years—at +least, in a measure. But just then I was in a reaction and vexed, and I +voiced my vexation swiftly. "Why, I thought so once. But I wash my hands +of him. We were as one in the playthings of youth. Now he dances no more +to my piping. He will not laugh when <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>my wit tickles him. He is no +longer for drinking or kissing, for dicing or fighting. He has a cold +fit of wisdom come upon him, and rests ever with Messer Brunetto, the +high dry-as-dust, reading of Virgilius, Tullius, and other ancients, as +if learning were better than living. I have made a tryst with him here +to upbraid him; but I doubt he will keep it."</p> + +<p>"I know little of him," Guido said, thoughtfully. "I should like to know +more, to know much."</p> + +<p>Now, it was a great compliment to any youth in our city that Messer +Guido should desire his acquaintance, yet I feared in this case he had +made a rash choice.</p> + +<p>"Lord," I said, "he is hard to know. Yet, laugh if you will, but I think +there are great things in him."</p> + +<p>Messer Guido did not laugh. Rather he looked grave. "Pray God there be," +he said. "For indeed the age lacks greatness."</p> + +<p>"So every man has said in every age," I protested. "But our Dante +baffles me. He changes his moods as a chameleon changes his coat, and +feeds each mood so full. Yesteryear he was mad for the open air, and the +games, and the joy of life. To-day he is mewed in the cloisters of +knowledge. He is damned in his Latin. I will wait no more for him."</p> + +<p>So I spoke in my impatience, and made as if to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>go; but Guido caught me +by the sleeve and restrained me, saying, "Why, here, as I think, he +comes, by way of the bridge."</p> + +<p>Now, even as he spoke, I looked where he looked, and whom should I see +coming toward us on the shady side of the bridge than this very lad we +were talking of, and with him Messer Brunetto, the great scholar. So I +went on with a new anger in my voice, "It is he, indeed, in Messer +Brunetto's escort," and then I plucked Guido by the arm and pulled him +round about, so that we were out of ken of the coming pair. "Let us +stand off one side till he be alone."</p> + +<p>So I urged and so I persuaded, and Messer Guido and I, that were curious +to have speech with Dante, but had no desire to have speech with the +elder, slipped apart and hid ourselves in the shadow of the pillars of +the Arcade that faced the Portinari palace.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> + +<h3>A CHILD AND A CHILD</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">G</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">uido</span> +and I had scarcely taken cover when Messer Brunetto came into view +on the lip of the bridge. He was talking as he walked, but he walked and +talked alone, for unperceived by him Dante had lagged behind and stood +with his elbows rested on the parapet looking down at Arno below him. +Messer Brunetto was discoursing very learnedly about Messer Virgilius, +and how he did, in a measure, form and model himself upon Messer +Homerus, when he suddenly became aware that he was wasting his periods +upon empty air—for of us where we lurked he knew nothing. Turning +round, he saw where Dante stood pensive, and called to him sharply, +asking him why he dawdled.</p> + +<p>Dante, thus addressed, raised his head from the cup of his palms and his +elbows from the parapet, and, with a pleasant smile on his face, came +down to where Messer Brunetto had halted. I have never known a man's +face that could be blither than Dante's when he smiled, and in those +days, when he and I were young together, before that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>happened which was +so soon to happen, I had seen him smile many a time, though for the most +part his countenance had a great air of gravity. Now he and Messer +Brunetto stood in talk, and from where I lay hid I could catch most of +the words these two spoke, and my wit was nimble enough to piece out the +rest at my convenience; and you must take it with a good will that what +I set down was spoken or might be spoken by my friend. And the first I +heard him say was this, in a grave voice, "Forgive me for lingering, +Master; I was listening to the Song of the River."</p> + +<p>And Messer Brunetto echoed, in surprise: "The Song of the River! What in +the name of all the ancients is the Song of the River?"</p> + +<p>Messer Dante seemed to muse for a while, and then I heard him answer his +master in that strong voice of his, that even then was deep and full, +and always brought to my mind the sound of a bell.</p> + +<p>"The Song of the River, the Song of Life. I cannot sing you the Song of +the River. If I could tell you its meaning, I should be a greater poet +than Virgilius."</p> + +<p>Messer Brunetto held up his hands in a horror that was only part +pretended. "Do not blaspheme!" he cried. Dante smiled for a moment at +his whimsical vehemence, and then went on with his own thoughts, talking +as one that mused aloud.</p> + +<p>"It must be glorious to be a great poet, to weave <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>one's dreams into +wonderful words that live in men's hearts forever. Master, I would +rather be a great poet than be the Emperor of Rome."</p> + +<p>Then the elder looked at the younger with a smile and shook his head at +his ambition. "It is given to few to be great poets; there have been +fewer great poets than emperors since the world began."</p> + +<p>But my friend was not to be so put off. I knew him ever to be persistent +when once his mind was made up, and it may be that he knew well enough +that such warnings had been addressed idly to all the great poets in +their youth. He answered Messer Brunetto slowly.</p> + +<p>"My mother, who died young—I cannot remember her—dreamed a strange +dream of me. She dreamed that I stood a shepherd beneath a laurel-tree, +and strove to gather the leaves thereof, and failed in my strivings and +fell, and rose again, and lo! no longer a man, but a peacock, a glory of +gold and purple."</p> + +<p>The youth paused for a moment as if he lingered lovingly over the +bequeathed vision, then he questioned Messer Brunetto. "What could this +dream mean, Master?"</p> + +<p>Messer Brunetto looked sour. "Who shall say? Who shall guess?" he +answered, fretfully. "Your peacock is a vain bird with a harsh voice."</p> + +<p>Dante seemed to pay no heed to the impatience <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>or the disdain of his +master. He went on talking as if he were talking to himself, or to some +congenial companion such as I would be.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes I dream of that laurel-tree, and then I wake with joy in my +heart and verses humming in my brain. They vanish when I try to set them +down, but they sweeten the leave of the day."</p> + +<p>I think Messer Brunetto did not like the turn which his pupil's thoughts +had taken. "Dreams are but dreams," he answered, impatiently. "Wisdom, +philosophy, these are the true treasures. There is no harm in a Latin +ode after the manner of Messer Ovidius, but for the most part poets or +those that call themselves such are foolish fellows enough, and keep +very bad company. Ply your book, my son, and avoid them."</p> + +<p>"Messer Guido Cavalcanti is a poet," Dante objected, firmly, yet gently, +for he was speaking to his elder, and to a very great and famous man, +and he always carried himself with a becoming reverence to those that +should be revered.</p> + +<p>The scholar smiled a little acidly. "He is of a noble house, and he may +divert himself with such trifles and no harm done."</p> + +<p>Then I saw Dante raise his head, and his eyes flashed and his cheeks +flushed. "I, too, am of a noble house," he asserted, proudly; and indeed +this was true, for he could claim descent from people of very pretty +genealogy. "I, too, am of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>a noble house," he insisted. "I derive from +the Alighieri of Ferrara, the Frangipani of Rome. Heaven my witness, +that matters little, but to be a great poet would matter much."</p> + +<p>Messer Brunetto patted my Dante very kindly on the shoulder, and looked +at him with the look that old men wear when they are advising young men.</p> + +<p>"I have better hopes for you," he declared, "for I swear you have in you +the makings of a pretty scholar."</p> + +<p>He smiled as he spoke, paternally, as one that feels he has spoken the +last word that has any need to be spoken on any matter of dispute.</p> + +<p>But Dante seemed to be little impressed by his advice, and he showed his +own thoughts in his words, for when he spoke it was rather as if he were +speaking to himself than to his companion. "Am I a fool to feel these +stirrings of the spirit? God knows. But my dreams are full of stars and +angels, and the sound of sweet words like many winds and many waters. +And then I wake in an exultation and the words die on my lips."</p> + +<p>Messer Brunette lifted his hands in protest. "Thank Heaven they do die. +It must needs be so. Purge yourself of such folly. Poetry died with the +ancients. Virtue, my young friend, not verses. Will you dine with me? We +will eat beans and defy Pythagoras."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p><p>Dante shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I thank you," he answered, slowly, and I supposed it grieved him a +little to deny so wise a man, "but I may not. I keep a tryst here."</p> + +<p>Messer Brunetto instantly assumed an air of alarm, and he allowed his +voice to tremble as he said, "With no woman, I hope."</p> + +<p>Dante looked at him squarely. "With no woman, I swear. I have no more to +do with women. What woman is as fair as philosophy, as winsome as +wisdom?"</p> + +<p>Messer Brunetto beamed on him with an admiring smile.</p> + +<p>"Right, my son, right!" he cried, delighted. "Better Seneca for you than +sensuality; Virgilius than venery. When you are as ripe as I, you may +trifle awhile if you like with lightness." Here I, listening, sniggered, +for it was blown about the city that Messer Brunetto had his passions or +fancies or vagaries, call them what you will, and humored them out of +school hours. "For the present," he went on, "read deep and lie chaste, +and so farewell."</p> + +<p>He patted Dante again paternally on the shoulder and wished him +good-day, and went off down the street, muttering to himself, as I make +very little doubt, his wonder that any could be found so foolish as to +wish to string rhymes together when they might be studying the divine +philosophies of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>ancients. As for Messer Dante, he stood for a while +where his master had left him, as one that was deep in thought, and we, +though we had a mind to spring out and accost him, yet refrained, for I +knew of old that when my friend was deep in his reflections he was +sometimes inclined to be vexed with those that disturbed him. So we +still lingered and peeped, and presently Dante sighed and went over to +where the bookstall stood and began turning over some of the parchments +that lay on the board. As he did so the bookseller popped his head out +at him from the booth, as a tortoise from his shell, and I never beheld +tortoise yet so crisp and withered as this human. Messer Cecco Bartolo +was his name. And Dante addressed him. "Gaffer Bookman, Gaffer Bookman, +have you any new wares?"</p> + +<p>The bookseller dived into the darkness of his shop again and came out in +a twinkling with an armful of papers, which he flung down on the board +before Dante. "There," he said. "There lie some manuscripts that came in +a chest I bought last week. Is there one of them to your taste?"</p> + +<p>We watched Dante examining the manuscripts eagerly, and putting the most +part of them impatiently aside. One seemed to attract his attention, for +he gave it a second and more careful glance, and then addressed the +bookseller. "This <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>seems to be a knightly tale," he said, extending the +volume. "What do you ask for it?"</p> + +<p>The bookseller took the manuscript from him, glanced at it, and then +handed it back to him. "Take it or leave it, three florins is its +price."</p> + +<p>We heard Dante sigh a little, and we saw Dante smile a little, and he +answered the bookseller, humorously: "My purse is as lean as Pharaoh's +kine, but the story opens bravely, and a good tale is better than +shekels or bezants. What do you buy with your money that is worth what +you sell for it?"</p> + +<p>The bookseller shrugged his stooped shoulders. "Food and drink and the +poor rags that Adam's transgression enforces on us."</p> + +<p>Dante laughed at his conceit. "You are a merry peddler," he said, and +took out of his pouch a few coins, from which he counted scrupulously +the sum that the bookseller had asked, and gave it to him. Then he moved +slowly away from the stall, reading in his new purchase until he came to +the fountain that had the painted statue over it. There he sat himself +down on a stone bench in the angle of the wall and buried himself in his +book.</p> + +<p>And by now we were resolved to address him, but again we were diverted +from our purpose, for there came by a little company of merrymakers, +youths and maidens, that were making sport as is fit for such juvenals +in that season of felicity which is <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>named May-day. Some had pipes and +some had lutes and some had tambourines, and all were singing as loud as +they could and making as much noise as they might, and when they came +into the open space hard by the fountain they paused for a while in +their progress, and broke into as lively a morris-dance as ever I had +seen skipped. How they twisted and turned and tripped; how bravely they +made music; how lustily they sang. I recall them now, those bright +little human butterflies. I can see the pretty faces and slim figures of +the girls, the blithe carriage of the lads. The musical tumult that they +make seems to be ringing in my ears as I write, and my narrow room +widens to its harmony.</p> + +<p>But would you believe it, no sound of all that singing and dancing +served to rouse Messer Dante for one moment from his book. Though the +air was full of shrill voices and sweet notes and the clapping of hands +and the flapping fall of dancing feet, he remained motionless, and never +once lifted up his eyes to look at the merry crowd. As for the dancers, +I do not think that they saw him, certainly they paid him no heed. Why +should such merry fellows as they take note of a book-worm while there +were songs to sing and tunes to turn and dances to dance? And by-and-by, +when they had made an end of their measure, they fell into procession +again and went away as quickly as they <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>had come, leaving me mightily +delighted with their entertainment. As they trooped off over the bridge, +Guido and I made up our minds that now we would have speech with Dante; +so we came out from where we had lain hid and walked softly across the +space that divided us from him, and stood by his side and called his +name loudly into his ears. Then, after a while, but not at all at first +calling, Dante slowly lifted his eyes from his book and looked at us, +and the look on his face was the look of a man that is newly wakened +from a pleasurable dream. Then he smiled salutation on me, for, indeed, +I believe he always liked me, and recognizing Messer Guido, he rose and +saluted him courteously.</p> + +<p>"Now, Heaven bless you, brother," I cried, "that you seem to sleep in +the midst of all these rumors."</p> + +<p>Dante gazed at me with untroubled curiosity. "What rumors?" he asked, +indifferently.</p> + +<p>"Why," replied Guido, staring at him, "here was the daintiest dancing."</p> + +<p>Now by this I remembered that of us three present two were not known one +to the other, and I hastened to amend the matter.</p> + +<p>"Nay," said I, "here is another that can tell you better than I. Here is +Messer Guido of the Cavalcanti that has kicked heels with me on this +ground for the wish to make your acquaintance."</p> + +<p>Now, Messer Guido, that had stood quietly by, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>made speed to speak to +Dante. "It is very true," he declared. "I have heard your praises." And +as he spoke the face of Dante flushed with pleasure, for it was no small +honor to be sought in friendship by Messer Guido. So he answered him +very gladly, yet with a certain calmness that was his character in all +things.</p> + +<p>"Messer Guido," he said, "I am honored to the top of my longing, though, +indeed, I have no greater claim to your favor than this: that I know by +root of heart every rhyme that you have written and given."</p> + +<p>At this Messer Guido laughed joyously. "Heaven, friend," he cried, "what +better recommendation could a man have to one that writes verses?"</p> + +<p>"Is there one in Florence," Dante asked, "that could not say as much?" +Then, as if to break away from bandying of compliments, he asked: "But +what were the rumors you spoke of?"</p> + +<p>"Why," replied Guido, looking at him in some wonder, "here was the +daintiest festal ever devised: delicate youths and exquisite maidens +footing it to pipe and cymbal as blithely as if they would never grow +old."</p> + +<p>Dante shook his head a little. "I did not mark them."</p> + +<p>As for me, I marvelled, and I cried, "A beatific disposition that can +sleep in such a din."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p><p>But Dante reproved me with that gravity he always showed when there was +any matter of truth to be considered. "I did not sleep," he asserted. "I +read."</p> + +<p>"What, in Heaven's name," asked Guido, "did you read, that could shut +your ears to such a din?"</p> + +<p>Dante lifted up toward him the manuscript he had newly bought. "The +love-tale of Knight Lancelot and Queen Guinevere. The fellow that wrote +it discourses nothing but marvels."</p> + +<p>Now I was curious, for I love all strange tales, and I questioned him: +"What marvels?"</p> + +<p>Dante answered me smiling, and his face was always very sweet when he +smiled. "Why, the rogue will have it that when such a cavalier as +Lancelot tumbles into love he becomes a very ecstatic, and sees the +world as it never is, was, or shall be. The sun is no more than his +lady's looking-glass, and the moon and stars her candles to light her to +bed. You are a lover, Messer Guido. Do you think thus of your lady?"</p> + +<p>Messer Guido answered emphatically, for he was indeed deep in love with +a lady well worth the loving. "Very surely and so will you when the +fever wrings you."</p> + +<p>Dante turned to me, still with that same luminous smile on his face. +"And you, Lappo?"</p> + +<p>Now, it was then and ever my creed that it is a man's best business to +be in love as much and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>as often as he can, and I answered him according +to my fancy. "I should scorn myself if I did not overtop every conceited +fancy that lover has ever sighed or sung for his lady."</p> + +<p>Dante still smiled, but there was now a little scorn in his smile that +nettled me. "It is strange," he said. And then made a feint of returning +to his book, saying, "Well, I will read in my book again if you are no +wiser."</p> + +<p>But Guido laid his hand upon the pages and protested. "Plague on your +reading, brother; you read too much. You are young to be so studious of +pothooks and hangers. The Book of Life is a brave book for a youth to +read in."</p> + +<p>And here I put in my word. "And the two best chapters, by your leave, +are those that treat of Squire Bacchus and Dame Venus."</p> + +<p>"You are a pretty ribald," Dante said to me, mockingly. "Leave me to my +ease. Let our star wheel where it pleases; I cannot guide the chariot of +the sun. Let me bask in its bounty, warm my hands at it, eat the fruit +it ripens, and drink the wine it kindles. I am content. Florence is the +fairest city in the world. I shall be happy to grow old in Florence, +studiously, peacefully, pleasantly, dreaming my dreams."</p> + +<p>Guido protested against his placidity. "What a slugabed spirit! Rings +there no alarum in your blood?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p><p>Dante said nothing, but looked at me, and I supported Guido's theme. +"There are ladies in Florence as lovely as the city's lilies. I would +rather lie in white arms than dream dreams."</p> + +<p>Dante shook his head, and he fluttered the pages of his book as he +answered us slowly: "Restless, feverish Titans, forever challenging the +great gods of Love and War. Give me the dappled shade of a green garden, +the sable shadows quivering on a ground of gold, a book of verse by me +to play with when I would be busy, and a swarm of sweet rhythms like +colored butterflies floating about my drowsy senses. What to me are wars +and rumors of wars in that delicious ease? What to me are the white +breasts of the fair Florentines?"</p> + +<p>Guido and I looked at each other in wonder, and then Guido asked again, +"Tell me, comrade, have you ever been in love?"</p> + +<p>Now, when Guido asked him that question, I expected to hear from Dante a +mocking answer, but instead, to my surprise, he sat quite still for a +little while, almost like a man in a trance, with his hands clasped +about his knees, and it seemed to me as if he were seeing, as indeed he +was seeing, things that we who were with him did not see and could not +see. After a while he spoke in a soft voice, and for the most part his +words came sharp and clear, like the words of a man that speaks in a +dream.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p><p>"Once, when I was still a child, I saw a child's face, a girl's face; it +lives in my memory as the face of an angel. It was a sunny morning, a +May morning, such a morning as this, one of those days that always make +one think of roses. I had a rose in my hand, and I was smelling at +it—and then I saw the child. She was younger than I—and I was very +young."</p> + +<p>Now, although I am a liberal lover of women, I have, I thank Heaven, +such a nature that any talk of love pleases me and interests me, and I +can listen to any lover with content. But this talk of children only +tickled me, and I turned to my comrade Guido, that was known to be a +very devoted swain to his lady, and that served her in song and honor +with all fidelity, and pointed Dante out to him now, as if laughing at +the radiant gaze on his face. "Look at the early lover, Guido," I said, +and laughed; but Messer Guido would not humor me by laughing too, and he +told me later that he never found a love-tale a thing to laugh at.</p> + +<p>Dante seemed neither to heed nor to be vexed at my mirth. "Laugh if you +like," he said, good-humoredly, "but I learned what love might mean +then, as I peeped over the red breast of the rose at the little maiden. +She was younger than I was; she had hair like woven sunlight, and her +wide eyes seemed to me bright with a better blue than heaven's. Oh, if I +had all the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>words in the world at my order, I could not truly tell you +all I thought then of that little child."</p> + +<p>Guido said very gravely, "A boy may have great thoughts." And he said no +more, but looked steadfastly upon the rapt countenance of Dante.</p> + +<p>Now by this time I was all afire with curiosity, for this strange talk +stirred me to wonder, and I entreated Messer Dante very zealously to +tell me who this child was. Dante went on as if he had not heard my +question, telling his tale in a measured voice. "She looked at me and +she looked at my red rose, and I felt suddenly as if that rose were the +most precious gift in the world, a gift for a god, and that I should +give it to her. I held out my hand to her with the rose in it, and she +took the flower, and her fingers touched my fingers as she took it. They +still thrill with the memory."</p> + +<p>As I have but just recorded, to my shame, I took all this story of our +friend's in a spirit of mockery. "O father Socrates," I cried, "listen +to the philosopher!" And then, because I was still burning with desire +for more knowledge in this strange business, I repeated my question. +"Who was she?"</p> + +<p>And this time Dante heeded me and answered me. "I do not know. I never +saw her again."</p> + +<p>Guido's amazement at this answer found speech. "You never saw her +again?" he questioned. "A girl in Florence?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p><p>And indeed it was a strange thing for our city, where one sees every one +every day.</p> + +<p>But Dante nodded. "It is strange, but so it is. I never saw her again. +That is nine years ago now."</p> + +<p>Guido's eyes were filled with a tender pity. Never before saw I true +lover so moved by a profession of true love. "Are you sure you ever +really saw her?" he questioned, somewhat sadly. "Are you sure that you +did not dream this wonder?"</p> + +<p>Dante showed no anger at this doubt, though indeed at other times he was +quick enough to take offence if he found just cause. But I guessed then +what I know since, that he found this matter at once so simple and so +sacred that nothing any man could say concerning it could in any way vex +him. So he answered very mildly, "Sometimes I almost doubt, but the +scent of a red rose on a May morning always brings her back to me."</p> + +<p>Now I grieve to record it, but the silly spirit of mockery within me had +so far infected my wits that I cried out in pretended astonishment, "O +marvellous fancy that can so ennoble a neighbor's brat!" The which was +very false and foolish of me, for I know well enough now, and knew very +well then, that love, while it lasts, can ennoble any child, maid, or +matron. Lord, the numbers of girls I have likened to Diana that were no +such matter, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>and the plump maids I have appraised as Venus, though, +indeed, they would have shown something clumsy if one had caught them +rising from the sea! But, as I say, Dante never heeded my jeers, and sat +there very quiet and silent, very much as if he had forgotten our +existence, and was thinking only of that gracious child he spoke of. And +I, my laughter being somewhat abashed by his gravity, and the edge of my +jest being blunted by his indifference, as well as by the reproof on +Guido's face, stood there awkwardly, not knowing whether to abide with +him or leave him, when there came, to break my embarrassment, the +presence of a mighty fair lady.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + +<h3>VITTORIA</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">he</span> +lady that now came toward us over the little bridge was one whose +acquaintance I could claim, and whose beauty I admired very greatly. +Madonna Vittoria Crescimbeni was a very fair lady that was generous of +her favors to those that were wealthy, and even to those that were not, +if they happened to take her fancy, as indeed I am pleased to recall. +She lived on the other side of Arno, in a gracious dwelling that had +been built for her by a great lord that had given her everything, except +his name, while he lived, and had died and left her a fortune. For all +that, she was a light child; she carried herself with much show of +discretion, and was only to be come at warily, as it were, and with +circumspection; and because of her abundance she was at no man's beck +and call, and could choose and refuse as it liked her. She was made +something full of figure, with a face like an ancient statue, which was +the less to be wondered at because her mother was a Greek; but her hair, +of which she had a mighty <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>quantity, was of that tawny red tincture that +is familiar to those that woo Venetian women. As for her mouth, it was +like flame, and her eyes were flames too, though of another hue, having +a greenish light in them that could delight or frighten as she pleased. +She went her ways in great state, having two small knavish blackamoor +pages in gold tissue at her heels, and a little ways off she was +followed by a brace of well-armed serving-rascals.</p> + +<p>For my own part, I was mightily pleased to see her, for though she was, +in the native ways of affairs, somewhat out of my star, still, as I +said, she was to show later that she had an eye for a pretty fellow and +owned a spirit above mere dross. I say no more. She seemed content +enough to see me, but still more content to see Messer Guido. This was +an experience in the ways of ladies with which those that walked with +Messer Guido were familiar. Every woman that saw him admired him highly. +So Vittoria smiled a little on me and a great deal on Messer Guido; and +as for Dante, she glanced at him slightly and gave him little heed, for +his habit was modest and his looks were not of a kind at once to tickle +the fancy of such as she. Yet Dante looked at her curiously, though +without ostentation, as one whose way it is instinctively to observe all +men and all women with an exceeding keenness and clearness of vision.</p> + +<p>Messer Guido greeted Madonna Vittoria very <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>courteously, as was ever his +way with women. Were they fair or plain-favored, chaste or gay, he was +ever their very gentle servant. And by this time Vittoria, being very +close to us, paused and gave us the greeting of the day; and her pages +came to a halt behind her, and her men-at-arms stood at ease a little +space away.</p> + +<p>The beautiful lady looked at us with a kind of wonder and a kind of +mockery in her dark eyes. And when she spoke to us her voice was +marvellously soft with a rich softness that made me, being then of a +very sensual disposition, think instantly of old wine and ripe fruit, +and darkened alcoves, and the wayward complaining of lutes. Indeed, +wherever Monna Vittoria went she seemed to carry with her an atmosphere +of subtle seclusion, of a cloistered lusciousness, of dim, green, +guarded gardens, where the sighs of love's novices are stifled by the +drip of stealthy fountains and the babble of fantastic birds. I suppose +it was no more than my fancy, or a trick of my memory confusing later +things with earlier, that makes me now, as I write, seem to recall what +seemed like a smile on the face of the pagan effigy of Love as Madonna +Vittoria swam into her company, as if the Greekish image recognized in +the woman a creature of the early days when cunning fingers fashioned +him. For, indeed, Vittoria was not modern in the sense that we +Florentines are modern. She derived from a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>world long dead and buried. +Heavens, how Messer Alcibiades would have admired her!</p> + +<p>"Good-morrow, gentle gentles," she began, in that caressing voice, "why +are you absent from the sacrifice?"</p> + +<p>Guido looked for the instant perplexed by the woman's words, and he +moved a little nearer to her. As for Dante, he seemed to have forgotten +us all, even to have forgotten his book, and though he had risen when +Monna Vittoria approached, he had by this time sunk onto the stone seat +again, and seemed drowned in a brown study.</p> + +<p>"What sacrifice, lady?" Guido asked of Vittoria; and whenever Guido +spoke to a woman, he spoke as if all the pleasures and destinies of the +world depended upon that one woman's interest and caprice.</p> + +<p>Madonna Vittoria smiled, self-satisfied, as all women smiled when Guido +so addressed them. "Why, the sacrifice of the pearl to the pig," she +answered; and she still smiled as she spoke, but there was a kind of +anger in her eyes. "The sacrifice of a clean child to a coarse churl, +the sacrifice of Folco Portinari's little Beatrice to my big Simone, +that I do not choose to lose."</p> + +<p>Here I broke in, laughing, for I took the drift of her meaning, and was +wishful to prove myself alert. "Most allegorical lady," I protested, "I +take you very clearly when you explain your own <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>fable." And I rubbed my +hands, instantly pleased with myself and my nimbleness.</p> + +<p>But Messer Guido still looked thoughtful. "If the ladies of Florence," +he said, slowly, "make Madonna Beatrice their May-queen, that dainty +deed does not deliver her to Simone of the Bardi."</p> + +<p>Madonna Vittoria turned upon him with a sharpness seldom seen on a +woman's face when it bent toward Messer Guido of the Cavalcanti. Her +smooth forehead wrinkled with an unfamiliar frown; her full lips seemed +to tighten and narrow to a red thread; her eyes were as a cat's eyes are +when the cat is very, very angry.</p> + +<p>"Who goes by her side," she asked, sourly, "as she goes through the +city?" And she answered her own question with a name. "Simone dei +Bardi." She went on: "Who is her father's faithful friend? Simone dei +Bardi." She glanced from one to the other of us—Messer Guido and I, I +mean, for Dante took no heed of her and she seemed to take no heed of +him. "I will tell you," she said, fiercely, "the trap is baited for the +prey, and, as things go, it seems as if I were like to lose my emerald, +that I can spare ill, as well as a husband, that I could spare very +readily were it not that I had a mind to marry him."</p> + +<p>Now at this there was a pause, and in a little while I turned to Dante, +thinking that it was high time he took a share in our parley.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p><p>"Is not," I said, "Monna Vittoria much to be pitied?"</p> + +<p>Being thus questioned, Dante seemed to shake himself free from his +lethargy, or his disdain, or whatever you may call it, and he answered +very indifferently, as one that speaks of another that is not present, +"I do not know the cause of her sorrow."</p> + +<p>Monna Vittoria turned to him now very directly and faced him, and there +was a kind of challenge in her carriage.</p> + +<p>"Messer Dante," she said, "if you know nothing of me, I know something +of you, for Messer Brunetto, your philosopher, is one of my very good +friends. I had this trinket of him a week ago." And as she spoke she +fingered an enamelled and jewelled pendant against her neck that must +have cost the scholar a merry penny. "Well, Messer Dante, you who are +young and of high spirit, would you have a queen of beauty married to a +king of beasts?"</p> + +<p>Dante shrugged his shoulders a little, feigning no interest in the +handsome creature that addressed him. "The alliance sounds unnatural," +he answered, carelessly, and looked as if he would be glad that the +matter should end.</p> + +<p>But Vittoria would not have it so. "Well, now," she said, "when all +Florence is luting and fluting for the queen of beauty, the king of +beasts walks warden by her side."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p><p>Still Dante showed no interest. "Who is this queen of beauty?" he asked, +listlessly. And when Guido made answer that she was Folco Portinari's +daughter Beatrice, he only shook his head a little and declared that he +did not know her.</p> + +<p>"She is new to Florence," I explained.</p> + +<p>And Vittoria went on. "I will give her this credit, that she is a comely +piece. Let us go and see the girl in her triumph." She addressed herself +directly to Guido, but she had an after-glance for me as well.</p> + +<p>Guido turned toward his new-made friend. "Will you come with us, Messer +Dante?" he asked.</p> + +<p>But Dante denied him. "Not I, by your leave," he replied. "I find folly +enough here in my book without tramping the highways to face it in its +pageant."</p> + +<p>Now I felt a little vexed at his churlishness, for Madonna Vittoria was +a lovely lady, and very pleasant company, and one worth obliging. So I +spoke to the others, saying, "Well, well, let us not starve because +Dante has no appetite." And therewith I caught a hand of Guido and a +hand of Vittoria, and made to lead them from the place. And they both +responded well enough to my summons.</p> + +<p>But Monna Vittoria checked me a little and paused, and spoke again to +Dante. "Farewell, Messer Dante," she said, sweetly. "Will you come visit +me one of these days?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p><p>But Dante, who had poked that hooked nose of his now in his book again, +shook his head and made her no very civil answer. "Madonna," he said, "I +have little money and less lust. God be with you."</p> + +<p>So, lapped in that mood, we left him, and went our ways toward the +Signory, and our Dante was soon out of sight, and, if truth be told, out +of mind.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> + +<h3>THE WORDS OF THE IMAGE</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">N</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">ow</span> +I proceed to tell under all caution what happened to our Dante, +sitting there alone in the shady angle of that sunny place, after we had +left him to go to the Signory. For, indeed, I did not see it, although I +heard it from his lips, that had the gift, even then, to make the +strangest things seem as real as, say, the door of a house. The tale was +so told, in such twists of thought and turns of phrase, that it might, +if you chose, be taken as an allegory or the vision of a dream; but, for +my own part, I prefer to believe that it came about just as I shall set +it down, for the world is merrier for a spice of the marvellous in its +composition, and, for myself, I could believe anything of that same +painted image.</p> + +<p>It seems, then, that when Dante was left alone he turned to his book +again, and set himself very resolutely to reading of the loves of +Lancelot and Guinevere, in the hope, most like, to still that stirring +of the spirit occasioned by our talk. And when the fall of our footsteps +and the babble of our <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>voices could be heard no more, he confessed that +at first he felt grateful for the silence and the peace. But of a sudden +it appeared to him that the silence was greater than there was any need +or reason for it to be, that it seemed to him as if all Florence held +its breath in the suspense of a great hush which lapped the world in its +embrace—such a hush as might perchance occur before the coming of Doom. +Then, after an interval that seemed too age-long to be endured, out of +the very core of the silence Dante heard a voice calling to him that he +had never heard before, and that spoke to him with such a sweet +imperiousness that he was as physically and spiritually bound to obey +and attend as ever Moses was on the holy hill. And the commanding voice +cried to him, "Dante, behold a deity stronger than thou, who comes to +govern thee."</p> + +<p>Then it seemed to Dante that at the sound of that voice his +consciousness returned to him, and, looking up from his book, he called +aloud, "Who speaks to me?" And as he spoke he saw, or thought he +saw—but I give it to you as he gave it to me—to his amazement, how the +painted image of the beautiful youth that stood above the fountain +seemed slowly to quicken into being, and how all the gaudy colors and +gilding of the figure seemed to soften to the exquisite and tender hues +of a life that was more marvellous than life. The hair of the youth was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>radiantly sunny, his cheeks flamed and paled with a divine white and +red, his perfect limbs and perfect body seemed moulded with such +exquisite rounded flesh as the immortal gods assumed long ago when they +deigned to descend from Olympus or appear in Cytherea, and speak to men +and love them. And the pagan boy that stood above the plashing fountain +lifted a hand toward Dante and parted his lips and spoke, and this was +what he said: "The God Love speaks to you, Dante, and to none but you. +Lift up your heart, for soon your happiness shall be made manifest unto +you."</p> + +<p>At this Dante, though, as he told me thereafter, he felt no fear, was +full of a great astonishment, and he strove to speak and could not for +an instant, and at last he cried out, "Must I believe you?" For it +seemed to him as if the image uttered the very voice of truth, but that +he, listening, rebelled against it.</p> + +<p>Then the beautiful, breathing boy, that had been the beautiful, silent +image, stretched out a hand to him in command, and said, "You that +denied me must now believe me, for henceforth I shall govern your soul."</p> + +<p>At these words Dante crossed himself, for all this seemed strange work +for commonplace Florence in full day, and he tried to repeat a prayer, +but wonderfully could remember none, and only his ears buzzed with the +words of all the love-songs he had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>ever heard, and he entreated, "Leave +me in peace." And as he spoke he stretched out his hands in supplication +to the quickened image.</p> + +<p>Now it is to be said that it seemed to Dante as if a kind of pale flame +appeared to blaze all about the living image, and to spread from him in +fine and delicate rays till it seemed to play on Dante's body and burn +through the armor of the flesh and lurk about his naked heart. And the +agony of that burning was beyond words, yet there was a kind of joy in +it that was beyond thought.</p> + +<p>And the God that was Love cried out again: "You pray in vain for peace +who shall ever be peaceless from this time forth. For the unavoidable +hour is at hand when you shall know my power. Farewell awhile." As the +figure spoke those last words it seemed slowly to stiffen into stone +again, and the beautiful, vital coloring faded away, and the pale, +leaping flames vanished, and Dante found himself sitting and staring at +the painted image above the lisping water that he had looked at unmoved +a thousand times, as he passed it going to and fro on his way through +the city.</p> + +<p>Dante rubbed his forehead and wondered. "I have been dreaming," he +murmured, "and the love-tale in the book colored my thoughts."</p> + +<p>Now, though all this vision, or whatever you may please to call it, +seemed brief enough, it took longer than the telling, for Messer Dante +told me <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>that the next thing he knew was that he heard my voice calling +to him. Wherefore, the most will probably say that Messer Dante had +fallen asleep in the heat of the day and dreamed a dream, but I do not +think so. Now, Guido and I and Monna Vittoria had gone on our ways to +the Signory, thinking to witness the crowning of the lady Beatrice of +the Portinari, but we had not travelled very far when we heard the noise +of many people mixed with the sound of music, and we knew that the +procession was coming our way and that the ceremony at the Signory was +over and done with. Then it seemed a shame to me that my friend should +lose all the pleasure, and I said I would go back for him, and Messer +Guido came with me because Monna Vittoria had found other friends and +stayed in speech with them. And when Guido and I came back to the place +where we had left Dante, I found him, as I say, seated upon the stone +seat. His closed book lay by his side, and he was staring straight +before him, as a man that is newly awakened from a trance. But I, taking +little notice of his state at the moment, ran toward him and clapped him +on the shoulder, calling to him: "They are moving this way!" I cried. +"Come and see!"</p> + +<p>But Dante did not seem to hear me, and sat gazing at that painted image +that was such an old friend of mine and his, as if he had never seen it +before. But presently, partly by persuasion, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>partly by pushing and +urging, we got him to turn from the statue and accompany us a little +ways till we came to a stand in the neighborhood of the Palace of the +Portinari, toward which the procession of the May-day was making its +way.</p> + +<p>The open space of the Piazza of the Santa Felicita was now pretty well +filled with the curious and the seekers for amusement, and all the air +was full of sweet noises, and all the smiling faces shone in the warm +sunlight. And Guido and I, piloting our Dante, pushed our way to the +inner circle of the loiterers, and paused there, waiting for the coming +of the merrymakers. And even as we paused the folk that we expected came +upon us. They were a gallant company of youths and maidens, dressed all +in their best and brightest, and there were excellent musicians with +them that made the most noble of cheerful music, and the comely girls +scattered flowers on the cobbles, and the comely youths laughed and +shouted, and in the midst of the throng a dozen of the strongest lads +were tugging at a chariot that carried a gilded throne, and on that +throne was seated Madonna Beatrice of the Portinari. She was dressed in +a robe of crimson silk, and she carried red roses in her hand, and I +think that all who looked upon her held her as the loveliest maid in all +Florence. I know that, for my part, I frankly admitted to myself that +none of the girls that I was in love with at that time could hold a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>candle to her. Yet I knew for my sins that I could never be in love +with Madonna Beatrice of the Portinari. Standing by her side was a big, +thick-set, fierce-looking man, with a shag of black hair and a black +beard like a spade, whom I knew well enough and whom all there knew well +enough to be Messer Simone dei Bardi, the man of whom Guido and I had +talked that morning. There was a great crowd behind the chariot, Reds +and many Yellows, seemingly at peace that day, friends of Guido, and +followers of Simone, and revellers of many kinds and townsfolk of many +classes. I could see that Monna Vittoria was in the thick of the crowd +that followed the Car of Triumph, and presently she made her way beneath +the shelter of the arcade, and stood there hard by one of the pillars, +watching the lady Beatrice on her throne and Simone dei Bardi keeping so +close beside her. And Simone, as I believe, had no knowledge of +Vittoria's presence.</p> + +<p>Now, when that brave company came into the place where we stood, Dante, +that had stood by our sides listlessly enough, turned away from us as +suddenly and sharply as if he had received an order. So he turned, and, +turning, he saw in full view the face of the lady Beatrice as she sat on +her car of triumph; and, at the sight of her, he gave a great cry, and +then stood silent and stiff as if spellbound.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p><p>Guido, delighted by the girl's beauty, cried to him, not looking at him, +"Is she not fair?"</p> + +<p>But I saw what strange case our Dante was in, and pulled at Guide's +sleeve and jerked his attention to my friend, saying, "Our Dante stands +at gaze as if he were sun-dazzled."</p> + +<p>Guido turned to Messer Dante and saw the rapture in his face, and, +seeing, questioned him. "Is she not fair?" he asked, and his glance +travelled again to where the May-queen sat.</p> + +<p>And Dante answered him, speaking very slowly, as a man might speak in +some sweet sleep when he dreamed a dear dream, "She is the loveliest +woman in the world." He paused for a moment, and then added, in a lower +tone, "She is the child I worshipped."</p> + +<p>Now, I could plainly read amazement and doubt on Messer Guido's face +when he heard Dante speak thus strangely, and he caught at his arm and +shook it a little gently, as one would do that wishes to wake a sleeping +man. "You are dreaming, for sure," he said.</p> + +<p>But Dante only answered him very quietly, still keeping his rapturous +face fixed on the girl as she and her company came nearer. "She is the +lady of my dreams."</p> + +<p>Now I, that was glancing in much bewilderment from Dante, where he stood +at gaze so radiant, to the fair girl on her gilded car, saw, or thought +I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>saw, all of a sudden, a look in the girl's eyes that betokened more +knowledge of Dante than merely the knowledge that a man stood in the +roadway and stared at her beauty. So I whispered to Guido in his ear, +"See, she seems to note him, and, as I think, with recognition."</p> + +<p>Now, even as I said this, the little company that carried the Queen of +Beauty came to a halt some yards from the gate of the gray palace, and +Messer Simone dei Bardi, quitting the side of her chariot, advanced +toward the Palace of the Portinari to give the formal summons that the +Queen of May demanded admittance, all of which was part and parcel of +the ceremonial of the pretty sport. At the same instant Dante, quitting +Guido's side, advanced a little nearer to the girl, who did not descend +from her chair, but sat still in her chariot as if waiting for his +coming, and the little crowd of juvenals about her fluttered aside +before his resolute advance, and I thought even then how strong his +young face looked, and how purposeful, for all his youth, that grim nose +of his and the steady eyes above it, in contrast with the pink-and-white +prettiness of the many slim lads that were the Queen of Beauty's +satellites.</p> + +<p>And Dante raised his voice and called to the girl as a friend calls to a +friend: "Give me a rose for my rose, madonna! Give me a rose for my +rose!"</p> + +<p>Now the girl, as she sat, had in her lap a great <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>quantity of roses +exceedingly red and large, and she took up one of these in answer to the +call and cast it through the air to Dante, who caught it as it fell, +and, catching it, lifted it to his lips with his eyes fixed on the girl. +Then, whether because of his action or the eagerness of his gaze above +the crimson petals I know not, but Madonna Beatrice flushed a little, +and she gathered the rest of her roses into her arms and rose from her +chair, and descended from her chariot and mounted the steps of the great +house, whose doors had now opened to Simone's summons. Messer Folco of +the Portinari stood smiling on his threshold, but Messer Simone, by his +side, was not smiling, for he had seen that pretty business of the given +rose, and I could note that its prettiness pleased him little. I think +he would have stepped down then and there and eased his spleen, but +Messer Folco, as his way was ever, wished to improve the occasion by +making a speech.</p> + +<p>"Friends and neighbors," he began, in his ample, affable voice, +"Florentines all, in my daughter's name, and for my own sake, I thank +you." Thereat there came a little cheer from the crowd, and then Folco +turned toward his daughter, plainly very proud of her, but still +flagrantly paternal and pompous.</p> + +<p>"Come, child," he said, solemnly. "Come, you have been queen for a day, +but your reign is over, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>and you are no more now than honest goodman +Folco's daughter. Get you within." Then Madonna Beatrice she paused for +a moment with two of her girl friends by her side and looked down upon +her company very graciously and sweetly, and wished them farewell. Then +the door of the palace opened and swallowed her up with her two +companions, and when she had gone it seemed to us watching as if the +sunshine had gone with her, though the street was still flooded with its +light.</p> + +<p>Then Messer Folco spoke again to the multitude, saying that there would +be simple cheer and sport provided in his gardens that lay in the +meadow-land on the other side of Arno for such as chose to go so far, at +which his hearers cheered again, and made all speed to take him at his +word and hurry away over the bridge. Thereafter Messer Folco turned to +Messer Simone, as if inviting him to enter.</p> + +<p>But Messer Simone shook his head. "Later, Messer Folco," I heard him +say, "later; I have some busy hours before me." Then Messer Folco, +acquiescing, entered his great house, and its great doors closed behind +him, and those that were conveying the car wheeled it about and pulled +it away, returning on the road by which they had come, and by this time +most of the revellers had departed over bridge.</p> + +<p>Guido and I, that were not tempted to travel so far as Messer Folco's +river gardens, turning to our <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>companion, noted that Dante was standing +entranced with his eyes fixed upon his rose, and I heard him murmur to +himself, "O wonderful world, that can boast of so wonderful a woman!"</p> + +<p>Now, when I say that all of Madonna Beatrice's escort had gone from +there, I mean that the gay youths and maidens had departed, but Messer +Simone dei Bardi had remained behind, leaning against the wall of the +house with his arms folded and an evil smile on his face.</p> + +<p>Messer Simone's own followers, seeing him, lingered, waiting upon his +pleasure, and though most of the May-day merrymakers had disappeared, +there were not a few idlers and passers-by.</p> + +<p>There were a certain number of Messer Guido's friends there, too, that +had joined him in the procession, and that now lingered in the hope to +bear him with them to some merriment more to their liking than Messer +Folco's transpontine hospitality. So that the open place was far from +empty for all its bigness.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> + +<h3>ONE WAY WITH A QUARREL</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">N</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">ow</span> +when the door had shut upon Beatrice, Messer Simone shook himself +from the wall and advanced with a steady, heavy stride to where Dante +stood lost in contemplation of his rose, and I thought he looked like +some ugly giant out of a fairy-tale, and his sullen eyes were full of +mischief. He came hard by Messer Dante, and spoke to him roughly. "I do +not care to see you and that flower in fellowship."</p> + +<p>Now both Guido and I feared that this might breed a quarrel, so we +lingered, and Messer Simone's people drew together, watching their lord, +and some that were passing paused to note what was toward. But Messer +Dante lifted his head very quietly, and looked calmly into Simone's +angry face and spoke him seemingly fair. "The world is wide, friend," he +said, very smoothly; "you have but to turn the corner, and I and my +flower will no longer vex your vision."</p> + +<p>But Simone was not to be so put off. "I have a mind to wear that rose +myself," he said, savagely, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>and he came a little nearer to Dante as he +spoke, and his followers dogged his advance, ready to obey his orders.</p> + +<p>He looked so big and so strong and so brutal by the side of our friend +that I was ill at ease, for I knew well what a truculent ruffian this +Simone was.</p> + +<p>But Dante seemed to be no more troubled than he would have been by the +buzzing of a wasp. "Then you had better change your mind speedily," he +answered, in an even voice, "lest being crossed in a peevish whim sour +your blood."</p> + +<p>Now, the being spoken to so sweetly, and yet with words that had so +little of sweetness in them and no fear at all, teased Messer Simone's +black blood till it bubbled like boiling pitch, and his voice had got a +kind of silly scream in it, as he cried: "Why, you damnable reader of +books, you pitiful clerk, do you think I will bandy words with you? Give +me that rose instantly, or I will cut out your heart and eat it!"</p> + +<p>Dante was still unruffled, and answered him very suavely, "If you cut +out my heart you would still find the rose in it and the name of earth's +loveliest lady."</p> + +<p>Now at this Messer Simone's face showed as red as an old roof-tile, and +his voice was hoarse with anger as he called, furiously, "Give me the +flower!"</p> + +<p>For a breathing while Dante made him no answer, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>while he gathered the +rose carefully together in the cup of his hand and then slipped it into +his bosom. Then he spoke to Simone with a grave impatience. "You are a +boisterous braggart, and you scream like the east wind. I am very weary +of you."</p> + +<p>Simone slapped his big hand to the hilt of his sword. "Patter an Ave +quickly," he growled, "ere I slay you with the sight of a drawn sword."</p> + +<p>It was such a menace as might have fretted many a man that was brave +enough, for Simone was out of the common tall and strong, but it fretted +our Dante no whit, and he only smiled derisively at the giant.</p> + +<p>By this time the brawl—for such it was proving to be—had begun to +attract public notice, and those that walked halted to watch the +altercation between the big man and the slim youth. I caught a glimpse +of Monna Vittoria beneath the arcade, and saw amusement on her face and +wonder, and some scorn of Simone and much admiration of Dante. But I had +no time to concern myself with Vittoria, for now Messer Simone's fingers +were gripping at the hilt of his weapon, but he did no more than grip +the hilt of it. Indeed, I do not think that he would have drawn on an +unarmed man, and very likely he meant no more than to frighten the +scholar. If this were Messer Simone's purpose, it was frankly baffled by +the fact that Dante did not seem to be frightened at all, but just stood +his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>ground and watched his adversary with a light of quiet amusement in +his eyes that was very exasperating to Simone. The whole quarrel had +kindled and thriven so quickly that Messer Guido, who was standing apart +and talking with certain of his friends, had as yet no knowledge of it, +but now I moved to him and plucked him by the sleeve and told him what +was toward. In truth, I felt no small alarm for my friend, for I knew +him to have no more than that passable facility with the sword which is +essential to gentility. Then Messer Guido turned and came with me, and +his friends followed him, and our numbers added to the circle that was +forming about the disputants. So now, while Messer Simone was still +angrily handling his sword-hilt, and while the smile still lingered on +Dante's lips, Messer Guido stepped nimbly between the two, being eager +to keep the peace for the sake of his new-made friend that seemed so +slight a thing by the side of Simone.</p> + +<p>"How now!" Guido cried, aloud. "I hear shrill words that seem to squeak +of weapons. What is your quarrel, gentles?"</p> + +<p>If every man there present knew who Messer Simone of the Bardi was and +what he stood for in Florence, so also every man there present knew who +Messer Guido of the Cavalcanti was and what he stood for, and there were +few that would have denied him the right to speak his mind or <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>to +question the cause of the quarrel. So Messer Guido stood between Dante +and Simone, looking from one to the other of the pair and waiting for +his answer.</p> + +<p>Dante answered in a kind of ironic simplicity, and he seemed to me as I +looked upon him like a man exalted out of all reason by some great joy. +"It is but a gardener's wrangle—how best to guard roses from slugs."</p> + +<p>Simone began to frown upon the brawl that himself had caused, and he +looked toward Messer Guido, whom he knew, with a forced show of +friendliness, and spoke with a gruff assumption of good-humor. "Messer +Guido, will you tell this blockhead who I am?"</p> + +<p>Now, Guido was as good a swordsman as the best man in Florence, and far +better than the most that handled steel, and he thought and spoke in the +wish to protect his new-made friend, whom he took to have no such skill +as his own.</p> + +<p>"Gently, gently," he said to Simone, and his tone was by no means +gentle. "My friend's name is my name, and I take terms from no man. You +will answer me now." And as he spoke he placed his hand upon his hilt, +and made ready to draw.</p> + +<p>Now at this Simone frowned again, for he had no personal quarrel with +Messer Guido Cavalcanti, yet from the very bullness of his nature he +would take <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>a dare from no man. So he showed his teeth and eased his +blade to make ready.</p> + +<p>But Dante moved swiftly forward and pulled Messer Guido from between him +and Messer Simone, doing this with a courtesy due to one of Messer +Guido's standing, yet with a very plain decision. "Messer Guido," he +said, "I entreat you to refrain. I guess your purpose, but I will not +have it so. This is my quarrel, and, believe me, I can handle it."</p> + +<p>Guido plucked him a little apart, and whispered him hurriedly. "This is +Simone of the Bardi, a very notable soldier," he said.</p> + +<p>I heard Dante answer him very calmly. "Were he a very notable devil, I +would stand to him enough."</p> + +<p>By this time Messer Simone was in such a black rage at being thwarted +that he cared not what might come of it, and he called out to Dante, in +a bellowing voice, "Come, sir, come! Will you fight or yield?"</p> + +<p>Messer Dante's carriage showed very plainly that he would not yield; of +a contrary, he moved composedly a little nearer to Simone, still smiling +and stretching out his hands as he went, as if to show that he held no +weapon. "Surely I will not yield," he said; and then questioned, "But +how shall I fight, being swordless?"</p> + +<p>Simone grinned hideously at him. "You should <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>have remembered that," he +said, "before you chose to play hufty-dufty." Then he scowled and +pointed to the armed men about them. "Some one will lend you a sword if +you have the courage to hold it," he said, scornfully.</p> + +<p>Once again Messer Guido intervened, eagerly, passionately. "For God's +sake, forbear," he entreated Dante, and thrusting himself against the +other. "Messer Simone," he said, "you cannot deny me if I take up this +quarrel."</p> + +<p>My Dante laid an arresting hand upon Messer Guido's arm. "Gently, Messer +Guido," he said, "you are too good, and if I were a woman I could not +choose a nobler champion. But being no better than a man, I must even +champion myself to the best of my wit." He paused, and his eyes followed +the course of Simone's gaze and then came back to Simone. "You are a +soldier," he said; "it is your business to kill. You prize the life of +other men lightly; 'tis but a puff of your heavy breath and out goes his +candle. I am no such butcher, and though I am not unskilled in arms, we +should be ill-matched, you and I." And as he spoke he laughed softly, as +at some jest known only to himself.</p> + +<p>Now Messer Guido, that was growing very angry, as I could see from the +way in which the color quitted his cheeks, thrust himself in front of +Dante, and he spoke to Simone boldly. "He says rightly," <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>he cried. "A +stripling against your bulk. It were murder."</p> + +<p>Simone always addressed Messer Guido with as much courtesy as he could +compass, for the sake of his great house and his great friends, and his +standing with the Reds, that was as high as his own with the Yellows. +"Then he should not steal roses," he answered, quietly enough. But +immediately thereafter, as if the mention of roses had stirred him to +fury, his wrath foamed over again, and, turning to Dante, he shouted, +"Give me the rose, you cowardly clerk, or I will pinch out your life +between finger and thumb!" He held out his huge hand as he spoke, and to +those who looked at it, or to me, at least, among the multitude, it +seemed easy enough for him to carry out his threat, for Messer Dante +looked so slight and spare in the front of such a ruffian.</p> + +<p>But Messer Dante was in no ways discomposed, and he still kept smiling +while he shook his head, and he answered very quietly: "Idle giant, you +will do no such thing. For if you prize my life very little, you prize +your own life very well. Now, while I think nothing of your life, I also +think nothing of my own, and would rather end it here in this instant +than surrender this flower. Why, I would see a hundred fellows like you +dead and damned to save a single petal of it from the pollution of such +filthy fingers." He paused for a moment and paid <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>Messer Simone the +tribute of a mocking inclination of the head. Then he spoke very clearly +and sweetly. "I hope I make myself clear to your thick head."</p> + +<p>Simone's red face grew redder. "By Paul's jaws, I will wring your +squeaking neck!" he said, savagely, and made a move nearer to Dante.</p> + +<p>But here Guido's paling face grew paler, and again he thrust himself +between Dante and Simone, and his sword flashed into the air. "By Paul's +jaws, you will not!" he cried; and then looking about him, he shouted, +"A Cavalcanti! a Cavalcanti!"</p> + +<p>At that cry all those that inclined to Messer Guido, and there were many +in the place, bared their swords likewise and rallied about him in an +eager press of angry men.</p> + +<p>When Simone saw that the swords were out, he drew his own sword and +raised it aloft and cried his cry, "A Bardi! a Bardi!"</p> + +<p>Then the people of his following bared their weapons and gathered to his +side, and such of the spectators as took no part in the quarrel drew a +little apart, for fear they might come to harm in the brawl, but still +went not very far, so eager is the curiosity of all Florentines to see +sights. So the folk stood, two little armies of fighting men facing each +other, as Greek and Trojan faced each other long ago, and ready for +fighting, as Greek and Trojan fought, and as men always will fight with +men, for the sake of a woman. And I, with my sword <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>drawn, being never +so intent upon battle that I have not an eye to all things about me, +could see, looking aloft, that a curtain was drawn from a window in the +great house of the Portinari, and that a woman stood by the window, and +I made sure that the woman's name was Beatrice.</p> + +<p>But this Dante saw not and knew not, for he stood between the two +opposing forces very composedly, with the same quiet smile upon his +face, and he held up his hands toward either party as a man might do +that wished to sunder and pacify quarrelling children. "Gently, friends, +gently," he said; "there is a pleasant way to end this dilemma." Then he +turned to me, and I never saw his face serener. "Friend Lappo," he said, +"will you lend me your dice-bones a minute?"</p> + +<p>It was characteristic of his readiness in the pinch of emergency that he +knew where to apply for what he needed, for I was at that time a most +inveterate gamester, and loved to stake my all, which for the most part +was truly little enough, upon the toss of a die; and for my greater ease +in this exercise, I ever carried the bones with me in a little inner +pocket at my breast. Now, then, for Dante's pleasure, though indeed I +did not know what he would be at, I lugged them out of their +concealment, and dropped the three, one after the other, into his open +palm, which he held to me extended there as steady as the palm of a +stone image.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p><p>Dante laughed a little softly to himself as he looked at my dice where +they lay, and indeed it was curious to see him and them in such close +companionship, for Dante had no taste for those gamblers' games that I +delighted in. Then he turned and showed the dice to Simone, who stared +at him in amazed rage, and he spoke very pleasantly and evenly as he +dandled the tools of chance. "Messer Simone," he said, "here be three +cubes of bone that shall settle our quarrel better than shearing steel. +We will throw on this ground here, you and I in turn, and he that has +the ill-fortune to make the lowest cast shall, on his honor, very +presently kill himself."</p> + +<p>At this drolling challenge most of the spectators began to laugh, and +the laughter ran through the ranks of Cavalcanti's adherents, and even +found some echo, albeit soon stifled, among Bardi's men.</p> + +<p>But Simone saw no laughter in the matter. "You are a fool!" he fumed. It +was plain that he felt himself to be at a disadvantage before the +gravity of Dante's disdainful courage, and that he was better with blows +than with words. "You are a fool!" he repeated.</p> + +<p>But Dante denied him. "I am wise." Then he moved his head a little this +way and that, as if to show that he was addressing all his audience, +and, indeed, there was not a man in all that assemblage that did not +listen to him intently, Simone's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>own following not excepted. "Fellow +Florentines," he said, "here is a straight challenge. It equals the big +man with the little; it fills me to the giant's girth and inches. It +saves him from shame if he wins, for it were little to his credit to +kill a civilian. It denies me if I win the vainglory of overcoming a +Titan. Is not this an honest dare?"</p> + +<p>As he finished speaking he looked about him, and saw sympathy and +approval on the faces of most. As for me, I was so taken with his +ingenuity and his insolence in thus braving the big fellow that I cried +aloud, "Well dared; well done." And Guido called out sharply, addressing +the Bardi, "Do you take him, Messer Simone? I will be surety for his +pledge."</p> + +<p>As Messer Guido dei Cavalcanti ended there went up a great shout of +applause from the spectators, who were tickled with the thought of +witnessing so new a way of ending a quarrel. While they were clapping +their hands and laughing, a cunning, sharp-faced fellow named Maleotti, +that was one of Bardi's men, came close to his master, and spoke to him +in none so low a whisper that I could not hear his words. "Consider, +signor," he said; "this were a mad wager to accept, for the State cannot +spare you, and who can say how scraps of bone may fall? Yet, if you +refuse and force a quarrel, the Cavalcanti outnumber us." As he spoke he +indicated with quick glances of his evil <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>eyes that there were indeed +many more in the place that seemed to side with Guido than friends to +the Bardi.</p> + +<p>While Messer Simone, seeing this, sucked his lips like one puzzled, +Dante again addressed him in the same bantering manner. "Come," he +cried, "'tis but a toss of three ivories and the world is lighter by one +of us, and purgatory the more populous. You shall toss first or last, as +you please." As he spoke he shook the dice invitingly on his extended +palm, and laughed as he did so.</p> + +<p>Simone answered him with a great frown and a great voice. "You should +have been a mountebank and cried cures on a booth, for your wit is as +nimble as an apothecary's flea. But if you have any man's blood in you, +you will make such friends with master sword that hereafter we may talk +to better purpose. Come, friends." So, with a scowling face, Messer +Simone jammed his sword back again into its scabbard, and he and his +fellows went away roughly, and the crowd parted very respectfully before +them.</p> + +<p>At the wish of Messer Guido, his friends and sympathizers went their +ways; and as for the crowd of unconcerned spectators, they, +understanding that there was nothing more to stare at, went their ways +too, and in a little while the place that had been so full and busy was +empty and idle, and Guido and I were left alone with Dante.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p><p>As we stood there in silence, Madonna Vittoria came forward from her +shelter under the arcade and advanced to Dante, and addressed him. "Give +me leave," she said, "to tell you that you are a man whose love any +woman might be proud to wear. Beware of Simone dei Bardi. I know +something of him. He is neither clever enough to forget nor generous +enough to forgive. Remember, if you care to remember, that I am always +your friend."</p> + +<p>Dante saluted her. "I thank you," he said, in a dull, tired voice.</p> + +<p>Then Madonna Vittoria went her way over the bridge with her people after +her, and when she was gone I made bold to go up to where Dante stood +thoughtful, and clapped him on the back in very hearty commendation of +his courage and daring. "You have bubbled Simone well," I said, +joyously.</p> + +<p>But, to my surprise, Dante turned to me with a face that was not at all +joyous. "I think he had the best of me in the end," he said, sadly. And +as he spoke he hung his head for all the world like a schoolboy that had +been reproved before his class.</p> + +<p>Messer Guido, that was as tender to melancholy as a gentlewoman, caught +him by the hand. "Are you teased by that fellow's taunt?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Dante sighed, as he answered: "To the quick of my heart. Will you leave +me, friends, to my thoughts?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> + +<h3>LOVER AND LASS</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">I</span><span style="margin-left:0%;"> </span> +sighed in my turn to see him so perverse who had been so triumphant. +"He is as humorous as a chameleon," I protested. Then Guido and I took +Dante by the arms to lead him away, I applauding him for his cunning, +and Guido gently reproving him for his foolhardiness in getting into a +quarrel with such a man of might as Messer Simone—had got him and us +some few yards from the scene of the scuffle when Dante suddenly came to +a halt and would budge no farther. When we asked him what ailed him, he +told us that he had left his book behind him, the book that he had been +so deep in a little while ago; and for all we could say to him, he would +not be prevailed upon, but must needs return for his precious love-tale. +So he quitted us and returned on his steps, and Guido and I looked at +each other in some amusement, thinking what a strange fellow our Dante +was, that could play scholar and lover and soldier in so many breaths, +and could show so much care for some pages of written parchment. Then +Guido would have me <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>go with him, but I was of a mind to see what Dante +would do next, and was fain to watch him. Guido disapproved of this, and +he would not share in it, saying that it was not for us to dog the heels +of a friend.</p> + +<p>Guido went his way without me, for it seemed to me less scrupulous and +seeking only to be amused that one who had done so much in a short time +might well be counted upon to do more. I hid in the arcade, and I saw +how Dante went straight to the seat where he had left his book, and +found it still lying there, and took it up and thrust it into his bosom. +And when he had done this he turned and went like one that walked in a +dream—and I spying on him from my hiding-place—till he came to the +front of the Palace of the Portinari, and there he paused and gazed +wistfully at the gray walls. And I, concealing myself behind a +convenient pillar of the colonnade, observed him unseen, and presently +saw how the small door in the great door of the gray palace opened, and +how Madonna Beatrice came out of it, followed by two girls, her +companions. They both were pretty girls, I remember, that would have +suited my taste very pleasantly. All three maidens stood on top of the +steps looking at Dante where he stood, and Dante remained in his place +and looked up at them silently and eagerly.</p> + +<p>Madonna Beatrice seemed to hesitate for a moment, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>and then, quitting +her companions, descended the steps and advanced toward Dante, who, +seeing her purpose, advanced in his turn toward her, and they met in the +middle of the now deserted square. I was very honestly—or dishonestly, +which you may please—anxious to hear what these two might say to each +other, so I lingered in my lurking-place, and there I lay at watch and +strove to listen. And because the time was very peaceful, and I very +quiet and the air very still and their young voices very clear, I could +hear much and guess more, and piecing out the certain with the probable, +record in my memory this delicate dialogue.</p> + +<p>Madonna Beatrice spoke first, for Dante said nothing, and only gazed at +her as the devout gaze at the picture of a saint, and there was some +note of reproof in her voice as she spoke. "Messer," she said, "they +tell me that you have fought for a rose."</p> + +<p>Then Dante shook his head, and he smiled as he answered, blithely, +"Madonna, I fought for my flag, for my honor, for the glory of the +sempiternal rose."</p> + +<p>Beatrice looked at him with a little wonder on her sweet face. "Was it +very wise to risk a man's life for a trifle?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Dante was silent for a short time, then he said: "There are trifles that +outweigh the world in a true balance. I would die a death for every +petal of that rose."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p><p>Beatrice began to laugh very daintily, and spread out her pretty palms. +"This Florence is a very nest of nightingales," she said, softly; and +then she added, quaintly, "You talk like a poet."</p> + +<p>I heard Dante sigh heavily as he answered her fancy. "I would I were a +poet, for then my worship would have words which now shines dumbly in my +eyes."</p> + +<p>Beatrice gave him a little mocking salutation. "You are very gallant," +she said. "Farewell." There was a hint of reproof in her voice, and she +made as if to go.</p> + +<p>But Dante stopped her. "Stay, lady, stay," he protested. "I speak with a +simple heart. I have been your servant ever since you took a rose from +my hands. I am your servant forever, now that you have given me a rose. +We are old friends, sweet lady, though we wear young faces, and friends +may speak their minds to friends."</p> + +<p>Then Beatrice asked him, "Who are you who risked your life for my rose?"</p> + +<p>Dante answered her: "I am named Dante Alighieri. Yesterday I was nobody. +To-day I would not change places with the Emperor, since I declare +myself your servant."</p> + +<p>Beatrice smiled a smile of sweet content, and I could see that she was +both amused and pleased. "I am glad we are old friends," she said, "for +so it was not unmaidenly of me to speak to you, but <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>indeed I was +grieved to think I had put you in peril. I did not think what I did when +I threw you that flower. I only felt that we were children again, you +and I. Forgive me."</p> + +<p>"It was a happy peril," Dante declared, gladly.</p> + +<p>Again Beatrice said him farewell and turned to go, and again Dante +stayed her, and when she had paused he looked as if he knew not what to +say; but at last he questioned, "When may we meet again?"</p> + +<p>Beatrice answered him gravely. "Florence is not so wide a world that you +should fear to lose sight of a friend."</p> + +<p>Once more she made as if she would join her companion maidens, but as +she did so Dante looked all about him with an air of great surprise, and +I heard him say: "How dark the air grows. I fear an eclipse."</p> + +<p>Beatrice, pausing in her path, cried to him, marvelling, "Why, the sun +is at its brightest."</p> + +<p>Dante shook his head. "I do not find it so when you are leaving me."</p> + +<p>Then I think that Beatrice looked half alarmed and half diverted at the +way of Dante's speech, and I heard her say, "Is not the spring of our +friendship something too raw for such ripeness of compliment?"</p> + +<p>Dante persisted. "I would speak simpler and straighter if I dared."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p><p>Then Beatrice shook her head and tried to wear an air of severity, but +failed because she could not help smiling. "The arrows of your wit must +not take me for their target," she said, and made a pretence to frown.</p> + +<p>Then Dante, at a loss what to say, made the best plea he could when he +pleaded, "Pity me."</p> + +<p>At that cry the growing gravity on the girl's face softened to her +familiar gentleness, for she was touched, as all women who are worthy of +womanhood must be touched by that divine appeal. "Are you in need of +pity?" she said, softly.</p> + +<p>And Dante answered, instantly, "Neck-deep in need."</p> + +<p>Then he sighed and Beatrice sighed, and she said, very kindly, "In that +case, I pity you," and made again to leave him, and again the appeal in +his eyes stayed her.</p> + +<p>"Can you do no more than pity me?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Beatrice was smiling now, for all she strove to be serious. "Why, you +are for a greedy garner; you want flower, fruit, and all, in a breath."</p> + +<p>I could see Messer Dante's face suddenly stiffen into solemnity; I could +hear Messer Dante's voice, for all its youthful freshness, take upon it +the gravity of age. "For nine years, day in and day out, I have thought +of you," he sighed. "Have you ever thought of me?"</p> + +<p>He looked steadfastly at the girl as he spoke, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>and if there was much of +entreaty in his question there was something of command also, as if he +chose to compel her to tell him the very truth. And the girl answered, +indeed, as if she were compelled to speak and could not deny him, and +her cheeks were as pink as the earliest roses as she answered him: +"Sometimes."</p> + +<p>Again Dante spoke and questioned her, and again in his carriage and in +his voice there was that same note of command. "With what thoughts?"</p> + +<p>But I could plainly see that if our Dante would seek to give orders to +the girl with an authority that was beyond his years, the girl could +meet his assumption of domination with a composure that was partly grave +and partly humorous and wholly adorable.</p> + +<p>She nodded very pleasantly at him as she answered, "Kind thoughts for +the gentle child who gave his rose to a little girl."</p> + +<p>I knew very well, as I leaned and listened, that the mind of Dante +leaped back on that instant to the day he had told us of so little a +while before, the day nine years ago when, as the sweet lady said, he +gave his rose to a little girl. I knew, too, that the chance meeting +with Madonna Beatrice on this fair morning must in some mighty fashion +alter the life of my friend. The fantastic love which he, a child of +nine, felt or professed to feel for the little girl of a like age was +now, through this accident, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>setting his soul and body on fire and +forcing him to say wild words, as a little while back it had forced him +to do wild deeds, out of the very exhilaration of madness. And Dante +spoke as all lovers speak when they wish to touch the hearts of their +ladies, only making me who was listening not a little jealous, seeing +that he spoke better than most that I knew of.</p> + +<p>"Madonna," he said, "Madonna, the lover-poets of our city are very +prodigal of protestations—what will they not do for their lady? They +offer her the sun, moon, and stars for her playthings—and in the end +she is fortunate if she gets so much as a farthing rushlight to burn at +her shrine."</p> + +<p>Beatrice was listening to him with the bright smile upon her face which +for me was the best part of a beauty that, if I had been in Dante's +place, I should have found a thought too seraphic and unearthly for my +fancy.</p> + +<p>"My heart," she assured him, "would never be touched by such sounding +phrases."</p> + +<p>Now Dante's face glowed with the fire that was in him, and his words +seemed to glow as he spoke like gold coins dropping new-moulded from the +mint. "I am no god to give you a god's gifts," he protested. "But of +what a plain man may proffer from the heart of his heart and the soul of +his soul, say, is there any gift I can give you in sign of my service?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p><p>The bright smile on the face of Beatrice changed to a gracious air of +thoughtfulness, and I think I should have been glad had I been wooing a +woman in such fashion to have seen such a look on the face of my fair. +"Messer Dante," she said, "you have some right to be familiar with me, +for you risked your life for my rose. So I will answer your frankness +frankly. Men have tried to please me and failed, for I think I am not +easy to please greatly."</p> + +<p>Dante stretched out both his hands to her. "Let me try to please you!" +he cried.</p> + +<p>The girl answered him, speaking very slowly, as if she were carefully +turning her thoughts into words and weighing her words while she uttered +them. "That is in your own hands. I do not cry for the sun and stars and +the shining impossibilities. But I am a woman, and if a man did brave +deeds (and by brave deeds I do not mean risking two souls for the sake +of a rose) or good deeds (and by good deeds I do not mean the rhyming of +pretty rhymes in my honor), and did them for love of me, why, I have so +much of my grandmother Eve in me that I believe I should be pleased."</p> + +<p>I saw Dante draw himself up as a soldier might in the ranks when he saw +his general riding by and thought that the rider's eye was upon him. +"With God's help," he vowed, "you shall hear better things of me."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p><p>There was a look of such fine kindness on Beatrice's face while he spoke +thus as made even me, that am a man of common clay, and like love as I +like wine and victuals, thrill in my hiding-place. "I hope as much," she +said, softly—"almost believe as much. But I linger too long, and my +comrades wonder. Farewell."</p> + +<p>She gave him an enchanting salutation, and Dante bowed his head. +"Farewell, most fair lady," he murmured.</p> + +<p>Then Beatrice moved away from him, and ascended the steps where the two +girls stood and waited for her, and she laid her white finger on the +ring of brass that governed the lock of the little door, and the little +door opened and she passed into the gray palace, she and her maids, and +to me too, as I am very sure to Dante, the world seemed in a twinkling +robbed of its sweetness. For though, as I have said, Madonna Beatrice +was never a woman for me to love, I could well believe that to the man +who loved her there could be no woman else on the whole wide earth, +which, as I think, is an uncomfortable form of loving.</p> + +<p>When she had gone Dante stood there very silent for a while, and it may +be that I, tired of watching him, drifted into a doze, and leaned there +for a while against my sheltering pillar with closed lids, as sometimes +happens to men that are weary of waiting. If this were so, it would +explain why <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>I did not see what seems to have happened then—or perhaps +it was because I was of a temper and composition less fine than my +friend's that I was not permitted to see such sights. But it appears, as +I learned from his lips later, that as he stood there in all the ecstacy +of his sweet intercourse with the well-beloved, the painted image of the +God of Love that stood beside the bridge, above the fountain, came to +life again, and moved and came in front of Dante and looked upon him +very searchingly. The God of Love lifted the hand that carried his +fateful arrow and pointed with the dart toward the gray palace, and it +spoke to Dante in a voice of command, and said, "Behold thy heart." Then +Dante felt no fear such as he had felt at the first appearance of the +God of Love, but only an almost intolerable sense of joy at the glory +and the beauty and the divinity of true and noble love. And he said to +himself, as if he whispered a prayer, "O Blessed Beatrice," and +therewith the figure of the God of Love departed back to its familiar +place.</p> + +<p>If I had, indeed, been dozing, my sleep lasted no longer than this, and +I was conscious again, and saw Dante, and I leaped from my hiding-place +and ran to where Dante stood alone in the square, with his hands against +his face. I called to him, as I came up, "Dante, are you drowned in a +wonder?" and at the sound of my voice Dante plucked the fingers <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>from +his face and stared at me vacantly, as if he did not know me. This gaze +of ignorance lasted, it may be, for the better part of a minute.</p> + +<p>Then Dante, seeming to recognize me, all of a sudden drew me toward him +and spoke as a man speaks that tells strange truths truly. "Friend," he +said, "you are well met, for you see me now as I am who will never see +me again as I was. I am become a man, for I love God's loveliest woman. +Enough of nobility in name; I mean to prove nobility in deed. Say to my +friends that Dante of the Alighieri, a Florentine, and a lover, devotes +himself for love's sake to the service of his city."</p> + +<p>And when he had spoken he stood very still with his hands clasped before +him, and I, because it is my way to laugh at all things, laughed at him, +and cried out: "Holy Saint Plato, what a hot change of a cold heart! +Bring bell, book, and candle, for Jack Idle is dead and Adam Active is +his heir."</p> + +<p>But Dante turned his face to me, and his eyes were shining very bright, +and he looked younger than his youth, and he spoke to me not as if he +were chiding my mirth, but as if he were telling me a piece of welcome +news, and he said, very gently, "Here beginneth the New Life."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2> + +<h3>CONCERNING POETRY</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">N</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">ow</span> +you must know that after that whimsical encounter of wit between +Dante and Simone, which I have already narrated, Messer Dante seemed to +change his mood again, as he had changed his mood oft-time before. +Messer Brunetto Latini saw much less of his promising pupil, and a +certain old soldier that was great at sword-play much more, and there +was less in Dante's life of the ancient philosophies and more of the +modern chivalries. I presently found out that Messer Dante, having taken +much to heart that gibing defiance of Simone of the Bardi, had set +himself, with that stubborn resolution which characterized all his +purposes, to making himself a master of the sword. Of this, indeed, he +said nothing to me or other man, but Florence, for all that it is so +great and famous a city, is none so large that a man can easily hide his +business there from the eyes of those that have a mind to find out that +business. So I learned that Dante, who had been, as I told you before, +no more than a passable master of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>weapon, now set himself to gain +supremacy over it. Day after day, through long hours, Dante labored at +his appointed task, bracing his sinews, strengthening his muscles, +steadying his eye, doing, in a word, all that a spare and studious youth +must do who would turn himself into a strong and skilful soldier. And +because whatever Dante set head and heart and hand to he was like to +accomplish, I learned later what I guessed from the beginning—that his +patience had its reward.</p> + +<p>By reason of his white-hot zeal and tireless determination, Dante gained +his desired end sooner than many a one whom nature had better moulded +for the purpose. And being of a generous eagerness to learn, he did not +content himself with mastering alone the more skilled usage of the +sword, but made his earnest study of the carriage and command of other +weapons, and he applied himself, besides, to the investigation of the +theory and practice of war as it is waged between great cities and great +states, and to the history of military affairs as they are set forth and +expounded in the lives of famous captains, such as Alexander, and Cæsar, +and their like. Had he been in expectation of sudden elevation to the +headship of the Republic, he could not have toiled more furiously, nor +more wisely devoured a week's lesson in a day, a month's lesson in a +week, a year's lesson in a month, with all the splendid madness of +desireful youth.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p><p>But the marvel of it all was that he did not suffer these studies, +arduous as they were, to eat up his time and his mind, but he kept store +of both to spare for yet another kind of enterprise no less exacting and +momentous, albeit to my mind infinitely more interesting. I will freely +admit that I was never other than an indifferent soldier. I did my part +when the time came, as I am glad to remember, not without sufficient +courage if wholly without distinction, but there was ever more pleasure +for me in the balancing of a rhyme than in the handling of a pike, and I +would liefer have been Catullus than Cæsar any day of the week. So the +work that Dante did in his little leisure from application to arms is +the work that wonders me and delights me, and that fills my memory, as I +think of it, with exquisite melodies.</p> + +<p>It was about this time that sundry poets of the city, of whom let us say +that Messer Guido Cavalcanti was the greatest and your poor servant the +least, began to receive certain gifts of verses very clearly writ on +fair skins of parchment, which gave them a great pleasure and threw them +into a great amazement. For it was very plain that the writer of these +verses was one in whose ear the god Apollo whispered, was one that knew, +as it seemed, better than the best of us, how to wed the warmest +thoughts of the heart to the most exquisite music of flowing words. +These verses, that were for the most part <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>sonnets and longer songs, +were all dedicated to the service of love and the praise of a nameless +lady, and they were all written in that common speech which such as I +talked to the men and women about me, so that there was no man nor woman +in the streets but could understand their meaning if once they heard +them spoken—a fact which I understand gave great grief to Messer +Brunetto Latini when some of these honey-sweet verses of the unknown +were laid before him.</p> + +<p>To Messer Brunetto's eyes and to Messer Brunetto's ears and to Messer +Brunetto's understanding there was but one language in the world that +was fit for the utterances and the delectation of scholars, and that +language, of course, was the language which he wrote so well—the Latin +of old-time Rome. If a man must take the love-sickness, so Messer +Brunetto argued, and must needs express the perfidious folly in words, +what better vehicle could he have for his salacious fancy than the forms +and modes and moods which contented the amorous Ovidius, and the +sprightly Tibullus, and the hot-headed, hot-hearted Catullus, and the +tuneful Petronius, and so on, to much the same purpose, through a string +of ancient amorists? But we that were younger than Messer Brunetto, and +simpler, and certainly more ignorant, we found a great pleasure in these +verses that were so easy to understand as to their language, if their +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>meaning was sometimes a thought mystical and cryptic.</p> + +<p>The fame of these verses spread widely, because no man of us that +received a copy kept the donation to himself, but made haste to place +abroad the message that had been sent to him. So that in a little while +all Florence that had any care for the Graces was murmuring these +verses, and wondering who it was that wrote them, and why it was that he +wrote. It seems to me strange now, looking back on all these matters +through the lapse of years, and through a mist of sad and happy +memories, that I was not wise enough to guess at once who the man must +be that made these miraculous stanzas. I can only plead in my own excuse +that I did not live a generation later than my day, and that I had no +means of divining that a work-a-day friend possessed immortal qualities. +Everybody now in this late evening knows who that poet was, and loves +him. I knew and loved him then, when I had no thought that he was a +poet. Even if it had been given me to make a wild guess at the +authorship of these poems, and my guess had chanced all unwitting to be +right, as would have been thereafter proved, I should have dismissed it +from my fancy. For I conceived that my friend was so busy upon that new +red-hot business of his of fitting himself to be a soldier and use arms, +and answer the taunt of Simone dei Bardi, that he could have no time, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>even if he had the desire, of which, as far as I was aware till then, +he had shown no sign, to try his skill on the strings of the muses. You +may be pleased here to remind me of the discourse between Messer +Brunetto Latini and Dante, which I strove to overhear on that May +morning in the Piazza Santa Felicita, to which I will make bold to +answer that I did not truly overhear much at the time, and that the +substance of what I set down was garnered later, both from Dante and +from Messer Brunetto. But even if I had caught sound of those poetical +aspirations of Dante's, I doubt if they would have stuck in my memory.</p> + +<p>I suppose it was not for such an idle fellow as I, to whom to do nothing +was ever better than to do—I speak, of course, of any measure of +painful labor, and not of such pleasing pastime as eating or drinking or +loving—to guess how much a great brain and a great heart and a great +purpose could crowd into the narrow compass of a little life. In the +mean time, as I say, these songs and sonnets were blown abroad all over +Florence, and men whispered them to maids, and the men wondered who +wrote the rhymes and the maids wondered for whom they were written.</p> + +<p>They would come to us, these rhymes, curiously enough. One or other of +us would find some evening, on his return to his lodging, a scroll of +parchment lying on his table, and on this scroll of parchment <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>some new +verses, and in the corner of the parchment the words in the Latin +tongue, "Take up, read, bear on." And he of us that found himself so +favored, having eagerly taken up and no less eagerly read, would hurry +to the nearest of his comrades and read the new gift to him, delighted, +who would busy himself at once to make a fair copy before speeding the +verses to another. So their fame spread, and so the copies multiplied, +till there was never a musical youth in Florence that did not know the +better part of them by heart; and still, for all this publicity, there +was no man could say who wrote the rhymes, nor who was the lady they +honored. I think and believe, indeed, there were many in Florence who +would gladly have declared themselves the author, but dared not for fear +of detection, and who contented themselves by slight hints and +suggestions and innuendoes, which earned them, for a time, a brief +measure of interest, soon to be dissipated by the manifest certainty of +their incapacity.</p> + +<p>And the first of all these sonnets was that which is now as familiar as +honey on the lips of every lover of suave songs—I mean that sonnet +which begins with the words:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"To every prisoned soul and gentle heart—"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>To this sonnet it pleased many of our poets of the city to write their +replies, though they knew <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>not then to whom they were replying, and +Messer Guido Cavalcanti wrote his famous sonnet, the one that begins:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Unto my thinking thou beheldst all worth—"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Now I, being fired by the same spirit of rhyming that was abroad, but +being of a different temper from the most of my fellows, took it upon me +to pretend a resentment of all this beautiful talk of Love and My Lady. +So I wrote a sonnet, and here it is, urging the advantages of a +plurality in love-affairs:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Give me a jolly girl, or two, or three—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The more the merrier for my weathercock whim;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one shall be like Juno, large of limb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And large of heart; and Venus one shall be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Golden, with eyes like the capricious sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my third sweetheart, Dian, shall be slim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a boy's slimness, flanks and bosom trim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The green, sharp apple of the ancient tree.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With such a trinity to please each mood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I should not find a summer day too long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With blood of purple grapes to fire my blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for my soul some thicket-haunting song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Pan and naughty nymphs, and all the throng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of light o' loves and wantons since the Flood."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I showed this sonnet to Messer Guido, who laughed a little, and said +that I might be the laureate <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>of the tavern and the brothel, but that +this new and nameless singer was a man of another metal, whom I could +never understand. Whereat I laughed, too; but being none the less a +little piqued, as I think, I made it a point thereafter, whenever Guido +had one of these new poems come to him, to answer it with some poem of +my own, cast in a similar form to that chosen by the unknown. But my +verses were always written in praise of the simple and straightforward +pleasures of sensible men, to whom all this talk about the God of Love +and about some single exalted lady seems strangely away from the mark of +wise living. For assuredly if it be a pleasant thing to love one woman, +it is twenty times as pleasant to love twenty. But I will not give you +all of these poems, nor perhaps any more, for you can read them for +yourselves, if you wish to, in my writings.</p> + +<p>Now in a little while this same unknown poet was pleased to put abroad a +certain ballad of his that was ostensibly given over to the praise of +certain lovely ladies of our city. Florence was always a very paradise +of fair women. An inflammable fellow like myself could not walk the +length of a single street without running the risk of half a dozen +heartaches, and never was traveller that came and went but was loud in +his laudations of the loveliness of Florence feminine. A poet, +therefore, could scarcely have a more alluring theme or a livelier <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>or +more likable, and the fact that the mysterious singer had taken such a +subject for his inspiration was rightly regarded as another instance of +his exceeding good sense. It was a very beautiful ballad, fully worthy +of its honorable subject, and it paid many compliments of an exquisite +felicity to many ladies that were indicated plainly enough by some play +upon a name or some praise of an attribute. But it was, or might have +been, plain enough to all that read it that this poem was written for no +other purpose than to bring in by a side wind, as it were, the praise of +a lady that was left nameless, but that he who wrote declared to be the +loveliest lady in that noble city of lovely ladies. This ballad seemed +to be unfinished, for in its last stanza the writer promised to utter +yet more words on this so favorable theme. Now when I had heard of this +poem and before I had read it—for Guido, to whom the first copy was +given, loved it so much and lingered so long upon its lines that he kept +it an unconscionable time from his fellows—I bethought me that I, too, +would write me a set of verses on the brave and fair ladies of Florence, +and that in doing so I could bring in the name of the girl of my heart.</p> + +<p>It was easy enough for me to write a passable ring of rhymes that should +introduce with all due form and honor the names of those ladies that all +in that time agreed to be most eminent for their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>beauty and gentleness +in the beautiful and gentle city. And so I got a good way upon my work +with very little trouble indeed, for, as I have said, rhymes always came +easy to me and I loved to juggle with colored words. My difficulty came +with the moment when I had to decide upon the introduction of my own +heart's desire.</p> + +<p>Now about this time of the year when I began my ballad, I was myself +very plenteously and merrily in love with a certain lady whose name I +will here set down as Ippolita, for that was what I called her, seeing +in her a kind of amazonian carriage, though that was not the name she +was known by among the men and the women, her neighbors. She had dark +eyes whose brightness seemed to widen and deepen as you kissed her +lips—and, indeed, the child loved to be kissed exceedingly, for all her +quaint air of woman-warrior—and she had dark hair that when you, being +permitted to play her lover, uncoiled it, rolled down like a great mane +to her haunches, and her face, both by its paleness and by the +perfection of its featuring, seemed to vie with those images of Greece +by which the wise set such store. To judge by the serenity of her +expression, the suavity of her glances, you would have sworn by all the +saints that here if ever was an angel, one that would carry the calm of +Diana into every action of life, and challenge passion with a chastity +that was never to be gainsaid. But he that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>ever held her in his arms +found that the so-seeming ice was fire, under those snows lava bubbled, +and she that might have passed for a priestess of Astarte quivered with +frenzy under the dominion of Eros. To speak only for myself, I found her +a very phœnix of sweethearts.</p> + +<p>She was married to a tedious old Mumpsiman that kept himself and her in +little ease by plying the trade of a horse-leech, which trade, for the +girl's felicity, held him much abroad, and gave her occasion, seldom by +her neglected, to prove to her intimate of the hour that there can be +fire without smoke. Now I, being somewhat top-heavy at this season with +the wine of so fair a lady's favors, thought that I might, with no small +advantage to myself and no small satisfaction to my mistress, set me to +doing her honor with some such tuneful words as the unknown singer was +blowing with such sweet breath about Florence in praise of his lady. For +it is cheaper to please a woman with a sonnet than with a jewel, and as +my Ippolita was not avaricious, I was blithe to oblige her in golden +numbers in lieu of golden pieces.</p> + +<p>Wherefore I set my wits to work one morning after an evening of delight, +and found the muse complaisant. My fancy spouted like a fountain, the +rhymes swam in the water like gilded or silver fishes, so tame you had +but to dip in your fingers and take your pick, while allusion and simile +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>crowded so thickly about me that I should have needed an epic rather +than my legal fourteen lines to make use of the half of them. I tell you +I was in the very ecstasy of composition that lasted me for the better +part of a fortnight. But by the time that I had come to this point the +pretty Ippolita, whose name I had intended to place there, was no longer +the moment's idol of my soul, and between the two dainty girls that had +succeeded her I sat for a long while embarrassed, like the schoolman's +ass between the two bundles of hay, not knowing, as it were, at which to +bite.</p> + +<p>At last I bethought me that the best way out of my trouble was to set +down the names of all the sweet women whom I loved or had loved, and to +let those others and more famous, of whom I knew nothing save by sight +or renown, stand to one side. So it came to pass that this poem of mine +proved, at the last, more like an amorous calendar of my own life than a +hymn in praise of the famous beauties of Florence. For with famous +beauties I have never at any time had much to do. It has always been my +desire to find my beauties for myself, and I have ever found that there +is a greater reward in the discovery of some pretty maid and assuring +her that she is lovelier than Helen of Troy or Semiramis or Cleopatra, +than in the paying of one's addresses to some publicly acclaimed +loveliness.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p><p>By the time my tale of verses was complete, it was as different as it +might be from that which it set itself, I will not say to rival, but to +parody, for it contained few names of great ladies that were upon the +lips of every Florentine, but sang the praises of unknown witches and +minxes that were at the time of writing, or had been, very dear to me. +If my song was not so fine a piece of work as that of Messer Dante, +though Messer Dante was at that time only in the earlier flights of his +efforts, and his pinions were, as yet, unfamiliar to the poet's ether, +it was perhaps as true a picture, after its fashion, of a lover's heart. +After all, it must be remembered that there are many kinds of lovers' +hearts, and that those who can understand the "New Life" of Messer +Dante's are very few, and fewer still those that can live that life. But +I here protest very solemnly that it was with no thought of scoff or +mockery that I made my ballad, but just for the sake of saying, in my +way, the things I thought about the pretty women that pleased me and +teased me, and made life so gay and fragrant and variegated in those +far-away, dearly remembered, and no doubt much-to-be-deplored days.</p> + +<p>It was the dreaming of this ballad of mine that led me to think of Monna +Vittoria, whom you will remember if you bear in mind the beginning of +this, my history, the lady that Messer Simone of the Bardi was +whimsically pledged to wed if he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>failed to win a certain wager that I +trust you have not forgotten. And thinking of Monna Vittoria led, in due +time, to a meeting with Monna Vittoria that was not without +consequences.</p> + +<p>It is not incurious, when you come to reflect upon it, how potent the +influence of such a woman as Vittoria may be upon the lives of those +that would seem never destined by Heaven to come in her way. My Dante +was never in those days a wooer of such ladies. As to certain things +that are said of him later, in the hours of his despair, when the world +seemed no better than an empty shell, I shall have somewhat to say, +perhaps, by-and-by, for there is a matter that has led to not a little +misunderstanding of the character of my friend. As for Madonna Beatrice, +she that was such a flower in a guarded garden, why, you would have said +it was little less than incredible that the clear course of her simple +life could be crossed by the summer lightning of Madonna Vittoria's +brilliant, fitful existence. Yet, nevertheless, from first to last, +Madonna Vittoria was of the utmost moment in the lives of this golden +lass and lad, and this much must be admitted in all honesty: that she +never did, or at least never sought to do, other than good to either of +them. I should not like to say that she would have troubled at all about +them or their welfare if it had not served her turn to do so. But +whatever the reasons for her deeds, let us be grateful that their +results <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>were not malefic to those whose interests concern us most. If +Messer Simone had never made his brutal boast, Madonna Vittoria would +never have made her wild wager. But having made it, she was eager to win +it at all costs, and it was her determination that Simone of the Bardi +should never wed with Beatrice of the Portinari, that led, logically +enough if you do but consider it aright, to the many strange events +which it is my business to narrate.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> + +<h3>MONNA VITTORIA SENDS ME A MESSAGE</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">M</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">onna</span> +Vittoria dwelt in the pleasantest part of the country outside the +city, in a quarter where there were many gardens and much thickness of +trees and greenness of grass and coloring of bright flowers—all +pleasing things, that made an agreeable background to her beauty when +she went abroad in her litter. For, indeed, she was a comely creature, +and one that painters would pause to look at and to praise, as well as +others that eyed her more carnally minded. Now I myself had but a slight +acquaintance, albeit a pleasant one, with Vittoria. This was partly +because my purse was but leanly provided, and partly because I had ever +in mind with regard to such creatures the wise saying of the Athenian +concerning the girl Lais, that it was not worth while to spend a fortune +to gain a regret. Moreover, I was too much occupied with my own very +agreeable love-affairs, that were blended with poetry and dreams and +such like sweetnesses, as well as with reality, to make me feel any wish +for more extravagant alliances. But I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>had it in my mind now that it +might be a good thing for me, in the interests of my poem in praise of +fair Florentines, to pay this lady a visit, and I hoped, being a poet, +though I trust not over puffed up with my own pride of importance, and +knowing that she was always fain to be regarded as a patroness of the +arts, that I might, without much difficulty, gain access to her.</p> + +<p>So I spent a careless morning on a hillside beyond the city in the +excellent company of a flask of wine and a handful of bread and cheese, +and there I sprawled upon my back among the daisies and munched and +sipped, and listened to the bees, and looked upon the brown roofs of +beautiful Florence, and was very well content. And when I had stayed my +stomach and flung the crumbs to the birds, and had emptied the better +part of my flagon, I stretched myself under a tree like a man in a doze. +I was not dozing, however, for the flowers and the verdure about me, and +the birds that piped overhead, and the booming bees, and the strong +sunlight on the grass, and the glimpses of blue sky through the +branches, were all busying themselves for me in weaving the web of the +poem I wanted to carry home with me.</p> + +<p>As I shot the bright verses this way and that way, and caught with a +childish pleasure at the shining rhymes as a child will catch at some +glittering toy, I had perforce to smile as I reflected on what a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>different business mine was to that of the unknown singer of those +days. For those poems of his that he had sent to Guido and to others +were exceeding beautiful, and full of a very noble and golden +exaltation. I think if the angels in heaven were ever to make love to +one another they would choose for their purpose some such perfection of +speech as Dante—for I knew the singer to be Dante a little later—found +for his sonnets and canzone. For myself, I frankly admit, being an +honest man, that I could not write such sonnets even if I had my Dante's +command of speech, to which Heaven forbid that I should ever pretend. +Those rhymes of his, for all their loveliness—and when I say that they +were lovely enough to be worthy of the lady to whom they were addressed, +I give them the highest praise and the praise that Dante would most have +cared to accept—were too ethereal for my work-a-day humors. I liked +better to write verses to the laughing, facile lasses with whom my way +of life was cast—jolly girls who would kiss to-day and sigh to-morrow, +and forget all about you the third day if needs were, and whom it was as +easy for their lover to forget, so far as any sense of pain lay in the +recollection of their graces. And I would even rather have the jolly job +I was engaged on at that moment of some ripe, rich-colored verses for +Vittoria, for I could, in writing them, be as human as I pleased and +frankly of the earth earthly, and I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>needed to approach my quarry with +no tributes pilfered from the armory of heaven. I could praise her +beauty with the tongue of men, and leave the tongue of angels out of the +question; and if my muse were pleased here and there to take a wanton +flutter, I knew I could give decorum the go-by with a light heart.</p> + +<p>So I wallowed at my ease in the grasses and tossed verses as a juggler +tosses his balls, and watched them glitter and wink as they rose and +fell, and at last I shaped to my own satisfaction what I believed to be +an exceedingly pleasant set of verses that needed no more than to be +engrossed on a fair piece of sheepskin and tied with a bright ribbon and +sent to the exquisite frailty. And all these things I did in due course, +after the proper period of polishing and amending and straightening out, +until, as I think, there never was a set of rhymes more carefully +fathered and mothered into the world. And here is the sonnet:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There is a lady living in this place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That wears the radiant name of Victory;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we that love would bid her wingless be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the Athenian image, lest her grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifting a siren's-tinted pinions, trace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its glittering course across the Tyrrhene sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To some more favored Cyprian sanctuary,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaving us lonely, longing for her face.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span><span class="i0">O daughter of the gods, though lovelier lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If such there be, entreat you, do not hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their whispering voices, heed their beckoning hands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have only eye for Florence, only ear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Florentine adorers, while their cheer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between your fingers spills its golden sands."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Now this sonnet may be divided into four parts. In the first part, I +make my statement that there is a lady dwelling in Florence whose name +is Vittoria. In the second part, I allow my fancy to play lightly with +the suggestions this name arouses in me, and I make allusion very +felicitously to the famous statue of the Wingless Victory, which the +Athenians honored in Athens so very specially in that, being wingless, +it could not fly away from the city. In the third part, I express my +alarm lest her loveliness should spread its vans in flight and leave us +lonely. In the fourth, I entreat her to pay no heed to the solicitations +of others, but to remain always loyal to her Florentine lovers so long +as they can give her gifts. The second part begins here: "And we that +love." The third begins, "Lest her grace." The fourth part begins, "O +daughter of the gods."</p> + +<p>That simile of the Wingless Victory tickled me so mightily that I was in +a very good conceit with myself, and if I read over my precious sonnet +once, I suppose I read it over a score of times; and even now, at this +distance of days, I am inclined to pat <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>myself upon the back and to call +myself ear-pleasing names for the sake of my handiwork. Of course I am +ready to admit quite frankly that most, if not all, of Dante's sonnets +are better, taking them all round, than my modest enterprises. But there +is room, as I hope, for many kinds of music-makers in the fields about +Parnassus. I know Messer Guido spoke very pleasantly of my sonnets, and +so I make no doubt would Dante have, but somehow or other I never showed +them to him.</p> + +<p>Now, when I had scrolled my rhymes precisely, I had them dispatched to +Monna Vittoria by a sure hand, and, as is my way, having done what I had +to do, thought no more about the matter for the time being. It was ever +a habit of mine not merely to let the dead day bury its dead, but to let +the dead hour, and, if possible, the dead minute and dead second bury +their dead, and to think no more upon any matter than is essential. I +think the sum of all wise living is to be merry as often as one can, and +sad as seldom as one can, and never to fret over what is unavoidable, or +to be pensive over what is past, but to be wise for the time. So I +remember that days not a few drifted by after I had sent my rhymes and +my request to Monna Vittoria, and I was very busy just then paying my +court to three of the prettiest girls I had ever known, and I almost +forgot my poem and Monna Vittoria altogether.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p><p>But I recall a grayish morning along Arno and a meeting with Messer +Guido, and his taking me on one side and standing under an archway while +he read me a sonnet that the unknown poet had composed in illustration +of his passion for his nameless lady, and had sent to Messer Guido. It +was a very beautiful sonnet, as I remember, and I recall very keenly +wishing for an instant that I could write such words and, above all, +that I could think such thoughts. I think I have already set it down +that love has always been a very practical business with me. If one girl +is not at hand, another will serve, and the moon-flower, sunflower +manner of worship was never my way. But if one must love like that, +making love rather a candle on God's altar than a torch in Venus her +temple, there is no man ever since the world began, nor will, I think, +ever be till the world shall end, to do so better than Messer Dante. +When I had done reading the sonnet, and had parted from friend Guido, I +found myself in the mood that this then unknown poet's verses always +swung me into, of wonder and trouble, as of one who, having drunk +over-much of a heady and insidious wine, finds himself thinking +unfamiliar thoughts and seeing familiar things unfamiliarly. While I was +thus mazed and arguing with myself as to whether I were right and this +poet wrong or this poet right and I wrong in our view of love and women. +I was accosted in the plain <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>highway by a dapper little brat of a page +that wore a very flamboyant livery, and that carried a letter in his +hand. And the page questioned me with a grin and asked me if I were +Messer Lappo Lappi, and I, being so bewildered with the burden of my +warring thoughts, was half of a mind to answer that I was no such man, +but luckily recalled myself and walked the sober earth again soberly. I +assured him that I was none other than poor Lappo Lappi, and I pinched a +silver coin from my pocket and gave it to him, and he handed me the +missive and grinned again, and whistled and slipped away from me along +the street, a diminished imp of twinkling gilt. And I opened the letter +then and there, and read in it that Monna Vittoria very gracefully gave +me her duty, and in all humility thanked me for my verses—Lord, as if +that ample baggage could ever be humble!—and would be flattered beyond +praise if my dignity would honor her with my presence on such a day at +such an hour. And I was very well pleased with this missive, and was +very careful to obey its commands.</p> + +<p>The house where Monna Vittoria dwelt was a marvel of beauty, like its +mistress—a fair frame for a fair portrait. It seemed to have laid all +the kingdoms of earth under tribute, for, indeed, the lady's friends +were mainly men of wealth, cardinals and princes and great captains, +that were ever ready to give her the best they had to give for the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>honor of her acquaintance. Her rooms were rich with statues of marble +and statues of bronze, and figures in ivory and figures in silver, and +with gold vessels, and cabinets of ebony and other costly woods; and +pictures by Byzantine painters hung upon her walls, and her rooms were +rich with all manner of costly stuffs and furs. He that was favored to +have audience with Monna Vittoria went to her as through a dream of +loveliness, marvelling at the many splendid things that surrounded her: +at the fountain in her court-yard, where the goldfish gambolled, and +where a Triton that came from an old Roman villa spouted; at her +corridors, lined with delicately tinted majolica that seemed cool and +clean as ice in those summer heats; at her antechambers, that glowed +with color and swooned with sweet odors; and, finally, at her own +apartments, where she that was lady of all this beauty seemed so much +more beautiful than it all.</p> + +<p>Madonna Vittoria would have looked queenly in a cottage; in the midst of +her gorgeous surroundings she showed more than imperial, and she knew +the value of such trappings and made the most of them to dazzle her +admirers, for her admirers, as I have said, were all great lords that +were used to handsome dwellings and sumptuous appointments and costly +adornings, but there was never one of them that seemed to dwell so +splendidly as Monna Vittoria.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p><p>Now I, that came to her with nothing save such credit as I might hope to +have for the sake of my verses, could look at all this magnificence with +an indifferent eye. Yet I will confess that as I moved through so much +sumptuousness, and breathed such strangely scented air, I was stirred +all of a sudden with strange and base envy of those great personages for +whom this brave show was spread, and found myself wishing unwittingly +that I were some great prince of the Church or adventurous +free-companion who might not, indeed, command—for there were none who +could do that—but hope for the lady's kindness. Although I assured +myself lustily that a poet was as good as a prince, in my heart, and in +the presence of all this luxury, I knew very dismally that it was not +so, and that Monna Vittoria would never be persuaded to think so. As I +have already said, I had no great yearning for these magnificent +mercenaries of the hosts of Love, for these bejewelled amazons that +seemed made merely to prove to man that he is no better than an +unutterable ass. My pulses never thrilled tumultuously after her kind, +and in the free air of the fields I would not have changed one of my +pretty sweethearts against Monna Vittoria. But somehow in that fantastic +palace of hers, with its enchanted atmosphere and its opulent +surroundings, my cool reason of the meadows and the open air seemed at a +loss, and I found myself ready, as it <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>were, to surrender to Circe like +any hog pig of them all.</p> + +<p>If this were the time and the place, I should like to try to find out, +by the light of a dry logic, and with the aid of a cold process of +analysis, why these Timandras and Phrynes have so much power over men. +Perhaps, as I am speaking of Monna Vittoria, I should add the Aspasias +to my short catalogue of she-gallants, for Vittoria was a woman well +accomplished in the arts, well-lettered, speaking several tongues with +ease, well-read, too, and one that could talk to her lovers, when they +had the time or the inclination for talking, of the ancient authors of +Rome, and of Greece, too, for that matter—did I not say her mother was +a Greek?—and could say you or sing you the stanzas of mellifluous +poets, most ravishingly to the ear. She knew all the verses of Guido +Guinicelli by root of heart, and to hear her repeat that poem of his +beginning,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Love ever dwells within the gentle heart,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>what time she touched a lute to soft notes of complaining and praise and +patience and desire, was to make, for the moment, even the most obdurate +understand her charm. But if I at all seem to disfavor her, it may be +because she was too costly a toy for such as I, save, indeed, when she +condescended to do a grace, for kindness' sake, to one <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>whose revenues +were of small estate. It is plain that such ladies have their +fascination, and in a measure I admit it, but, day in and day out, I +prefer my jolly dollimops. This has ever been my opinion and always will +be, and I think those are the likelier to go happy that think like me.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2> + +<h3>MADONNA VITTORIA SOUNDS A WARNING</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">M</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">adonna</span> +Vittoria received me so very graciously that for a while I began +to think no little good of myself, and to reconsider my latest opinion +as to the value of poets and poetry in the eyes of such ladies. But this +mood of self-esteem was not fated to be of long duration. After some +gracious words of praise for my verses, which made me pleased to find +her so wise in judgment, she came very swiftly to the purpose for which +she had summoned me, and that purpose was not at all to share in the +delight of my society.</p> + +<p>"Are you not a friend," she said, very gravely, "of young Dante of the +Alighieri?"</p> + +<p>I made answer that for my own poor part I counted myself his very dear +and devoted friend, and that I had reason to believe that he held me in +some affection. I was not a little surprised at this sudden introduction +of Messer Dante into our conversation, and began to wonder if by any +chance Monna Vittoria had taken a fancy to him. Such women have such +whims at times. However, I was not long left in doubt as to her meaning.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p><p>"If you are a true friend to him," she said, "you would do well to +counsel him to go warily and to have a care of Messer Simone of the +Bardi, for I am very sure that he means to do him a mischief when time +shall serve."</p> + +<p>Now I had seen nothing of Dante since that day of the little bicker with +Simone, long weeks earlier, but as I had heard by chance that he was +busy with the practice of sword-craft, I took it for granted that he was +thus keeping his promise to a certain lady, and was by no means +distressed at his absence. As for Messer Simone, he went his ways in +Florence as truculently as ever, and I hoped he would be willing to let +bygones be bygones.</p> + +<p>"Does he still bear such a grudge for a single rose-blossom?" I asked. +And it seemed to me that it was scarcely in reason to be so pettily +revengeful toward a youth that had carried himself so valiantly and so +cunningly in the countenance of a great danger.</p> + +<p>Monna Vittoria answered me very swiftly and decidedly. "Messer Simone +has a little mind in his big body, and little minds cling to trifles. +But it is not the matter of the rose alone that chokes him, but chiefly +the matter of the poems."</p> + +<p>I stared at Monna Vittoria with round eyes of wonder. "What poems?" I +asked; for, indeed, I did not understand her drift.</p> + +<p>She frowned a little in impatience at my slowness. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>"Why, surely," she +said, "those poems that Messer Dante has written in praise of Beatrice +of the Portinari, and in declaration of his service to her. Have you not +seen them? Have you not heard of them? Do you not, who are his friend, +know that they were written by young Dante?"</p> + +<p>Now, indeed, I knew nothing of the kind, and I could not, in reviewing +the matter, blame myself very greatly for my lack of knowledge. Who +could guess that a scholarly youth who was now very suddenly and wholly, +as I had heard, addicted to martial exercises, should, in a twinkling +and without the least warning, prove the peer of the practised poets of +Florence? Nor was there in the poems that I had seen any plain hint +given that the lady they praised was Madonna Beatrice.</p> + +<p>"Are you very sure?" I asked. And yet even as I asked I felt that it +must be so, and that I ought, by rights, to have known it before, for +all that it was so very surprising. For when a man is in love and has +anything of the poet in him, that poet is like to leap into life fully +armed with equipment of songs and sonnets, as Minerva, on a memorable +occasion, made her all-armored ascent from the riven brows of Jove.</p> + +<p>The lady was very scornful of my thick-headedness, and was at no pains +to conceal her scorn, for all that I had written her so honorable a copy +of verses.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p><p>"Am I sure? How could I be other than sure? Why, on that day when +Madonna Beatrice flung your Dante the rose from her nosegay, I knew by +the look in the lad's face that he no less than worshipped her. Was I +not standing in the press? Did I not see all, even to the humiliation of +Simone? It needed no very keen vision to divine the beginning of many +things, love and hate and grave adventures. So when a new and nameless +poet filled the air of Florence with his sweetness it did not take me +long to spell the letters of his name."</p> + +<p>I felt, as I listened, very sure that it ought not to have taken me long +either, and the thought made me penitent, and I was about to attempt +apologies for my folly when Madonna Vittoria cut me short with new +words.</p> + +<p>"It mattered little," she went on, "for me to guess the secret of the +new poet's mystery, but it mattered much that Simone should guess it. +Yet he did guess it. For my Simone, that should be and shall be mine, +though he knows nothing and cares nothing for poetry, guessed with the +crude instinct of brutish jealousy the authorship that has puzzled +Florence."</p> + +<p>I felt and looked disturbed at these tidings, and I besought Monna +Vittoria to give me the aid of her counsel in this business, as to what +were best to do and what not to do. And Madonna Vittoria very earnestly +warned me not to make light of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>Messer Simone's anger, nor to doubt that +my Dante was in danger.</p> + +<p>"It were very well," she said, after a few moments of silent +thoughtfulness, "if Messer Dante could be persuaded to pay some kind of +public addresses to some other lady, so as to divert the suspicions of +Messer Simone. Let him show me some attention; let him haunt my house +awhile. Messer Simone will not be jealous of me, now that he is in this +marry mood of his."</p> + +<p>I have sometimes wondered since if Madonna Vittoria, in her willingness +to help Dante, was not also more than a little willing to please herself +with the society of one that could write such incomparable love-verses. +Whatever the reason for it might be, I found her idea ingenious and +commended it heartily, but Madonna Vittoria, that seemed indifferent to +my approval, interrupted the full flood of my eloquence with a lifted +hand and lifted eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"I know your Dante too well," she said, "though I know him but little, +to think that he will be persuaded to any course in order to avoid the +anger of Messer Simone."</p> + +<p>I knew that this was true as soon as Madonna Vittoria had said it, and I +admired the insight of women by which they are so skilled to distinguish +one man from another, even when they have seen very little of the man +that happens to interest them. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>I may honestly confess that if the case +had been my case, I would cheerfully have availed myself of Monna +Vittoria's suggestion and seemed to woo her—though, indeed, I could +have done it very readily with no seeming in the matter—that I might +avoid the inimical suspicions of Messer Simone or his like. Not, you +must understand, that in the heart of my heart I was so sore afraid of +Messer Simone or of another man as to descend to any baseness to avoid +his rage, but just that there was in me the mischievous spirit of +intrigue which ever takes delight in disguisings and concealments and +mysteries of all kinds. But I knew when Madonna Vittoria had said it, +and might have known before Madonna Vittoria had said it, if I had +reflected for an instant, that my Dante was not of this inclination and +must walk his straight path steadfastly. Wherefore, I felt at a loss and +looked it, staring at Monna Vittoria.</p> + +<p>"Messer Dante," she went on, "must do this thing that I would have him +do, not for any care or safety of his own, but for the sake and for the +safety and the ease and peace of mind of Madonna Beatrice. If it gets to +be blown about the city that the lad Dante of the Alighieri is madly in +love with her, and can find no other occupation for his leisure than the +writing in her praise of amorous canzonets, not only will Messer Simone, +her suitor, be fretted, but also Messer Folco, her father, be vexed, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>neither of which things can in any way conduce to her happiness. Let +Messer Dante, therefore, for his love's sake, be persuaded to wear the +show of affection for some other lady, and as there is already nothing +in the wording of his verses to betray the name of the lady he serves, +let him by his public carriage and demeanor make it seem as if his heart +and brain were bestowed on some other, such another even as myself."</p> + +<p>Here, for an instant, Madonna Vittoria paused to take breath, and I +nodded approval, and would have spoken, but she was too quick for me.</p> + +<p>"Get him to do this," she said, earnestly. "Let him be made very sure +that I thoroughly know that he does not care and never could care two +fig-pips for me, and tell him, if you like, that I could never waste a +smile or sigh on the effort to make his sour face look sweet. Besides, I +am not urging this to serve him, but to help myself, for I do not wish +Messer Simone to marry Madonna Beatrice, the which thing is the more +likely to happen if Messer Folco has any hint of sweethearting between +his magnificence's daughter and an insignificant boy."</p> + +<p>What Madonna Vittoria said was splendid sense, and I applauded it +lustily, and made her my vows that it should be my business to seek out +my Dante and bring him to her thinking. And then we passed from that +matter to talk of love-poems, and from love-poems to lovers, and from +lovers to the art of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>love. I would not for all the world seem +indiscreet, so I will say no more than that it was a very pleasant +afternoon which I passed in that fair lady's society, the memory of +which I treasure very preciously in the jewel-casket of my tenderest +recollections.</p> + +<p>But when the time came for me to bid her farewell she renewed again and +very insistently her warning that Simone of the Bardi meant mischief to +Dante of the Alighieri, and her counsel that young Dante should be +persuaded, for his dear lady's sake, to fob off suspicion by feigning an +affection which indeed had no place in his bosom. To this, as before, I +agreed very heartily, and so took my leave of a very winsome and +delicious creature, and went my ways wishing with all my heart that it +might be my privilege to woo such a lady daily, either for my own safety +or the safety of another. Which shows that the fates are very +fantastical in their favors, for this exquisite occasion of felicity was +offered, not to me who would have appreciated it at its right value, but +to Messer Dante, who would not value it at the worth of a single +pomegranate seed.</p> + +<p>But, however that may be, I did as the lady bade me, and I sought out +Messer Dante and found him, and gave him the sum of Madonna Vittoria's +discourse, urging him to do as she counselled. In doing this I spoke not +at all of the danger there <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>might be to my friend from the rage of +Messer Simone, but solely of the need for every true and humble lover to +keep his love and service secret enough to avoid either care or offence +to his lady. To all of which wisdom Messer Dante agreed very readily, +being, indeed, over-willing to reproach himself for heedlessness in the +matter of his verses, though, indeed, he named no name in them and kept +himself as close and invisible as a cuckoo. And I promised and vowed to +tell no man nor no woman the secret of the authorship of the verses that +Florence was beginning to love so well.</p> + +<p>I kept my word as to this promise, and the time was not yet before other +than Monna Vittoria and myself and Messer Simone knew the secret. Dante +kept his word to me and followed Madonna Vittoria's advice, and showed +himself attentive in her company time and again, and was seen on +occasion going to or coming from her house. Which conduct on his part, +for all that it was intended for the best, did not, as so often happens +with the devices of human cunning, have the best result. For of course, +in a city like Florence, where gossip is blown abroad like thistle-seed, +it came soon enough to the ears of Madonna Beatrice that young Messer +Dante of the Alighieri was believed by many to be a lover of Madonna +Vittoria. Now, Madonna Beatrice knew nothing of Dante's wonder-verses in +her honor, nor of Dante's way of life since the day of their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>meeting in +Santa Felicita, for Dante was resolved not to bring himself again to her +notice until he considered himself in some degree more worthy to do so. +Therefore, Madonna Beatrice was little pleased by the talk that coupled +the name of Vittoria with his name to whom she had given the rose. So it +chanced that one day when she with her companions met Dante in the +street, she refused him her salutation, whereat my poor Dante was +plunged in a very purgatory of woe.</p> + +<p>Of course, he had no knowledge of how he had offended his sweet lady, +for it was no great wonder if a youth of his age were to be friends with +Madonna Vittoria, as many of the youths of the city were friends. +Besides, his own consciousness that his friendship with the woman was no +more than friendship—and indeed would have been no more for him, in +those ecstatic hours, had she been the goddess Venus herself—caused him +to look at the matter very indifferently, regarding it as no more than a +convenient cloak to screen from the prying curiosity of the world his +high passion for Madonna Beatrice. But I, that was more in the way of +girl-gossips than Dante, got in time to know the truth of the reason why +the lady Beatrice had refused her salutation to my friend, and I began +to see that Madonna Vittoria's counsel might well prove more mischievous +than serviceable in the end.</p> + +<p>However, I had no more to do than to communicate <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>to Dante the reason +that I had discovered for his dear idol's lack of greeting, and at the +news of it he was cast into a great gloom and remained disconsolate for +a long while. And I urged him that he should let Madonna Beatrice know +what he had done and why, but he would not hear of this, saying that he +would never seek to win either her favor or her pity so, by trading on +any service he might seem to do her. He added that he hoped in God's +good time to set himself right with her again, when he was more worthy +to approach her. All of which was very beautiful and devoted and noble, +but not at all sensible, according to my way of doing or my way of +thinking.</p> + +<p>Anyway, Messer Dante would go to visit Madonna Vittoria no more, and she +wondered at his absence and sent for me and questioned me, and I told +her the truth, how following her advice had brought Dante into disgrace +with his lady. Then Vittoria seemed indeed grieved, and she commended +Dante for keeping away from her, and vowed that he should be set right +some way or other in the eyes of his lady. Indeed, it was a pleasure and +a marvel that Madonna Vittoria could show such zeal and heat for so +simple a love-business as this of the boy of the Alighieri and the girl +of the Portinari.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h2> + +<h3>THE DEVILS OF AREZZO</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">N</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">ow,</span> +the next page in the book of my memory that is concerned with the +fortunes of my friend has to do with the feast that Messer Folco +Portinari gave to the magnificoes and dignitaries, the notables and +worthies, the graces and the radiancies of Florence—a feast that, +memorable in itself, was yet more memorable from all that came of it by +what we in our wisdom or our ignorance call chance. It was a very +proper, noble, and glorious festival, and I am almost as keen to attend +it again in my memory as I was keen to be present at it in the days when +Time and I were boys together. Yet for all my impatience I think it good +before I treat of it and of its happenings to set down in brief certain +conditions that then prevailed in Florence—conditions which had their +influence in making Messer Folco's festival memorable to so many lives.</p> + +<p>You must know that at this time the all-wise and all-powerful Republic +of Florence was not a little harassed in its peace and its comfort, if +not in its <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>wisdom and its power, by the unneighborly and unmannerly +conduct of the people of Arezzo. These intolerant and intolerable folk +were not only so purblind and thick-witted as not to realize the +immeasurable supremacy of the city of Florence for learning, +statesmanship, and bravery over all the other cities of Italy put +together, but had carried the bad taste of their opinions into the still +worse taste of offensive action. For a long time past Arezzo had pitted +itself in covert snares and small enterprises against the integrity and +well-being of the Republic. Were Florence in any political difficulty or +commercial crisis, then surely were the busy fingers—ah, and even the +busy thumbs and the whole busy hands—of the people in Arezzo sure to be +thrust into the pie with the ignoble object of plucking out for their +own advantage such plums as they could secure. Florentine convoys were +never safe from attack on the highroads that neighbored the Aretine +dominion, and if any brawl broke out between Florence and one of her +neighbors, a brawl never provoked by Florence, too magnanimous for such +petty dealings, but always inaugurated by the cupidity or the treachery +of her enemies, the Aretines were sure to be found taking part in it, +either openly or secretly, to the disadvantage and detriment of the +noble city.</p> + +<p>Now, this state of things had endured long enough in the minds of most +good citizens, and it was felt <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>that the patience of Florence had been +over-abused and her good nature too shamelessly counted upon, and that +it was time to teach these devils of Arezzo a lesson in civility and +fair fellowship. The time for giving this lesson seemed at this present +time the more auspicious because for the moment Florence had her hands +free from other external complications, and was perhaps less troubled +than was her wont by internal agitations. The jolly Guelphs had it their +own way more or less in the city; those that were Ghibelline in +principle or Ghibelline by sentiment were wise enough to keep their +opinions to themselves. Such exiled Ghibellines as had been permitted to +return kept very mum and snug. The Reds and the Yellows wore a show of +peace, and the city would have appeared to any stranger's eyes to be a +very marvel of union and agreement. Under these circumstances it was +thought by many, and indeed boldly asserted by many, that it would be a +good opportunity to take advantage of an idle, peaceful time and give +the people of Arezzo a trouncing. Wherefore, according to certain wise +heads, it became all good citizens to do the utmost that in them lay to +further so excellent a cause, the elders by appropriate contributions, +according to their means, to the coffers of the state, the younger by +volunteering eagerly for service in the ranks of a punitive army to be +raised against Arezzo.</p> + +<p>Never was such a time of military enthusiasm <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>among the young with whom +I frequented, nor did any youth of them all show to me more enthusiasm +for the cause of the city than Messer Dante. Ever since that day when he +had seen again the fair girl whom he had loved as a fair child he had +been, as indeed he had said he would be, a changed man, no longer +indifferent to the great concerns of state, no longer absorbed in +unproductive studies to the extinction of all sense of citizenship, but +a patriotic youth keenly alive to the duties that devolved upon a +true-hearted Florentine, and zealous in the practice of all those arts +that should make him more worthy to be called her son. If he had +surprised me by his quiet and his wiliness on the day of his quarrel +with Messer Simone dei Bardi, if he had amazed me by the writing of +those verses, the authorship of which Madonna Vittoria had been the +first to make known to me, he astonished me still more now by the proofs +of his application to military and political science. He would talk very +learnedly of the disposition of armies in the field, of the advantages +and disadvantages of the use of mercenary troops, and the best way to +defend and the best way to assault a well-walled citadel, so that you +would think, to listen to him, that he was some gray old generalissimo +steeped in experience, and not the smooth-cheeked fellow whom we knew, +as we thought, so well, and whom perhaps we knew so little. He showed +himself as eager for the affairs <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>of state as for the affairs of war, +ever ready to weigh new problems of political administration, and to +argue as to the merits or defects of this or that form of government.</p> + +<p>In a word, from being a reserved and scholarly lad that seemed to take +little or no interest in the busy world about him, he had suddenly +become an active, enthusiastic man to whom all living questions seemed +exceedingly alive. And with all this he kept on with his sword-practice +as if he had not other thought but arms, and kept on at his rhymings as +if he had no other thought but love and song. And since I kept the +knowledge that Monna Vittoria had given me to myself—yea, kept it even +from Messer Guido Cavalcanti—those in Florence that cared for verses +still marvelled at the music of the unknown, and wondered as to his +identity.</p> + +<p>Now, as the natural result of the great ferment and headiness in the +city and in the hearts of all men in Florence, there was a mighty desire +to come to a proper understanding with these Aretines, the proper +understanding having, of course, for its object the placing of the neck +of Arezzo under the heel of Florence. But though, as I have said, the +bickerings between the two powers had been going on for a long while, +Florence did not as yet, in view of the complications that existed, and +the new complications that might arise from overt act, feel herself +strong enough to take the field in open war <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>and to hazard all, it might +be, upon the chances of a single field.</p> + +<p>Then it was that there came into the mind of Messer Simone dei Bardi, +instigated thereunto, as I verily believe, more for his own purpose than +from any pure patriotism, a scheme for sapping the strength of the +Aretines by some sudden and secret stroke. It was with this end in view +that he went up and down the city, talking with those that were young +and inflammable, and baiting his plans with many big words and sounding +phrases that were as stimulating to the ear as the clanging of the bells +on the war-wagon, so that those who heard them, flushed and troubled by +their music, were at little pains to inquire as to the wisdom that lay +behind them. When Messer Simone found that there were plenty of young +men in the city that were as headstrong and valorous as he could wish, +he began to mould his words into a closer meaning and to make plainer +what he would be at. This was, as it seemed, no other than the formation +of a kind of sacred army, such as he had professed to have read of in +the history of certain of the old Greek cities, that was to be entirely +devoted to the gain and welfare of the city, and to regard all other +purposes in life as of little or no value in comparison. He hinted, +then, at the levying of a legion of high-spirited and adventurous +gentlemen, whose object was to strike surely and suddenly at the +strength <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>of Arezzo, being sworn beforehand never to endure defeat or to +know retreat when once they had taken their work in hand. To give their +object greater significance, he suggested that this legion should be +known as the Company of Death, thereby signifying that those who pledged +themselves thereto were only to return victorious or not at all.</p> + +<p>You may be sure that a great many gallant youths caught eagerly at such +a chance of serving their city, all the more so, it may be, because it +offered them no direct reward in the case of success and assured them a +self-promised death in the event of failure. Now you shall see wherein +this scheme helped to serve the purpose of Messer Simone dei Bardi, for +it was his hope that Messer Dante should be tempted to enroll himself in +this same Company of Death, whereby there was every possibility of +Messer Simone being well rid of him.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h2> + +<h3>MESSER FOLCO'S FESTIVAL</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">I</span><span style="margin-left:0%;"> </span> +may say, indeed, to the very extreme of verity, that Messer Folco of +the Portinari was an excellent man. I will never say that he had not his +faults, for he had them, being mortal. He was, it may be, natived with +something of a domineering disposition. Feeling himself worthy to +command, he liked, perhaps as often as not, to assert that worthiness. +It is very certain that what Messer Guido said of him was true, and that +with regard to his own family he was indeed the Roman father, one whose +word must be law absolute and unquestionable for all his children. Yet +withal a just man whose judgments seldom erred in harshness. Although +not acrimonious, he was inclined to be choleric, and he was punctilious +to a degree that would never have suited my humor on all matters that +concerned what he regarded as the sober conduct of life. Enough of this. +Let us turn to the good man's patent virtues.</p> + +<p>Though his steadfast adhesion to his own party had earned him many +enemies among those of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>opposing faction, he was never so hot and +desperate a politician as the most of his compatriots. There was in him +something of the ancient humor and the ancient sweetness of them that +wrote and taught with Cicero, and though he thought as highly as any +Roman of them all of the honor and glory of the commonweal, he was so +much of a philosopher as to believe that honor and glory to be earned, +at least as much, by the welfare in mind and body of the citizens as by +the triumph of one party over another party. He was alive with all the +delicate and sensible charities, was forever scheming and planning to +lessen distress and lighten sorrows, and if he could have had his way +there would never have been a sick man or a poor man within the walls of +Florence. Toward this end, indeed, he employed the major portion of his +considerable wealth with more zeal, and yet at the same time with more +prudence, than any other benefactor in the city. Vacant spaces of land, +whose title-deeds lay to his credit, were now busy with men laying brick +upon brick for this building that was to be a little temple of learning, +and that building that was to be a hospital for the hurts and the +sufferings of troubled men, and this other that was in time to be a +church and sanctuary for the spirit as its fellow-edifices were +sanctuaries for the body and the mind.</p> + +<p>Messer Folco also gave largely in charities, both public and private, +and yet, for all his sweetness of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>generosity he was so shrewd a man +that none ever came to him twice with a lying tale or tempted his +beneficence with false credentials. He would say, and, indeed, I have +heard him say it, though he spoke not to me indeed, for I was never one +of those that he would have chosen for intimate conversation—he would +say that charity, to be of any service in the world, should be as stern +and swerveless a judge as ever Minos was. Like all good Florentines, he +loved the liberal arts, and no little share of his money went in the +encouragement of painters and musicians, and the gravers of bronze and +the workers of marble, and those whose splendid pleasure it was to shape +buildings that should be worthy of the city.</p> + +<p>As the top and crown of all these commendabilities, he had a very +liberal and hospitable spirit, loving to entertain, not indeed +ostentatiously, but still with so much of restrained magnificence as +became so wealthy and so honorable a man. It was in the service of this +spirit that Messer Folco, some good while after that lovers' meeting +which had been so strangely brought about, and which was to have so +strange an issue, made up his mind to give a great entertainment to all +his friends and lovers in the city. Because it might be said of him that +every man that knew him was his friend, and that many that knew him not +loved him for his good deeds and the clarity of his good name, it <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>came +about that the most part of Florence that were of Messer Folco's station +were bidden to come and make merry at the Palace of the Portinari. Among +the number, to his great satisfaction, was your poor servant who tells +you this tale.</p> + +<p>The Palace of the Portinari was a great and stately building, with great +and stately rooms inside it, stretching one out of another in what +seemed to be an endless succession of ordered richness, and behind the +great and stately house and within the great and stately walls that +girdled it lay such a garden as no other man in Florence owned, a garden +so well ordained after a plan so well conceived that though it was +spacious indeed, it seemed ten times more spacious than it really was +from the cunning and ingenuity with which its lawns and arbors, its +boscages and pergolas, its hedges and trees, its alleys and avenues were +adapted to lead the admiring wanderer on and on, and make him believe +that he should never come to the end of his tether.</p> + +<p>This garden was, for the most part, dedicated to the service of Monna +Beatrice and her girl friends in the daytime. In the evening Messer +Folco would often walk there with grave and learned elders like himself, +and stir the sweet air with changing old-time philosophies, while Monna +Beatrice and her maidens sang or danced or luted or played ball. Messer +Folco was a man that cherished the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>domesticities, and had no desire to +see his home distorted into a house of call where all had a right to +take him by the hand, and he held that the family life flourished best, +like certain plants, in seclusion. But as there is a time for all +things, so Messer Folco found a time for opening his doors to his +friends and acquaintances, and giving them the freedom of his sweet +garden, and bidding them eat and drink and dance and make merry to the +top of their desires, always, of course, under the control of such +decorum as was due to the noble life.</p> + +<p>It was to celebrate the laying of the foundation-stone of his hospital +that Messer Folco gave the entertainment of which I have just spoken and +whose eventful consequences I have yet to relate. It must, of course, be +clearly understood that I was not, and, indeed, could not be, always a +witness of the events recorded or a hearer of the words set down in my +narrative. But while it was my happy or sad fortune to witness many of +these events and to hear many of these words, it was also my privilege, +knowing, as I did, those that played their part in my tale, and those +that knew them well and loved them well, to gain so close a knowledge of +the deeds I did not witness and the words I did not hear as to make me +as creditable in the recording them as any historian of old time that +puts long speeches into the mouths of statesmen he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>never saw, and +repeats the harangues of embattled generals on fields where he never +fought. And so to come back to Messer Folco and his house and his garden +and his friends and the festival he gave them.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h2> + +<h3>DANTE READS RHYMES</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">he</span> +great hall of Messer Folco's house where now he received his guests, +and me among the number, was a mighty handsome piece of work, very brave +with gay color and rich hangings and the costly pelts of Asian beasts, +and very splendidly lit with an infinity of lamps of bronze that had +once illumined Cæsarian revels, and flambeaux that stood in sconces of +silver and sconces of brass very rarely wrought. At the farther end the +room gave through a colonnade on to the spacious garden which it was +Messer Folco's privilege to possess, a garden which, it was said, had +belonged in old time to a great noble of the stately Roman days. This +colonnade, be it noted, for all it looked so open and amiable, could be +shut off, if need were, by sliding doors, so as to make the room +defensible whenever the war-cries rattled in the streets and Guelph and +Ghibelline or Red and Yellow met in deadly grips together.</p> + +<p>When I arrived, and I was among the earliest visitors, for I dearly +loved all manner of merry-making, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>and thought it foolish to stand upon +my dignity and seem indifferent to mirth, and so come late and lose +pleasure—when I arrived, I say, the musicians were tuning their lutes +in the gallery on high, and Messer Folco was standing before the doorway +greeting his guests. Those that had forestalled me were moving hither +and thither over the smooth floor, and staring, for lack of other +employment, at the splendid tapestries, and impatient enough for the +dancing and the feasting to begin. And then, because I wished to be +courteous as becomes the careful guest, I wrung by his hand Messer +Folco, who, as I think, had no notion, or at best the dimmest, of who I +was, and I said to him, "Blessed be Heaven, Messer Folco, 'tis good to +have such a man as you in Florence."</p> + +<p>To which Messer Folco answered, returning with dignity my friendly +pressure, "'Tis good for any man to be in Florence; there is no place +like Florence from here to world's end."</p> + +<p>And then, as I stood something agape and framing a further speech, +another guest pushed by me and clasped Messer Folco's hand and addressed +him, saying, "So you have started a-building your new hospital. Will you +never have done being generous?"</p> + +<p>And because it always amuses me to watch give and take of talk between +human beings, I stood off one side, Messer Folco having done with me and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>forgotten me, and listened to the traffic of voices and the bandying of +compliments, and heard Messer Folco respond, "One that is happy enough +to be a citizen of Florence should be grateful for the favor."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the new-comer, whom I knew very well to be one that made +the most of his great monies by usury—"well," says he, "a man cannot +spend money better than by benefiting the disinherited."</p> + +<p>To which Messer Folco, eying him with gravity, and having, as I make no +doubt, his own opinion, answered, "So I think."</p> + +<p>Now, by this time the enthusiastic usurer had said his say and had his +audience, and was straightway pushed on one side. Then my usurer, not +knowing me, though indeed I knew him, or not liking the looks of me, as +indeed his looks were distasteful to me, for I think a man's money greed +is ever written in bitter ink upon the parchment of his face, passed +away into the crowd beyond. Thereafter there accosted Messer Folco a man +whose name I knew at the time but for the life of me I cannot recall it +now, and all that I can remember of him is that he was fat and affable +and a notorious giver and gleaner of gossip, as well as one that aped +acquaintance with the arts.</p> + +<p>"Messer Folco, your servant," he began, in a voice that was as fat as +his abdomen. Then went on, in a splutter of rapture, "Why, what a +company! <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>Here is all Florence, from base to apex." He paused for a +moment, and said behind his hand, in a loud whisper which came easily to +my ears, "Is the mysterious poet of your fellowship?" And he glanced +around knowingly, as if he hoped to divine the unknown among the +arriving guests.</p> + +<p>Messer Folco looked at him gravely. "What poet, friend?" he asked; and I +truly think he questioned in all honesty of ignorance as to the man's +meaning, and my jolly gossip answered, all agog with his knowledge:</p> + +<p>"Why, the poet we in Florence that have an ear for sweet sounds are all +talking of; the poet whose name no man knows, whose rhymes are on all +men's lips; the fellow that praises fair ladies as never fair ladies +were praised before since Orpheus carolled in Arcady."</p> + +<p>Then I noted how Messer Folco, with the air of one that did indeed +recall some idle rumor, looked at him curiously, as one that is puzzled +how busy men can interest themselves in such trifles as love rhymes, and +he answered, quietly, "I have given little heed to this wonder; I have +been too busy with bricks and mortar. Here comes one who may lighten our +darkness."</p> + +<p>Even as he spoke my ever beloved friend and the ever beloved friend of +all who were young with me and of all good Florentines, Messer Guido +Cavalcanti, came into the room.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p><p>Messer Folco wrung him heartily by the hand, for he loved him no less +than the rest of us. "Messer Guido, ever welcome," he cried, "never more +than now. Perhaps you can tell us—"</p> + +<p>But before he had time to say what he had to say, Messer Guido +Cavalcanti interrupted him, not uncivilly, but as one that wished to +spare a good man the pains of saying what his hearer already understood +as clearly as words could utter it. "I wager I know what you would say," +he declared. "Do I know the name of the unknown poet?"</p> + +<p>Messer Folco nodded. "Well, do you?" he asked, and those that were +standing about him, and especially my good fat gossip merchant that +aired his learning, pricked their ears to hear what Messer Guido might +have to say on a matter that tickled them. I, with my wider knowledge, +that I had kept steadfastly to myself, stood by and chuckled.</p> + +<p>For I had that inside my jerkin against my breast which, though indeed +it belonged to Messer Guido, Messer Guido had never yet seen, and I had +brought it with me to deliver to him. And it concerned the +subject-matter of the speech of Folco and his friends.</p> + +<p>But Messer Guido could say little to please them. "Why," he declared, "I +know no more than all Florence knows by this time, that some one has +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>written songs which all men sing, sonnets which all women sigh over. +There is a ballad of his addressed to all ladies that are learned in +love which is something more than beautiful."</p> + +<p>My jolly gossip nodded sagaciously. "Aye, but who made it?" he +questioned, sententiously, and looked as complacent as if he had said +something really wise.</p> + +<p>Guido saluted him politely. "Ask some one wiser than I."</p> + +<p>As for me, I grinned to think that I was that some one wiser, and that +Guido never suspected it.</p> + +<p>Messer Folco touched my dear friend lightly on the shoulder. "It was not +your honor's self?" he asked, benignly, with his shrewd eyes smiling +upon the handsome face.</p> + +<p>Messer Guido shook his head. "No, Messer Folco," he protested, "my +little wit flies my flag and wears my coat. If I could write such rhymes +as those I should never be mum about them, I promise you."</p> + +<p>Then, with a gracious gesture, as of apology for having failed to +satisfy the curiosity of those that accosted him, he saluted Messer +Folco and moved toward the centre of the room. I was on his heels in an +instant, for I wished for a word with him before he was unfindable in +the thick and press of his friends, and I had somewhat to say to him +concerning the very matter on which he had been <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>speaking. I caught him +by the arm, and he turned to greet me as he greeted all that knew him +and loved him, with a smile, and I whispered him, plucking a paper from +my breast.</p> + +<p>"Guido, heart, hearken. Here is a new song sent to your house that seems +better than all the others. I called at your lodgings and saw a scroll +on your table, and knowing what it must be, I made bold to read it, and, +having read it, to bear it to you."</p> + +<p>And Messer Guido answered me, eagerly: "I have not been home; I have +been all day with the cardinal. For love's sake, let me see." He took +the paper from me and read it over, and then he said to me, gravely: +"Why, this is better than the best we have had yet. This is the finish +of the ballad of fair Florentines. Here is the nightingale of Florence +singing his heart out for us, and we are at a loss for his name."</p> + +<p>Then I, being delighted at my own initiation into this mystery of the +nameless singer, and fired by Guido's praises of him, turned to those +about me, and the room had filled a little by this time, and I cried +out, as indeed I had no business to do in a house where at best I was +little more than a stranger. And this is what I said: "Gentles all, +squires and dames, loving and loved, here is rose-scented news for you. +The unknown poet has sung again, and Messer Guido has the words in his +fingers."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p><p>Now there came a hush of talking in the room as I said these words, and +Messer Guido looked at me something reprovingly, because of my +forwardness, and all eyes were fixed upon the pair of us.</p> + +<p>Then Messer Folco, moving close up to me, touched me on the shoulder and +said, with a quiet irony, "You are very good, sir, to be my major-domo."</p> + +<p>Instantly I bowed to the ground in sober recognition of my error. +"Forgive me the heat of my zeal," I protested. "I diminish, I dwindle, I +wither. Unless your pity forgives me, I shall evaporate into air."</p> + +<p>Then Messer Folco laughed good-humoredly, and, turning to Guido, said, +"Messer Guido, of your charity, let us hear."</p> + +<p>But Guido, the ever obliging, was here unwilling to oblige. "Shall the +owl croak the notes of the nightingale?" he asked, extending his open +palms in a gesture of emphatic denial.</p> + +<p>Now even at that moment, with Messer Guido politely declining, and +Messer Folco still in a mood between smiling and frowning on account of +my presumption, and I gaping open-mouthed, and the guests that were +gathered about us staring eagerly at the parchment which my dear friend +held in his hand, something curious occurred. There came a voice from +the press hard by me, a voice that I seemed to know very well and yet +that I could not on the instant name with the owner's name, and this +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>voice cried aloud, so that all present could hear the cry distinctly: +"Let Messer Dante read the rhymes!" Even as the voice spoke I saw the +reason for its spending of breath, for at that very moment Messer Dante +entered the hall, and was making his way toward Messer Folco with the +bearing of one that courteously salutes his host.</p> + +<p>I looked about me sharply to right and to left, in the hope that I might +by chance catch sight of the guest that thus called upon my friend, but +I could see no one to whom I could with any surety credit the utterance. +I observed, indeed, a certain youth that was cloaked as to his body and +masked as to his face slipping out of the crowd about me who might have +been the speaker, but whom I could in nowise identify. It was so much +the mode with many of us that were young in Florence to come—and +sometimes to come unbidden—to such galas as this of Messer Folco's in +antic habits and to hide our features with vizards, that there was +nothing in this costume to single out the youth whom I believed to be +the utterer of that call for Dante. There were many other masked and +muffled figures within the walls of Messer Folco's house that night as +hard to tell apart as one cherry from another. But whoever the speaker +may have been, the speech had the desired effect. Coupled as it so +timely was with the appearance of Dante under Messer Folco's roof, it +caught the fancy of all that heard it, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>each hearer echoed readily +enough the suggestion: "Let Messer Dante read the rhymes!" Thus it came +about that Messer Dante had scarcely gone many paces down the hall +toward his host when he became aware that he was the target of all eyes.</p> + +<p>Though he was surprised at this unexpected attention on the part of so +large a concourse of persons, he was in no sense taken aback or +embarrassed, but came quietly to a halt and looked with a curious and +composed scrutiny at the crowd of men and women that were all regarding +him so intently. As he did so, some one cried again, "Let Messer Dante +read the rhymes!" And this time Dante heard the words, and he saw also +how Messer Guido stood in the throng hard by to Folco and held in his +hands a roll of parchment. For a moment Dante showed some signs of +discomposure. He changed his fresh color a little to an unfamiliar +paleness, and his eyes meeting mine, they flashed a question at me which +I could but answer by a determined shake of the head. For I saw that +Dante's had a misgiving that I had revealed his secret, which indeed I +had not. Then Dante looked at Guido as if to question him, but before he +could speak Messer Folco had paid him a grave salutation and began to +address him gravely.</p> + +<p>"Messer Dante," he said, "you are very welcome to my house, and I greet +you cheerfully. Beyond <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>this it is fit that I should explain to you why, +in this instant of your coming, your name is in so many mouths. We were +speaking here but now of the unknown poet whose verses have of late at +once enraptured and bewildered our city, and many of us were entreating +Messer Guido, who holds in his hand the latest verses of the nameless +singer, to read them aloud to us. And he declining from, as we think, an +over-delicate sense of modesty, it was suggested by him or by another, I +know not, on seeing you enter, that you should read to us the rhymes in +question."</p> + +<p>Here Messer Folco bowed very courteously to Dante, but before Dante, who +seemed, as indeed he well might, somewhat at a loss what to say, could +utter a syllable in reply, Messer Guido had forestalled him.</p> + +<p>"There could not be a better choice," he protested, "though it was none +of my proposing. Messer Dante has a sweet and clear voice, and if it +will but please him to meet our entreaties we shall be indeed his +debtors."</p> + +<p>And as he spoke he thrust into Dante's hand the roll of parchment on +which the poem was written, and all that heard him applauded, and waited +for Dante to begin. Indeed, it was a common thing then, in places where +friend met friend, for one that had a voice to read somewhat aloud for +the delectation of the others, whether a pleasant tale in prose <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>or a +poetic canzonet. But Dante, while he took the parchment from Guido's +fingers, looked about him quietly and spoke, and his voice and words +were very decided in denial.</p> + +<p>"I do not know," he said, "why this privilege should be given to me, and +with your good leaves I will ask Messer Guido to find him a worthier +interpreter." With that he made as if he would put the parchment back +again into the hand of Messer Guido, and I could understand very well, +if no one else could, why he should be so unwilling to do this thing. +But you know how it is with a crowd: once any mob of men or women, or +men and women, gets an idea into its head, it is an adventure that would +trouble the devil to get it out again. Ever since the masked youth had +voiced his call for Messer Dante to read the poem, it had become the +assembly's hunger and thirst, will, desire, and determination that the +poem should be read by no other than Messer Dante, though I will dare +make wager that any single man or woman of them all, if individually +addressed, would as lief any other than Dante should take up the task. I +thought I caught a glimpse of my masked youth in another part of the +crowd prompting the demand. So Messer Guido, as herald of the general +wish, smilingly refused to take back the paper parchment, and Dante, +ever too wise to be stubborn for stubbornness' sake, surrendered, where +to persist in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>refusal would have seemed churlish to his host and to his +company.</p> + +<p>"Since you honor me so far," he said, with the wistful smile of one who +feels that chance has penned him in a corner, "I must needs obey." And +with the word he began to unroll the parchment carefully. As he did so +something moved me to look round, and I saw that Madonna Beatrice had +entered the great hall and had come to a halt, observing that something +unusual was toward.</p> + +<p>Madonna Beatrice stood arrested there among her maidens, pale and fair, +as an angel might stand, ranged about by radiant mortality. I never +could find then, and I never shall find, though I have tried often +enough, Lord knows, the exact word or exact sequence of words that +should fittingly convey the effect of her beauty, even upon those who +having seen it often seemed on each occasion to behold it for the first +time. Of her, as of every beauty that has graced the world since Helen +set fire to Troy, and Semiramis sent dead lovers adrift down the river +of Assyria, and Cleopatra charmed Cæsar and Antony and Heaven knows who +besides, it might be said that she had the familiar features of +womankind; but what it was that made those features so marvellous, ah! +there was the task for a greater poet than I to take upon his shoulders. +Even the great poet that loved her—and I keep his love-book on my shelf +to this hour, wedged in between <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>a regiment of the Fathers—even Dante +has told us nothing that shall serve to make the ages yet to come +understand what the woman was like that a man could love with so +rapturous a madness of passion. Sometimes I have thought, in my gropings +after the phrase to express her, that the word "luminous" was, perhaps, +of all single words, the word that seemed to hold shut in its casket the +most of the meaning that I sought to convey. There seemed to be about +her, even to me that was never her lover, a radiancy, a nimbus, as it +were, of celestial light that gave to pulsing flesh and running blood +and circumambient skin a quality that was, as it were, flamelike, +ethereal, unreal.</p> + +<p>Yet though the essence of her bodily being was, as I knew, so frail, +there was no show of frailness in her gracious presence. She was tall +for a woman, and her coloring was fresh and sane; her bust and limbs +were moulded with a wise and restrained generosity that became her +youth, and promised nobility of proportion for her maturity. She moved +with the smooth and lively carriage of a nymph down the woodland lawns, +with her head easily erect and her eyes steadily seeing the world. She +might almost have been the youngest of the Amazons or the latest of +those strange demi-deities that haunted the hills and woods and waters +until the death of the god Pan dealt them, too, their death-blow. Her +eyes had the clearness of a clear night in June; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>her lips were quick +with the brisk crimson of a pink quince. Oh, Saint Cupido, what vanity +is this, to essay to paint the unpaintable! Enough that she was young +and fair and shapely, and that if in her eyes there dwelt the +pensiveness of those whose very loveliness suggests a destined +melancholy, her lips were always smiling, and her greeting always +blithe, yet I seemed to see black care incarnate behind her, and I will +tell you why.</p> + +<p>Among the girls that were gathered about her, plump, comely, jolly girls +that were, I will readily confess it, more in my way of wooing than +their radiant mistress, there stood the figure of a thin and withered +man in black, with very white hair and very smooth, gray cheeks and very +bright, wise eyes. Him I knew to be Messer Tommaso Severo, that had +served the Portinari as leech for longer years than many in Florence +could count. He it was that had ushered Messer Folco himself into this +troublesome world, that is, however, less troublesome at Florence than +elsewhere. He had done the like for Madonna Beatrice, and from the hour +of her birth he, whom many blamed for a pagan cynicism and philosophic +disdain of humanity, had watched over her life with the tenderness that +watches the growth of some fair and unfamiliar flower. He was, besides +being a master-physician, one that was thoroughly learned in the science +of the stars, and I have always heard that the horoscope <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>he drew for my +lady Beatrice was the chief cause of his tireless devotion and care. To +her service he had dedicated the lees of his life and the ripeness of +his knowledge. It was he who had carried her away for so long a space of +years from the summer heats and winter colds of Florence to the green +temperance and tranquillity of the hills. It was he who at last, still +guided by that horoscope of which he alone knew the lesson, sanctioned +the maiden's return to the city, to live outside which, though even in +the loveliest places thereafter attainable, is to live in exile. I know +for sure that he said of his sweet charge that flesh and spirit were so +exquisitely poised in her perfect body that it needed but some breath of +fate to scatter them irrevocably apart, as a child's breath can scatter +the down of a dandelion to all the corners of a field. But though I +thought of this now, as I beheld the girl and the elder so close +together, I could not, for my life, believe it, seeing how buoyantly she +carried her beauty and the nobility of her color.</p> + +<p>Messer Dante still had the two ends of the roll of parchment in his +fingers as Madonna Beatrice entered the hall, and in the very instant of +her appearance he was aware of her presence, and I that was watching all +things at once, like Argus in the antique fable, I saw how his hands +trembled and how his lips quivered with the knowledge of her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>approach. +But otherwise he showed no sign of the advance of divinity, and holding +the parchment well before his face, rolling and unrolling as the duty +needed, he began to read what was written on the skin.</p> + +<p>The poem, as I already knew, made up the second part of a lengthy ballad +in praise of the ladies of Florence. It was cast in an allegorical +fashion, aiming to portray a pageant of fair women, each single verse +seeking to picture some one of the many lovely ladies that in those days +made Florence a very Venus Hill for the ravishment of the senses and the +stirring of the blood. I wish with all my heart that I could set the +whole of it down here, for it was most ingeniously fancied and handled, +and it was not over difficult for the admirers of any particular beauty +to pierce the dainty veil of symbolism with which the poet had pretended +to envelop her identity. Alas! my memory will not serve me to recall the +greater part of it, or, indeed, any but a little, though that little is +in truth the very kernel of the whole, and I have no copy of the ballad +by me to mend my memory. But, as I say, what I do remember is the +centre-jewel of its crown of song.</p> + +<p>My Dante read the verses that were his own verses in a voice that was +very even, melodious, but so sustained and tamed as to make it seem +plain to all that listened that he was dealing with somewhat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> whose +matter he had never seen before. And as he read each stanza, with its +laudation of some lovely lady that was one of the living graces and +glories of our city, those that spelled the cryptic riddle of its +meaning clapped their hands for pleasure and turned their eyes to where +the lady thus bepraised stood and smiled at her, and she, delighted, +would bridle and fidget with her fan and seek to maintain herself as if +she did not care one whit for what in reality she prized very highly. So +the river of sweet words ran on, sweetly voiced, and flowing in its +appointed course with a golden felicity of thought and phrase.</p> + +<p>Very soon the roll of parchment in Dante's right hand was larger by much +than the roll of parchment in Dante's left, and it was plain indeed to +all present that the reading and the poem were coming to an end. It was +also plain to all present that the utterance of the poet was growing +more agitated, and his manner more embarrassed and anxious, and it was +manifest to me, who watched him keenly, that he was trembling like a +cypress in a light wind. As he came to the last verse it seemed as if +some irresistible compulsion compelled him to turn his head in the +direction where Madonna Beatrice stood apart with her women and her +leech. As he did so the parchment fell from his suddenly parted fingers +and lay in two rolls at his feet. But, as if he were unaware of what had +happened, Dante <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>went on with his recitation of the poem. I could see +very clearly that the madness of love was wholly upon him, the madness +that makes a man lose all heed of what he does and be conscious of +naught save the presence of the beloved. He stood there rigid, as one +possessed, with his face turned in the direction where the lady Beatrice +stood amid her women, and his hands, newly liberated from the control of +the parchment that lay at his feet, were clasped together in a tight +embrace. And when I turned my gaze from him to her whose beauty he so +passionately regarded, I was aware that she too was under the spell of +his words, and was conscious of the adoration in his eyes. Truly that +boy and that girl, as they stood there in the clean springtide of their +youth and comeliness, seemed to me to be a pair very properly and +lovingly made by Heaven one for the other. "Here," said I to myself, "if +there be any truth in Messer Plato's theory of affinities, here is a +living proof of the Grecian whimsy. And here," I said to myself, "if +folk must needs marry—a thing I never could understand—here, as I +think, is an instance in which a man and a woman might really be happy +together, making true mates, lovers, and friends, finding life sweet to +share, and finding nothing in their union that was not noble and pure." +So I thought while my Dante was betraying his secret by repeating his +lesson without his book.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p><p>These were the words that he spoke with his eyes fixed upon the lady +Beatrice, and they live in my memory as fresh as they seemed on the day +when I first read them in Messer Guido's lodging, and the evening when I +first heard them in Messer Folco's hall. Here is what they said:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Blessed they name the lady whom I love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even as the angelic lips in Paradise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last shall bless her when she moves above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun and all the stars. But while mine eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Regard her ere she numbers the Nine Skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immortal in her mortal loveliness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can I be scorned if to my soul of sighs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth's blessing seems the greater, Heaven's the less?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Even as he came to an end in the great quiet that reigned over the +place, I saw how Dante grew of a sudden strangely pale, and how his body +swayed as if his senses were about to drown themselves in a swoon, and I +truly think that he would have fainted away and fallen to the ground in +the transport of his passion if I had not sprung forward from amid the +throng where I stood and caught him in my arms.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h2> + +<h3>GO-BETWEENS</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">o</span> +most of those that were present in Messer Folco's house that night it +was little less than impossible to misunderstand the meaning of those +latest rhymes that Messer Dante had read. Even if none had taken into +account the agitation that had come over my friend, and which at least +identified him in spirit with the substance of what he read, if it did +not patently proclaim him the author, at least it was staringly evident +that the stanza was a public tribute to the loveliness of Madonna +Beatrice. Did not her name of Beatrice imply blessedness, and was not +blessedness, terrestrial and celestial, the intimate theme of the +octave? Further, since I speak of the octave, were not those that had +nimble judgments and sprightly memories able to recall that Madonna +Beatrice's name was made up of eight letters, and then, following on +this pathway of knowledge, to discover that the first letter of each +line of the stanza corresponded in its order with the like letter in the +name of the daughter of Folco Portinari.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p><p>In the face of such an amazing revelation a kind of heavy silence +brooded awhile over the company, and lasted, indeed, as long as the +time, which was indeed but brief, that Dante lay in my arms in his +stupor. While some believed that in Dante they beheld—as in very truth +they did—the author of the poem, and in consequence the body of the +unknown poet that had haunted their imaginations, others merely +appreciated that the unknown poet, whoever he might be, had declared +himself very patently the adorer of Monna Beatrice, wherefore it was to +be inferred that all those other love-songs, which the golden youth of +Florence loved to murmur to the ears of their ladies, were so many roses +and lilies and violets laid on the same shrine.</p> + +<p>Whoever misunderstood the true meaning of what had happened, I think +that Messer Folco understood well enough, and was mightily little +pleased in the understanding. Though Dante had, indeed, the right to +claim nobility of birth, neither his station in the city nor his worldly +means were such as to commend him to Messer Folco's eyes as a declared +lover of his daughter. Whatever annoyance Messer Folco may have felt at +the untoward occurrence, he was too accomplished a gentleman to allow +any sign of chagrin to appear in his voice or countenance or demeanor. +He did no more than thank Dante, who had by this time quite overmastered +his passing weakness, for his courtesy in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>reading such very pleasing +verses. Then, turning to the guests that stood about, somewhat +disconcerted and puzzled by what had taken place, he addressed them in +loud tones, telling them that a slight banquet was set forth in the +adjacent room, and begged them to enjoy it before the dancing should +begin.</p> + +<p>At these pleasant tidings the most of Messer Folco's company were +greatly elated, and hastened to pair themselves off very merrily, and to +make their ways toward the banqueting-room, where, indeed, a very +delectable feast was spread, such an one as might have tickled the +palate and flattered the appetite of any of the high-livers and dainty +drinkers of old Rome. As our jolly Florentine lads and winsome +Florentine lasses ate and drank, they chattered of what they had just +heard, of what they had just seen, and were all agreed to a man Jack and +a woman Jill that Madonna Beatrice was a very flower of women, and that +if Messer Dante laid his heart at her feet it was no doubt a piece of +great presumption, but otherwise an act highly to be applauded. We were +very young in Florence in those days, and our hearts were always quick +to beat time to the drum-taps of love or any other high and generous +passion. If we have changed since, it is the fault of the changing years +and the loss of the Republic.</p> + +<p>I make no doubt that there were some who <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>grumbled and carped and +cavilled; said this and said that; grunted porcine over the pretty pass +things were coming to in the city when a nobody or a next-to-nobody like +young Dante of the Alighieri could presume to lift his impudent eyes to +a daughter of a man like Folco Portinari, one of the first citizens of +Florence, and a man that builded hospitals and basilicas at his own +expense. But the growls of these grumblers and carpers and snarlers did +not count in the general and genial applause that our youth gave to +mellifluous numbers and lovely love, and the thousand beautiful things +and thoughts that make this poor life of ours seem for a season Elysium. +So they feasted and prattled, and I turn to another theme.</p> + +<p>If the meaning of what Messer Dante said and the meaning of what Messer +Dante did was plain and over-plain to Messer Folco, it was surely in the +very nature of things no less plain to his daughter. To her, at least, +there can have been no riddle to read in the young man's words, in the +young man's actions. Love, splendid and fierce and humble, reigned in +the glowing words that he read, ruled his failing voice, swayed his +reeling figure. She could not question the identity of the Blessed One +whose beauty made the singer sacrilegious in the white-heat of his +devotion. She could not misinterpret the significance of the abandoned +parchment lying discarded where it had fallen on the floor while the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>reciter, with his sad eyes fixed upon her face, repeated so familiarly +the words which he was supposed never to have seen. For Beatrice, Dante +of the Alighieri was the author of the ballad in praise of fair +Florentines; for her he was the unknown poet whose fame had flamed +through Florence, and she was the lady that was praised with words of +such enchanting sweetness in his songs.</p> + +<p>While the guests were going toward the banquet as brisk as bees to +blossoms, Dante caught me by the hand and drew me apart, and entreated +me to seek speech with Beatrice, and to entreat her to grant him an +interview in private that very night. He dared not, so he said, approach +her himself, in the first place because the doing so might prove too +noticeable after what had occurred, and, in the second place, because he +feared that she had some cause of complaint against him, seeing that she +had of late refused him her salutation. He bade me urge her very +strenuously to grant his prayer, for his soul's sake and his body's +sake, that he might live and not die.</p> + +<p>Since I was ever willing to serve my friend, I agreed to do this thing, +and so left him to the care of Messer Guido, who came up on that instant +and addressed him in very loving terms, charging him with being indeed +the poet whose name they had sought so long. Dante not denying this, as +indeed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>denial would have been idle, even if Dante had been willing, as +indeed he never was, to utter such a falsehood, saying that he had not +done that which he had done, Messer Guido began to praise him in such +glowing words as would have made another man happy. But for Dante +happiness lay only in the kind thoughts of his lady, and the very shaft +of his ambition was only to please her. He listened very quietly while +Messer Guido praised him so highly, and I, for my part, set about +performing the task with which he had intrusted me.</p> + +<p>I did not know at the time, though I learned it later, that my mission, +if not forestalled, had in very truth been rendered much easier by the +action of another. That masked youth I told you of, who would needs have +Dante read his own poem that none there knew for his, was no other a +person than Monna Vittoria. Vittoria had ever a freakish humor for +slipping into man's apparel, which some of her friends found diverting +and others not, as the mood took them. Madonna Vittoria took it into her +head that she would be present at Messer Folco's festival, and to do so +was easy enough for her when once she had clothed her shapely body in +the habit of a cavalier, and flung a colored cloak about her, and curled +her locks up under a cap, and clapped a vizard upon her face. She went +to Messer Folco's house for this reason most of all, that she meant to +speak with Madonna Beatrice, a thing not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>ordinarily very easy to come +at for such as she. Indeed, there was no risk for her of discovery, +doing what she did in the way she did, with a man's jacket on her back +and a man's hose upon her legs.</p> + +<p>She came, as it seems, upon Beatrice in the early hours of the festival, +having bided her time till she should find Folco's daughter alone or +nearly so, and then and there addressed her earnestly with a request for +some private speech. In such a season of merry-making the request did +not come so strangely from a masked youth as to seem either insolent or +unfitting. But Beatrice knew at once that the voice was a woman's, and +so said, smilingly, as she drew a little apart with her challenger. Then +it appears that Vittoria unmasked and named herself, and that Beatrice +looked at her very steadily and gravely, and said no more than this: "I +have heard of you. You are very beautiful," the which words, as Vittoria +told me later, gave her a greater pleasure than any she had ever tasted +from the praises of men's lips.</p> + +<p>Vittoria said, "If you have heard of me, perhaps you will think that I +should not be here and seeking speech with you."</p> + +<p>To which Beatrice answered, very sweetly, that it was no part of the law +of her life to deny hearing to one that wished for speech with her, and +while she spoke she was still smiling kindly, and there was no anger in +her eyes and no scorn, but only a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>kind of sad wonder. Then Vittoria +said that she had made bold to do what she did for the sake of a friend +and for the sake of Beatrice herself. Thereat the manner of Beatrice, +albeit still courteous, grew colder, and she answered that she did not +know how the doings of any friend of Vittoria's could concern her, and +Vittoria knew that she guessed who the friend was.</p> + +<p>Vittoria said, "The friend of whom I speak, the friend whom I would +serve with you, is not and never has been more than my friend."</p> + +<p>At this Beatrice made a gesture as if to silence her and a movement as +if to leave her.</p> + +<p>But Vittoria barred her way and delayed her entreatingly, saying, "Do +not scorn me because I am what I am."</p> + +<p>Whom, thus entreated, Madonna Beatrice answered, very gently: "Indeed, I +do not scorn you for being what your are. I will not even say that I do +not understand you, for I have it in my heart that a woman must always +understand a woman, however different the way of the one may be from the +way of the other. And it might very well have happened, if our +upbringings had been other, that you were as I am and I as you."</p> + +<p>Vittoria answered: "I think not so, for God has so made you that you +would never care for the things I care for, and God has so made me that +I should always care for them."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p><p>Beatrice replied: "Very well, then; let us leave the matter with God, +who made us, and say to me what you wish to say."</p> + +<p>Then Vittoria told Beatrice of Dante, how he was devoted soul and body +to Beatrice, and how it was only in consequence of Vittoria's well-meant +but ill-proving advice that he at all sought her society. She told how +she had given that advice to save the youth from the hatred of Simone, +but had not told him this, telling him rather that by so doing he would +keep his love for Beatrice a secret from the world. Then the paleness of +Beatrice changed for a little to a soft red, and Vittoria saw that she +believed, and kissed her hand and left her. Thus it came about that my +labor was already lightened, though I knew it not when I set out to seek +for Beatrice on behalf of my friend.</p> + +<p>The good chance that sometimes favors the ambassadors of Love served me +in good stead very presently by affording me occasion to approach +Madonna Beatrice and engage her in speech, for she was ever courteous in +her bearing toward her father's guests. After we had discoursed for a +brief while on trifles, I, finding that where we stood and talked I +might speak with little fear of being overheard, straightway disclosed +my mission to her, and delivered my errand, putting it, as I think, in +words no less apt than choice, and making a very proper plea for my +friend, presenting, indeed, his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>petition so well that, though I say it +who, perhaps, should not say it, I do not think that he could have done +it any better himself. I made bold to add that my friend went in fear +that he had in some way offended her, but that I was very sure he would +be able to excuse himself to her eyes if only she would afford him the +opportunity to do so.</p> + +<p>Madonna Beatrice listened to me very quietly while I delivered myself of +my message and of such embroideries of my own as I saw fit to tag on to +its original simplicity, and though I thought I could discern that she +was affected not unkindly toward my friend, in spite of whatever fault +he might have committed, she did not in any way change color or display +any other of those signals by which ladies are accustomed to make +manifest their agitation when any whisper of love business is in the +air. When I had finished, she did no more at first than to ask me if, +indeed, Messer Dante was the unknown poet who had so delighted Florence.</p> + +<p>To which question I made answer that the truth was indeed so, at which +assurance she seemed to me at first to smile, and then to look sad, and +then to smile again. But when I was beginning to utter some golden words +in the praise of my friend's verses, she very sweetly but very surely +cut my compliments short, and gave me the answer to my embassy.</p> + +<p>"Tell Messer Dante," she said, "that he is so <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>great a poet that it were +scarcely gracious for me to refuse him the favor he asks, though, +indeed, he must know as well as I know that it is no small favor. It is +not perhaps fitting, and it certainly is not easy, for a maiden to +accord a lonely meeting to a youth, even when that youth has some reason +to call himself the maiden's friend. But I shall retire before this +festival comes to an end, and I shall walk awhile on the loggia above in +the moonlight and the sweet air before going to my sleep. If he will +come to me there I will speak with him and hear him speak for a little +while. Tell him I do this for the sake of his verses."</p> + +<p>Therewith she made me a suave salutation and turned to speak to another, +and I, finding myself thus amiably dismissed, and being very well +satisfied with the fruits of my enterprise, bowed very lowly before her, +and turned and went my ways, seeking my friend. Soon I found him with +many youths and elders about him, all as eager as Guido had been to +congratulate him on what he had done. But if Dante seemed pleased to +hear their praises, as it was only right he should seem pleased, he +showed still greater pleasure in beholding me and reading the message of +my smiling face.</p> + +<p>He made some excuse for quitting his company and drawing apart with me, +and when he had heard what I had got to say, I think that he looked the +happiest man that I had ever seen. "Heaven bless <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>my lady Beatrice for +her sovereign grace," he said, very softly and earnestly, and then he +wrung me very hard by the hand, and left me and went back to his +admirers, and thereafter, during the progress of the night's pleasures, +I saw him move and take his share with an unwonted brightness of +countenance and mirthfulness of bearing, and I was glad with all my +heart to see him so cheerful.</p> + +<p>Indeed, that was a cheering time, and the man or woman would have been +hard to please who found nothing to delight or to amuse at Messer +Folco's festival. To speak for myself, I had never known better +diversion. There was a whole world of pretty women assembled within +Messer Folco's walls, and I may as well confess here, if I have not +confessed it already, that I take great delectation in the companionship +of pretty women. How many little hands, I wonder, did I press that +night, with the tenderest protestations? How many kisses, I wonder, did +I venture to steal, or, rather, pretend to steal? for I swear the dainty +rogues met me half way in the matter of the robbery. Well, well, it was +all very merry and pleasant, and we feasted very gayly, and we danced +very nimbly, and we wandered in the green glooms of the garden, and then +we feasted anew, and after that we set to work to dancing in good +earnest. Save for a few, we all danced and danced and danced again, as +if we could dance the world back into its young-time.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV</h2> + +<h3>MESSER SIMONE SPOILS SPORT</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">he</span> +dance was at the very top of its progress; all the youths and +maidens were bright and smiling; the musicians scraped and plucked like +mad, and the strings quivered with happy melody. All about against the +wall the elders ranged at gaze, recalling wistfully or cheerfully, +according to their temperaments, the days when they, too, tripped +lightly to music and made love in a measure, and some old toes ached for +a caper. While the mirth was at its blithest there suddenly came an +interruption to the gayety, and in a twink, one knew not how, the dance +that had been so jovial and harmonious seemed suddenly resolved into its +individual elements, so many youths and men, and so many maids and +matrons staring at the thing that had thus suddenly marred their +pleasure. I, that had been placed by chance at a post in the dance the +most removed from the main door of the apartment, was not at first aware +of what had caused the commotion among the dancers; I was only aware of +the commotion and the pause in the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>dancing and the knowledge that the +faces of those near to me showed surprise or fear or wonder, according +to their instinct. Meanwhile the musicians in their gallery, knowing +nothing of any reason why they should stop, were still twitching their +strings busily, though no one marked them and no one danced to their +music. But I, being resolved to argue, as it were, from the effect to +the cause, pushed my way through the men and women that were huddled +together in my neighborhood, and then I came to an open space of the +floor, and face to face, at a distance, with the cause of the +disturbance.</p> + +<p>This cause was Messer Simone dei Bardi, who was standing in the centre +of the room with Messer Folco Portinari and other grave elders about +him, and he was talking in a loud voice, as it were, to them in +particular, but also in general to the assembled company. Now, I had +never in all my life felt any kindly liking for Messer Simone, but I had +to confess to myself that he cut something of a flourishing figure just +then and just there. While all of us that were gathered under Messer +Folco's roof were habited in our best bravery of velvets and soft stuffs +and furs and such gold trinkets and jewels as it were in our power to +display, and so looked very frivolous and foppish and at ease, Messer +Simone dei Bardi came among us clad as a soldier-citizen of a great +Republic should be clad <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>in time of danger to his nation. His huge bulk +was built about in steel, a great sword swung at his side, and though +his head was bare, a page in his livery stood close behind him resting +his master's helmet in the bend of his arm. So lapped in mail, so +menacing in carriage, Simone might have seemed some truculent effigy of +the god Mars suddenly appearing from the riven earth in a pastoral +gallantry of shepherds and shepherdesses.</p> + +<p>What he was saying he was saying very clearly with the purpose that all +should hear, and I among the rest benefited by what he said. It was to +this effect: that our enemies the Aretines were planning a secret stroke +at Florence, knowledge of which had come to his patriotic ears; and +according to the estimation of his mind, it was no time for Florentine +citizens to be singing and dancing and making merry when there was a +stroke to be struck with a strong hand against her enemies.</p> + +<p>These bellicose words of Messer Simone found their immediate echo in the +hearts of all men present; for to do us Florentines justice, we have +never loved frolicking so much that we did not like fighting a great +deal better, and we have never had private business or private pleasure +which we were not ready at a moment's notice to thrust on one side when +the great bell of the city sounded its warning of danger to the +Republic. So for the immediate time Messer Simone was the hour's hero, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>and dancing and banqueting and laughing and love-making were clean +forgotten, and every youth and every mature man there present, and, for +that matter, every elder, too, was eager to ring himself in steel and to +teach the devils of Arezzo of what stuff a Florentine citizen was made. +I must honestly and soberly confess that I myself was so readily +intoxicated with the heady wine of the excitement about me that I found +myself cheering and shouting as lustily as the rest, for the which I do +not blame myself, and that I found myself for the moment regarding +Messer Simone dei Bardi as a kind of hero, for the which I severely +blame myself even now, after all this lapse of years.</p> + +<p>When Messer Simone found that he had got the company, so to speak, in +the hollow of his hands, he was silent for a little while, looking about +him sharply, as if he were making sure of the courage and enthusiasm of +his fellow-citizens, and seeking to find in the press of flushed and +eager faces any countenance that seemed unwilling to answer to his call. +All about him the elders of the city were gathered giving and taking +counsel, giving, I think for the most part, more readily than taking, +and hurriedly revolving in their minds what were best to do for the city +in the crisis that Messer Simone had made plain to them. While these +deliberations went on, we that had been dancing danced no longer, nor +had desire to dance, and though some <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>talked among themselves, the main +kept silence, for the most part waiting upon events. By this time, my +wits having grown cooler and my old distrust of Messer Simone being +resuscitated, I scrutinized him closely as he stood there in his steel +coats, the centre figure of the assembly.</p> + +<p>As I looked at Messer Simone where he stood there, girt with strength in +every line of his body, in every curl of his crisp hair and short beard, +in the watchful ferocity of his eyes, he seemed to me a kind of symbol +of what man may be who is unlifted by any inspiration of divinity or +tincture of letters from the common herd. In him brute strength, brutish +desires, brutal passions were presented, so it seemed to my fancy, as a +kind of warning to others of what man may be that is content to be +merely man, with no higher thought in him than the gratification of his +instincts and his impulses. I have heard tell in travellers' tales of +strange lands, beneath fiercer suns than ours, where naked savages +disport themselves with the lawless assurance of wild beasts, and it +seemed to me—being always given to speculation—that Messer Simone, if +he found himself in such a company, would never be at a loss, but would +straightway be admitted to their ruffian fellowship. I think, indeed, he +would be better suited for such companionship than for citizenship of +the fair, the wise, the gifted, the civilized queen-city of Florence. +But <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>even as such savages are reported to have, in place of a higher +wit, such natural craft as Providence has implanted in the hearts of +foxes and hyenas and other such wild beasts, so Messer Simone, for all +his bestiality, could be cunning enough when it served his ends, as you +shall presently learn.</p> + +<p>In a little while Messer Simone began to speak again, and to tell his +hearers of the plan which he had formed for the service of Florence and +the confusion of her enemies. This plan, as you already know, was to be +furthered by the enrollment of all such among the youth of Florence as +desired to prove themselves true patriots into a body which was to be +known by the high-sounding name of the Company of Death, the meaning of +this title being that those who so enrolled themselves were prepared at +any moment to give their lives for the advantage of the mother-city. +Messer Simone's plan had, as we now learned, been applauded by all the +magnates, such as Messer Corso Donati and Messer Vieri dei Cerchi, and +had received the approval of the priors of the city. As the scheme was +due to Messer Simone, it was agreed on all hands that he should be its +leader so long as the Republic of Florence was in a state of war. +Whoever had taught him his lesson, Messer Simone had learned it +creditably enough. He talked well, and while you listened to him it was +hard not to feel that the Company of Death was indeed a very noble and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>hopeful thought, and that it might very well be the duty of all +honorable patriots to join it. But such thoughts might have cooled off +under reflection and deliberation if Messer Simone had not been at the +pains to prevent reflection and deliberation by a cunning stroke of +policy.</p> + +<p>So he pitched his loud voice some notes higher, bellowing like a bull of +Bashan as he rolled off sonorous sentences very deftly learned and +remembered, in which glory and the service of the state and the example +of old Rome were cleverly compounded into a most patriotic pasty. Even +as he was in the thick of his speaking there came a flourish of trumpets +at the door, and to the sound of that music there came into the room a +brace of pages that were habited in cloth of gold, and that bore on +their breasts the badge that showed them to be the servants of Messer +Simone. This pair of pages carried between them a mighty gold charger, +and on this charger lay a huge book of white vellum that was bound and +clasped in gold. These pages were followed by other two pages, one of +whom carried ink in a great golden ink-horn and sand in a golden basin, +while the other bore a kind of golden quiver that was stuffed full, not +indeed of arrows, but of quills of the gray goose. When this little +company of pages had come anigh to Messer Simone, who seemed to greet +their approach with great satisfaction, the pages that carried <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>the book +stood before their master, and Simone, stooping to the charger, +unclasped the great book and flung it open and showed that its leaves +were white and fair. The book-bearers supported the book so open, on the +charger, making themselves into a living desk, and he that carried the +ink and sand and he that carried the quills came alongside of them, and +stood quietly, waiting for their work to begin.</p> + +<p>Then Messer Simone struck with his open palm upon the smooth, fair +parchment, and cried aloud that in time to come this book would prove to +be one of the city's most precious possessions, for it was to be the +abiding record of those noble-souled patriots who had enrolled their +names upon the roll-call of the Company of Death. And he said again that +such a book would be, indeed, a catalogue of heroes; and after much more +talk to this purpose, he called upon all those present that had high +hearts and loved their mother-city to come forward and inscribe their +names, to their own eternal honor, upon the pages of the there presented +volume.</p> + +<p>Now at this there came a great shout of applause from many that listened +to Messer Simone, and because men in such an assemblage, at such an +hour, in such a mood of merry-making, are little likely to prove +thoughtful critics of what may be said by a big voice using big words, +it seemed to many of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>those there standing that Messer Simone's scheme +of the Company of Death was the best that had ever been schemed for the +salvation of the city, and that to write one's name on the pages of +Messer Simone's book was the noblest duty and proudest privilege of a +true citizen.</p> + +<p>There was a great hurrying and scurrying on the part of those that stood +around to get to the book and borrow quill and ink from the attendant +pages, and be among the earliest to deserve the honorable immortality +that Messer Simone promised. There were certain restrictions, so Messer +Simone explained, attendant upon the formation of the Company of Death. +Its members must be young men of no less than eighteen and no more than +thirty years of age. You will bear in mind that Messer Dante was but +just turned eighteen, and that Messer Guido was in his +eight-and-twentieth year. But no one thought of that at the time, not +even I, though it showed plain enough to me afterward. Furthermore, the +Companions were to be all unmarried men, such as therefore were free to +dedicate their lives to the cause of their country with a readiness that +was not to be expected or called for from men that had wives and +families.</p> + +<p>While Messer Simone thus explained, youth after youth of the young +gentlemen of Florence, both of the Reds and of the Yellows, came forward +and wrote their names with great zeal and many <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>flourishes on the +smooth, white parchment, and soon the white leaves began to be covered +thick with names, and still the would-be votaries came crowding about +the ink-bearer and the pen-bearer, and catching at the quills and +dipping them in the ink. As fast as a sheet was filled the attendant +would spill a stream of golden sand over the wet inscription and make +ready a fresh sheet for the feverish enthusiasm of the signatories.</p> + +<p>After a while Messer Simone called a halt in the business of signing, +and now he began to speak anew, and though his voice was rough and harsh +from all the talk that he had talked before, and though he rather +growled his words than gave them liberal utterance, yet what he said was +what he wanted to say, and came from his black heart with a very +damnable aptness. He was speaking in the praise of those Florentine +youths that had first enrolled their names in the book of the Company of +Death, and he was praising them ostentatiously for their valor and their +patriotism, and yet while he praised, I, listening, thought that his +praises were not very good to get, though some share of them was due to +me who had written my name on the pages of the big book, partly because +I had drunk much wine, and partly because I could never resist the +contagion of any enthusiasm, and partly because the pretty girl that was +by my side—I forget her name now—egged me on to the folly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p><p>After Simone had made an end of his laudations, he came to speak with a +rough scorn of those that were content to show their devotion to their +mother-city by no greater sacrifice than the serving to defend her in +case of an attack. While he spoke I could see that his eyes were fixed +upon the face of Dante, where he stood a little apart and watched and +listened. I had lost thought of Dante in my merry-makings and lost sight +of him in the hurly-burly, and now suddenly I saw him leaning against a +pillar a little apart, and looking at the eager crowd of youths and +Simone that was its central figure. If I had been a painter like Messer +Giotto it would have pleased me to paint in the same picture the faces +of those two men, the one no more than beastly flesh, and the other, as +it seemed to me, the iron lamp in which a sacred spirit burned +unceasingly, purifying with its glowing flame the human tabernacle. Then +Messer Simone gave a short laugh, and said, mockingly, that such +stay-at-home tactics were well enough for puling fellows that liked to +lie snug behind city walls and write puling sonnets, and would rather be +busy with such petty business than risk their fine skins in brisk +adventures.</p> + +<p>Now, as for the taunt in Messer Simone's speech, it was, as who should +say, an arrow that might have been aimed at the heart of many there, +even at my own poor heart, for I was myself an indifferent poet, as you +know by this time if you have not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>known it before. But I knew that +Messer Simone had no thought of me when he spoke, for indeed I do not +think he thought of me at all, and for my part I thought of him as +little as I could help, for I have no love for ugliness. Messer Guido +Cavalcanti, who was also there, he, too, was a poet, and a great poet, +but it was not of him that Messer Simone spoke, and if it had been it +would not have mattered, for Messer Guido would have cared no whit for +what Messer Simone said of him or thought of him, and now as Simone +spoke, Guido only stood there and laughed in his face, swaying gently +with the laughter.</p> + +<p>Messer Guido despised Simone dei Bardi, thinking him, what indeed he +was, a vulgar fellow, and making no concealment of his thought, and what +Messer Guido thought counted in Florence in those days, for he came of a +great race and was himself a very free-hearted and noble gentleman, +against whom no man had anything to say save this, that it was whispered +that he did not believe as a devout man should believe. This tale, for +my part, I hold to be exaggeration, thinking that Messer Guido, in the +curious clarity and balance of his mind, was less of a sceptic than of a +man who should say, standing in a strange country, "I do not know +whither my road shall lead me, and therefore I will not say that I do +know."</p> + +<p>Anyway, it was not with Messer Guido Cavalcanti <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>that Messer Simone dei +Bardi would have chosen to quarrel, unless the quarrel were forced upon +him, and then I will do him the justice to say that he would have fought +for his cause like the untameable male thing he was. But he had set his +eyes evilly upon Messer Dante while he had been speaking, and he kept +them fixed on Messer Dante's face now that he had made an end of +speaking. I saw that Dante's face flushed a little, even to the hair +above the high forehead, and his eyes for a moment seemed to widen and +brighten like those of some fierce, brave bird. Then he pushed his way +to the front of the company and looked up at Simone steadfastly, and his +arms were still folded across his body and his sharp-featured face was +tense with suppressed rage, and he spoke very quickly but clearly, too, +for all the quickness of his words.</p> + +<p>What he said was to this effect: "Messer Simone, I thank Heaven that it +may be possible for a man to write verses in the praise of his sweet +lady and to draw sword in the service of his sweet city. Because I think +that no man can honor his lady better than in honoring the city that is +blessed in giving her birth and blessed in sheltering her beauty, I +hereby very cheerfully and joyously give my name to be written on the +list of the Company of Death."</p> + +<p>Thereat there was a great cheering and shouting on the part of the +younger men, and they gathered <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>about Dante, hotly applauding him. My +heart was heavy within me, for I looked at the face of Simone dei Bardi +and saw that it shone with pleasure, and I looked at the face of Guido +Cavalcanti and saw that it was gray with pain, and I knew that Messer +Simone had gained his purpose. As I looked from face to face of the two +men that made such ill-matched enemies, Messer Guido Cavalcanti came +forward, and, taking a quill from him that held them, wrote his name on +the book of the Company of Death, just below the name of Dante.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV</h2> + +<h3>A SPY IN THE NIGHT</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">M</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">esser</span> +Simone had in his service, as you know already who have read this +record of mine, a fellow named Maleotti that was of great use to his +master—a brisk, insidious villain that was ever on good terms with all +the world, and never on such good terms with a man as when he was minded +to do him an ill turn, assuming, of course, that such ill turn was to +his own advantage or in the service of his master, Messer Simone dei +Bardi. To Messer Simone this fellow Maleotti was altogether devoted, as, +indeed, he had a right to be, for Simone was a good paymaster to all +those that served him, and he knew the value of Maleotti's tongue when +it had a lying tale to tell, and Maleotti's hand when it had a knife in +it and a man to be killed standing or lying near to its point.</p> + +<p>This Maleotti wisely, from his point of view, made it his business not +merely to serve Messer Simone to the best of his ability in those things +in which Messer Simone directly demanded his obedience and intelligence, +but he also was quick <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>to be of use to him in matters concerning which +Messer Simone was either ignorant or gave no direct instructions. It was +Maleotti's pleasure to mingle amid crowds and overhear talk, on the +chance of gleaning some knowledge which might be serviceable to his +patron, and, indeed, in this way it was said that he had heard not a few +things spoken heedlessly about Messer Simone which were duly carried to +Messer Simone's ears, and wrought their speakers much mischief. Also he +would, if he could find himself in company where his person and service +were unknown, in the wine-house or elsewhere, endeavor to engage those +about him in conversation which he would ever lead deftly to the subject +of his master and his master's purpose, and so win by a side wind, as it +were, a knowledge of Florentine opinion that more than once had been +valuable to Simone.</p> + +<p>Now it had occurred to this fellow, since the beginning of the feud +between Simone dei Bardi and Dante dei Alighieri, that it would be to +his master's advantage, and to his own, if thereby he pleased his +master, that he should set himself to spy upon Messer Dante and keep him +as frequently as might be under his eye. It was thus that Messer Simone +came to know—what, indeed, was no secret—that our Dante had devoted +himself very busily to the practice of arms, and was making great +progress therein. But this information, as I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>learned afterward, did +little more than to tickle Messer Simone and make him grin, for he +believed that he was invincible in arms, and that no man could stand +against him, in which belief he was somewhat excused by his long record +of successes, and it seemed to him no more than a sorry joke that a lad +and a scholar like Dante should really pit his pigmy self against +Simone's giantship. It was no information of Maleotti's that told Simone +the truth about the unknown poet. That, as you know, he found out for +himself, and if he did but despise any skill that Dante might attain in +arms, he had the clumsy man's horror of the thing he could not +understand, of the art of weaving words together to praise fair ladies +and win their hearts. Maleotti did not know what his master knew, +therefore, about Dante, but he came to know it on this night. For +Maleotti was among the hearers when Dante, yielding to Messer Guide's +insistence, consented to read the verses of the unknown poet, and his +quick eyes had been as keen as Messer Guido's to understand the meaning +of Dante's change of voice and color when Madonna Beatrice came into the +room.</p> + +<p>Now this fellow Maleotti, having, as it seems, nothing better to do with +his petty existence, must have judged, after this discovery, that it +might please his master in some fashion to keep an eye upon Messer Dante +what time he was the guest of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>Messer Folco of the Portinari on that +evening of high summer. And I believe it to be little less than certain +that he must have observed the meeting and the greeting between Monna +Beatrice and me, although it is no less certain that he could have heard +none of our speech. So when our speech, whatever it was, for it was all +nothing to Maleotti, had come to an end, and I had glided quietly away +from Madonna Beatrice and carried her message to my friend, the Maleotti +rascal still continued his observation of Messer Dante and his actions.</p> + +<p>As I learned afterward from one to whom Maleotti told the matter, he saw +at a later hour Messer Dante linger for a while in the garden as one +that is lost in thought. Maleotti swore that he seemed all of a sudden +to stiffen where he stood, even as a man in a catalepsy might do, and +that he stood so rigid and tense for the space, as it seemed to +Maleotti, of several minutes, though why he stood so or what the cause +of his immobility this Maleotti could in nowise conjecture. I, of +course, know very well that this was one of the moments when the God of +Love made itself manifest to him. But after a while, as he affirmed that +told it to me, Messer Dante seemed to shake off the trance or whatever +it was that held him possessed, and then, moving with the strange +steadiness of one that walks in his sleep, made through the most lonely +part of the garden for that wing of the house of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>Messer Folco where +Madonna Beatrice was lodged. Maleotti, creeping very stealthily at his +heels, saw how he came, after a space, to a little gate in the wall, and +how, as it seemed to Maleotti, the gate lay open before him, and how +Messer Dante straightway passed through the open gateway and so out of +his sight.</p> + +<p>Now Maleotti, who was as familiar with the house of Messer Folco as he +was with his own garret in the dwelling of Messer Simone dei Bardi, knew +that this gateway gave on a winding flight of stairs that led to an open +loggia, on the farther side of which lay the door of Madonna Beatrice's +apartments. Whereupon it pleased this Maleotti, putting two and two +together, after the manner of his kind, and making God knows what of +them, to be quick with villanous suspicions and to be pricked with a +violent desire to let his master know what had happened, partly, as I +believe, knowing the vile nature of the man, because he thought the +knowledge he had to impart might prove a little galling to his master. +However that may be, for in his damnable way he was a faithful servant +to his lord, he waited awhile until he saw that Beatrice walked on the +loggia and that Dante came to her, and that she seemed to greet him as +one expected. Now it taxes no more the wit of a rogue than the wit of an +honest man to guess that when two young people stand apart and talk, it +is God's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>gold to the devil's silver that they talk love-talk. So as +Maleotti had seen enough, and durst not go nearer to hear aught, he made +his way back as swiftly as he could through the green and silent garden +to the noisy rooms within the house where folk still were dancing and +singing and eating and drinking and making merry, as if they knew not +when they should be merry again.</p> + +<p>High at the table Maleotti spied his master, Messer Simone. He had now +disarmed, and sat, very big with meat and drink and very red of face, +talking loudly to a company of obsequious gentlemen who thought, or +seemed to think, his utterances oracular. A good way off, at the head of +his own table, sat Messer Folco, grave and gray and smiling, his one +thought seeming to be that those that came under his roof should be +happy in their own way, so long as that way accorded with the decorum +expected of Florentine citizens. I fancy that his glance must have +fallen more than once, and that unadmiringly, upon that part of the +table where Messer Simone sat and babbled and brawled and drank, as if +drinking were a new fashion which he was resolved to test to the +uttermost. Messer Simone, being such a mighty giant of a man, was +appropriately mighty in his appetites, and could, I truly believe, eat +more and drink more, and in other animal ways enjoy himself more, than +any man in all Italy. But though he would, and often <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>did, drink himself +drunk at the feasts where he was a guest, as very notably in that case +where he made his wager with Monna Vittoria, he could, if need were, and +if occasion called for the use of his activities, shake off the stupor +of wine and the lethargy of gluttony and be ready for any business that +was fitted to the limitations of his intelligence and the strength of +his arms.</p> + +<p>Such ways as Messer Simone's, however, were distasteful to the major +part of our Florentine gentry, who always cherished a certain decorum in +their bodily pleasures and admired a certain restraint at table, and +what they approved was naturally even more highly esteemed and commended +by Messer Folco Portinari, who was very fastidious in all his public +commerce with the world, and punctilious in the observance of the laws +and doctrines of good manners. How such a man could ever have consented +to consider Messer Simone for a single moment as a suitor for his +daughter passes my understanding. But Messer Simone was rich and +powerful and of a great house, and Messer Folco loved riches and power +and good birth as dearly as ever a woman loved jewels.</p> + +<p>However that may be, our Maleotti got near to Simone, and after trying +unavailingly to catch the attention of his eye, made so bold as to come +hard by him and to pluck him by the sleeve of his doublet once or twice. +This failing to stir Messer Simone, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>who was thorough in his cups, +Maleotti spurred his resolve a pace further, and first whispered and +then shrieked a call into Messer Simone's ear. The whisper Messer Simone +passed unheeded, the shriek roused him. He turned in his seat with an +oath, and, gripping Maleotti by the shoulder, peered ferociously into +his face. Then, for all his drinking, being clear-headed enough to +recognize his henchman's countenance, he realized that the fellow might +have some immediate business with him, and, relaxing his grip, he asked +Maleotti none too affably what he wanted. Thereupon, Maleotti explained +that he needed some private speech with his master, and very anxiously +and urgently beckoned to him to quit the table and to come apart, the +which thing Messer Simone very unwillingly, and volubly cursing, did.</p> + +<p>But when he had risen from the table and quitted the circle of the +revellers, and stood quite apart from curious ears, if any curious ears +there were, his manner changed as he listened to the hurried story that +Maleotti had to tell him. The news, as it filtered through his +wine-clogged brain, seemed to clarify his senses and quicken his wits. +He was, as I guess, no longer the truculent, wine-soaked ruffian, but +all of a sudden the man of action, as alert and responsive as if some +one had come to tell him that the enemy were thundering at the city's +gates. He asked Maleotti, as I understand, if he were very <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>sure of what +he said and of what he saw, and when Maleotti persisted in his +statement, Messer Simone fell for a while into a musing mood that was no +stupor of intoxication. Once or twice he made as if to speak to his +fellow, and then paused to think again, and it was not until after some +minutes that he finally decided upon his course of action.</p> + +<p>I think it would have pleased Messer Simone best if this spying creature +of his had waited for Dante when he came from his meeting, and stabbed +him as he passed. But he thought, as I believe, that what had not been +done by the man might very well be done by the master, and with that, as +I conceive, for his most immediate intention, he had Maleotti wait for +him in the garden. There in a little while he joined him, and the two +went together toward the part of the palace where Beatrice had her +dwelling. But when they came to the gateway beneath the loggia where +Beatrice had talked with Dante, the lovers had parted, and Dante had +gone his ways and Beatrice had returned to her rooms. Then Messer Simone +turned to his follower and bade him hasten to Messer Folco, where he sat +at his wine, and get his private ear, and tell him that a man was having +speech with his daughter on the threshold of her apartments. Messer +Simone knew well enough how great an effect such a piece of news would +have upon the austere nature of his host, and I make no doubt <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>that his +red face grinned in the moonlight as he dispatched his fellow upon his +errand. When Maleotti had gone, Messer Simone slowly ascended the +staircase that conducted to the loggia, and concealed himself very +effectually behind a pillar in a dark corner hard by the door of +Beatrice's rooms.</p> + +<p>I have stood upon that loggia in later years, and looked out upon +Florence when all the colors of summer were gay about the city. I know +that the prospect is as fair as man could desire to behold, and I know +that there was one exiled heart which ached to be denied that prospect +and who died in exile denied it forever. I dare swear that his latest +thoughts carried him back to that moon-lit night of July when he made +bold to climb the private stair and seek private speech with Madonna +Beatrice. I can guess very well how the scene showed that night in the +moonbeams—all the city stretched out below, a harlequin's coat of black +and silver, according to the disposition of the homes and the open +spaces with their lights and shadows. I can fancy how, through the +gilded air, came the cheerful sounds of the dancing and the luting and +the laughter and the festival, and how all Florence seemed to be, as it +were, one wonderful, perfect flower of warmth and color and joy.</p> + +<p>It is all very long ago, this time of which I write, and it may very +well be that I exaggerate its raptures, as they say—though in this I do +not agree—is <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>the way with elders when they recall the sweet, +honey-tinted, honey-tasting days of their youth. It would not be +possible for any man to overpraise the glories and beauties of Florence +in those days. Those glories, as I think, may be said to have come to an +end with the Jubilee of His Holiness Pope Boniface the Eighth, the poor +pope who was said to be killed by command of the French king, but who, +as I have heard tell, escaped from that fate and died a nameless hermit +in a forest of Greece.</p> + +<p>However that may be, I am glad to think, for all that I am now so +chastened, and for all that I have learned patience, that I can recall +so clearly that pillared place with the moonbeams dappling the marble, +and can rekindle in my withered anatomy something of the noble fire that +burned in the heart of Dante, as he stood there in his youth and his +hope and his love, and looked into the eyes of his marvellous lady. +Also, I am glad to think that I know much of the words that passed +between the youth and the maid in that hour, and if not their exact +substance, at least their purport. For though Dante never made +confidence to me of a matter so sacred as the speech exchanged at such +an interview, yet he spoke of it to Messer Guido, whom, after he had +entered into terms of friendship with him, he loved and trusted, very +rightly, better than me. Also—for that was his way—he set much <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>of +that night's discourse into the form of a song which he gave to Messer +Guido. Messer Guido, before his melancholy end, over which, as I +believe, the Muses still weep, knowing how great a concern I had in the +doings of Messer Dante, told me with great clarity the essence of what +Dante had told to him, and showed me the poem, not only allowing me to +read it, but granting me permission, if it so pleased me, to take a +copy. This, indeed, I should have done, but being, as I always have +been, a lazy knave, I neglected to do, thinking that any time would +serve as well as the present, and being, as I fear, entangled in some +pleasant pastime with a light o' love or two that interfered with such +serious interests as I owned in life, and of which certainly none should +have been more serious than any matter concerning my dear friend and +poet. Then, when it was too late for me to amend my error, came Messer +Guido's death, and no man knows now what became of those verses.</p> + +<p>As for me, I cannot remember them, try I never so hard to cudgel my +brains for their meaning and sequence. Sometimes, indeed, at night, in +sleep, I seem to see them plain and staring before me on a smooth page +of parchment, every word clear, every rhyme legible, the beautiful +thoughts set forth in a beautiful hand of write; but when I wake they +have all vanished. Sometimes on an evening of late summer, when the +winds are blowing softly <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>through the roses and filling the air with +odors almost unbearably sweet, it seems to me as if the sweet voices of +lovers were chanting those lines, and that I have only to listen +heedfully to have them for my own again. But it is all in vain that I +try to remember them to any profit. A few phrases buzz in my own brains, +but they are no more than phrases, such as I, or any man that was at all +nimble in the spinning of words, might use about love and a sweet lady, +and there are not enough of them left to build up again the noble +structure of so splendid a vision.</p> + +<p>Well, as I say, Messer Dante, having quitted the festivity, made his way +into the garden, where he lingered a little while. Then it seemed to him +that the God of Love appeared to him in the same form as before, only +more glorious, and bade him follow, and he went, guided, as it seemed to +him, ever by that strange and luminous presence through this path and +that path, till he came to the appointed staircase and climbed it, +following ever the winged feet of Love. When he came to the top of the +stairway he passed through a little door on to the open, moon-drenched +loggia, and straightway his first thought was that he beheld the stars, +seeing that they seemed to him to shine so very brightly in heaven after +the blackness of the darkness through which he had passed. And I think +it must be some memory of that night which has made <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>him thrice record +with much significant insistence his beholding of the stars.</p> + +<p>In the mingled moonlight and starlight of the loggia the figure of the +God of Love showed, he said, as clearly to his eyes as when he had +ascended the winding stair, albeit differently, for whereas in the +darkness the shape of Love had appeared to him luminous and fluttering, +as if it had been composed of many living and tinted fires, now in the +clear light of that open space it showed more like a bodily presence, +not human indeed, but wearing such humanity as it pleased the gods of +old time to assume when they condescended to commune with mortals. I +remember how he said, in the poem which I spoke of, that he could have +counted, had he the leisure, every feather in Love's wings. But the god, +or the vision which he took to be a god, gave him no such leisure, for +he came to a halt, and he had his arrow in his hand, and with that arrow +he pointed before him, and then the image of the God of Love melted into +the moonlight and vanished, and the glory of the stars was forgotten, +and Dante knew of nothing and cared for nothing but that his lady +Beatrice stood there awaiting him.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI</h2> + +<h3>THE TALK OF LOVERS</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">W</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">hen</span> +Dante came to the loggia it was very white in the moonlight, save +where the shadows of the marble pillars barred it with bands of black. +Amid the moonlight and the shade Beatrice walked, and waited for his +coming. When she heard his footsteps she came to a halt in her course, +and he, as he advanced, could see the shining of her eyes and the +quickened color of her cheeks; and it seemed to him in his rapture that +he did not move as mortals do, but that he went on winged feet toward +that vision of perfect loveliness. But when he came nigh to her, so near +that if he had stretched out his arm he could have touched her with his +hand, he stopped, and while he longed with all his soul to speak, the +use of words seemed suddenly to be forbidden to him, and his members +began to tremble again, as they had trembled before, when he came to an +end of reading the poem.</p> + +<p>Madonna Beatrice saw the case he was in, and her heart pitied him, and, +perchance, she marvelled that Dante, who carried himself so valiantly +and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>could make songs of such surpassing sweetness, should be so +downcast and discomfited in the presence of her eighteen years. However +that may be, she addressed him, and the sound of her voice fell very +fresh and soft upon his ears, enriching the summer splendor of the night +with its music as her beauty enhanced its glory with the glory of her +bodily presence. "What have you to say to me," she asked, "that is so +urgent that it cannot wait for the day?"</p> + +<p>At this question Dante seemed to pluck up some courage—not much, +indeed, but still a little; and he made bold to answer her after the +manner that is called symbolic, and this, or something like this, is +what he said:</p> + +<p>"Madonna, I may compare myself to a man that is going on a journey very +instantly, and since no man that rides out of a gate can say to himself +very surely that he will ride in again, I have certain thoughts in my +heart that clamor to make themselves known to you, and will not by any +means be gainsaid if I can at all compass the way to utter them."</p> + +<p>Beatrice smiled at him very kindly in the moonlight, for the youth in +his voice appealed very earnestly to the youth in her heart, and it may +be to a gaingiving that had also its lodging in her body and warned her +of youth's briefness.</p> + +<p>While she smiled she spoke. "Many would say <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>that I lacked modesty if +they knew that I talked with you thus belated and unknown, but I think +that I know you too well, though I know you so little, to have any doubt +of your honesty and well-meaning."</p> + +<p>At the kindness in her voice and the confidence of her trust Dante +carried himself very straight and held his head very high for pride at +her words, and he was so strangely happy that he was amazed to find +himself even more happy than he had hoped to be in her presence.</p> + +<p>With that blissful exaltation upon him, he addressed her again. "Lady, +when a traveller takes the road, if he has possessions, and if he be a +wise man, he makes him a will, which he leaves in safe hands, and he +sets all his poor affairs in order as well as may be. And he leaves this +possession to this kinsman, and that gift to that friend, till all that +he has is properly allotted, so that his affairs may be straight if evil +befall. But I, when I go upon a journey, have no greater estate than my +heart to bequeath." He paused for a moment, watching her wistfully, and +seeing that her face was changeless in the moonlight, showing no sign +either of impatience or of tolerance, he spoke again, in a very low +voice, asking her, "Have I your leave to go on with what I am hot to +say?"</p> + +<p>"You may go on," Beatrice answered him, and her voice seemed calm as she +spoke.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p><p>But if Dante had known women better—if he had been like me, for +instance—he would have known that, for all her show of calm, she was no +less agitated than he who stood before her and adored her. But he only +saw her divinely aloof and himself most humanly mortal. Yet he took +courage from her permission to speak again. "Madonna, ever since that +sacred day when you gave me the rose that I carry next my heart, my mind +has had no other thought but of you, and my life no other purpose than +to be worthy, if only in a little, of your esteem. Yet, for some reason +unknown to me, you have of late, in any chance encounter, chosen to +withdraw from me the solace of your salutation, and I grieve bitterly +that this is so, though I know not why it is so."</p> + +<p>"Let that pass," said Beatrice, gently, "and be as if it had not been. I +had heard that you kept light company. Young men often do so, and it is +no part of my duty to judge them. But you yourself, Messer Dante, +invited my judgment, challenged my esteem, told me that for my sake you +meant to do great things, prove yourself noble, a man I must admire. +When, after all the fine-sounding promises, I found you counted by +gossip as the companion of Vittoria, you need not wonder if I was +disappointed, and if my disappointment showed itself plainly on my +averted face."</p> + +<p>"Madonna," Dante began, eagerly, but the girl <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>lifted her hand to check +interruption, and Dante held his peace as the girl continued to speak.</p> + +<p>"I know now that I was wrong in my reading of your deed; that what you +did, you did for a reason that you believed to be both wise and good. +Though I do not think that it is ever well for a true man to play an +untrue part, yet I know that you acted thus in the thought of serving +me. So let it pass, and be as if it had not been."</p> + +<p>She was silent, and for a little while Dante was silent too, staring at +her beautiful face and clasping his hands tightly together, as one that +has much to say and knows not how to say it. Once and again his lips +that parted to speak closed again, for if he rejoiced greatly to stand +there in her presence and be free to speak his mind unimpeded, yet also +he feared greatly lest the words he might utter should prove unworthy of +this golden chance given him by Heaven.</p> + +<p>But at length his longing conquered his alarm, and he spoke quickly. +"Hear me, Beatrice," he pleaded. "My heart is young, and I will never be +so vain as to swear that it is untainted by the folly of youth, or free +from the pride of youth, or clean of the greed of youth. But now it is +swept and garnished, made as a fair shrine for a divine idol, for a +woman, for a girl, for an angel—for you!"</p> + +<p>Beatrice looked very steadfastly upon the eager face of her lover while +she listened to his eager <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>words, and when he paused she began to murmur +very softly the opening lines of one of the sonnets that Dante had +written in those days of his secrecy:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The lady that is angel of my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She knows not of my love and may not know—"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>She stopped and looked at Dante as if she questioned him, and Dante +answered her by carrying on the lines:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Until God's finger gives the sign to show<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I to her the secret may impart."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He paused for a moment, rejoicing to think that she had so far cherished +his verses; then he went on, eagerly: "God's finger gives me the sign +to-night, and I will speak, lest I die with the message of my soul +undelivered. I love you." It seemed to him that she must needs hear the +fierce beatings of his heart as he spoke these words.</p> + +<p>Beatrice looked at him with a melancholy smile. "Is that the message of +your soul?" she asked.</p> + +<p>And Dante answered: "That is my soul itself. All my being is uplifted by +my love for you. It has made a new heaven and a new earth for me: a new +heaven whither you shall guide me, a new earth where I shall walk more +bravely, and yet more warily, than of old, fearing nothing, for your +sake, save only to be found unworthy to say, 'I love you.'"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p><p>If Dante spoke with a passionate happiness in thus setting free his +soul, there was happiness too, in Beatrice's voice as she answered him. +"I am, indeed, content to hear you speak, for your words seem, as words +seldom seem in this city and in this world, to be quite true words. So +when you say you love me, I feel neither agitation, nor flattered +vanity, nor amazement—all which feelings, as I have read in books and +heard of gossips, are proper to maidens in these hours. Only I know that +I believe you, and that I am glad to believe you."</p> + +<p>Dante interrupted her, crying her name with passionate +eagerness—"Beatrice!" But he kept the place where he stood.</p> + +<p>The girl spoke again, finishing her thought. "And I think you will +always be worthy to offer love and to win love."</p> + +<p>Dante moved a little nearer to her, and he stretched out his hands as +one that begs a great gift. "Beatrice," he entreated, "will you give me +your love?"</p> + +<p>The smile that was partly kind and partly wistful came again to the +girl's face. "Messer Dante, Messer Dante," she said, "how can you ask, +and how can I answer? A raw youth and a green girl do not make the world +between them, nor change the world's laws, nor the laws of this little +city, nor the laws of my father in my father's house. And my father's +law is like a hand upon my lips, forbidding <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>them to speak, and like a +hand upon my heart, forbidding it to beat."</p> + +<p>Dante protested very vehemently, in all the zeal and freshness of his +youth. "The law of Love is greater than all other laws. The strength of +Love is stronger than all strength. The sword of Love is stronger than +the archangel's sword, and conquers all enemies."</p> + +<p>Beatrice shook her head at her lover's fury, and her eyes shone very +brightly in the moonlight. "Oh, Dante! Dante!" she said, softly, "if +this were indeed so, the world would be an easier world for lovers. If +you were to tell my father what you have told me, or if I were to tell +my father what I have told you, he would twit us for a pair of silly +children, and take good heed that we were kept apart. If you were to ask +my father for me, he would deny you, and laugh while he denied; for my +father is a proud man, and one that loves wealth and power very greatly, +and will not give his child save where wealth and power abide. If he +were to come upon us here, now, where we talk alone in the moonlight, he +would raise his hand to slay you, and he has not a neighbor nor a friend +but would say he did right. You know all this, even as I know it. Why, +then, do you ask me to give what I cannot give?"</p> + +<p>She was very calm and sad as she spoke, and the truth that was in her +mournful words was not to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>be denied by Dante. But all the ardors of his +being were spurred by his consciousness that he had made known his love +for her, and that she, surely, had scarcely done less than confess her +love for him, and while such sweet happenings hallowed the world, it did +not seem to the poet possible that any mortal power could come between +them. And in this confidence he addressed his beloved again, all on +fire.</p> + +<p>"Dear woman," he urged, "not all the fathers in Florence can bind our +spirits. I love you now, I shall love you while I live—in hunger and +thirst, in feasting and singing, in the church and in the street, in +sorrow and in joy, in cross or success. My life and every great and +little thing within my life is sanctified to a sacrament by my love for +you. Cannot your spirit, that is as free as mine, uplift my heart with a +word?"</p> + +<p>So he petitioned her, ardently, and his warmth found favor in the girl's +grave, watchful eyes.</p> + +<p>"I have heard you praised highly of late," she said, "and men give you +great promise. But, truly, I judge you with the sight of my own eyes, +not with the sound of others' words. And I think you are indeed a man +that a woman might be happy to love."</p> + +<p>Dante's heart leaped to hear such sweet speech, and for very joy he was +silent awhile. Then he said: "If I be indeed anything worth weighing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span>in +the scales of your favor, it is for your sake that I have made myself +so, Madonna."</p> + +<p>Beatrice laughed a little, very gently, at his words, and pretended to +frown, and failed. "My cold reason," she asserted, "tells me that I +would rather you bettered yourself just for the sake of being better, +and with no less unselfish intention; but, to be honest, my warm heart +throbs at your homage."</p> + +<p>Dante would have come closer, but she stayed him with a gesture. "You +make me very proud," he murmured.</p> + +<p>Beatrice went on. "Yet I know well that men have done greatly to please +women that were not worth the pleasing, or merely for the lure of some +grace of hand or lip. I should like to think that my lover would always +live at his best for my sake, though he never won a kiss of me."</p> + +<p>"Then here I swear it," Dante said, proudly, "to dedicate my life to +your service, and to make all honorable proof of my devotion. But you, +beloved, will you not give me some words of hope?"</p> + +<p>Beatrice extended her hands to him, and he caught those dear hands in +his, and held them tightly, and Beatrice was smiling as she spoke, +although there were tears in her eyes. "So far," she said, "as a woman +can promise the life that is guided by another's law, I give you my +life, Dante. But my love is my own, to hold or to yield, and I give it +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>all to you with all my heart, knowing that because you think it worth +the winning, you will be worthy of what you have won."</p> + +<p>Now, as I think, here my Dante made to take his lady in his arms, but +she denied him, very delicately and gently, pleading with such sweet +reason that the most ardent lover in the world could not refuse her +obedience. For she would have it thus, that until their love could be +avowed, as in time it might be, if Dante won to fame and honor in the +state, until their love could be avowed there should be no lover's +commerce between them, not even to the changing of a kiss. For she would +not have him nor her act otherwise than in perfect honorability as +befitted their great love. Because Dante did, indeed, cherish a great +love for her, that was greater than all temptings of the flesh, he let +it be as she wished. So this pair, that were almost as the angels in the +greatness of their love, pledged their troths with the simplicity of +children, and parted with the innocence of children, as gentle and as +chaste.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII</h2> + +<h3>A STRANGE BETROTHAL</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">W</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">hat</span> +happened now happened after I had left the festival, but I heard +all the facts later from eye-witnesses, so that I honestly think I can +make it as plain a tale as if I had seen the things myself. Messer +Maleotti, doing as he was told and rejoicing in the thought that he was +making mischief, came into the feasting-hall where Messer Folco sat +apart with certain old friends and kinsfolk of his, sober gentlefolk of +age and repute, that made merry in their grave way and laughed +cheerfully over the jests of yesteryear, and one of them was Master +Tommaso Severo, that was Madonna Beatrice's physician. Now Maleotti, +catching sight of a certain ancient servant of Messer Folco's, whom he +knew well to be an honest man and one much trusted by his master, made +for him and drew him a little apart, and whispered into his ear that +very amazing message with which Messer Simone had intrusted him.</p> + +<p>This message, bluntly and baldly stated, came to this: that Maleotti, +taking his ease in the garden <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>and wandering this way and that, came at +last by chance beneath the walls of that part of the palace where +Madonna Beatrice dwelt. There, on the loggia, very plain in the +moonlight, he saw Madonna Beatrice in discourse with a man. Though the +moonlight was bright and showed the face of Madonna Beatrice very +distinctly, the man stood at an angle, as it were, and he could make +nothing of him, face or figure. Such was the story which Maleotti, +primed thereto by Simone, had to tell. At first the man to whom he told +it seemed incredulous, as well he might be, albeit it chanced the tale +was true, and then he became doubtful—for, after all, youth is youth +and love love—and finally, upon Maleotti's insistence, he did indeed +consent to go toward his master, and, plucking him by the sleeve, +solicit the favor of a private word with him. Messer Folco, who was +always very affable in his bearing to those that served him, and who had +a special affection for this fellow, rose very good-humoredly from the +table and the converse and the wine, and going a little ways apart, +listened to what his old servant, who seemed so agitated and aghast, had +to tell him.</p> + +<p>When Messer Folco heard what it was that his man had to say, Messer +Folco frowned sternly, and expressed a disbelief so emphatic and so +angry that there was nothing for the poor servitor to do but to call +Maleotti himself, who, with great seeming <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>reluctance and with many +protestations of regret, that must have made him seem like a +particularly mischievous monkey apologizing for stealing nuts, repeated, +with a cunning lack of embellishment, the plain statement that he had +made to the retainer. Thereupon, Messer Folco, in a great rage which it +took all his boasted philosophy to keep under control, called to him two +or three of his old cronies that were still lingering about the deserted +tables. These folk were, indeed, also his kinsfolk, and it was from one +of them that I had the particulars which I am about to set forth with +almost as much certainty as if I had seen them myself.</p> + +<p>Making hurried excuses to those few that remained at the table, Messer +Folco and his friends quitted the room upon their errand of folly. And +Maleotti, having done his devil's work, departed upon other business of +his master's, that was no less damnable in its nature and no less +threatening to Simone's enemies.</p> + +<p>Messer Folco and his friends hurried swiftly and in silence through the +still, moon-lit gardens till they came to the gateway that Dante had +opened and the little staircase whereby Dante had ascended. Passing +through this gateway and mounting those steps, Messer Folco and his +friends came to the loggia and stood there for a moment in silence. Had +they been less busy upon a bad and unhappy errand, they must needs have +been enchanted by <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>the beauty of all that lay before and around them in +that place and on that night of summer.</p> + +<p>The air was very hot upon the loggia, and the night was very still. All +over the field of the sky the star-candles were burning brightly, and it +scarcely needed the torches that certain of Messer Folco's companions +carried to see what was to be seen. Those of Messer Folco's kinsfolk +that stood huddled together about the entrance of the loggia, curious +and confused at the suddenness of the unlovely business, could see that +their leader looked very pale and grave as he crossed the pavement and +struck sharply with his clinched hand at the door which faced him. In a +little while the door opened, and one of Madonna Beatrice's ladies +peeped out her head, and gave a little squeal of surprise at the sight +of her lord and the rest of the company, the unexpected presence, and +the unexpected torches. But Messer Folco bade her very sternly be still, +and when Messer Folco commanded sternly he was generally obeyed. Then he +ordered her that she should summon her mistress at once to come to him +there, where he waited for her. When the sorely frightened girl had +gone, there was silence for a little while on the loggia, while the +perplexed friends stared at each other's blanched faces, until presently +the little door opened again and Monna Beatrice came forth from it, and +saluted her father very sweetly and gravely, as if nothing were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>out of +the ordinary, though some thought, and Messer Tommaso Severo knew, that +there was a troubled look in her usually serene eyes.</p> + +<p>Messer Folco addressed her calmly, with the calmness of one that, being +consciously a philosopher, seeks to restrain all needless, unreasonable +rages, and he said, slowly: "Madonna, I have been told very presently by +one that pretends to have seen what he tells, that you talked here but +now with a man alone. The thing, of course, is not true?"</p> + +<p>The question which went with the utterance of his last words was given +in a very confident voice, and he carried, whether by dissimulation or +no, a very confident countenance.</p> + +<p>The look of confidence faded from his face as Madonna Beatrice answered +him very simply. "The thing is true," she said, and then said no more, +as if there were no more to say, but stood quietly where she was, +looking steadily at her father and paying no heed to any other of those +that were present.</p> + +<p>The voice of Folco was as stern as before, though harder in its tone as +he again addressed his daughter. "The thing is true, then? I am grieved +to hear it. Who was the man?"</p> + +<p>Madonna Beatrice looked at him very directly. She seemed to be neither +at all abashed nor at all defiant, as she answered, tranquilly, "I +cannot tell you, father."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p><p>For a little while that seemed a great while a dreary quiet reigned over +that moon-bathed loggia. Father and daughter faced each other with fixed +gaze, and the others, very ill at ease, watching the pair, wished +themselves elsewhere with all their hearts.</p> + +<p>While those that assisted reluctantly at this meeting wondered what +would happen next, seeing those two high, simple, and noble spirits +suddenly brought into such strange antagonism—before they, I say, could +formulate any solution of the problem, a man stepped out of the shadow +of the doorway and advanced toward Folco boldly, and the astonished +spectators saw that the man was none other than Messer Simone dei Bardi. +However he may have revelled at the now ended festival, there were no +signs of wine or riot about him now. He stood squarely and steadily +enough, and his red face was no redder than its wont. Only a kind of +ferocious irony showed on it as he loomed there, largely visible in the +yellow air.</p> + +<p>"What is all this fuss about?" he asked, with a fierce geniality. "I am +the man you seek after, and why should I not be? Though why you should +seek for me I fail to see. May not a man speak awhile in private to the +lady of his honorable love, and yet no harm done to bring folk about our +ears with torches and talk and staring faces?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p><p>As he spoke those present saw how Madonna Beatrice looked at him, and +they read in her face a proud disdain and a no less proud despair, and +they knew that somehow or other, though of course they could not guess +how, this fair and gracious lady was caught in a trap. They saw how she +longed to speak yet did not speak, and they knew thereby there was some +reason for her keeping silence. Messer Folco looked long at Messer +Simone dei Bardi as he stood there clearly visible in the mingled +lights—large, almost monstrous, truculent, ugly, the embodiment of +savage strength and barbaric appetites. Then Folco looked from Simone's +bulk to his daughter, who stood there as cold and white and quiet as if +she had been a stone image and not a breathing maid.</p> + +<p>Folco advanced toward Beatrice and took her by the hand and drew her +apart a little ways, and it so chanced that the place where they came to +a pause was within ear-shot of one of those that Messer Folco had +brought with him, one who stood apart in the darkness and looked and +listened, and this one was Tommaso Severo, the physician. Messer Simone +kept his stand with his arms folded and a smile of triumph on his face, +and I have it on good authority—that, namely, of Messer Tommaso +Severo—that at least one of the spectators wished, as he beheld Simone, +that he had been suddenly blessed by Heaven with the strength of a +giant, that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>he might have picked the Bardi up by the middle and pitched +him over the parapet into the street below. But as Heaven vouchsafed +this spectator no such grace, Severo kept his place and his peace, and +he heard what Messer Folco said to his daughter Beatrice.</p> + +<p>And what he said to her and what she answered to him was very brief and +direct.</p> + +<p>Messer Folco asked his daughter, "Was this the man you talked with but +now?"</p> + +<p>And Beatrice, looking neither at her father nor at any other one there +present, but looking straight before her over the gilded greenness of +the garden, answered, quietly, "No."</p> + +<p>Then Folco questioned her again. "Will you tell me who the man was that +you talked with here?"</p> + +<p>And again Beatrice, as tranquil, resolute to shield her lover from +danger, with the same fixed gaze over the green spaces below her, +answered as before the same answer, "No."</p> + +<p>Then there came a breathing-space of quiet; Messer Folco looked hard at +his daughter; and she, for her part, looking, as before, away from him, +because, as I guess, she judged that there would be something irreverent +in outfacing her father while she denied his wishes and defied so +strangely his parental authority. Messer Simone stood at his ease a +little apart with the mocking smile of conquest <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>on his face, and the +guests, kinsfolk, and friends, that were witnesses of the sad business, +huddled together uncomfortably.</p> + +<p>Then Messer Folco, seeing that nothing more was to be got from the girl, +turned round and addressed himself to those of his kin that stood by the +entrance to the loggia. "Friends," he said, and his voice was measured, +and his words came slow and clear—"kinsmen and friends, I have a piece +of news for you. I announce here and now the betrothal of my daughter +Beatrice to Messer Simone dei Bardi, and I bid you all to the wedding +to-morrow in the church of the Holy Name."</p> + +<p>Then, in the silence that greeted this statement, Messer Folco held out +his right hand to Simone and took his right hand, and he drew Simone +toward him and then toward Beatrice, and he lifted the right hand of +Beatrice, that lay limply against her side, and made to place its +whiteness on the brown palm of Messer Simone. Messer Simone's face was +flushed with triumph and Monna Beatrice's face was drawn with pain, and +those that witnessed and wondered thought a great wrong had been +wrought, and wondered why. But before Messer Folco could join the two +hands together Beatrice suddenly plucked her hand away from her father's +clasp.</p> + +<p>"No! no! no!" she cried, in a loud voice, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>then again cried "No!" +And even as she did so she reeled backward in a swoon, and would have +fallen upon the marble pavement if Messer Severo, that was watching her, +had not sprung timely forward and caught her in his arms.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2> + +<h3>A WORD FOR MESSER SIMONE</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">I</span><span style="margin-left:0%;"> </span> +must, in the fulness of my heart, agree with those that speak in favor +of Messer Simone dei Bardi. It is the native, intimate, and commendable +wish of a man to abolish his enemies—I speak here after the fashion of +the worldling that I was, for the cell and the cloister have no concern +with mortal passions and frailties—and Messer Simone was in this, as in +divers other qualities, of a very manly disposition. He thought in all +honesty that it would be very good for him to be the ruler of Florence, +yet, also, and no less, that it would be very good for Florence to be +ruled by him. This is the way of such great personages, as indeed it is +the way of meaner creatures: to persuade themselves very pleasantly that +what they desire for themselves they are justified in desiring on +account of the benefit their accomplished wishes must bear to others.</p> + +<p>Messer Simone, having the idea once lodged in his skull—a +dwelling-place of unusual thickness, that was well made for keeping any +idea that ever <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>entered it a prisoner—that it would be well for him to +take charge of Florence, had no room in his pate for tender or merciful +consideration of those that sought or seemed to seek to cross him in his +purpose. They were his enemies; there was no more to be said about it, +and for his enemies, when it was possible, he had ever a short way. Now, +Messer Guido Cavalcanti, and those of his inclining, were very curiously +and truly his enemies, and he had been longing for a great while to get +them out of the way of his ambitions and his purposes, yet could find no +ready means to compass their destruction. But of late he had found a new +enemy in the person of my friend Dante, and a formidable enemy for all +his seeming insignificance; and if Simone sought to crush Dante, I +cannot blame him for the attempt, however much I may rejoice in his +failure.</p> + +<p>I believe Messer Simone to have been as much in love with Monna Beatrice +as it was humanly possible for such a man to be in love with such a +maid. He was in love, of course, with the great houses that Messer Folco +owned, with the broad lands that fattened Messer Folco's vineyards; for +though he had houses of his own and broad lands in abundance, wealth +ever covets wealth. But I conceive that whatever of god-like essence was +muffled in the hulk of his composition was quickened by the truly +unearthly beauty of that pale <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>face with its mystic smile and the sweet +eyes that seemed to see sights denied to the commonalty. I think Messer +Simone was in love with Beatrice very much as I might have been, out of +very wonder at a thing so rare and fair and unfamiliar. I was never, as +I have said, in love with Folco's daughter; my tastes are simpler, more +carnal; give me an Ippolita in my affectionate hours, and I ask nothing +better. Love for me must be a jolly companion, never squeamish, never +chilly, never expecting other homage than such salutations as swordsmen +may use for preliminary to a hot engagement. Messer Dante has written a +very beautiful book on his business, its words all fire and golden air, +but I wrote my rhymes in a tavern with red wine at my elbow and a doxy +on my knee. I wonder which of us will be remembered longest.</p> + +<p>Yet if I was never in love with Beatrice, I could understand the matter, +and feel how the thick-headed, thick-hearted, thick-fingered giant must +shiver at the unfamiliar twinges and rigors. When a man of such a kind +finds himself in such a dilemma, he is in much such a case as if he were +sick of some childish ailment more dangerous to maturity than to youth. +The thought that another should challenge his right or traverse his +desire galled him to a choler little short of madness. Wherefore, if he +had hated the Cavalcanti faction before, he hated them a thousand times +more now, seeing that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>Dante was of their number, this Dante that had +gained a rose of lady Beatrice, and wore it next his heart no doubt, and +had denied him and defied him with such cheer and cunning, and dared to +make verses in praise of his lady. If Simone had wished ere this that +the Cavalcanti party was ruined, now he was resolved upon its ruin, and +for no reason more strongly than because it included Dante in its +company. In this resolve, I say again, I cannot honestly blame Messer +Simone. He only acted as most of us would have acted if we had been in +his place.</p> + +<p>Messer Simone, I must cheerfully admit, had calculated his plans +cleverly enough. Long before his magnificent appearance at Messer +Folco's house he had been at the pains to make himself aware that the +bulk of the youth of the city were with him hand and heart in his +desperate adventure. To do the youth of Florence the merest justice, it +was every ready to risk its life cheerfully for the advantage of the +city, and, furthermore, for the sheer lust of fighting. What Messer +Simone had hoped to gain at Folco's house, and, indeed, had succeeded in +gaining, was the allegiance of certain young men of the Cavalcanti +inclining, adherents of the Reds, that were not in the natural way of +things affected over kindly to him. All this he had accomplished very +successfully. The heady enthusiasm upon which he had cunningly counted, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>the presence of fair women whose sweet breaths are ever ready to fan +the flame of the war-like spirit, the stimulating influences of wine and +light and laughter and dancing—all these had played their parts in +furthering Messer Simone's aims by spurring the Florentine chivalry to a +pitch of exuberance, at which any proposal made in a sounding voice in +the name of the God of War might be relied upon to carry them away. As +you know, it did so carry them away, and Messer Simone's book was +scrawled thick with hurried signatures, and, best of all for his +pleasure, it carried at last the name of Messer Dante, and best of all, +perhaps, for his personal advantage, it carried the name of Messer Guido +Cavalcanti.</p> + +<p>I know very well, looking back on those old days, that were so much +better than these new days, that if Messer Simone had failed to lure +Messer Dante into that immediate scheme of his, and had so compelled a +postponement of his revenge, he would still have carried out his purpose +of sending the others that were his enemies to their deaths. But, in his +piggish way, Messer Simone had a kind of knowledge of men. He that was +all ungenerous and bestial—he, this most unknightly giant—he could +realize, strangely enough, what a generous and uplifted nature might do +on certain occasions when the trumpets of the spirit were loudly +blowing. And it was a proof of his mean insight that he had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>spread his +net in the sight of the bird and had snared his quarry.</p> + +<p>Having won so briskly the first move in his game, Messer Simone lost no +time in making the second move. Fortified, as he was, by the friendship +and the approval of certain of the leaders of the city, he could +confidently count upon immunity from blame if any seeming blunder of his +delivered to destruction a certain number of young gentlemen whose +opinions were none too popular with many of those in high office. So, +while still the flambeaux of the festival were burning, and while still +a few late guests were carousing at Messer Folco's tables, the +emissaries of Messer Simone were busy in Florence doing what they had to +do. Thus it was that so many of the fiery-hearted, fiery-headed youths +who had set their names in Messer Simone's Golden Book found, as they +returned gay and belated from Messer Folco's house, the summons awaiting +them—the summons that was not to be disobeyed, calling upon them at +once to prove their allegiance to the Company of Death and obey its +initial command. It is well to recollect that not one single man of all +the men so summoned failed to answer to his name.</p> + +<p>It is in that regard, too, that I can scarcely do less than extend my +admiration to Messer Simone. For, in spite of the fact that he was a +very great villain, as he needs must be counted, being the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>enemy of our +party, he had in him so much as it were of the sovereign essence of +manhood that he could read aright men's tempers. And he knew very well +that such words as "patriotism" and "service of the sweet city" and +"honorable death for a great cause" are as so many flames that will set +the torch of a young man's heart alight. There was no generosity in +Messer Simone, yet—and this I think is the marvel—he could guess at +and count upon the generosity of others, and know that they would be +ready to do in an instant what he would never do nor never dream of +doing. He was not impulsive, he was not high-spirited, he was not +chivalrous; yet he could play upon the impulses, the high spirits, and +the chivalries of those whom he wished to destroy as dexterously as your +trained musician can play upon the strings of a lute. Of course it is +impossible not to admire such a cunning, however perverted the +application of that cunning may be. For there is many a rascal in the +broad world that has no wit to appreciate anything outside the compass +of his own inclinations, and takes it for granted that because he is a +rogue with base instincts, that can only be appealed to by base lures, +all other men are rogues likewise, and only basely answerable to some +base appeal.</p> + +<p>Nor can I do otherwise than admire him for the ingenuity of the means by +which he sought to attain his end. It was in its way a masterpiece of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>imagination, for one that throve upon banking, to conceive that scheme +of the Company of Death, with its trumpet-call to youth and courage and +the noble heart. It was excellently clever, too, of Messer Simone so to +engineer his contrivance that while he seemingly included in its ranks +the young bloods of every party in the state, he was able, by the wise +adjustment of his machinery, to deal, or at least to intend, disaster +only to those that were opposed to him. Cæsar might well have been +praised for so intelligent an artifice, and yet Messer Simone of the +Bardi, for all that he was brave enough, was very far from being a +Cæsar. However, he planned his plan well, and I praise him for it all +the more light-heartedly because it came to grief so signally, and all +through one whose enmity he rated at too light a price.</p> + +<p>It is ever the way of such fellows as Simone, that are of the suspicious +temperament and quick to regard folk as their enemies, to overlook, in +their computation of the perils that threaten their cherished purposes, +the gravest danger of all. Simone had plenty of enemies in Florence, and +he thought that he had provided against all of them, or, at the least, +all that were seriously to be reputed troublesome, when he swaddled and +dandled and matured his precious invention of the Company of Death. But +while he grinned as he read over the list of the recruits to that +delectable regiment, and hugged <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span>himself at the thought of how he would +in a morning's work thoroughly purge it of all that were his +antagonists, he suffered his wits to go wool-gathering in one instance +where they should have been most alert. Either he clean forgot or he +disdained to remember a certain wager of his, and a certain very fair +and very cunning lady with whom he had laid it, and to whose very +immediate interest it was that she should win the wager. Messer Simone +seemed either to think that Madonna Vittoria was not in earnest, or that +she might be neglected with safety. Whichever his surmise, Messer Simone +made a very great mistake.</p> + +<p>It proved to be one of the greatest factors in the sum of Messer +Simone's blunder that he should have been tempted by ironic fortune to +turn for aid in the ingenious plot he was hatching to the particular man +upon whom he pitched for assistance. Already in those days of which I +write, far-away days as they seem to me now in this green old age—or +shall I, with an eye to my monkish habit, call it gray old age?—of +mine, those gentry existed who have now become so common in Italy, the +gentry that were called Free Companions. These worthy personages were +adventurers, seekers after fortune, men eager for wealth and power, and +heedless of the means by which they attained them. Italian, some of +them, but very many strangers from far-away lands. It was the custom <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>of +these fellows to gather about them a little army of rough-and-ready +resolutes like themselves, whom they maintained at their cost, and whose +services they were always prepared to sell to any person or state that +was willing to pay the captain's price for their aid. And these +captains, as their fortunes waxed, increased the numbers of their +following till they often had under their command as many lances as +would go to the making of a little army. Of these captains that were +then in Italy, and, as I have said, they were fewer in that time than +they are to-day, the most famous and the most fortunate was the man who +was known as Messer Griffo of the Claw. He was so nicknamed, I think, +because of the figure on the banner that he flew—a huge dragon with one +fiercely clawed foot lifted as if to lay hold of all that came its way.</p> + +<p>Messer Griffo was a splendid fellow to look at, as big every way as +Messer Simone, but built more shapely, and he had a finer face, and one +that showed more self-control, and he was never given to the beastly +intemperances that degraded the Messer Simone. Messer Griffo and his +levy of lances lived in a castle that he held in the hills some half-way +between Florence and Arezzo. He was, as I believe, by his birth an +Englishman, with some harsh, unmusical, outlandish name of his own that +had been softened and sweetened into the name by which he was known and +esteemed in all <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>the cities of Italy. He had been so long a-soldiering +in our country that he spoke the vulgar tongue very neatly and swiftly, +and was, indeed, ofttimes taken by the people of one town or province in +our peninsula for a citizen of some other city or province of Italy. So +that his English accent did him no more harm in honest men's ears than +his English parentage offended their susceptibilities. For the rest, he +was of more than middle age, but seemed less, was of amazing strength +and daring, and a great leader of Free Companions.</p> + +<p>At the time of which I tell he was in command of a force of something +like five hundred lances, that were very well fed, well kept, well +equipped, and ready to serve the quarrel of any potentate of Italy that +was willing to pay for them. He had just captained his rascals very +gallantly and satisfactorily in the service of Padua, and having made a +very considerable amount of money by the transaction, was now resting +pleasantly on his laurels, and in no immediate hurry to further +business. For if Messer Griffo liked fighting, as is said to be the way +of those islanders, he did not like fighting only, but recognized +frankly and fully that life has other joys to offer to a valiant +gentleman. His long sojourn in our land had so civilized and humanized +him that he could appreciate, after a fashion, the delicate pleasures +that are known to us and that are denied to those that abide in his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>frozen, fog-bound, rain-whipped island—the delights of fine eating, +fine drinking, fine living, fine loving. Honestly, I must record that he +took to all these delectations very gayly and naturally, for all the +world as if he had the grace to be born, I will not say a Florentine, +but say a man of Padua, of Bologna, or Ferrara. In a word, he had all +the semblance of a very fine gentleman, and when he was not about his +proper business of cutting throats at so much a day, he moved at his +ease with a very proper demeanor.</p> + +<p>When Messer Simone began to hatch his little conspiracy of the Company +of Death, he bethought him of Messer Griffo, that was then at liberty +and living at ease, and he sent to the Free Companion a message, +entreating him to visit Florence and be his guest for a season, as he +had certain matters of moment to communicate to him. Now if this Griffo +liked idling very well, he did not like it to the degree that would +permit him to push on one side a promising piece of business. This is, I +believe, the way of his country-people, that are said to be traders +before all, though thereafter they are sailors and soldiers. When the +message of Messer Simone reached him, he appreciated very instantly the +value of Messer Simone's acquaintance, and the probability of good pay +and good pickings if he found reason to enter the Bardi's service. So +with no more unwillingness than was reasonable, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>considering that he was +passing the time very happily in his house with pretty women and jolly +pot-companions, he made answer to the message that he would wait upon +Messer Simone very shortly in the fair city of Florence. In no very long +time after he kept his word, and came to Florence to have speech with +Messer Simone and drink his wine and consider what propositions he might +have to make.</p> + +<p>It was, perhaps, unfortunate for Simone dei Bardi that while there were +many points of resemblance between himself and the Free Companion that +was his guest, the advantages were on the side of the stranger rather +than of the Florentine. Both were big men, both were strong men, both +were practised to the top in all manner of manly exercises. But while +there was a something gross about the greatness of Simone of the Bardi, +the bulk of the Englishman was so well proportioned and rarely adjusted +that a woman's first thought of him would be rather concerning his grace +than his size. While Messer Simone's face betrayed too plainly in its +ruddiness its owner's gratification of his appetites, Messer Griffo's +face carried a clean paleness that commended him to temperate eyes, +albeit he could, when he pleased, eat and drink as much as ever Messer +Simone.</p> + +<p>Messer Simone's plan had one great merit to the mind of a foreigner +denied the lucidity of our <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>Italian intelligence—it was adorably +simple. I can give it to you now in a nutshell as I learned it later, +not as I knew it then, for I did not know it then. Nobody knew it then +except Messer Simone of the one part, and Messer Griffo of the other +part, and one other who was not meant to know it or supposed to know it, +but who, in defence of special interests, first guessed at it, and then +made certain of it, with results that were far from satisfactory to +Messer Simone, though they proved in the end entirely pleasing to Messer +Griffo.</p> + +<p>Here and now, in few words, was Messer Simone's plan. Messer Griffo was +to enter his, Simone's, service at what rate of pay he might, weighed in +the scale of fairness and with a proper calculation of market values, +demand. At least Messer Simone was not inclined to haggle, and the five +hundred lances would find him a good paymaster. In return for so many +stipulated florins, Messer Griffo was to render certain services to +Messer Simone—obvious services, and services that were less obvious, +but that were infinitely more important.</p> + +<p>In the first place, the Free Companion was ostensibly to declare himself +Messer Simone's very good and zealous subaltern in the interests of the +city of Florence, and very especially in those interests which led her +to detest and honestly long to destroy the city of Arezzo. For this +proclaimed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>purpose he was to hold himself and his men in readiness to +march, when the time came, against Arezzo. This was the first page of +the treaty. But there was a second page of the treaty that, if it were +really written out, would have to be written in cipher. By its +conditions Messer Griffo bound himself to wait with his fellows on a +certain appointed night at a certain appointed place some half-way +between Florence and Arezzo. What his business was to be at this +appointed time and place makes pretty reading even now, when almost all +that were concerned in the conspiracy have passed away and are no more +than moth-like memories.</p> + +<p>When Messer Simone dei Bardi contrived to chain upon the Company of +Death that law which bound every member of the fellowship to +unquestioning obedience to its founder, he had in his mind from the +start the goal for which he was playing. At a certain given hour a +certain given number of the Company of Death would be called upon to +foregather outside the walls of Florence, bent on a special adventure +for the welfare of the state. By a curious chance those that were thus +summoned were all to be members of the party that was opposed to Messer +Simone, and would include all those youths who, like Guido Cavalcanti +and Dante Alighieri, had incurred the special detestation of the +would-be dictator.</p> + +<p>The rest of the scheme was as easy as whistling. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>The hot-headed, +hot-hearted gallants of the Company of Death were to ride swiftly in the +direction of Arezzo, carrying with them the information that they would +be reinforced half-way upon their journey by a levy of mercenaries under +the command of Griffo. It was, however, privately arranged between +Simone and Griffo that when the young Florentines made their appearance +they were to be very promptly and decisively put to the sword, after +which deed Messer Griffo and his followers were to betake themselves to +Arezzo, declare themselves the saviors of that city, and insist on +entering its service at a price. After a little while Messer Griffo was +to make his peace with indignant Florence by offering to betray, and, in +due course, by betraying, the town of Arezzo into the hands of her +enemies. By such ingenious spider-spinnings of sin did Messer Simone of +the Bardi promise himself that he would within a very little space of +time cleanse Florence of the pick of his enemies, and also earn the +gratitude of her citizens by placing Arezzo within their power. This was +a case of killing two birds with one stone that mightily delighted +Messer Simone, and he made sure that he had found the very stone that +was fit for his fingers in the excellent, belligerent Free Companion.</p> + +<p>It is whimsical to reflect that all would probably, nay, almost +certainly, have gone as Messer Simone desired if only Messer Simone had +not been so <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>bullishly besotted as to leave the name of a certain lady +out of his table of calculations; for Messer Griffo liked the scheme +well enough. Though it was, as it were, a double-edged weapon, cutting +this way at the Florentines of one party and that way at Arezzo, it was +a simple scheme enough that required no feigning to sustain it, no +dissimulation—qualities these apparently repugnant to the English +heart. Griffo also liked the florins of Messer Simone that were to be +spent so plenteously into his exchequer, and he liked exceedingly the +prospect of the later plunder of Arezzo. That he did not like Messer +Simone very much counted for little in the business. It was no part of +his practice to like or dislike his employers, so long as they paid him +his meed. Still, perhaps the fact that if Simone had not been his +employer he would have disliked him may have counted as an influence to +direct the course of later events.</p> + +<p>Certainly Messer Griffo had no compunctions, no prickings of the +conscience, to perturb or to deflect the energy of his keen intelligence +from following the line marked out for it. That he was to dispatch +without quarter the flower of the youth of Florence troubled him, as I +take it, no whit. He was too imperturbable, too phlegmatic for that. Had +he been of our race he might, perhaps, have sighed over their fate, for +we that are of the race of Rome have some droppings of the old Roman +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>pity as ingredients in our composition. Messer Griffo was no such +fantastico, but a plain, straightforward, journeyman sword-bearer that +would kill any mortal or mortals whom he was paid to kill, unless—and +here is the key to his character and the explanation of all that +happened after—unless he was paid a better price by some one else not +to kill his intended victims. In this particular business he was, maugre +Messer Simone's beard, paid a better price not to do what Simone paid a +less price to have done. What that price was you shall learn in due +course.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX</h2> + +<h3>THE RIDE IN THE NIGHT</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">hrough</span> +all the quiet of that divine night the minions of the Messer +Simone had slipped hither and thither through the moon-lit streets of +Florence, bearing the orders of the captain of the Company of Death to +certain of his loyal lieutenants and faithful federates. And the order +that each man received was to report himself ready for active service +and properly armed at the gate of the city which gave upon the highroad +that led in the fulness of time to Arezzo. It was a curious fact, though +of course it was not realized until later, that no one of these +summonses was delivered to any man other than a man known to be a member +of the Red party, and, therefore, by the same token, one that was an +opponent of Messer Simone dei Bardi and his friends of the Yellow +League. The call to each man told him that at the tryst he would find a +horse ready to carry him to his destination.</p> + +<p>Each man that received that summons had but a little while before been +feasting blithely at the house of Messer Folco. Each man hastened to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span>obey his summons without a sinister thought, without a fear. Each man +hastily armed himself, hurriedly flung his cloak about him, and sped +swiftly from his abode or lodging across the night-quiet streets to the +appointed meeting-place. Each man, on arrival at the indicated gate, +found the warders awake and ready for him, ready on his production of +his summons to pass him through the great unbolted doors into the +liberty of the open country. The later arrivals found those that had +answered earlier to the call waiting for them in the gray vagueness +between night and dawn, each man standing by a horse's head, while a +number of other horses in the care of a company of varlets waited, +whinnying and shivering in the shadow of the walls, to be chosen from by +the new-comers. Every man that crossed the threshold of the gateway that +night found Maleotti waiting for him on the other hand with a smile of +welcome on his crafty face, and whispered instructions on his evil lips.</p> + +<p>Those instructions were simple enough. The little company of gallant +gentlemen, citizens, for the most part, in the flower of their youth, +and certainly the very flower of the Red party, was to fall under the +temporary command of Messer Guido Cavalcanti. Messer Guido was to +conduct the party, which numbered in all some two hundred souls, to a +designated place, a thickly wooded spot some half-way between Arezzo and +Florence. Here the adventurers <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>were to find waiting for them a company +of Free Companions, some six hundred lances, under the command of the +very illustrious <i>condottiere</i>, Messer Griffo of the Claw, to whom, at +the point of conjunction, Messer Guido was instantly to surrender his +temporary leadership of the dedicated fellowship. After that it was for +Messer Griffo to decide the order of the enterprise and the form in +which the attack upon Arezzo was to be made. These were very plain and +simple instructions, very simple to follow, very simple to understand, +very easy to obey. No man of all the some two hundred men to whom they +were confided by Maleotti, or one of Maleotti's comrades, required to be +told them a second time or felt the need to ask a single explanatory +question.</p> + +<p>It was true enough, as Messer Simone had said, that the rogue +Ghibellines of Arezzo had a mind to deal Florence an ugly stroke, if +ever they could, and that the hope of the Aretines was to trap the +Florentines in a snare. As you know, Messer Simone had hatched a +double-edged plot, though we young hot-heads of the Company of Death +knew of but one-half of its purpose. He had caused information to be +sent to Arezzo that there was a traitor within their walls who was +prepared on a certain night to let in a certain number of Florentines, +who thus would seize and hold one of the gates until reinforcements came +from Florence to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>secure the weakened city. He schemed all this with the +aid of a Guelph that dwelt in Arezzo as a red-hot Ghibelline. Now, it +would have been simple enough for him after this to send the little +handful of Florentines against a warned Arezzo and have them cut to +pieces by an Aretine ambuscade. But his purpose went further than merely +demolishing a number of his enemies. He wanted to win Arezzo, if he +could, as well. So, by his machinations, he arranged that the forces of +Arezzo should be out to meet and overthrow the adventurous Florentines, +whereafter they might march on Florence and take the city unawares. But, +to counteract this, he made his arrangements with Messer Griffo, who +was, in one and the same job, to massacre the Florentines of the Red and +give battle to the Aretines unaware of his presence, and so, at a +stroke, rid Simone of his enemies, and cover him with patriotic glory.</p> + +<p>It will be seen by this that Messer Simone, if treacherous to his +enemies within the city, was in nowise treacherous to the city herself. +But we were ignorant of his wiles that night, as we gathered together +outside the gates.</p> + +<p>In an amazingly short space of time we were all a-horseback, and riding +quietly through the night on the road toward Arezzo, with Messer +Maleotti, on a high-mettled mount, shepherding us as we rode, as if we +were so many simple sheep and he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span>our pastor. I, that had come late to +the meeting-place, had sought for and found Messer Dante, after a little +seeking hither and thither through the press of eager, generous youths +that were bestirring themselves to strike a good stroke for Florence +that night. I found him standing quietly alone, with his hand resting in +a kindly command upon the neck of the steed that he had chosen, and a +look of great happiness softening the native sternness of his regard. I +stood by him in silence till we rode, for after our first salutation he +chose to be taciturn, and that in no unfriendly seeming, but as one +might that had great thoughts to think and counted very certainly upon +the acquiescence of a friend. And I was ever a man to respect the +humors, grave or merry, of my friends.</p> + +<p>So I stood by him and held my peace until the muster-roll of our +fellowship was completed, and it seemed good to Maleotti that the signal +should be given for our departure upon our business. But while I waited +I looked hither and thither through the moon-lit gloom to discern this +face and that of familiar youth, and as I noted them and named them to +myself, I was dimly conscious of a thought that would not take shape in +words, and yet a thought that, all unwittingly, troubled me. I seemed +like a child that tries, and tries in vain, to recall some duty that was +set upon it, and that has wickedly slipped its memory. Man after man of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span>the figures that moved about me in the darkness was well known to me. +Those faces, those figures, were the faces and figures of intimates +whose pleasures I shared daily, companions with whom I had grown up, +playfellows in the days when we gambolled in the streets, playfellows +now in the pleasant fields of love and revelry. What could there be, I +asked myself, almost unconscious that I did so question—what could +there be in the presence of so many well-known, so many well-liked, so +many well-trusted gentlemen, to make me feel so inexplicably ill at +ease? Where can a man stand better, I seemed to ask myself, than in the +centre of a throng of men that are all his friends? Thus I puzzled and +fumed in the silent minutes ere we started, struggling with my +unaccountable misgivings, not realizing that it was the very fact that +all about me were my friends which was the cause of my most natural +disquiet. It was not until we were all in the saddle and well upon our +way to Arezzo, that with a sudden clearness my muffled thought asserted +itself, and I must needs make it known at once to Dante, at whose side I +rode.</p> + +<p>"Friend of mine," I said to him, in a low voice, "I would not willingly +seem either suspicious or timorous, and I hope I am neither. But I think +I have reason for some unquiet. I have noticed something that seems +curious to me in the composition of our company."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p><p>To my surprise he turned to me a smiling face, as of one that was too +well contented with his star to be fretted by wayward chances. "I think +I know what you would say," he answered me, cheerfully, "and indeed I +have noticed what you have noticed—that we who ride thus to-night are +all the partisans of one party in Florence. There is not, so far as I +have been able to see, a single man of the other favor among us."</p> + +<p>Now this was exactly the fact that I had at last been able to realize, +the portentous fact which had thrilled my spirit with significant +alarms, the fact to which I wished to call his attention, and, behold, +he had anticipated my observation and seemed to draw from it an +agreeable and exhilarating deduction.</p> + +<p>"Is it not a compliment," he went on, "to us that are of the Red party, +to be thus signalled out for an errand of such great danger, and, in +consequence, of such great glory, by the head man of the Yellow faction? +I do not suppose," he said, with a smile, "that Messer Simone has +planned the matter solely to pleasure us. Doubtless he has reasoned it +somewhat thusly: if we fail in our enterprise, why then he has very +cleverly got rid of a number of his adversaries."</p> + +<p>He paused for a moment, and I caught at the pause to interrupt him +somewhat petulantly. "And if we succeed?" I said, in a questioning +voice, for <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>I was in that happy age of youth and that sanguinity of +temperament which makes it hard to realize that failure can associate +its grayness or its blackness with one's own bright colors of hope. "If +we succeed?"</p> + +<p>"If we succeed," Dante echoed me, slowly, "why, if we succeed, then will +not Messer Simone appear indeed to be a very generous and perfect +gentleman, who was willing to give this great opportunity for honor and +conflict to those that were so hotly opposed to him and his people in +the brawls of the city?"</p> + +<p>I could not, for my own part, see Messer Simone in this character of the +high-minded and chivalrous knight, and Madonna Vittoria's words of +warning buzzed in my ears with a boding persistence. To be frank, I felt +qualmish, and though I did not exactly say as much, having a sober +regard for the censure of my friend, yet, in a measure, I did indeed +voice my doubts.</p> + +<p>But my dear friend was not to be fretted by my agitations, and much to +my surprise and something to my chagrin, would indeed scarcely consider +them as, to my thinking, they deserved to be considered.</p> + +<p>"I feel very sure," he said, tranquilly, "that we shall succeed in what +we are set to do to-night, though I could give you no other reason for +my confidence than the certainty that reigns so serenely <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>in my heart. +Have you not already noted, comrade, for all that you are young and the +way of the world before you, how there sometimes comes to one, although +rarely, such a magic mood in which the liberated spirit seems to swim in +an exalted ether, and the body seems to move uplifted in a world made to +its liking?"</p> + +<p>It was at a later time that I learned the great cause of Messer Dante's +contentment and serenity displayed in our journey. It came, in the main, +from the fact that he had that night given and taken troth with Madonna +Beatrice, and that he esteemed himself, as most men esteem themselves in +such a case, though not all as rightly, the man the most happy in all +the world. But this joy of his had its complement and sustainer in a +marvel, a portent vouchsafed to him, as he believed and averred, that +same evening and journey. For as himself told me thereafter, he was, or +thought himself, companioned through all that night-riding by a youth +clad after the fashion of the Grecians, that wore a crimson tunic and +that rode a white horse. Ever and anon this youth turned a smiling +countenance upon Dante, as one that bade him be of cheer, for again he +should see his lady. Dante knew that strange and beautiful presence, +seen of him alone, to be the incarnation of the God of Love that had +already appeared to him before this, time and again, ever since that +morning on the Place of the Holy <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>Felicity, where he beheld for the +second time the lady Beatrice. It is one of my regrets that I have never +been favored, on my own account, with any such celestial apparitions, +but I am glad that Dante was so graced, and I wish I had known at the +time that Love was riding by our side. The presence of Love in the +Company of Death: what an allegory for a poet!</p> + +<p>It was very beautiful to hear Messer Dante talk as he talked, and his +calm reasoning, together with the sweetness and serenity of his +confidence, cheered me mightily. In such company, and hearkening to such +speech, it was impossible to be downhearted, and as the brave, hopeful +words fell from him, I that had been not a little in the dumps grew +blithe to whistling-point—not that I did whistle, of course, seeing +that such an ebullition of high spirits would be something out of place +on a night march toward an enemy's country, and scarcely to be commended +by your strategists. Some may say, when they learn the leave of my tale, +that it makes an ironic commentary on Messer Dante's speech and Messer +Dante's conviction, to learn, after all, that what saved us from the +destruction that was spread for our feet was no more and no other than +the craft of a woman and a light o' love. But me-thinks the answer to +that is, that the instruments whereby it may please Heaven to work out +its purposes are not of our choosing, but of Heaven's; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>and those that +cavil may recall, to their own abashment, how one that was of the same +way of life as our Vittoria was permitted by celestial grace to be a +minister unto holiness. I will not venture to say that Monna Vittoria +did that which she did do with any very conscious thought of serving +Heaven. Nay, more, I am very sure that, as far as she knew, her main +purpose was to serve herself; but it is the result we must look to in +such instances as these. After all, the Sybil, when she uttered her +words of wisdom to all Greece, was as ignorant of what she communicated +as a jug is of the liquor it contains, and yet what a mighty service the +jug renders to your true toper!</p> + +<p>Now, while we thus wiled away the journey in such profitable +conversation, the tide of the night had turned, the glory of the summer +stars had paled and faded and departed from the lightening skies. Behind +the hills dawn, in its cloak of unearthly colors, was beginning to fill +the cup of heaven, and the multitude of small birds, waking from their +slumbers, unwinged their heads and started to utter their matins like +honest choristers. The world that had been all black and silver, like +the panoply on a knightly catafalque, was now flooded with a gray +clearness in which all things showed strange, as if one dreamed of them +rather than saw them. Below and beyond us lay a great stretch of wooded +land, and here it was that we <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span>knew we were to meet our reinforcement; +here we realized that from this point the adventure might veritably be +said to begin. Our spirits rose with the rising day to the blithest +altitudes; already we seemed to savor the taste of brisk campaigning; I +think we all longed boyishly for action. Pray you, remember that the +most of us were very young, that to most of us the events of life had +still something of the zest that a schoolboy finds in robbing an orchard +and glutting himself with its treasures.</p> + +<p>But while most of us were thus brimful of eagerness, he that had been +until now our guide and leader, even Simone's man Maleotti, was all of a +sudden retarded in his progress by the ill conduct of his nag. It was +always a mettled beast, but now it turned restive and took to all kinds +of bucking and jibbing and shying, that seemed strangely disconcerting +to its rider, albeit he was known as a skilful cavalier. So Maleotti +must needs dismount and look to his girths and gear, to see what ailed +his steed, while we rode merrily forward, eager to join hands with those +that we knew were awaiting us behind the mask of yonder clump of trees. +What was it to us if Maleotti could not handle an unmanageable horse? +Behind that brown wood Messer Griffo of the Dragon-flag waited for our +coming—Messer Griffo, the famousest soldier of fortune in all Italy. +Who could be more lucky than we to be thus chosen as sharers in an +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>enterprise that was honored by the alliance of so astonishing a +<i>condottiere</i>? If I were to judge of all our fellowship by myself, as I +fairly think I may judge, then I can assure you that all our pulses were +drumming, that we were hungry and thirsty to get to grips with the +devils of Arezzo.</p> + +<p>How exquisitely vain is youth! We who rode and thought that we were +going to do great deeds and win endless applause, how little we dreamed +that we were no more than the toys of chance, the valueless shuttles +between a rich man's gold and the kisses of a courtesan. We that likened +ourselves to the conquerors of worlds were no better than petty pawns on +an unfriendly chess-board, making moves of which we knew nothing, in +obedience to forces of which we were as ignorant as children. All we +knew, all we cared to know, in our then mood, was that we had come to +the point where it was ordained that we were to meet and join forces +with Messer Griffo of the Dragon-flag.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>XX</h2> + +<h3>THE FIGHT WITH THOSE OF AREZZO</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">his</span> +was what was to have happened at this point; this is what caused +Messer Maleotti to have so much show of trouble with his steed. The +little company of Florentine gentlemen were to have joined their forces +with those that rode under the Dragon-flag of Messer Griffo, were to +have ridden with them into the darkness of the wood, and were then and +there incontinently to have been cut to pieces by the mercenaries. +Maleotti, lingering behind to look after that troublesome horse of his, +saw that much of this came very properly to pass. As the Florentines of +the Company of Death came within view and hail of that midway wood, +there rode out to greet them a number of Free Companions, with Messer +Griffo at their head. In the gray of the growing dawn Maleotti could +recognize him very clearly by his height on horseback and his burly +English bulk, and Maleotti, still busy with his horse, could see how the +two forces joined hands, so to speak, and how the free-lances gathered +around the little company of youths from Florence, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>and, as it were, +swallowed them up in their greater number, and how the whole force, thus +united, disappeared into the darkness of the wood, as the children in +the fairy tale disappear into the mouth of the giant.</p> + +<p>Then Maleotti made up his mind that he had seen enough, and +congratulated himself upon his wisdom in holding aloof from that +meeting, for, as he very sensibly reflected, in a scuffle of the sort +that was arranged to follow, your mercenary who is paid to kill is not +always clear-headed enough to distinguish between his properly appointed +victims and a respectable individual like Maleotti, who was a firm +friend and faithful servant of the master butcher. So Maleotti mounted +on his horse, which, now that we were out of sight, had very suddenly +and unexpectedly grown quiet again, and rode off at an easy walking pace +toward Florence, congratulating himself and his master upon a night's +work well done.</p> + +<p>Yet Maleotti had to learn that it does not always follow in life that +because the first portion of a carefully prepared plan goes as it was +intended to go, the rest of the plan must necessarily move with equal +success along its appointed lines. Though Maleotti was as sure as if he +had seen it of our slaughter in the forest shambles, there came no +moment in that journey of ours through the darkness of the wood when +Messer Griffo, drawing his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>sword, thundered an appointed order, and +forces of destruction were let loose upon the Company of Death. On the +contrary, Messer Griffo rode very quietly and pleasantly by the side of +Messer Guido, chatting affably of the affairs of Florence and the +pleasures and advantages of a morning attack, when you take your enemy +by surprise, and ever and anon, to Messer Guido's surprise, leading the +conversation craftily to the name of Monna Vittoria, and dwelling +enthusiastically on her manifold charms and graces. I, still by the side +of Dante, trotted on in the most blissful unconsciousness that if things +had gone as they were intended to go, we should all be lying on the +carpet of the wood with our throats cut.</p> + +<p>It was only later that I learned, partly from the lady herself that was +the main cause of the change, and partly from Messer Griffo, in a moment +of confidence over a flask of Lacrima Christi, when all those things +that I am speaking of were as ancient as the Tale of Troy. Julius Cæsar! +what that morning's business might have been, and was meant to be, by +our friend Simone! It seems that Monna Vittoria, being a woman, and +shrewd, and knowing her Simone pretty well, saw clearer through the +device of the Company of Death when it was first hinted at than any of +the feather-headed enthusiasts who were eager to swell its levy. And +being a watchful woman and a cunning and a clever, she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>soon found out +that Messer Simone was in treaty with Messer Griffo of the Dragon-flag, +and feeling sure that what she might fail to elicit from Simone she +could get from Messer Griffo, she was at pains to make herself +acquainted with that gallant adventurer, and to show him certain favors +and courtesies which won his English heart. So that in a little while +Madonna Vittoria knew all about Simone's purposes, and very pleasantly +resolved to baffle them.</p> + +<p>In her opinion, it was a very important point in her game that Dante +should be alive and well, and the wooer of lady Beatrice. So long as +Dante lived to love and be loved, as she, with her cunning intuition, +guessed him to love and be loved, so long there was little likelihood +that Messer Simone would win the girl's hand and his wager, and leave +her, Vittoria, very patently in the lurch. She reasoned rightly that +such a maid as Beatrice would not yield her love while her lover lived, +and she hoped that Messer Folco, for all he liked to play the Roman +father, was in his heart over fond of his daughter to seek to compel her +to a hateful marriage by force. It was, therefore, of the first +importance to Vittoria to thwart the devices of Simone having for their +object the death of Dante, and, to a woman like Vittoria, it was by no +means of the first difficulty to carry out her purpose.</p> + +<p>The winning over of Messer Griffo was no very <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>difficult business. He +was paid so much by Messer Simone; it only remained for Monna Vittoria +to pay him more to secure at least a careful consideration of her +wishes. She pointed out to the <i>condottiere</i> that all the advantage lay +for him in doing what she desired and leaving undone what was desired by +Messer Simone. Messer Griffo would serve Florence by preserving the +lives of so many of her best citizens; he would serve Florence by aiding +those citizens in that raid upon Arezzo, from which so much was hoped; +he would serve Florence by saving Messer Simone from the stain of such +unnecessary blood-guiltiness; above all, which to her, and indeed to the +Free Companion, seemed perhaps the most important point in the argument, +he would serve Monna Vittoria.</p> + +<p>Messer Griffo had ever an eye for a fine woman, and he was mightily +taken with Monna Vittoria, and made his taking plain in his bluff, +simple, soldierly fashion with a fine display of jewels and gold, which +only served to move Monna Vittoria to laughter, for she had as much as +she cared to have of such trifles, and was not to be purchased so. But +she clinched her bargain with him by assuring him, when she paid into +the hands of a sure and trusted third party the overprice agreed upon, +which was to make Messer Griffo false to Messer Simone, that after the +return to Florence of the Company of Death uninjured by him or his, he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span>would be a very welcome visitor at her house, and might consider +himself for a season the master of everything it contained. Messer +Griffo was in his way an amorist and in his way an idealist, to the +extent of regarding one pretty woman as more important than another +pretty woman, so he took Monna Vittoria's money and fooled Messer +Simone, and spared the lives of the young Florentine gentlemen, and rode +with them and fought with them, as you shall presently hear.</p> + +<p>It is no part of my intention to rehearse all that happened as the +result of our little raid. You can read all about it at great length +elsewhere. It was, as it proved, a very successful little raid. The +Aretines, marching out of their stronghold in good force to assault us, +whom they expected to find marching in all innocence to our doom, were +very neatly and featly taken in ambuscade by us. For, by the advice and +orders of Messer Griffo, who knew his business if ever a soldier of +fortune did, we that were of the Company of Death, we that the men of +Arezzo expected to see, we rode the latter part of our ride alone, as if +indeed we were the only attacking force, the while Messer Griffo +dissimulated his lances easily enough in the woods and valleys adjacent. +And when the Aretines perceived us, they shouted for satisfaction and +made to fall upon us pell-mell, having no heed of order or the +ordinances of war. Then it was, while they <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>were in this hurly-burly, +that Messer Griffo launched his men upon them from the right and from +the left, and that the real business of the day began. For what seemed +to me quite a long space of time, though indeed the whole business +lasted little more than an hour, there was some very pretty fighting, +with the solution of the war-like riddle far from certain. For the +Aretines were more numerous than we expected by a good deal, and, for +all they were taken by surprise, they carried themselves, as I must +confess, with a very commendable display of valor.</p> + +<p>To be entirely honest, I must confess that I remember very little about +the skirmish or scuffle or battle or whatever you may please to call it. +There was a great deal of charging and shouting, and though there were a +good many of us engaged on both sides on that field, it seemed to me, at +the time, as if I enjoyed a kind of isolation, and had no immediate, or +at least dangerous, concern with all those swords and lances that were +hacking and thrusting everywhere about me. I have since been told by +tough soldiers that when they were tender novices they felt much the +same as I felt in the clash of their first encounter, felt as if the +whole thing were a business that, however serious and significant to +others, was of no more moment than a pageant or a play to them +themselves that were having their first taste of war. Though I gave and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>took some knocks as the others did, and shouted as they shouted, I had +at the time no fear, not because of my valor, but because of a sudden +numbing of my wits, which left me with no intelligence to do otherwise +than charge and shout and lay about me like the rest.</p> + +<p>I am glad to record that Dante carried himself valiantly; not, indeed, +that I saw him at all till the tussle was over and such of our enemies +as were left taking to their heels as nimbly as might be. But I had it +on the word of Messer Guido, who could see as well as do, and who told +me the tale, that our friend bore himself most honorably and +courageously in the skirmish, which ended by beating back the +discomfited and diminished Aretines within the shelter of their walls. +It was, indeed, but a petty engagement, yet to those concerned it was as +serious as any pitched battle, and afforded the same chance of a wreath +of laurel or a broken head. And it seems certain that our Dante deserved +the wreath of laurel. He showed a little pale at first, according to +Guido, when the moment came to engage, and it may be that there was a +little trembling of the unseasoned members that was not to be +overmastered. But in a twinkling our Dante was as calm as a tempered +veteran, and in the thickest of the scrimmage he urged himself as +indifferent to peril as if, like Achilles in the old story, he had been +dipped in Styx.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p><p>What he told me himself later, as we rode for home, though he spoke but +little of the business and unwillingly, in reply to my eager and +frequent questionings, did but confirm what Guido related. He had, he +admitted frankly, been somewhat scared at first, but instantly he had +thought of his lady, and with that thought all terror fell away from +him, and his one desire became so to carry himself in that encounter as +to be deserving of her esteem. Afterward he told me that while he was in +the tremors of that first and unavoidable alarm he was cheered by a +miracle. You know already how the God of Love, in very person, had +ridden, visible only to the eyes of Dante, by Dante's side that night, +though the vision vanished at the time when the lances of the +Dragon-flag rode out of the sheltering wood to welcome our coming. Well, +now it seems that, when Dante was assailed by that very human, pitiable, +and pardonable pain and frailty, he suddenly became aware again of the +God of Love that was riding hard by him, but this time a little in +front, and this time on a great black war-horse. It seemed to Dante that +the wonderful youth turned a little in his saddle as he rode, and showed +his comely face to Dante and smiled, and it appeared to Dante as if Love +said to him, "Where I go, will not you go too?" And at the sound of +those words, Dante's heart was as hot as fire within his body, and he +carried himself very valiantly in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span>the battle, as every man should that +serves his city and loves a fair woman.</p> + +<p>Now if you that read me be at all inclined to wonder why we rode back so +rapidly to Florence on the very top of our victory, I am very ready to +tell you the why. It was Messer Griffo's doing, which is as much as to +say that it was Monna Vittoria's doing, who had laid her commands upon +her trusty Free Companion for her own ends. When the battered Aretines +had scurried back within the shelter of their walls, we would have been +ready and willing enough, we of the Company of Death, to stay and +besiege them. But Messer Griffo would not have it so, and Messer Griffo +was our captain. His orders were that as soon as we were breathed after +our battle—for I like to call it a battle—and had eaten and drunk of +the food and wine with which the mercenaries were plentifully provided, +we should ride back to Florence as briskly as might be, and uplift the +hearts of our fellow-citizens with our joyful tidings of triumph. Which +is why we got back to Florence on the morning of our engagement, as +Monna Vittoria wished, but not so early as Monna Vittoria would have +wished if she had known what was happening in our absence—known what +you are about to know.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>XXI</h2> + +<h3>MALEOTTI BEARS FALSE WITNESS</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">O</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">n</span> +that summer morning which saw us riding homeward, all flushed and +triumphant over our little victory, all Florence was early astir. +Florence was ever a matutinal city, and her citizens liked to be abroad +betimes to get at grips with their work, which they did well, and earn +leisure for their pleasures, which they enjoyed as thoroughly. But on +this especial morning the town seemed to open its eyes earlier than +usual, and shake itself clear of sleep more swiftly, and to bestir +itself with an activity unfamiliar even to a town of so active a +character. The cause for this unwonted bustle was not easy to ascertain +with precision. Somehow or other rumors, vague, fantastic, +contradictory, perplexing, irritating, bewildering, had blown hither and +thither as it were along the eaves and through chinks of windows and +under doorways, as an autumn wind carries the dried dead leaves. These +were rumors of some event of moment to the Republic that either had +happened, or was about to happen, or was happening at that very instant +of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>time. What this event of moment might precisely be, few, indeed, +could say, though all could make a guess and all availed themselves of +the power, and many and varied were the guesses that men made, and very +confident was every man that his particular guess was the only right and +true one.</p> + +<p>It is, indeed, strange how often, when some subtle move of statecraft is +being made whereof secrecy is the very vital essence, though those that +be in that secret keep their lips truly sealed, some inkling of what is +going on seems by some mysterious intuition to be given to folk that +have neither need of such knowledge, nor right nor title to it. So it +certainly proved in Florence on the morning after the ride against +Arezzo. Every man that came out into the streets—and the streets were +soon full of people, as a pomegranate is full of seeds—was positive +that something had happened of importance, or no less positive that +something of importance was going to happen, or that something of +importance was actually happening. In some occult manner it had leaked +out that a number of the youths of Florence were absent from their +dwellings. It gradually became known that all those that were thus +absent were members of the same party, and that party the one which was +held in no great affection by Messer Simone, the party of the Reds. +Furthermore, the story of the formation of the Company of Death had +become known, and it <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>needed no very elaborate process of speculation to +assume that the youths whose lodgings lacked their presence had +overnight, in Messer Folco's palace, inscribed their names in Messer +Simone's great book of enrollment.</p> + +<p>It being established, therefore, definitely, beyond doubt or cavil, that +something had happened, the next great question for the expectant +Florentines was, What thing had happened? But the answer to this +question was not yet, and in the meantime the expectant Florentines had +another matter of interest to consider and to discuss. Through all the +noise and babble and brawling of that agitated morning there came a +whisper, at first of the very faintest, which breathed insidiously and +with much mystery a very amazing piece of news. Men passed the whisper +on to men, women to women, till in a little while it had swelled into a +voice as loud as the call of a public crier, carrying into every corner +of the quarter where Messer Folco lived, and from thence into every +other quarter of the city its astonishing message of amazing wedlock. +Gossip told to gossip, with staring eyes and wagging fingers, that +Messer Folco's daughter, Monna Beatrice, she that had been the May-day +queen, and was so young and fair to look upon, she was to be married at +nine of that morning to Messer Simone dei Bardi, the man that so few +Florentines loved, the man that so many Florentines feared. It had, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>of +course, long been known in Florence, where the affairs of any family or +individual are for the most part familiar to all neighbors, that Messer +Simone wished to wed Monna Beatrice. It was known, too, that Messer +Folco was in nowise opposed to the match. Yet, for the sake of the +girl's sweetness and loveliness, all were ready to hope that such ill +nuptials would never come to pass. Thus, when the news of the immediate +marriage fluttered through Florence streets, it was the cause of no +little astonishment to those that first heard it, and they carried it on +the very edge of their lips to the nearest ears, and so made the circle +of astonishment greater.</p> + +<p>I am proud to say it, to the credit of my fellow-citizens, that the +greater part of those that heard the tidings shook their heads and +sighed. And, indeed, it needed no very great niceness of feeling or +softness of heart to recognize that a marriage between a man like Messer +Simone and a maid like Monna Beatrice was no admirable marriage, however +much the wish of a parent was to be respected. Every one recognized that +Beatrice was a maid as unusual in her goodness as Simone was a man, +thank Heaven, unusual in his badness. Wherefore, all detested the +undertaking. Yet disbelief in the story, a disbelief that was popular, +had perforce to change into unpopular belief when the very church was +named in which the ceremony was to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>take place—the Church of the Holy +Name; and those that hastened thither did indeed find all preparations +being made for a wedding, and learned from the sacristan that Messer +Simone did, indeed, upon that very morning, mean to marry the daughter +of Folco Portinari. Yet, as I learned afterward, for all these +assurances and all these preparations, the marriage was, up to a certain +moment, no such sure a matter as Messer Simone wished and Messer Folco +willed and the good-hearted folk of Florence regretted.</p> + +<p>I have always accepted the customs of my time, and found them on the +whole excellent, and it has ever been our custom for us to wed our +daughters as we will, and not according to their wishes, our view being +that elders are wiser than youngsters, and that it is more becoming and +orderly that a maid should marry to please her father than that she +should marry to please herself. For there may be a thousand reasons for +a certain marriage, very obvious to a prudent parent, such as land, +houses, plate, linen, vineyards, florins, and the like, all of which are +of the utmost importance in the economy of a well-domesticated +household, but are unhappily little calculated to attract the dawning +senses of a nubile girl. Yet in a little while, when she has become a +matron and got used to her husband, with what a complacent, with what a +housewifely approving eye she will behold her treasures of gold <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span>and +silver and pewter and fine linen and the rest of her possessions. So, +for the most part, it should always be; but there is no rule that has +not its exception, and if ever there were a case in which a daughter +might be justified for resisting the will of her parent in the matter of +a marriage, I think the case of Folco's daughter is the case, and I for +one can never be brought to blame her in the slightest degree for her +conduct, or call it misconduct.</p> + +<p>It seems that when the morning came Madonna Beatrice showed herself +unexpectedly and unfamiliarly opposed, not merely to her parent's wish, +but to her parent's commands. Messer Folco, who had not seen his +daughter since the previous night, when she fell swooning in the arms of +Messer Tommaso Severo, at first could not believe in her opposition. She +told him, astonished as he was at this amazing mutiny, that she could +not and would not wed Messer Simone, because her heart was pledged to +another, and that other one whom she would not name. Madonna Beatrice +kept silence thus rigorously the identity of her lover, because of her +certainty that the swords of her kinsmen would be whetted against him +the moment that his name was known. In this she was right, for Dante was +everything that the Portinari scorned, being poor with a poverty that +tarnished, in their eyes, his rightful nobility, being of the Reds, +being of no <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>account in the affairs of Florence. That he was a poet +would no more hinder them from killing him than the gift of song would +save a nightingale from a hawk. Messer Folco was at first very stern and +then very angry at his daughter's attitude, but he was stern and angry +alike in vain. The more Messer Folco stormed, the less he effected. +Though Beatrice seemed to grow paler and frailer at her father's +nagging, she grew none the less stubborn, and Messer Folco's fury flamed +higher at her unwonted obstinacy. His naturally choleric disposition got +the better of his philosophic training and his habitual self-restraint, +and he threatened, pleaded, and commanded in turns without making any +change in Beatrice's frozen resistance. The pitiable struggle lasted +until Messer Maleotti, having ridden leisurely through the cool of the +morning, chose, when within sight of Florence, to spur his horse to a +gallop and to come tearing through the gates, reeling on his saddle, as +one that bore mighty tidings, which must be delivered to Messer Simone +dei Bardi without delay.</p> + +<p>What these tidings were Folco was soon enough to learn. Messer Simone +hastened to Messer Folco's house and demanded audience of the lady +Beatrice. He found her and her father together, Messer Folco still +fuming, Madonna Beatrice still pale and resolved. Simone stayed with a +large gesture Messer Folco's protestations of regret at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span>having so +unmannerly a daughter, and, addressing himself to Beatrice, asked her if +it was true that her affection for another stood in the way of her +obedience to her father's wishes. She seemed to be almost past speech +after the long struggle with her father, but she made a sign with her +head to show that this was so. Thereupon Simone, making his voice as +gentle and tender as it was possible for him to make it, went on to ask +her if by any chance the man she so favored was young Messer Dante of +the Alighieri. Madonna Beatrice would not answer him this question, +either by word or sign. Then Simone, allowing his voice to grow sad, as +one that sorrows for another's loss, assured her that if that were so, +there could be no further obstacle to her father's wishes, because he +was at that moment the bearer of the bad news that Messer Dante and all +those that were with him had been killed that morning by treason in a +wood half-way to Arezzo. While Messer Simone was telling this tale to +Beatrice, the same story was running like fire through the streets of +Florence, for Messer Maleotti was very willing to tell what had +happened, or rather what he thought had happened, to whomsoever cared to +ask or to listen, and I take it that there was not a man or woman in all +Florence who did not seek to have news at first hand of the disaster.</p> + +<p>It seems that at this news the unnatural resistance of Madonna Beatrice +to her father's orders <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span>broke down entirely. I use the term "unnatural" +as one in nowise implying any censure of Madonna Beatrice for her +resistance to her father's wishes, but rather as describing the strength +beyond her nature which she put into that resistance. For I hold that +the dominion of parents on the one side, and the obedience of children +and the deference of children to that dominion on the other side, may be +made too much of and thought too much of, and in no case more so than +when a controversy arises concerning matters of the heart. All this +wisdom by the way. If Madonna Beatrice had been pale before, she was +paler now, and for a breathing-while it seemed as if she would swoon, +but she did not swoon. They sent for her physician, Messer Tommaso +Severo, who could do nothing, and said as much. Madonna Beatrice, he +declared, was very weak; it were well not to distress her over-much. +Beyond that he said little, partly because he was naturally enough in +agreement with Messer Folco in his views as to the rule of parents over +children, and partly because he was aware how frail a spirit of life was +housed in her sweet body, and knew that no art of his or of any man's +was of avail to strengthen it or to hinder its departure when the time +must be.</p> + +<p>While all this was toward, Madonna Beatrice seemed to come out of the +silent fit into which the false news of Dante's death had cast her, and +when <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span>her father asked her again, something less sternly than before, +but still peremptorily, if she would have Messer Simone for mate, she +did no more than incline her head in what Messer Folco took to be a +signal of submission to his will. At this yielding he, being by nature +an authoritarian, seemed not a little pleased. For the death of Dante, +and the effect that death might have upon his daughter's welfare, he did +not care and did not profess to care in the least. Dante as a human +being was nothing to him—nothing more, at least, than a young man who +belonged to an opposite party, had no money or family backing, and owed +what little esteem he had gained in the public mind to his writing some +clever verses and making a mystery about their authorship, the said +verses being particularly offensive to him, Folco Portinari, because +they had the insolence to be aimed at his daughter. So having carried +his point and enforced his authority, Messer Folco straightway sent a +messenger to the church chosen for the ceremony to have all in readiness +for the immediate nuptials.</p> + +<p>As for Beatrice, though she still seemed like a woman that was stricken +with a catalepsy, she was, by her father's orders, girded in a white +gown and girdled and garlanded with white roses, and in such guise +Messer Folco and Messer Simone between them—with my curse on them for a +fool and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span>a knave—led their helpless victim from the Portinari house +into the open air. There a litter awaited her, into which she went +unresisting, and so with the people of her father's household about her, +wearing her father's crest upon their coats, she went her way to the +Church of the Holy Name.</p> + +<p>I do not think that in all the tragic tales of old time there is one +more lamentable than this of lady Beatrice. Monna Iphigenia, so +piteously butchered in Aulis, that the Greek kings might have a +soldier's wind toward Troy, was not more sadly sacrificed, and in the +case of Beatrice, as in that of the Greek damsel, a father was a +consenting party to the crime. The case of Jephthah's daughter was less +pathetic, for there at least the parent was deeply afflicted by the +darts of destiny, whereas old Agamemnon and our Folco were, whatever +their reluctance to dedicate their daughters to an uncomfortable fate, +quite prepared to do so. All of which goes to show that humanity is the +same to-day as it was yesterday, and will, in all likelihood, be the +same to-morrow. There will always be good and bad, kind and unkind, wise +and foolish, always sweet lovers will be singing their songs in the +praise of their sweethearts that are walking in the rose-gardens, and +sour parents will be scowling from the windows. For my own part, I am +always on the side of any lover, young or old, straight or <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>crooked, +gentle or simple, for to my mind, in this muddle of a world, the state +of being in love is at least a definite state, and, whenever and however +gratified, a pleasant state.</p> + +<p>I can honestly say, in looking back over the book of my memory, that I +can find no page therein which is not overwritten with the name of some +pretty girl. And though I will not be such a coxcomb as to assert that I +was always favored by any fair upon whom it might please me to cast an +approving eye, yet I must needs admit that I found a great deal of +favor. This I attribute largely to a merry disposition and a ready +desire to please, together with a very genial indifference if, by any +chance, the maid should prove disdainful. For it may be taken as a +general principle that maids are the less tempted to be disdainful if +they guess—and they are shrewd guessers—that their disdain will be met +with a blithe carelessness. Speaking of carelessness and disdain and the +like, reminds me that I have never done what I meant to from the +beginning, and tell you how I fared in my love-affair with Brigitta, the +girl that gave me the cuff and had such strange eyes. But I fear now +that I am too deeply embarked upon the love-affairs of another to have +the leisure to digress into my own adventures. The world is more +interested in love's tragedies than in the comedies of love, wherein I +have ever played my part, and so I will go back to my Dante and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span>his sad +affairs, and leave my little love-tale for another occasion. But at +least I may be suffered to set down this much in passing—that Brigitta +was a very attractive girl, and that I was really very fond of her.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>XXII</h2> + +<h3>THE RETURN OF THE REDS</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">he</span> +Church of the Holy Name was filled as full as it could hold, and +those outside were grumbling at their hard case in being cut off from so +much solemnity or jollification, according to their opinion of the +ceremony inside. But it came to pass that the lot of these outsiders +proved, from the point of view of those that like to assist, if only as +spectators, at the making of history, to be more fortunate than that of +those who had gained admittance to the church. For suddenly, from far +away, there came a shouting, meaningless at first, but momentarily +growing in meaning, till at last men shrieked into their neighbors' ears +that the supposed lost and slaughtered of the youth of Florence were not +lost nor slaughtered at all, but were alive and well, and were riding in +triumph through the city gates, having inflicted innumerable woes upon +the devils of Arezzo.</p> + +<p>Such tidings were unbelievable, were not to be believed, were not +believed, were believed—all in the winking of an eyelid. The insolent +chivalry of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>Company of Death were, as it seemed, all, or almost +all, to hand with Messer Guido Cavalcanti at their head. With them came +the news that the Aretines had been beaten in battle, and that the ever +illustrious <i>condottiere</i>, Griffo of the Claw, was flying his +Dragon-flag in the very face of the scared burghers of Arezzo, huddled +behind their naughty walls. Here was a mighty change in the fortunes of +Florence, its full significance understood by few then, and not by many +until long after that day.</p> + +<p>At first the news seemed incredible to those that had not ocular proof +of its verity, but these soon were convinced. Was not Messer Guido +Cavalcanti riding through the city gates, whither all were now running, +and was not Messer Dante by his side, and your humble servant who writes +these lines, and many another youth well known to the Florentine +populace? So that, in a little while, the space before the church, that +had been so thickly crowded, was as empty as my palm, and Messer Guido +and his fellowship of the Company of Death were like to be unhorsed and +swallowed up in a wave of popular enthusiasm. Messer Guido restrained +the kindly intentions of the crowd with some difficulty, and thereafter +harangued them at some length, and with eloquence worthy of a Roman +patrician of old days. He told them how the fortunes of Florence were +again, as ever before, triumphant, how the devils of Arezzo had been +taught <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span>a lesson they would not be likely to forget in a hurry, and, +furthermore, how much Florence owed to the splendid assistance given to +her arms by Messer Griffo of the Dragon-flag and his Free Companions.</p> + +<p>Now, at every pause in Messer Guido's speech, the air was shattered with +deafening huzzas, some echo of which would, one must surely think, find +its way into that solemn and sombre church where the fairest lady in +Florence was being given to Florence's greatest knave. How great a knave +none of us realized at that moment, for we, of course, were ignorant of +the intention of Messer Simone with regard to us, and the narrow escape +we had from being annihilated by those very Free Companions whose +praises Messer Guido was so generously voicing. Even while Guido was +speaking, those of us behind and about him heard many things hurriedly +from the citizens that pressed against us. One of them was the news of +our own supposed slaughter at the hands of the people of Arezzo, and the +other—more terrible, indeed, to one of us—was that on that very +instant Madonna Beatrice was being wedded to Simone dei Bardi in the +Church of the Holy Name.</p> + +<p>It was just when Messer Guido had made an end of speaking that the ill +news came to Dante's ears, and when he heard it he gave a great cry and +urged his horse forward through the throng, crying <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>to the people in a +terrible voice to let him pass, and there was something in his set face +and angry eyes, and in the manner of his command, which made the people +yield to them, and so he rode his way, slowly, indeed, because of the +press, but as quickly as he could, and still calling, like one +possessed, for free passage. When Guido knew what had happened, for the +tale was soon told to him, he foresaw what trouble might come to pass, +and he resolved to stand by Dante and lend him a hand in case of need. +So he called upon his friends to keep with him, and we all followed hard +upon Dante's heels, and, as rapidly as was possible for the crush in the +streets, we made our way to the open space in front of the church, the +open space that now lay so vacant under the noontide sun. There Messer +Dante flung himself from his horse and made to run at full speed toward +the church door, and we, too, dismounting hurriedly, made after him, for +we feared greatly what he might do or say in his anger, even within the +precincts of the sacred place. Messer Guido, though I fear he had no +great regard for the sanctity of such shrines and temples, made haste to +restrain him, for he knew very well how it would hurt his friend in the +eyes of devout Florentines if he were to cause any scandal in a church.</p> + +<p>But before Dante could reach the blessed house its great doors yawned +open, and many of those <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>that were inside came tumbling out and down the +steps to form a hedge on either side, and through the human lane thus +made the wedding party came out into the fierce sunlight. They stood for +a moment on the threshold, very plain for all to see. Messer Simone +showed very large and gorgeous, shining in some golden stuff like the +gilded image of a giant, his great face flushed with triumph. Hard by +him stood Messer Folco, looking very anxious and haughty and stern, +grimly conscious, I suppose, that he had played the Roman father very +properly, and yet, as I take it, not without some tragic aches and +pinches at his heart for the consequences of his deed. Between him and +Simone stood his doomed daughter, Beatrice, resting a little on the arm +of her physician, Messer Tommaso Severo, and pale with such a paleness +as I never yet saw upon the face of a woman, living or dead. It was, as +who should say, a kind of frozen paleness, the pallor of a marble +statue, the outward sign of a sorrow so great that time could never +soften its sting. Behind these three stood the friends and kinsfolk of +Simone and the friends and kinsfolk of Messer Folco, and made a brave +background for the tragedy. So, for a moment, the three stood looking +straight into the square before them, and then it was plain that they +suddenly became conscious of untoward events, and Messer Simone forgot +his triumph, and Messer Folco his pride, and Madonna <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>Beatrice her +misery, when they saw Dante standing all armored in front of them, and +behind him the triumphant faces of the Company of Death. Then Madonna +Beatrice gave a great cry and ran quickly forward to Dante, and Dante +caught her in his arms.</p> + +<p>"They told me you were dead," she sobbed, and then lay very quiet in his +embrace, whispering to him what had been related to her.</p> + +<p>Messer Simone gave a great bellow of rage, and bent his head like an +angry bull, and he wrenched his sword from the hand of the serving-man +that carried it, and plucked its blade from its house. Very plainly he +must have seen that his damnable plan had miscarried, and that in some +unfathomable manner the men he had devoted to destruction, and of all +these men most notably Dante, had escaped the fate he had arranged for +them. Messer Dante, still holding Beatrice in his arms, had his sword +drawn, and stood very steadfastly awaiting Simone's onslaught, looking, +as it seemed to me, like some young saint from a Book of Hours abiding +the attack of some pagan monster. But before Simone could move, Messer +Guido and the rest of us had swarmed up beside and about Dante, and all +our victorious swords were bare, and we seemed a menacing body enough to +any that chose to oppose us. So those of Messer Simone's friends +immediately about him flung themselves upon him, persuading <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span>him by +words and restraining him with difficulty by force, for he dragged them +hither and thither, clinging to him as a wounded bear plays with a +huddle of dogs.</p> + +<p>Then Messer Folco, very gray in the face and stately of bearing, +advanced in front of Messer Simone, where he struggled with his friends, +and addressed us. "Sirs," he said, gravely, "what has come to the city +of Florence, so famous for its decorum and its dignity, when the +marriage of one of her citizens is thus rudely interrupted by roysterers +in arms?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII"></a>XXIII</h2> + +<h3>THE PEACE OF THE CITY</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">W</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">hile</span> +Messer Folco spoke, he did not look at Messer Dante at all, but +seemed to address himself solely to Messer Guido, as being the man of +most standing present among his antagonists, and he began to reprove +Messer Guido very sharply for such brawling and riotous conduct. But +Messer Guido answered him very plainly and courteously that he was there +present merely as a friend of his friend, and that it was for Messer +Dante and not for him to speak as to the reasons for what he had done.</p> + +<p>Then Dante cried out in a loud voice to those about him, saying: "Oh, +Florentines, I am here to demand justice of the Republic! For this lady +and I were troth-pledged, and she has only been persuaded to marry my +enemy through a lying tale of my death."</p> + +<p>At these words of Dante's, the clamor and tumult that had lulled for a +moment broke out afresh, every man striving to say his say at the same +time, with the result that no man was anywise <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>audible in the great din +that followed. It seemed likely that Florence would see again enacted +one of those bloody public feuds such as had not now, for some time, +desolated her hearths and distracted her streets. People were beginning +to divide on this unexpected quarrel and take this side or that, as +their fancy or their allegiance might lead them, and I think that the +most part of the public took sides with Dante, partly because he was +young and a lover, and partly because he was one of the victors in the +fight against the Aretines, and fresh from the field of triumph, and +partly, too, out of a very general dislike to Messer Simone. But Simone +had plenty of followers too, that were very ready to draw sword and to +strike for him, and Messer Folco Portinari had his friends and his +kinsfolk, who shared his indignation at the wrong which, as they +conceived, was thus publicly put upon him.</p> + +<p>The object of Messer Folco's friends was to take away Beatrice from +Dante, by whose side she now stood, very pale and calm and determined. +The object of Messer Simone was now, if by any means he could compass +it, to kill Dante where he stood, and as many of his friends as were +with him, and so get rid of this troublesome young opponent once for +all. Therefore, many swords were raised in the air, and many voices +screamed old war-cries that had not vexed the winds of Florence for long +enough, and enemy taunted enemy, and antagonist <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>challenged antagonist, +and it needed but a little thing to set fire to the torch of civic war. +But before any sword could strike against another, and before those +zealous champions of peace, that were running as fast as they could to +the Signory to summon the city authorities to intervene and stay strife, +could gain their end, there came an unexpected interruption to the +threatened conflict.</p> + +<p>It was Beatrice herself who held back the hostile forces and stayed the +lifted swords. She moved from her place by the side of her lover and +stood a little ways apart from him, at about an equal distance between +him and her father, and she raised her voice to speak to the people of +her city; and those about her, seeing what she meant to do, were +instantly silent, and the silence spread over all the assembled crowd; +and when Beatrice spoke she was heard by all who were present. It was a +rare and a strange thing for a Florentine woman thus to address a +turbulent assemblage of citizens that seemed bent on immediate battle. +Yet the lady Beatrice spoke to all those fierce and eager people as +sweetly and as quietly as if she had been welcoming her father's guests +in her father's house. What she said was to the effect that she +entreated all those that were about her to have patience, even as she +would have patience. She further said that a great wrong had been done +to her, for it was indeed true that she had plighted her troth to Messer +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span>Dante there present, though this had been done in secret, for which +secrecy she now asked her father's forgiveness, but that when her father +desired her to marry Messer Simone, she had refused to wed another than +the man she loved, whatever might come of it. Then she said she had been +told of Dante's death, and had no further strength left in her to +disobey her father's wishes, seeing that if her lover were indeed dead, +she had no care for what might become of her. Now she appealed to her +father and to the people of her city to take her strange and sad case +into their hands, and to protect her until it was made plain that she +had been wrought upon by fraud and cunning, and forced by false +representations into a marriage that should never have taken place and +should now be annulled.</p> + +<p>All the people marvelled to hear her speak so calmly and so wisely, and +the most part of them applauded her when she had done speaking, and +Messer Folco, for all his anger and his wounded pride, was touched by +her words, and extended his hand to her, and she came to him and stood +by his side. But Messer Simone and Messer Simone's people would have +none of the proposal, and shouted loudly against it, and it seemed as if +the brawl were likely to begin again on the instant, and I am very sure +it would have done so had it not been for the arrival of the Priors of +the city with an armed following. These kept the two <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>opposing parties +asunder, and the Captain of the People of the city demanded to know the +meaning of what had happened, and Messer Guido Cavalcanti began to tell +him the tale.</p> + +<p>Now, while he did so, and while all were listening to him in silence, +Messer Dante, who was standing very still and stern, with his hands +resting upon the hilt of his sword, felt that one plucked him by the +garment, and, turning, found that a woman stood at his side with a hood +drawn closely over her face. This woman told him, in a low voice that +seemed to him familiar, that if he was alive in that hour it was no +thanks to Messer Simone, who had sold him to Griffo, and had, as he +believed, sent him and his companions to a certain and treacherous +death, and that he would have perished if Messer Griffo had not been +persuaded to play an honorable part and be faithful to the city of +Florence. When the woman had done speaking she slipped away from Dante +and disappeared into the crowd, and Dante, with that strange story +humming in his brain, waited with little patience till Messer Guido had +finished saying his say to the listening authorities. Then he sprang +forward toward the Captain of the People, declaring, in a loud voice, +that Messer Simone was a traitor to the city, inasmuch as to gratify a +private hate, he had sent him and his fellows to perish in an ambuscade.</p> + +<p>Now at these words, of course, the brawling was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span>renewed a thousandfold +worse than before, every man screaming at the top of his voice and +gesticulating, as if in the hope that pantomime might succeed in +conveying his opinions where words indeed must fail in the hubbub. Under +cover of the clamor, men of the Red party and men of the Yellow party +challenged one another to the arbitrament of steel, and what with the +shouting and counter-shouting and the clatter of weapons, and the +stamping of many feet on the cobbles, there was such a din set up as +seemed to some of us, in our bewilderment, likely to last forever. Words +would speedily have become blows and blows brought blood, and all the +place become a battle-field very presently, if it had not been for the +presence of the Captain of the People and the Priors of the city, whose +dignity indeed counted for nothing to allay the tumult, but whose strong +escort of armed men served the turn better by keeping the would-be +combatants apart, that were so lusting to be upon one another. After a +while, for want of a better settlement, this composition was agreed +upon, or, rather, was decided upon by the Priors, that were enabled to +enforce their authority by their showing of armed force.</p> + +<p>What they did was to put the Peace of Florence, as the custom was in +those days, upon the belligerent disputants. According to this custom, +each of the parties to any quarrel that threatened to become <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>such a +public brawl as might cause disturbance to the state was called upon to +clasp the hand of the Captain of the People, and swear to keep the Peace +of the City. If he did this, he was suffered to go to his own house, +where for a while, as I think, authority kept a wary eye upon him. If he +would not do this, then the Captain of the People had the right to clap +him into prison and keep him there till he was of a more reasonable and +pacific mood of mind. All of which serves to show how excellent were our +laws and customs, and how intelligently and discriminatingly they were +administered.</p> + +<p>Well, our Captain and Priors put the Peace of the City upon Messer +Simone dei Bardi, that was on one side of the quarrel, and on Messer +Dante dei Alighieri, that was on the other side of the quarrel. Messer +Simone took the peace because he could not very well help doing so at +that time and in that place, being, as it were, in a tight corner. He +was outnumbered for the moment; the feeling of the fickle public was +against him, taken, as it naturally was and rightly was, by the +love-tale and Dante's youth and daring, and Beatrice's beauty and her +sadness and her courage. So, with a sour smile enough, the bull-faced +fellow flung out his right hand to the Captain of the People and gave +the clasp of peace, and then drew back a little, very sullen and +scowling, yet for the nonce tame enough. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>Then Dante in his turn came +forward to give and take the pressure of peace, and all we that looked +upon him and loved him, Messer Guido and I and others of our age and +company, thought that we had never beheld him show more noble. His +spirit, that had been tempered in conflict, gave an elder's dignity to +his youth; his anger had set him in a splendid sternness, while his love +had invested him with the raiment of a no less splendid serenity. It was +a brave and chivalrous soldier that stood there in the sight of all +Florence, a figure infinitely better to my eyes than the scholar who +dogged the footsteps of Brunetto Latini, or even than the poet whose +songs had enchanted the city. For a scholar is often a thing of naught, +and a poet, as I know, may be little enough, but our Dante, as he stood +there and gave the pledge of peace, was indeed a man.</p> + +<p>So it was for the time arranged and settled. Madonna Beatrice, she that +was a wife and yet no wife, went with her father to her father's house, +there to abide until such time as a decision might be come to as to her +case. Messer Simone, in high dudgeon, withdrew to his dwelling-place +with his friends about him. As for Messer Dante, he was for going to his +lodging, very lonely and stern and silent, but I would not have it so. +For I could guess, being, after all, no fool, how bad it might be for +one of so sensitive a disposition as my friend <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span>to fret his spirit in +isolation. So I persuaded him—and indeed I think in the end he was not +sorry to be so persuaded—to take up his quarters with me.</p> + +<p>Mine were merry rooms in a merry house of a merry neighborhood, and +therein I installed him, and did my best to cheer him, and in the end +persuaded him to talk a little, but not much. For he was one of those +that will spin out the secret of his heart in rhymes for all the world +to read, but is inclined to be sullenly mumchance if invited to open his +bosom to a sympathetic listener. But anyways I sang to him; I had a +mellow voice in those days, and even now, though I ought not to say it, +Brother Lappentarius is as good as another, and perhaps better, when it +comes to chanting a hymn. I pressed food and wine upon him, of which, +however, he would taste but little, for the which lack of +good-fellowship I was obliged to make amends myself, that was ever a +good trencherman, by eating and drinking for the pair of us. Which I +did, as I am pleased to believe, very honestly and thoroughly. But I +think, on the whole, I was glad, as I sat and watched him sitting there +by my hearth, with the brooding look on his face that was already so +eagle-like, that my love-affairs had not conducted me to such great +stresses of the soul. I had enjoyed myself very much. I was, as I am +pleased to record, to enjoy myself even more in the years that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span>followed. But my pastimes had never cost me, and never did cost me, an +hour's sleep for any cares that they brought me, and I never had to +strive with the great ones of the earth for the smiles of any she. While +here was my Dante, very unhappy, in a position of great danger, menaced +by mighty enemies, threatened by an infinity of perils, and all for a +woman. "All for <i>the</i> woman!" he would have answered me, rebuking me, if +I had been so unwise as to set my views of life and love before him on +that day.</p> + +<p>I was not so unwise. I merely babbled and chanted to divert him from his +distress, and was careful to keep my thoughts to myself. In my heart I +wondered how it was all to end for him, that was so young and so little +rich, pitted against such powerful interests. At least I could read in +his face, and in those lines which destiny was already tracing with iron +pencil on his springtime's flesh, that he would face his dangers and his +difficulties with a dauntless spirit, and that no enemy or bunch of +enemies would ever get the better of that so long as it still held a +lodging within the carnal house. If I was glad, on the whole, that I was +not in Messer Dante's shoes, I may say very truly that I did not think +any the better of myself then, and do not think any the better of myself +now, for being so glad. But it is well to know one's own boundaries, and +I knew <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>very well that I was never made for Dante's loves or Dante's +hates or Dante's adventures on life's highway. Well, if there must be +knights-errant, there must also be more easy-going, flower-picking +pilgrims in the pageant of life.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XXIV" id="XXIV"></a>XXIV</h2> + +<h3>BREAKING THE PEACE</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">N</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">ow,</span> +of course, it is one thing to put the Peace of the City upon a man, +and another thing to make him abide by his peaceful promise. Messer +Simone had put his pledge, with his palm and fingers, into the hand of +the Captain of the People, but he had done so because at the given +instant he could not very well see that there was anything else for him +to do—as, indeed, there was not. But Simone was never a man to give +undue weight to the words or forms of a foolish ceremony if the +ceremonial stood in the way of anything he wished to accomplish and saw +the chance of accomplishing. Therefore, Messer Simone did not intend to +keep the Peace of the City a moment longer than was convenient for him. +But before deciding to break it he had other things to do which he set +about doing with all possible dispatch.</p> + +<p>In the first place, he was very wild to know how he had been baffled and +bubbled in the business of the Aretine expedition, and who had played +him false in that matter. Interrogation of Maleotti <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span>made it plain to +him that Maleotti had acted in good faith if Maleotti had acted +foolishly. He had been confident, and, as Simone could not but admit, +reasonably confident, that when he saw the little fellowship of the +Company of Death ride into the wood with Griffo's lances about them and +Griffo's Dragon-flag above them, that they would never emerge alive from +the wood, but would leave their bones to whiten amid its leaves. Why, +then, had Messer Griffo been untrue to his promise? Simone could not +admit that any arguments or promises of his intended victims would have +had power to stay his lifted sword, for there was no one in all their +number who could pay down the money that Simone could pay down; and as +to argument, Griffo of the Dragon-flag was too busy a man to bother +about other people's arguments. Yet Griffo left the Company of Death a +misnomer, as far as he was concerned. Griffo had let the Reds ride +onward to Arezzo and back to Florence, very much to Simone's annoyance +and discomfiture. What, then, was the cause of Griffo's defalcation, and +who had inspired him to this signal piece of treachery?</p> + +<p>Simone shrewdly suspected Madonna Vittoria to be at the back of the +matter, a suspicion that was plentifully fed by Maleotti, who was eager +enough to get his patron's angry thoughts directed against any other +than himself. Luckily, however, for Madonna Vittoria, she very shrewdly +suspected <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>that Simone would shrewdly suspect her, and she laid her +plans accordingly. After she had whispered into Dante's ear, in the +square before the Church of the Holy Name, the secret of Simone's +treason, she decided that it might be as well for her to change the air +of Florence for one which she could breathe in greater security. Simone +of the Bardi, never a pleasant man in his best moods, would be very far +indeed from proving a pleasant man to any crosser of his purpose, even +if that crosser were a woman as fair as Monna Vittoria. The woman's +imagination could feel the grip of Simone's fingers about her throat, +and she shivered at the thought in the warm air. She could see Simone's +eyes glaring wolfishly down upon her, and she lowered her own lids at +the fancied sight and shuddered. When she had a little shaken off the +effects of this most disagreeable vision, she took her precautions to +prevent its becoming a reality.</p> + +<p>When, therefore, Simone came in a rage to Vittoria's villa with a tale +of his trustiest ruffians at his heels, he found no Madonna Vittoria +waiting to receive him, to be questioned, to be forced to confess, to be +punished. Far away on the highroad toward Arezzo a youth was riding +furiously, a comely youth that seemed not a little plump in his clothes +of golden brocade, a youth with a scarlet cap on a crown of dark hair, a +youth that kept a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span>splendid horse galloping at full speed toward Messer +Griffo's encampment outside Arezzo. If Messer Simone could have known of +that riding figure he would have been even angrier than he was. All he +did know was that Monna Vittoria was nowhere within the liberties of her +villa, and as he realized this fact he stood for a while closing and +unclosing the fingers of his great hands with an expression on his face +that would have made Vittoria sick could she but see it.</p> + +<p>Though his business with Monna Vittoria was thus, and thus far, proved a +failure, Simone had another matter to attend to which yielded a more +successful issue. Messer Simone wished to ascertain how far his standing +in the city had been injured by recent events, and how far he might +count on the support of those that had always hitherto been reckoned as +his friends. As to the first horn of the dilemma, he really felt little +anxiety. There was never a man of all the men in the party of the +Yellows that could be found to utter disapproving word of a plan that +had promised to annihilate at a single stroke the majority of those that +were most important among their opponents. Some few, indeed, might be +inclined, on general patriotic grounds, to protest against a course of +action which slaughtered one's private foes—however commendable the +slaughter might be under ordinary circumstances—while engaged in +military operations <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>against an enemy of the city, and under the very +eyes, as it were, of that enemy. But here Messer Simone had his +comfortable answer in reserve. The very wiping out of his private +enemies was to be an important factor in the later wiping out of the +public enemy. Was not Arezzo, deceived by this action of private +justice, to take Messer Griffo to her arms, only to find that she had +cuddled a cockatrice? Up to this point Messer Simone felt fairly sure of +himself and of his ground.</p> + +<p>He received no goring from the second horn—nay, not so much as a prick +to break the skin. His friends were as plentiful, his friends were as +zealous as ever, as ready to serve Messer Simone with enthusiasm so long +as Messer Simone had the millions of his kinsmen and the bank behind +him. Simone made sure, and very sure, that a very respectable army would +rise behind him if he chose to cry his war-cry, and season that +utterance with the relish of the added words, "Death to the +Reds!"—words that were always in Simone's heart, and would now, as he +believed, be very soon upon his lips, to the discomfiture of his +adversaries. In a word, Messer Simone was ripe, and overripe, for a +breach of the peace, and could barely be persuaded to wait for +opportunity and a pretext. He did wait, however, and he soon got both.</p> + +<p>With the next morning there came one to my abode asking to have speech +with me, and when <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span>I went to see who it was I found that my visitor was +none other than Messer Tommaso Severo, that was so long physician to the +Portinari family. He told me that he heard that Messer Dante was for the +time dwelling with me as my guest, and when I told him that this was so +he went on that he had come the bearer of a message to my friend, asking +him to come very instantly to the Portinari palace. When I showed some +surprise at this, Messer Tommaso Severo told me that Madonna Beatrice +desired most earnestly to speak with Dante, and that her father had +consented to this out of his great love for his child, which seemed +suddenly to have grown stronger in the midst of all these +ill-happenings. He further told me that Messer Folco had long been bound +to Simone because of large sums that ruffian had lent him from time to +time for the building of his hospitals and the like, which had swallowed +up the mass of Messer Folco's own fortune. Not that Messer Simone cared +for any such good works, but because, by doing as he did, he laid Messer +Folco under heavier obligations to him. Now, however, according to +Messer Tommaso, Folco saw more clearly the character of the man that he +had made his son-in-law, and also the character of his own daughter that +he had never understood till now, and he was now resolved to repay +Messer Simone all he owed him if he sold everything he possessed to do +so, and thereafter use all <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span>his credit among his friends at Rome, and he +had many there, to get the marriage annulled by the Holy See. Then I +went and summoned Dante, and he came out and greeted Messer Tommaso and +went away with him, going like one that moves in the grave joy of some +fair dream.</p> + +<p>Now what chanced to Dante when he went his ways to the Portinari palace +I shall set down presently as it has come to me, seeing that I was not +present, but giving, as I believe, the substance and the truth. But when +he and Messer Tommaso had left me, I thought to myself that I would busy +my leisure with writing a sonnet or so to some merry jills of my +acquaintance. But when I had got me ink and parchment, I found, to my +surprise, that I was in no fit mood for wooing the muses, and that the +rhymes that were wont to be so ready to jig to my whistle were now most +fretfully rebellious, and would not come, for all my application. So +there I sat and stared at the unstained whiteness of my sheets and +grumbled at the sluggishness of my spirit, and presently I applied +myself pretty briskly to the wine-flask, in the hope of quickening my +spirits. But the wine proved as hostile to my rhyming as the muses had +been, and after a little while, when I had drunk a toast to some half a +dozen sweetnesses that were then very dear to me, what must I do but +fall into the depths of a very profound sleep.</p> + +<p>How long I lay in that lethargy I do not know; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span>only I remember dreaming +incoherent and distorted dreams, because, after all, a chair is no +proper place in which to seek slumber. I thought I was wandering in a +wood where satyrs grinned at me and nymphs eluded me, and where I was +mightily vexed at my ill fortune. Then suddenly all the trees began to +talk at the tops of their voices, and though it did not surprise me in +the least that trees could talk, yet it annoyed me that I could not hear +what they said, because of their all talking together, and in my +indignation I awoke to find that the trees were still talking as it +seemed, and that the sound of their voices filled the chamber where I +sat uncomfortably enough, staring about me with drowsy eyes. All of a +sudden I realized that the noises I heard were the voices of no trees, +but the clamor of human voices in the streets outside, and that they +swelled to a great roar of menace and alarm and anger.</p> + +<p>You may believe that I was up and awake in a twinkling, and that I +caught up my sword as a wise citizen does when there is brawling abroad +in the streets of Florence, and in less time than I take to tell it I +was out of my house and in the open, looking eagerly about me. The +street was all full of people running and shouting as they ran, and man +caught at man as they ran and asked questions and was answered, and I +heard the name of Simone dei Bardi and of the Portinari palace, and that +was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>enough for me. If I had borne wings on my heels, like Hermes of +old, or carried a pair on each shoulder, like Zetes and Calais of pagan +memory, I could scarcely have sped swifter than I did along the streets +of Florence, threading my way with amazing dexterity through the throng +that hurried, like me, in the same direction. In a few wild minutes I +found myself in the Place of the Holy Felicity, which was now no other +than a camping-ground for two opposing forces under arms. As I began to +realize what these opposing forces were, I also realized that the time +of the day was long past noon, and that I must have slept my heavy, +dream-disturbed sleep for some hours that were eventful hours to many +that were familiar to me.</p> + +<p>Let me try and present a picture of what I saw that afternoon in the +Place of the Holy Felicity. In front of the house of Messer Folco +Portinari, that seemed to me more grim and solemn than ever that day, +were ranged a number of the soldiers of the authorities of the city, +that had evidently been set there to protect Messer Folco's house from +attack, and that were far too few for the purpose, considering who was +the assailant and what his powers of aggression. For the assailant was +Messer Simone dei Bardi, that strode a big horse and was girt with a big +sword, and looked for all the world like the painted giant of a puppet +play. Behind Messer Simone was massed a mighty following, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span>that took up +much of the space in the square and flowed off into the other streets +adjacent, which his men held, that no assistance might be sent to the +soldiers of the authorities. It was not these soldiers, indeed, that +stayed Messer Simone from his purpose of forcing an entrance to the +Portinari palace, but the presence of other elements in the struggle +that was to be striven that day.</p> + +<p>One of these elements was represented, to my wonder and delight, by my +dear Dante, who stood on the steps of the Portinari palace with a great +sword in his hand. So standing, he looked like some guardian angel of +the place, appointed to protect it from desecration. His face was very +calm, and he kept his gaze ever fixed most steadily upon Simone of the +Bardi, and he seemed eager for the conflict that must surely be. Below +him were gathered many of his friends, many of the Reds, many of the +fellowship of the Company of Death, that had fought and beaten the +Aretines but yesterday, and among these, of course, and of course in the +foremost place, was Messer Guido Cavalcanti. But though the friends of +Dante were many, they were but few in comparison with the numbers that +were led by Simone dei Bardi, and Simone could have swept his enemies +away from the threshold of the Portinari palace were it not for the +existence of a further element in the struggle. That element was +represented by a multitude of armed men on <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span>horseback that were ranged +in front of the palace in manifest antagonism to Messer Simone and his +supporters. Over the helms of these horsemen floated the Dragon-flag +that I now knew so well, and at their head, mounted on a great gray +horse that he held well reined in, Messer Griffo of the Claw, that made +a fine opposition to Messer Simone, both in bulk and bearing.</p> + +<p>By the side of Messer Griffo, on a high bay, rode one that at the first +glance I took for a youth, and that at the second glance I knew for +Madonna Vittoria in the habit of a youth. It became her plumpness very +lovingly, and, indeed, she looked very well with a scarlet cap set atop +of her twisted-up tresses and her eyes all fire with excitement. She +kept very close to Messer Griffo's side, and looked at him every now and +then as if she loved him, which, as I gathered thereafter, was exactly +what she did. It seems that well-nigh from the first the big Englishman +won her demi-Roman, semi-Grecian heart, and that while he was so smitten +with her as to do her will in that business of Arezzo and Messer Simone, +she, on her side, was so won by his willingness and his bulk and his +blunt love-making, that she cared no longer for the winning of that +wicked old wager, and had but one thought in her head, which was to +become the lawful wife of Messer Griffo of the Claw. This was an +arrangement of their joint affairs which <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span>Messer Griffo of the Claw was +very willing to make.</p> + +<p>I did not know all this as I stood there in the Place of the Holy +Felicity, though I could guess at a good deal of it, for the tale of +Griffo's love for Vittoria and of Vittoria's love for Griffo was written +in the largest and plainest hand of write. But I could not guess the +causes that had brought Messer Simone and Messer Griffo thus face to +face before Messer Folco's house, in all this pomp and armament of +battle. But I had plenty of friends in the crowd to question, and by the +time that I had elbowed my way to the edge nearest to the +antagonists—aiding my advance by loud proclamations that I was one of +the Company of Death, a statement that insured me help and respect in my +advance—I had learned all that it was necessary for me to know in order +to understand the bellicose state of affairs. You shall understand them +in your turn, but in the first place it is necessary for me to tell what +had happened in those hours when I was snoring, and had led to the +facing of those two armed forces in the Place of the Holy Felicity and +in front of Messer Folco's home.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XXV" id="XXV"></a>XXV</h2> + +<h3>MEETING AND PARTING</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">D</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">ante,</span> +when he left me, accompanied Messer Tommaso Severo to the house +of Folco Portinari. He was very silent on the way, thinking troubled +thoughts, but Messer Tommaso Severo talked, telling him many things to +which he listened heedfully in spite of his cares. Messer Tommaso Severo +told him that Messer Folco had greatly changed in his bearing toward his +daughter, the which, indeed, he had already told me, and that he seemed +to understand, as it were, for the first time, how precious a life hers +was, and how lovely and how fragile. Severo believed that Messer Folco +would now be willing, if only he could liberate his child from the +weight of the Bardi name, to leave her all liberty of choice as to the +man she would wed, even if that man had neither wealth nor fame to back +him. Such changes of mood, the physician averred, were not uncommon in +men of Messer Folco's temperament, who are led by pride and vanity and +many selfish motives into some evil course without rightly appreciating +the fulness of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span>the evil. But when, by some strange chance, their eyes +are cleansed to see the folly or the wickedness of their conduct, the +native goodness in them asserts itself very violently, to the complete +overthrow and banishment of the old disposition, and they are +straightway as steadfast in the good extreme as of old they had been +stubborn in the bad.</p> + +<p>But what Messer Severo most spoke of was the strange delicacy of the +physical nature and composition of Beatrice. Never, he declared, in all +his long experience as a physician, had he met with any case like to +hers. Although she seemed to the beholder to carry the colors of health +in her cheeks and the form of health on her body, he asserted that she +was of so ethereal a creation that the vital essence was barely housed +by its tenement of flesh, and could, as he fancied, set itself free from +its trammels with well-nigh unearthly ease. All of which he dwelt upon, +because, being a man of science, it interested him mightily, and though +he loved the girl dearly, it did not enter his wise head that what he +said must cause a pang to the youth by his side, the youth who also +loved her. But Dante made no sign that he heeded him to his hurt, but +marched on doggedly, with a grim determination on a face that had aged +much in a few days.</p> + +<p>Florence was quiet enough as they trudged along through the streets that +had been so crowded, so uproarious, yesterday. We soon settle down again +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span>after one of our little upheavals, and whether the event has been +Guelph killing Ghibelline, or Yellow hounding Red, or Black baying at +White, the next morning sees the sensible Florentines going about their +affairs as composedly as if nothing ever had happened, or, indeed, ever +could happen, out of the common. So when the pair came to the Portinari +palace, the Piazza of the Santa Felicita was well-nigh as desolate as +the desert. Dante glanced, you may be very sure, at that painted image +of the God of Love that ruled above the fountain by the bridge, and it +seemed to him as if the statue gave him a melancholy glance. Yet Dante +was going to see his beloved, and he could not be downcast.</p> + +<p>When the two were under the shadow of the Portinari palace, Messer +Tommaso Severo ceased talking, and going to the little door, knocked +thrice upon it, whereupon the warder within, after peeping for a moment +through a grill, opened it and admitted the doctor and his companion. In +silence Severo conducted Dante through the silent corridors of the great +house, which seemed strangely quiet in its contrast to the gayety on the +night when Dante last beheld it. The pair met no one in their progress +through the palace. Severo informed Dante that Folco was within, but +keeping his rooms in much gloom because of all that had occurred, and +the physician made no offer to bring Dante to his presence. After a time +Severo came to a halt before <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span>a certain door, on which he knocked again +three times, as before. One of Beatrice's women answered his summons, +and after a moment's whispered colloquy the girl withdrew. An instant +later Severo pushed Dante into the room, and Dante found himself in the +presence of Beatrice.</p> + +<p>As Dante entered the room, Beatrice rose from the couch and advanced +toward him with extended hands. "You are welcome, friend," she said.</p> + +<p>Dante looked upon her paleness, and trembled and hardly knew what to +say. "My lady, my dear lady—" he began, and paused and looked at her +wistfully.</p> + +<p>Beatrice smiled sadly at him. "Our loves have fallen upon evil days, +Messer Dante," she said. "It is but a few poor hours ago since we +changed vows, and here am I wedded to your enemy, wedded to my enemy. +Dear God, it is hard to bear!" For a moment she hid her face in her +hands, as if her sorrow was too great for her.</p> + +<p>Dante's heart seemed to burn with a fierce flame. "It shall not be +borne, Madonna!" he cried. "I have hands and a heart and a brain as good +as Simone's. I would rather play the knave and stab him in the back than +have him live to be your lord. But there is no need of stabbing or idle +talk of stabbing. This false wedlock shall be broken like a false ring."</p> + +<p>Beatrice chilled the hope of his mind with a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span>look of despair. "I do not +know," she sighed, "I do not know. My father will do all he can. My +father is a changed man in these hours. He weeps when he sees me, poor +soul. But it is not sure we can break the marriage, after all."</p> + +<p>"The Pope can break the marriage," Dante said.</p> + +<p>Beatrice shook her head. "The Pope can do what he will, but he may not +choose to tamper with a sacrament for the sake of two young lovers. It +is all the world and its sober governance against two young lovers. It +is all my fault, Dante."</p> + +<p>Dante interrupted her with a groan. "Oh, my love—" he said, and said no +more, for her look stayed him.</p> + +<p>The girl went on, sadly: "If I had not yielded when I thought you dead, +yielded in obedience, yielded in despair, we should be free now, you and +I, to change many sweet thoughts into sweet words. But we are not so +free, and it may be that we never shall be so free."</p> + +<p>Dante compelled himself to speak bravely, combating her alarms. +"Dearest, have no fear, have no doubt. Why, I will fight this Simone. +Never smile at my slightness. All these weeks I have labored to make +myself master of my sword, and I have mastered it. I tested my courage +and my skill yesterday. Of my courage it is not fitting for me to speak, +but my skill is a thing outside myself <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span>that I may speak of, and I found +it sufficient. I will fight Simone, I will kill Simone, you will be +free."</p> + +<p>Beatrice sighed. "Are we right to talk so lightly of life and death, you +and I? Are we not wasting time? I sent for you to tell you that if I can +never be yours, I will never be another's. I have no right to kill my +body, that I know, but neither have I the right to kill my soul; and of +the two sins I will choose the lesser, and sooner kill myself than lie +in loveless arms. I gave myself to you, my lover, that night, when we +changed vows in the moonlight. I will kiss no other man's lips, I will +share no other man's bed. I am your wife by the laws of God, and I will +die before I dishonor my bridal."</p> + +<p>Dante took her hand and held it in his. "Oh, if Heaven could grant me a +thousand hearts to house my love in and a thousand tongues to give my +love utterance, I should still seem like a child stammering over its +alphabet when I tried to tell how I love you. All about me I seem to +hear the swell of mighty voices that thunder what my lips are too weak +to whisper, yet what they say is only as if a chorus of angels cried +aloud what I say beneath my breath, the three words that mean +everything—I love you!"</p> + +<p>Before the warmth and passion of his words a faint color kindled in the +girl's cheeks as she gave him back assurance for assurance.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p><p>"I love you, Dante, as you love me, and if, on this earth, we should +never meet again, my love would remain unchangeable with the changing +days. If I that am now young live to be old, I shall think, with death +before me and Heaven behind the wings of death, that my withered body in +the Holy Field shall quicken into the fragrance of spring flowers +because of the cleanness and the sweetness of my faith. My love shall +keep the spirit of the girl that was Beatrice fresh and blithe for the +boy that was Dante when they meet again in Heaven beyond the frontier of +the stars."</p> + +<p>Her voice seemed to fail a little as she spoke, but she held herself +erect, as if her unconquerable purpose lent her the strength she lacked. +Dante stood before her, silent, in a kind of awe. His passion for the +girl had always been so chastened by reverence, his desires so girdled +about by mystical emotions, that it seemed to him in that memorable hour +as if he and she were rather the priest and priestess of some fair and +ancient faith than man and woman that were lover and lover. His great +love seemed to burn about him like a fierce white flame consuming all +that was evil, all that was animal, in his corporeal being, and leaving +nothing after its fiery caress but a body so purified as to be scarcely +distinguishable from pure spirit. So Dante felt, enchanted, gazing in +adoration upon Beatrice, and reading in the rapture of her answering +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span>eyes the same splendid, terrible exaltation.</p> + +<p>The spell lasted for an age-long while, and then Beatrice broke it, +turning away from her lover's gaze, and as she did so Dante, lowering +his eyes, saw how upon a table near the girl there stood a little silver +casket, richly wrought with images of saints, and the lid of the casket +was lifted, and in the casket Dante saw that there lay a single red +rose, or, rather, that which had once been a red rose, but now lay +withered and faded, the mummy of its loveliness. Dante looked at it in +some wonder, and Beatrice followed his gaze and saw what he saw, and +turned to him, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, friend," she said, "if in the joy of seeing you I forgot to +thank you for your gift."</p> + +<p>And Dante looked from the rose to her and from her to the rose, and his +wonder grew, and he said, quickly, "I sent you no gift."</p> + +<p>Then Beatrice gazed at him in surprise and told him. "One left this +casket here for me this morning, a little while ago, shortly after I had +sent for you, saying that it came from him whose name would be revealed +by the treasure it contained. When I opened it I saw this rose, and I +made sure it came from you, for I thought, 'This is the rose that I gave +him, and he sends it to me in sign of greeting and of faith.'"</p> + +<p>Dante shook his head, and he put his hand to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span>his bosom and drew forth a +small piece of crimson, colored silk and unfolded it, and within the +silk there lay a withered red rose, and he showed it to Madonna +Beatrice, holding it on his extended hand.</p> + +<p>"This is the rose you gave me, Madonna," he said. "Ever since that day +it has lived next to my heart." And as he spoke his wonder seemed +growing into fear, and he looked again at the casket and the rose that +it held.</p> + +<p>"What, then, is this rose?" Beatrice asked. "And who sent it?"</p> + +<p>Dante folded his own rose away in its coverlet of silk, and put it back +into his bosom. He shook his head. He was still full of wonder, the +wonder that was growing into fear. Before he could put his troubled +thoughts into words there came a hurried knocking at the door, and +Messer Tommaso Severo entered, looking anxious and alarmed.</p> + +<p>"I fear there is some new trouble moving," he said; "there is one come +to your father with grave tidings, for Messer Folco's face was troubled; +but I know not what the tidings are."</p> + +<p>Dante paid no heed to the old man's words. He took the mysterious rose +from the casket, and held it toward Severo. "Here," he said, "is a token +that was sent to Madonna Beatrice this morning; do you know anything of +it?"</p> + +<p>Severo shook his head. "I know nothing of it," he said. "Who should send +Madonna Beatrice a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span>withered rose?" He lifted it for a moment to his +nostrils. "For all it is withered," he said, "it has a strange scent, a +strong scent." He looked at the girl anxiously. "Have you smelled it?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Beatrice, "I have smelled it, and I have kissed it, for I +thought it came from Dante."</p> + +<p>The old man muttered to himself, examining the flower and peering +curiously into its petals. He seemed as if he would have spoken again, +but was interrupted ere he could do so by the entrance of Messer Folco +looking very wrathful and stern. Folco showed no surprise at Dante's +presence, and saluted him with grave courtesy. Before Messer Folco could +speak, Severo slipped from the room.</p> + +<p>Folco spoke. "Beatrice," he said, "here is bad news. Messer Simone of +the Bardi is coming hither at the head of an armed following to claim +you and take you."</p> + +<p>Beatrice said nothing in reply to these words. She only clasped her +hands against her heart and looked wistfully at her lover.</p> + +<p>Dante spoke. "Surely this cannot be, Messer Folco, seeing that the Peace +of the City was put upon him, as upon me, yesterday, before all +Florence."</p> + +<p>"Messer Simone is no stickler for principles," Folco said, sourly; "he +cares for no laws that he can break. But in this case he claims to be +acting <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span>according to his right, since the breaking of the peace comes +from you."</p> + +<p>"From me!" Dante stared at Folco in amazement.</p> + +<p>But Messer Folco nodded his head emphatically in support of what he had +just affirmed. "I have it all," he said, "from a friend of mine that has +just come hotfoot from his neighborhood to give me warning, so that we +may be ready to yield without making difficulties. Messer Simone affirms +that you have broken the peace by visiting his wedded wife without his +knowledge or consent, and that he is in his rights as a citizen, a +husband, and a man in coming here to claim his bride and to defend her +from your advances."</p> + +<p>"I do no wrong in coming here," Dante said, sternly. "I came here +without secrecy, as I had a right to come if you were not unwilling."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," Folco said, "you came here without secrecy; but Simone's +man, Maleotti, sees you and runs to tell his master, and presently his +master will be here to claim his wife."</p> + +<p>"What will you do, then?" asked Dante, studying the elder's face.</p> + +<p>Messer Folco spoke proudly. "Folco Portinari will defend his daughter. +Folco Portinari will defend his house so long as the stones of its walls +hold together. My servants are arming now. I have sent to the Signory +for aid from the Priors. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span>If the Bardi beards me, let him look to +himself." He turned to Dante, and addressed him. "Young man, I know you +better than I did, and rate you higher. I overheard your talk with my +daughter just now, as I had a right to do, and I esteem you a brave and +honorable man. You have already shown that you can serve the state. If +there comes a happy way out of this tangle, I shall be glad to welcome +you again. But now it were well you should leave us."</p> + +<p>Dante respectfully saluted Folco. "I thank you with all my heart," he +said, simply, "for to-day's favor. I take my leave quickly, for I have a +word to say to Simone." He turned to Beatrice, took her hand, and, +bending, kissed it reverentially. "Most dear lady, farewell." He looked +once, longingly, into the wide, tearless eyes of Beatrice, then turned +and left the room rapidly.</p> + +<p>With a loving glance at his daughter, Messer Folco turned and followed +him. A minute later Tommaso Severo, entering the room with a look of +grave anxiety on his face, was but just in time to catch Beatrice in his +arms as she fell in a swoon.</p> + +<p>As Dante made his way through the corridors of the palace, Messer Folco +came after him hot upon his heels. "You will lose your way, Messer +Dante," he panted, "if you have not me to guide you." He led Dante +quickly by the way along which he had come, the two going in silence.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></p><p>Suddenly Dante caught his companion by the arm, and addressed him +eagerly: "Do me a good turn before I go," he said. "You see me with the +Peace of the City upon me; I carry no weapon. Lend me a sword."</p> + +<p>Messer Folco would have dissuaded Dante, urging him to put himself in +some place of safety as speedily as might be.</p> + +<p>But Dante shook his head. "I must have a sword," he insisted. "I wish to +speak with my enemy at the gate."</p> + +<p>Then Messer Folco, seeing that he was obdurate, and in his heart +applauding his obstinacy, took him aside to a kind of armory, and there, +from an abundance of weapons, Dante chose him a long sword, which he +thrust into his belt. Thus weaponed, he followed Messer Folco to the +gate of the palace and passed out into the fierce daylight, and as he +heard the bolts shot behind him, he looked about him to see if there was +any one hard by whom he knew. He saw a youth with whom he had some +acquaintance, and called him to him, and begged him to go with all speed +to Messer Guido Cavalcanti and tell him that his friend Dante waited for +him and such friends as he could muster at the Portinari palace. And +when the youth had gone Dante stood patiently, waiting for the things to +be.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XXVI" id="XXVI"></a>XXVI</h2> + +<h3>THE ENEMY AT THE GATE</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">D</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">ante</span> +had not long to wait. From all directions folk came hurrying into +the Place of the Holy Felicity, presaging by their presence untoward +events. Among these were certain friends of Dante's, youths that, like +him, had enrolled themselves on the fellowship of the Company of Death +and had ridden to Arezzo together. These he called toward him, and put +them quickly in possession of what was toward, and those that carried +weapons stood by him, and those that were weaponless hastened to find +weapons and came back swiftly. As the square was filling with people +there came along at a trot the few guards that the Priors, in their +wisdom, had deemed it sufficient to send for the defence of Messer +Folco's house, and these gathered together hard by the door and stood +there, seeming to find little comfort in their business. Scarcely had +they taken their places when a great roar from the farther end of the +square announced some event of moment, and immediately thereafter Messer +Simone rode forward on his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span>great war-horse with a small army of +soldiers, friends, and adherents after him. At the selfsame moment +Messer Guido Cavalcanti and a number of his friends came racing into the +square from the other corner and rushed in a body toward the door of the +Portinari palace, where Dante was standing very quietly, seemingly all +unconscious of the myriads of eyes that were fixed upon him. Thus, by +the time that Messer Simone and his followers had advanced half-way +across the square, there was a goodly number of well-armed and resolute +gentlemen gathered about the doors of Folco's palace, and their strength +was increased almost every instant by new additions to their count.</p> + +<p>When Messer Simone saw the opposition that was intended to him, and who +those were that offered it, he was hugely delighted, for he perceived +now an excellent opportunity of getting rid of the majority of his +enemies at a single stroke, as it were. The men he had with him that +filled a goodly part of the square were far more numerous than those +that had been thus hastily rallied against him, and he chuckled at his +luck. But when he saw Dante where he stood he reviled him, calling him +the thief that would steal a man's wife from his side, and summoning him +to yield himself a prisoner instantly. He did this to put himself in the +right with the people before he made an attack, and to disgrace Dante in +their eyes. But Dante <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span>answered him very quietly, saying that he was a +liar and a traitor that had cheated a woman with fables like a coward, +and sent his fellow-citizens to death by treachery like a rogue. "But," +so Dante went on, "liar though you be, and traitor and coward and rogue, +as this is our quarrel, yours and mine and no other man's, I call upon +you to dismount and meet me here sword in hand, that it shall be seen +which of us two is the friend of God in this matter."</p> + +<p>At these brave words many of the people cheered, and Simone was in a red +rage at their cries, but he laughed at Dante and mocked him; yet I think +he cannot have been so sure of himself as before, or he would have taken +Dante's challenge for the pleasure of slaying him with his own hands. I +am not sure that he would have slain Dante, and very possibly Dante +might have slain him, for Dante's skill with the weapon was now +marvellous for his age. But, however, that was not to be. Then Messer +Simone bade Messer Guido and his friends stand away from Messer Folco's +gates, for he had a mind to go in and get his wife. When Messer Guido +denied him steadfastly, and called upon him to keep the peace, Messer +Simone grinned, and, turning to his men, was for giving them the word to +fall on. But even then another great roar from the crowd told of some +new thing, and the trampling of many horses was heard, and over the +bridge <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span>came a company of lances, and over their heads fluttered the +Dragon-flag of Griffo of the Claw, and the great Free Companion and his +fellows forced their way through the yielding throng and took up their +station opposite Messer Simone and his friends, and it was very plain +that it was their intention to oppose him. This was just the time that I +got to the square, as I have already told.</p> + +<p>Messer Simone's plans had been grievously marred by the, for him, +untimely appearance of Messer Griffo and his lances. Up to that moment +he seemed to have the city pretty well at his mercy. His party counted +the more numerous adherents and the better prepared. The Reds were taken +by surprise, and were largely scattered about among the crowd, instead +of being drawn together into a solid body like the Yellows. In the seats +of authority counsels were much divided, and, in view of such division, +it was difficult, if not impossible, to take any decided action against +Simone and his friends. Moreover, there was, or so at least it seemed to +many who were not necessarily on Messer Simone's side, on the face of +it, not a little to be said for Bull-face of the Bardi. The daughter of +Folco Portinari was indeed his wife, and it seemed to those that were +sticklers for the solemnity of the married state, however brought about, +that he had every right to claim her, and, if put to it by unwise +opposition, to take her from her father's house.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span></p><p>That the girl's consent to the wedding had been either extorted from her +by menace or won from her by means of a sorry trick mattered little in +the eyes of these disciplinarians. A daughter, according to their +philosophy, had no right to have an opinion of her own as to her spouse. +She was bound by the old rules and customs of the country to accept with +submission, and not merely with submission but with meekness, and not +merely with meekness but with gratitude, the husband that might be +selected for her by the wisdom of her elders. All this volume of +feeling—and it ran with a pretty strong current—was in favor of Messer +Simone, and Messer Simone knew that it would be so in his favor, and +counted on it, and made the most of it, displaying himself very +obstreperously before the city as the defrauded husband.</p> + +<p>Nor, as I have said, was the fact that Messer Simone had been a +party—if, indeed, this could be proved against him, and were no more +than mere malicious rumor—to a planned ambuscade, with its consequent +slaughter of Florentine chivalry, found to weigh very heavily against +him in the minds of many that belonged to the Yellow fellowship. A man +must get rid of his enemies as best he can, after all, and the +misfortune in this matter for Messer Simone was that he had flagrantly +failed in his enterprise, and had rather strengthened than weakened his +adversaries by his misadventure. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span>Anyway, he may have had nothing +whatever to do with the matter, and must for the present be accorded the +benefit of the doubt.</p> + +<p>All these things combined to make Messer Simone's rising a mighty +serious matter, and his appearance at the head of his little army of +followers before the house of Messer Folco of the Portinari a thing of +sufficiently grave concern for Messer Folco. Simone clamored for his +wife, Simone insisted on his wife being delivered over to him, Simone +loudly announced his intention, if the girl were not promptly and +peaceably surrendered to him, of laying siege to the Portinari palace +and taking her thence by force.</p> + +<p>Now, of the populace of Florence, that was soon set astir and buzzing by +all this war-like circumstance, I think that the most part were against +Messer Simone in this business, because of the general pity felt for the +girl, and the general admiration for young Dante that was now proved +poet and proved soldier, and the general sympathy for two young lovers +troubled by adverse stars. But such sympathy could do little against the +grim arguments of Simone, against those steady ranks of his adherents, +heavily armed, and resolute to follow their leader wherever he might +choose to lead them. Yet the people had found a leader in Dante, whose +words had set their minds on fire, and the gradually increasing number +of the Reds <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span>that had made their way to the place and were clustered +about Guido Cavalcanti stiffened their fluent units into something like +a solidity of opposition. But the odds were amazingly on the side of the +Yellows in everything that was necessary for success, in readiness, in +discipline, in weapons, in stubbornness of determination to do the thing +they wished to do—as indifferent to the laws of the city as heedless of +the laws of Heaven. The points of the game were all in favor of Messer +Simone.</p> + +<p>But when Messer Griffo of the Claw rode into the city at the head of his +levy of lances, with Monna Vittoria in her male attire riding by his +side, and the Dragon banner flapping over all, things began to wear a +very different face. Messer Griffo and his merry men forced their way +easily enough across the bridge, pushing steadily through the crowds +that gave way before them and cheered them as they passed, for Griffo of +the Claw was popular in Florence. The company of mercenaries, as I have +said, came to a halt by Messer Folco's house, and drew up in face of +Simone and his forces.</p> + +<p>Now, when I came upon the scene, I was still a little dizzy with wine +and sleep, whose fumes my race through the streets of the city had not +wholly dissipated, but I was beginning to collect my senses and to +understand what was going forward. My Dante, standing with his drawn +sword in front of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span>Folco's door, the few and frightened civic guards +about the Portinari palace, the group of Guido Cavalcanti and his +brethren of the Red, the Bull-face Bardi with a multitude behind him, +and in front of these the new-come Free Companions, calm as statues +behind their master and the man-woman by his side—all these made up +such a sight as I never saw before and have never seen since, though I +saw much in my time when I was a worldling, but naught to equal that +day's doings.</p> + +<p>I have told you already how I forced and coaxed a passage through the +throng on the piazza as quickly as I could, with the aid of my cry, +"Make way for the Company of Death!" shouted with great assurance, as if +I had at my heels all who had enrolled themselves in that strange +brotherhood. As a fact, many of the company were ranked behind Messer +Simone, serving his cause, and of those that rode with me to Arezzo, the +most part were gathered together about Messer Guido Cavalcanti and +backed Dante's quarrel, and, indeed, the company never served together +as a company after that day. But the name was just then very pleasing to +Florentine ears, because of the little triumph over the Aretines, and so +the name of the company served me as a talisman to squeeze me through +the press to the front, and so to place myself by Guido's side.</p> + +<p>Messer Simone glared very ferociously at the new-comers, at Griffo of +the Claw, that had lost <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span>him one toss already, and at the woman who rode +beside him so gay and debonair in her mannish habit—the woman he had +slighted, the woman who had, as he guessed, baffled his plans once, and +had now come, as he might be very sure, to baffle them again. It was +plain to him that he had lost the day. It needed no great tactician, no +strategist, to perceive that the coming of the <i>condottieri</i> had turned +the scale against him. They were better weaponed than his men, and when +their strength was added to that of the adversaries already arrayed +against him, he was gravely outnumbered. The arrival of the mercenaries +had served to define the mood of many a waverer and to stiffen the +courage of many that had been against Simone all along, but feared to +make themselves marked men by publicly opposing him. The most prudent +thing for Messer Simone to do—and I am sure he knew it—was to give up +his game, withdraw his forces, and trust to the chance of some +opportunity of revenge hereafter. This was assuredly the wisest course +open to Simone to pursue. But Simone did not pursue that wisest course. +His temper was worse than his intelligence.</p> + +<p>When Dante, from where he stood, saw the coming of Griffo, he saluted +him with his sword, for he rightly believed that he came as a friend to +himself, or at least as a foe to Simone; and Messer Guido, that had a +right to take a foremost place in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span>the affairs of the City, especially +in such a time and place where none of those in authority were present, +went up to the <i>condottiere</i> and stood by his bridle, and spoke him +fair, and asked him very courteously why he came thus among them. And +Griffo answered, speaking also very courteously and quietly, that he had +heard from a sure source that there were dissensions in Florence whereby +some of his friends were in danger whom he would be sorry to have come +to hurt—and as he spoke he saluted Messer Guido very civilly and also +Dante—and that in consequence he had ridden over, he and his men, from +the neighborhood of Arezzo, in the hope that perhaps he and they might +be of some service to the authorities in aiding them to keep the public +peace.</p> + +<p>Now, Messer Griffo said what he said in a very loud voice, so that as +many as might be should hear him. As the people were keeping very still +since the coming of the mercenaries, out of eagerness and curiosity, +very many did hear him, and naturally Messer Simone, that was only a few +feet away, heard him. It seemed as if his rage and hatred boiled over +within him, so that he could not abide in silence, but must needs give +speech to his spleen. So he urged his horse a little forward and looked +straight at Messer Griffo, and very fiercely. Then he called out, in a +huge voice, "Florence has come to a poor pass if her peace depends upon +a scoundrel <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span>and his strumpet!" And as he said this he pointed a great +finger direct at Vittoria, and burst out into a horrible laugh. And +Griffo showed no sign that he had as much as heard Simone, but the woman +went pale under the insult, and tried to speak, but at first she could +not.</p> + +<p>At length, in a little, she found her breath, and she cried back at the +giant: "You have won your wager, Messer Simone, and I wish you joy of +your winning and the wife that loves another lord! But I would not have +you now or ever, for I have found a better man!"</p> + +<p>At this I guessed, and was right in my guesswork, that she meant Messer +Griffo, of whom, it seems, that she had suddenly become overweeningly +fond, as indeed he of her. Then Madonna Vittoria pulled with her right +hand at a finger of her left, and drew thence a heavy gold ring that +carried a great emerald set in its socket, and I remembered, as I saw +that this was the ring she had staked in her wager against Simone's +promise to wed. She rose a little in her stirrups, holding up the ring. +"Take your gain, beast!" she screamed, and she flung the ring with all +her force in Simone's face, and struck him on the left cheek and cut it +open, and the ring fell clattering to the ground among the horses' +hooves, and the red blood ran over Simone's face, very ugly to behold.</p> + +<p>What happened then happened more quickly <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span>than I can write it down, +happened more quickly than I could tell it across a table to a friend. +With a cry that was more like the bellow of some beast of the field than +any sound of a man's voice, Simone drove his horse against Vittoria, +and, bending over his charger's neck, gripped the woman about the neck +with both hands, and, lifting her out of her saddle, flung her across +his crupper and held her there, squeezing at her throat. For what seemed +to me an age, I and those near me stared at Vittoria's face, all red and +swollen with the choked blood, made horrid with the starting eyes, its +beauty ruined by the grasp of those two strangling hands. Simone was a +madman at the moment, with a madman's single thought, to kill his +victim, his fingers tightening and his blood-stained face twisted into a +hideous grin. Before the ghastly sight men stood still, and knew not +what to do—all but one man.</p> + +<p>Griffo's sword rose in the air, shining like fire in the sunlight; +Griffo's sword fell like a falling star for swiftness, and struck Simone +between the head and the shoulder, slicing into the flesh as a knife +slices into an apple. It was a well-nigh headless trunk that rolled from +the saddle fountaining its blood. As the dead giant fell, Griffo let his +sword drop clanging on the stones and caught hold of Vittoria, and, +wrenching her from the relaxing fingers, clasped her senseless body in +his arms.</p> + +<p>In the fury of confusion that followed—the screaming <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span>and plunging of +startled horses, the shouts and oaths and cries of men that seemed to +themselves to have kept silence for a great while, and, finding voice as +last, must needs use it inarticulately, like savages—I remember best +how I saw Dante standing erect on the palace steps, with his sword held +high above him, and his face was set and stern as the face of some +herald of the wrath of Heaven.</p> + +<p>"The judgment of God!" he shouted, in a voice so loud that I heard it +above all the din, and many others heard it too, "the judgment of God! +the judgment of God!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="XXVII" id="XXVII"></a>XXVII</h2> + +<h3>THE SOLITARY CITY</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">W</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">ith</span> +the death of Simone the immediate brawl came to an end. In the +first fury after his fall certain of his followers began to cry for +vengeance, but the cry was not caught up with any fulness of assurance, +and soon faded into silence. The men of the Yellows, so suddenly made +leaderless and faced by enemies so many and determined, could not fuse +into concerted action. They hesitated, looked foolishly at one another, +and lost whatever chance they had of success. Messer Simone's body, +almost decapitated from the stroke of Griffo, was fished up from +underneath the hooves of his rearing charger, laid upon a dismounted +door, covered with a cloak, and hurriedly conveyed away to his house. +Madonna Vittoria, snatched just in time from the clutch of those cruel +fingers, drew her breath in and out again; the blood that had suffused +her swollen face flowed back into its proper channels; she quickened to +existence clinging to her Griffo's breast. Messer Guido, taking to +himself authority as the chief man of his party there present, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span>called +upon the party of the dead Bardi to disperse, and disperse they did, +cowed by the presence of the lances of the Dragon-flag, even before the +belated arrival of authority, backed by all the forces it could command, +had made dispersal a necessity.</p> + +<p>Authority, now that Simone dei Bardi was indubitably dead, held a united +mind against Simone dei Bardi, and entertained no thoughts of punishing +his slayer, who, indeed, would scarcely have been minded to tolerate +their jurisdiction. Messer Griffo was left to ride unchecked to Monna +Vittoria's villa with his lances at his back. In that villa Monna +Vittoria recovered briskly, thanks to her youth and her health, and in +that villa a little later the adventurer wedded the adventuress, and +proved to the end of their days patterns of wedded content and pleasure. +Messer Simone's body was buried stealthily at night, and authority +vindicated its dignity by confiscating his houses and his goods, though +it restored to Madonna Vittoria her emerald ring, which was picked up on +the field of fight, as some salve for her rough handling. So ended, as +far as the feud of Reds and Yellows was concerned, that wild day which +is remembered, whimsically enough, in the annals of Florence as the Day +of the Felicity, from the name of the place where the contest began and +ceased. From that day the words Red and Yellow as party terms ceased to +be used, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span>because the parties had ceased to exist. The Yellows fell to +pieces with the death of Simone, and the Reds, having no appreciable +antagonists, ceased in their turn to be.</p> + +<p>As for my Dante, his joy in that day's work lived a short life. Let the +story of his woe be told quickly. When the door of the house of Folco +was opened to him, he faced its master on the threshold, clad in his +ancient armor for the defence of his dwelling, and his face was strained +with sadness, and he seemed gray with the double of his years.</p> + +<p>"My child lies in a swoon," he said. "The physician cannot awaken her as +yet. Go to your lodging. I will send for you when she comes to herself."</p> + +<p>With that Dante had to be content, and he went back to the place where +he abode, and he sat in his lonely room to await the coming of Folco's +messenger. His heart was heavy within him, and his thoughts were +troubled, and he feared the great fear. Then, to while away the weary +time, and to stay his care from feeding on his spirit, he sought some +work for his hands. He could write no verses, but because he was not +without skill as a draughtsman he took up, wherewith to draw, his tables +and a pencil, and he began to trace the face of an angel, and under his +working fingers the face of the angel had the face of a girl, and the +face of the girl was the face of Beatrice. But while he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span>drew he became +of a sudden aware that there was another in the room with him, although +he knew that he had fastened the door behind him when he came in, and +that none could have entered without his knowledge. Turning his head, he +beheld that the God of Love was standing in the room, even as he seemed +in the form of the image that stood over the fountain by the bridge. But +now the bright feathers of his wings were faded, and his face was wan, +and the garment that he wore was no longer red but black, and he looked +very sadly upon Dante, and Dante felt his spirit grow cold and old +within him before that melancholy gaze. Then the God of Love made a sign +to Dante to rise and Dante rose, and Love beckoned to him to follow and +Dante followed. The God of Love went out at the door and down the stair +with Dante ever after him, and so into the air. No one in the street saw +that gloomy figure of Love, no one save Dante, and Dante followed his +guide through the bright evening, heeding no one, thinking no other +thought than to go where his mournful herald led him. The God of Love +conducted him to the house of Folco Portinari. Even as Dante came to the +door the door opened and a man came forth, and the man was Messer +Tommaso Severo, that was setting out to seek for Dante. Severo saw +Dante, but he did not see the God of Love, and he told Dante that he was +on the point of seeking him.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span></p><p>And Dante cried out one word—"Beatrice!"</p> + +<p>And Messer Severo answered the question in his cry, very slowly and +sadly, "Madonna Beatrice is dead."</p> + +<p>Then Dante cried, "Take me to her!" And after that he spoke no other +word, but walked in silence and tearless by Severo's side till they came +to the room where Beatrice lay in her last sleep. The women that were +about the bier drew away, and the God of Love took Dante by the hand and +drew him a little nearer to where the girl lay, and Love stooped down +and kissed the white face of Beatrice—kissed her on the forehead and on +the lidded eyes and on the pale lips. Dante heard the voice of the God, +that said, "It is your love that kisses her thus." But Dante spoke no +word, and there were no tears in his eyes; only he stood there a little +while looking at Beatrice, and then he turned and went his ways, +unquestioned and unstayed, back to his own place. When Messer Guido and +I came to him later we found him sitting all alone in his chamber +looking at a little unfinished drawing of an angel, and murmuring to +himself, over and over again, "How doth the city sit solitary that was +full of people? How is she become a widow?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Here my tale comes to an end. The rascal Maleotti confessed later, on +being put to the question, that it was his master, Simone dei Bardi, who +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span>sent to Madonna Beatrice the casket containing the rose, and that the +petals of the rose had been poisoned by a cunning leech that was in +Messer Simone's service, for Messer Simone was sure that Beatrice would +think it came from Dante, and Messer Simone was of a mind that if he +could not have Beatrice no one else should have her. But when Simone +heard from Maleotti of Dante's visit to the Portinari palace so soon +after the sending of the casket, he felt sure that Dante would deny, as +Dante did deny, the sending of the rose, and that the evil thing would +scarcely have had time to effect its purpose. Then the flames of his +jealousy blazed hotter within him, and he thought that Dante's presence +in the palace would be an excuse for him to break the peace that had +been put upon him, and that he might, after all, win Beatrice for +himself. In this, as you know, he failed, and it is my belief that he +failed in the first part of his plotting, for Messer Tommaso Severo, +that had examined the rose, gave it as his opinion that though the +petals had been impregnated with some kind of venom, their odor had not +been inhaled by Beatrice sufficiently long to cause any malignant +effect, and he affirmed that the fair lady's death was due solely to the +woful agitations of the last hours of her life acting upon a body ever +too frail to house so fine a spirit. However that may be, and I hope it +was so, we found great satisfaction in the hanging of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span>Maleotti. We +would have hanged the leech, too, whom Maleotti accused, but he +forestalled our vengeance by poisoning himself—partly, I think, out of +hurt pride at the alleged failure of his cunning device.</p> + +<p>I have little more to say—no more, indeed, than this: It has been said +by many, and believed by more, that, after the death of his lady, my +dear friend fell into a kind of moral torpor, in which all sense of +things righteous and things evil was confused. Thus he went his ways, +like the godless man of whom it is spoken in the Wisdom of Solomon, +feeding on mean and secret pleasures, and consorting with the strange +women that are called Daughters of Joy. I do not know that he ever did +so; I should never credit it, though it is such folly as weaker men +might fall into readily enough in the freshness of their despair. But I +will set down this story which I have heard told of him. It relates that +one night Dante drifted toward that quarter of the city where such light +loves find shelter. There many women plucked at his sleeve as he passed, +and, at last, surrendering to temptation, he followed through the +darkness one that was closely cloaked and hooded. It seemed to him that +they went a long way together, he and the hooded woman by his side, and +though at times he spoke to her, she answered him no word. After a while +they came to an open place that was moon-lit, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span>and then the woman paused +and pulled back her hood, and there for a moment Dante looked upon the +face of the dead Beatrice. In that instant Dante found himself alone, +and he fled from the place in a great horror.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="NOTE" id="NOTE"></a>NOTE</h3> + +<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:50px;line-height:32px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">T</span><span style="margin-left:0%;">hose</span> +that in their travels in France have had the good-fortune to visit +the Abbey of Bonne Aventure in Poitou can hardly fail to be familiar +with the many and varied treasures of the abbey library. Most of these +treasures were brought together by the erudite Dom Gregory, who had, +among the other honorable passions of a scholar, an enthusiastic desire +for the amassing of rare manuscripts. Perhaps one of the rarest of all +the manuscripts in his great collection is that one which claims to be +written by the Italian poet Lappo Lappi, and to set forth in something +like narrative form an account of the loves of Dante and Beatrice. +Students and scholars who have studied this manuscript have differed +greatly in their conclusions as to its authenticity and its value. The +German Guggenheim is emphatic in his assertion that the work is a late +eighteenth-century forgery, and he bases his conclusions on many small +inaccuracies of time and place and fact which his zeal and pertinacity +have discovered. On the other hand, Prof. Hiram B. Pawling, whose +contributions to the history <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span>of Italian literature form some of the +brightest jewels in the crown of Harvard University, is inclined, after +careful consideration, to believe that the manuscript is, on the whole, +a genuine work.</p> + +<p>Undoubtedly the sheets of parchment upon which the remarkable document +is written are older than the fourteenth century, some time in whose +first half Lappo, if he be the author, must have written the book. The +keen scrutiny of powerful magnifying-glasses has revealed the fact that +much of it is inscribed on skins which had formerly been used for the +recording of a series of Lives of the Saints, whose almost effaced +letters belong, without question, to the latter part of the twelfth +century. Whoever wrote this story of Dante must have been at the +economical pains to erase carefully the ecclesiastical script, thus +curiously avenging so many palimpsests of Greek poets and Latin poets, +whose lyrics have been scrubbed away with pumice-stone to make room for +homilies and liturgies and hagiologies. If the writer of the story be +indeed Lappo Lappi, it would be quite in keeping with his character, as +we know it, to imagine him enjoying very greatly this process of +obliterating some saintly relation in order to set down upon the +restored surfaces his testimony to the greatest love-story of Italy. It +is, however, unfortunately impossible to maintain with certainty that +the writing is actually from the hand of Lappo. Though it appears to be +a clerkly <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span>calligraphy of the fourteenth century, such things have been +imitated too often to enable any but the rashest and most headstrong of +scholars to give a definite and unquestionable opinion. One may cherish +with reason a private belief that the thing is indeed Lappo's work in +Lappo's writing, but with the memory of some famous literary impositions +fresh upon us, very notably the additions to Petronius, we must pause +and pronounce warily. It may be, indeed, that although the book be +genuine enough in its creation, it was never intended to be regarded as +a serious statement of facts, but rather to be taken as an essay in +romance by one who wished the facts were as he pictured them. If this be +so, the narrative is even less historically reliable than the <i>Fiametta</i> +of Boccaccio.</p> + +<p>In any case, the manuscript, whenever written, wherever written, and by +whom written, is in a far from perfect condition. Though the care of Dom +Gregory had encased it in a wrapping of purple-colored vellum, it still +seems to have suffered from time and careless treatment. Probably its +greatest injuries date from that period when, during the stress of the +French Revolution, the treasures of the abbey library were hurriedly +concealed in underground cellars, and suffered no little from damp and +dirt during the period of their incarceration. Many portions of the +narrative are either wholly absent or exist in such a fragmentary +condition <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span>that, like a corrupt Greek text, they have to be restored by +the desperate process of guesswork. Those, therefore, who thirst for the +exact text of the tale, must either wait in patience for Professor +Pawling's long promised edition, or satisfy their curiosity by a visit +to the Abbey of Bonne Aventure in Poitou.</p> + +<h3>THE END</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="centerbox bbox"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Novels by</span></h3> +<h2>JUSTIN HUNTLY McCARTHY</h2> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" width="100%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="1" summary="BY"> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Gorgeous Borgia.</span></td> +<td align="left"> </td> +<td align="left">Post 8vo</td> +<td align="right">$1.50</td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Seraphica.</span></td> +<td align="left"> </td> +<td align="left">Post 8vo</td> +<td align="right">1.50</td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Duke's Motto.</span></td> +<td align="left"> </td> +<td align="left">Post 8vo</td> +<td align="right">1.50</td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">If I Were King.</span></td> +<td align="left">Illustrated.</td> +<td align="left">Post 8vo</td> +<td align="right">1.50</td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Marjorie</span></td> +<td align="left">Illustrated.</td> +<td align="left">Post 8vo</td> +<td align="right">1.50</td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Dryad.</span></td> +<td align="left"> </td> +<td align="left">Post 8vo</td> +<td align="right">1.50</td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Lady of Loyalty House.</span></td> +<td align="left"> </td> +<td align="left">Post 8vo</td> +<td align="right">1.50</td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Proud Prince.</span></td> +<td align="left"> </td> +<td align="left">Post 8vo</td> +<td align="right">1.50</td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Flower of France.</span></td> +<td align="left"> </td> +<td align="left">Post 8vo</td> +<td align="right">1.50</td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Illustrious O'Hagan.</span></td> +<td align="left"> </td> +<td align="left">Post 8vo</td> +<td align="right">1.50</td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Needles and Pins.</span></td> +<td align="left">Illustrated.</td> +<td align="left">Post 8vo</td> +<td align="right">1.50</td></tr> + +</table></div> + +<h4>HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, N. 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